I once knew a man named Ukulele Jones, who was neither a ukulele nor a Jones. Born Ukulele Smith, he changed his stage name as to appear less common. But the path there was hard.
Ukelele Jones taught me many life lessons. He taught me that in order to become something, all one must do is inhibit that space. Citing this axom, Ukulele Smith once secretly lived for 8 months in the basement of his neighbor’s home. Their surname? Jones. When he emerged months later, his scabs may have been open and pussing; his pupils may have permanently displaced the whites of his eyes, but he was a Jones. There is much we can learn from my friend Ukulele.
Ukulele Jones taught me that all souls, big and small, are wise. That is why he twice migrated South for winter, heeding the advice of Canadian geese. He then applied for Canadian citizenship. He then was arrested for regurgitating angel food cake into a toddler’s mouth in an Ottawa supermarket.
Ukulele jones learned much in Canadian prison. He learned to love another is to love oneself. He learned that the road less traveled is often bumpy. He learned that paint thinner and sudaphed is a cheap alternative for crystal meth. He taught me that too.
And that is why I am donating the whites of my eyes to Ukulele. For his disappeared in passion, and I frankly have eyes too white. I look inexperienced with all that white, and I also have no other form of payment to grant him.
But this procedure is costly, and only performed in the Philippines. That is why we are asking you to donate to this Kickstarter. Please help Ukelele, while he helps us all.