Hop to it

I like to think that if I was ever trying to wear-in stiff new shoes by hopping on my bad leg on the roof of a merry-go-round that was on top of the spire that was on top of a mega-sized skyscraper that was on top of an increasingly straining beach ball that was on top of a recently sharpened tooth pick that was balancing on twelve perfectly stacked grains of sand that were held in place by the collective optimism for the future of earth by all mankind that was fueled by what most people think when they discover the elevators are broken, that whoever was in charge of building this contraption remembered to wear his or her safety helmet, I fucking hate risk takers. Oh plus who sharpened a toothpick? Gums could be stabbed open with the side flat side of a postage stamp. Some people really are weird.