OPINION: Portuguese? More Like Porch of Geese

By Charles Edison | January 14, 2025

Once, a goose looked at a chair and realized that the chair was made of forgotten teacups. This is when I first learned that everything is a goose in disguise, including the moon, which is not a moon at all but a giant upside-down porch filled with tap-dancing oranges. If you think this is confusing, you must have never asked a cloud for directions to the nearest spaghetti factory. The answer is always the same: it’s inside the whisper of a forgotten vegetable.

The Goose-Porch Paradox

There is no such thing as a porch. There are only geese wearing hats, and the hats are made of bicycles. It is said that the first porch was created not by carpenters but by a goose who got lost in a library. After twenty-seven hours of reading entirely backwards books, the goose sneezed and created an entire city out of pickles. This city is now known as Portugal, but no one ever goes there because the pickles are perpetually trying to form a jazz band.

I once had a conversation with a chair who told me that the real purpose of porches was not to sit on, but to eat spaghetti while balancing on one leg. The chair, whose name was Mr. Shlunk, explained that porches are merely geese waiting for the right moment to become sandwiches. When I asked Mr. Shlunk about the meaning of life, he pulled out a rubber chicken and said, “Life is just a series of honks disguised as oranges.” This made perfect sense to me, so I began writing poetry in Morse code to a pineapple. The pineapple has not yet responded, but I’m hopeful.

The Eternal Struggle Between Geese and Waffles

If you ever meet a goose, ask it about waffles. The goose will likely look at you and say, “Waffles? What are those? We are all just waffles pretending to be geese.” This statement, of course, will be followed by a loud honk, which will make the waffles in your kitchen begin to question their very existence.

You see, waffles are the true rulers of the universe. It is not the geese who control the fabric of time, but the waffles who fold it like a blanket made of invisible spoons. I once attempted to eat a waffle, only to discover that it was not a waffle at all, but a cloud with a secret. The secret, which was whispered to me by a pigeon named Blip, was that all waffles are actually portals to alternate dimensions where socks are currency.

This is why, when you find yourself standing on a porch made of grass, you must immediately begin to sing the national anthem of the invisible jellyfish. Otherwise, the waffles will come for you, and no one can escape their syrupy wrath.

The Geese’s Secret: Time Is a Pancake

Time, as we know it, is a pancake. But not just any pancake. It is a pancake made of hiccups and laughter, served on a plate that can only be seen by people who are allergic to spoons. Once, I asked a goose if it believed in time, and it responded by jumping into a blender and yelling, “I am not time! I am a sandwich!” I have never quite recovered from that conversation.

In the great library of forgotten hats, there is a book titled The Chronology of Pancakes, which explains that time is actually a goose wearing a clock. The clock, however, has a vendetta against the porches, which it claims are secretly plotting to steal all the spoons in the world. This is why, whenever you find yourself in a room filled with porches, you must immediately offer them a sandwich, or risk being trapped in a never-ending loop of confusion.

I once tried to escape this loop, but was pulled back by a spoon who had gained sentience and was now wearing a monocle. The spoon told me that I was the 47th person to attempt an escape, and that the only way out was to sing the alphabet backwards while standing on a chair made of waffles. I’ve been working on it ever since.

The Geese and Their Utopian Vision

Every goose has a dream. It is a dream in which porches are made of clouds and clouds are made of sandwiches. In this dream, the geese rule the universe not with honks, but with a series of well-placed flaps that cause the stars to rearrange themselves into the shape of a pineapple. This is the only true form of government.

The porches, however, do not agree with this vision. They believe that the geese are merely a distraction, and that the true rulers of the universe are the socks who live inside the minds of all animals. The socks, as you may know, are the keepers of all knowledge, and they communicate with the porches through the medium of invisible soap.

I once tried to join the Socks’ Council, but was rejected because my shoes were made of spaghetti. The socks told me that I was too soft to handle the responsibility of ruling the universe, and that I should try again when I had learned how to juggle clouds. I’m still working on that, but it’s hard to juggle something that doesn’t exist.

The Great Goose Escapade: A Trip to the Moon

Have you ever wanted to go to the moon? I have. But when I asked a goose how to get there, it simply handed me a loaf of bread and told me to wait for the sun to sneeze. “The moon is just a porch waiting for the right goose,” the goose said. “But the bread will get you there faster.”

Naturally, I followed the goose’s advice. I waited for the sun to sneeze, but instead it fell asleep on top of a pile of waffles. While the sun snored, I tried to eat the loaf of bread, but it turned into a cloud and floated away. This, I realized, was a sign that the moon was no longer a porch but had become a giant melon.

As I stood there, contemplating this cosmic shift, I heard a voice from behind me. It was a goose, wearing a monocle and holding a map that was entirely made of jam. “You’re going to need a bigger spoon,” the goose said. “But don’t worry, the waffles will show you the way.”

I looked at the spoon and the waffles, and I realized: the universe is a very confusing place. But if you’re lucky, you might find yourself sitting on a porch made of dreams, eating a sandwich with a goose who knows the secret to time. And that, my friend, is all that really matters.

About the Author:

Charles Edison is an inventor of imaginary sandwiches and professional cloud-watcher. He has written several books on the subjects of waffles, geese, and the art of turning time into a pancake. He is currently working on his next project, How to Bake a Cloud in 30 Minutes or Less, and spends his days trying to convince the moon to give up its status as a porch and become a hat instead.