It Never Even Occured To me
So everyone who visits my apartment gets to see the duck.
Executive Summary: Small stuffed animal. When you squeeze it, it quacks.
Then, after a moment or two of admiring the duck, and its little cute face, and the uncanny accuracy of its quackage, I launch into my bizarre tirade.
... of how I love the ducks quack SO MUCH that I want to make an alarm clock out of it... how I want to go to Radio Shack, buy circuits and construct this thing that will squeeze the duck at the appointed time, thus quacking on cue.
She turns to me and says, "Why don't you just record the duck?"
[please imagine the sound of crickets chirping]
In fifteen years of envisioning this Duck Alarm Clock, I had never even thought of just recording the fucking thing.
Executive Summary: Small stuffed animal. When you squeeze it, it quacks.
Then, after a moment or two of admiring the duck, and its little cute face, and the uncanny accuracy of its quackage, I launch into my bizarre tirade.
... of how I love the ducks quack SO MUCH that I want to make an alarm clock out of it... how I want to go to Radio Shack, buy circuits and construct this thing that will squeeze the duck at the appointed time, thus quacking on cue.
She turns to me and says, "Why don't you just record the duck?"
[please imagine the sound of crickets chirping]
In fifteen years of envisioning this Duck Alarm Clock, I had never even thought of just recording the fucking thing.