Who the duck?

Zuka Duka who?

Who the duck? is something you might ask yourself daily. And, truth be told, I do too. I have no idea why; it's just become part of my life. Let me give you a brief summary of my life thus far (as said by my neighbor, Frank):

Who the duck?	It pretty much fucking sucks. All he does is play with dolls all day, and stares at the mailbox.	Who the duck?
—Frank, the neighbor

That' right, you heard him. I have any obsession with dolls. I do not know why. But i collect them. I collect them in whole crates. Barbies, Bratz, even G.I. Joes. I can't help it. I think I would die without it.

Once I have enough of these dolls, I either:

Blow them right the fuck up
Put them into a big giant soup I am making for a pot luck
Feed their chopped body parts to my brunkydunk. That right, I have a brunkydunk.

And now you may be wondering about the part with the mailbox. I sit there and wait for my explosives which I use to blow up my dolls to arrive. Even if I haven't ordered any.

Oh, wait, we're supposed to be talking about Who the duck?, right? I can't believe I got so side-tracked. Silly me, silly me.....

Back to the Who the duck? part. Wait, Who the duck would say who the duck? I honestly don't know. I just can't figure out why anyone who say Who the duck?

Except for me, of course. I like to ask this question to by collection of lettuce heads. Did I tell you about those? Oh, well, there's a great story behind those:

One fancy afternoon I saw it fit to go walking around town. And I henceforth did so. It wasn't too spectacular; only a lunar eclipse and two car crashes marked the notable events as I strolled two blocks down to the local butcher shop.

While I was there, I bought a pile of lettuce heads, and since they were called heads, I spent forty-eight years of my life carving accurate facial features of my own face into the lettuce. However, given I had no mirror, this proved difficult, so I randomly chopped bits out of the lettuce. But none of that matters now.

The end.

That's my story. And now, every day, I ask the same question to my heads of lettuce, my dolls, my hamsters (Did I tell you about those? There's another great story.):