What the Hell Is Behind This Zany Door?

I moved into this apartment building a few weeks ago, and I just want to know one thing: what the hell is behind this zany door? (Click on the picture to get a larger version of the photo, and you'll see how zany it really is) I used my newspaper’s digital camera to take a picture of it so that you, reader, can see the creepy door in the basement of my apartment building.

Did the Star Tribune give you a photo of this door? NO! Did your precious little Duluth News-Tribune or Superior Daily Telegram come down and do a feature on the door, and why the hell it looks like a torture chamber and/or place where one would enter a submarine? NO! Did Mike Wallace come down and interview me about the door, pausing every few moments to give the camera an glance that said, “THIS is news, THAT’S why I’m here”? NO!

So you see, dear reader, this is why Daily Ramblings is so important. If not for me, you would not know about the evil door in the basement. Soon you will learn more zanily important things that you otherwise never would have known about my apartment building. Things like, “Why does the old lady down the hall smell like cat pee?” and “Why do drunken hooligans discuss their penis sizes outside in extremely loud voices at 3 a.m.?”

The answer to both questions, of course, is “because they’re drunk”. But I digress.

I’m covering these important topics for you, reader, and all while trying to illegally download Photoshop 7 from the internet. Could you ask for more?

On to the door: I’ve tried opening it. I’ve tried breaking it in. I’ve tried spitting on it. I’ve tried taking a picture of it and posting it in a daily humor column on the internet, all to no avail.

I did not try any of these things very hard, but did you really expect me to? If you did, perhaps you haven’t been reading this column long enough.

An old lady doing her laundry enquired as to why I was taking pictures of the door. She explained that the door likely contains fuses or master controls for the elevator. She is a lying nazi bitch.

Perhaps the door is simply there to anger me. Perhaps there is nothing at all behind the door, and when I die, the door will open and I’ll see a sign that says “Dear Paul, you are a stupid hoser. Ha, ha. Signed, God.”

Which brings up the question: does God sometimes sign his name as “Jesus”? Does he sign it as this “holy spirit” that everyone seems to blatantly ignore when they pray?

For those of you who got through the lame jokes in that last paragraph, congratulations. You can now officially skip church on Sunday and not go to hell. The same goes for if you watch five minutes of religious television programming at three in the morning when you’re drunk, even if you were only making fun of it. I’ve been church free for 24 years because of that rule.

Back to the door: if you have any theories as to what the door is, or what’s behind the door, please contact me. I’ll be anxious to ridicule you publicly in this column for whatever your answer might be. Just kidding! (not really)

By the way, today is a double your pleasure day at PSHFP. You can also read the not-quite-so-offensive-as-this column I wrote for the real newspaper I work for. Keep in mind, it’s from a small-town newspaper, so it will be completely devoid of any profanity and/or sexual references and/or libelous remarks about public figures and/or name-calling like "lying nazi bitch". Also, you won’t get any of the jokes. Enjoy!

View Paul's lame column!