 A baby on the floor, in case you`re blind. |
I've got a metric ton of experience over and above that junior Mr. Dominic, but it's no excuse for his latest travesty of attempted headline punnery. For this he's earned this unprecedented award of shame, bestowed with love, and oddly accepted with pride.
Dominic is a textbook infant who crawls on his pale textbook belly, not unlike militious infantry. He thought he'd make a yokelsome joke out of it. His proposed work is as follows (my work appears in black, his sorry excuse for work appears in blue):
Infantry Defined by Infant's Belly Crawl
Blech! What a cliche wrapped in a pun wrapped in an excuse for a half-funny headline. It even feels old and tired to me and I'm not even three-years on this drab solar satellite. I've even made the infant-infantry joke, and a long time ago too.
Dominic's article continues...
Ever seen a movie about war? I know I sure haven't, but from what I hear, they're loaded with green-clad hulksters slithering hither and yon like low-lying, venom-plucked, narrow-necked Jack Cobras. Yes? No? No, okay, got it, no.
I get the chuckle that a Jack Cobra is two steps below a King Cobra, but why does camouflage coloring make a militia man a pseudo-hulk? Now that is an in-credible claim by very definition.
And what's with the "triple-no maybe yes" question? We don't ask for truth around here. We may be perplexed, but we dictate truth without verifying our facts. Our readers have no choice but to live by it.
Reading on...
No less, I'm an infant and I'm told there are trees outside* and, even without live rounds, napalm or a direct nuclear blast** coming at me, I'm belly-crawling my way to a better me, if not just an older one.
What? Huh? Infant plus trees equals infantry? How does this tie in to anything? It doesn't, that's how. I'm just telling you so you can stop wondering.
Okay, yes, due to my non-toddlitude, I know I'm an infant. I get your little double meaning jokes here.
Come on kiddo-diddo, the only one making a double intended joke here is you. It's like the household mom and dad hogging dude, its all you.
There's no conclusion to his article, so let's move straight to criticizing his footnotes.
* I don't yet exactly know what a "tree" is precisely, but I'm told they're outside and that I have seen them. Better, that I can actually see a bunch from the window right here beside where I'm sitting.
He's trying to expound his wisdom but he admits he doesn't even know what a tree is? A tree for crying out loud! Why did I hire this guy?
** The army still tells recruits they can survive a direct nuclear blast by laying face down with their rifles protected, snug beneath them. Sheer madness of the man's machine, no? I ain't even a man myself, but I know better.
Okay, I can agree with this one. Did he write this or did I? Can't remember now, but no matter, it doesn't justify his quarter-baked pun work, not by a mile, not even by a quarter mile.
So let's just put all this nonsense aside and look forward to forgetting this article. Dominic wins the Poopy Pun Award on pungency alone and I get the unofficial article redemption award.
And with that, I beg you please consider us done. This article is already (much too) long enough and we've much more importent matters to attend.

Above - Dominic wonders what's beneath the table and why he crawls on his belly. Meanwhile I just wonder where he does his research and if he does any at all... also, why's his scalp so pink?