Cheerios get smaller when ya put 'em in milk. Don't tell
me you haven't seen it for yourself. Every morning you jump out of your
thyroid water bed, beat your alarm clock to death, and take a shower with
your pet turtle. Your pet turtle, by the way, is called 'chode licker'
for reasons far beyond the interest of certain audiences associated with
Mason County High School. The end justifies the means in all cases, far
and wide. Yes, you might have to cover your posterior with peanut butter(chunky)
but you got the job. You did get the job, right? And you’re making the
dough, right? Right. So, my point is universal. Without some funky means
to justify the end, the human race would be left in the dust, spiraling
forever and forever to eternity and falling falling falling to a diurnal
and decadent DOOM. It's fate you say. No, my friend, fate is waking up
with your mom. All incestual turds: please keep reading, more delirious
quintessence to come.
If you were to put your genitals in milk, would they also shrink?
If you were to attend the College of Electric Sodomy, how many associates
would disavow you? The answer is 75. 75 business associates on the wall.
Take one down. Smack it around. Intoxicate him and watch him crawl. Because,
they'll all come crawlin’ back one day. This time, they'll remember to
bring their dictionaries.
So we’ve established some sort of logical correlation and consequence.
Each of us can either be the independent or dependent variable in this
malleable experiment of life. We’re all hamsters. But some of us don’t
eat our young. The great Lord of the sky is looking down, and writing jokes
on his clipboard with a smug certain smile.
In ancient Grecian times, over sixty days in the year were dedicated
as festivals in honor of the gods. These festivals were celebrated in Athens
and involved all members of the population including citizens and metics,
men and women, children and slaves. Our own society lauds ancient Greece
for many contributions such as theatre and democracy. But, what your teacher
didn’t tell you is quite shocking. At festivals, sacrificial rituals were
almost always performed. After being knocked unconscious with a blow to
the head, victims were skinned and cut up by priests. The inedible parts
were burned on the altar for the gods, and the rest was cooked and divided
among the people to eat.
On a final and conclusively sickening note, those gracious lunch ladies
prepared a wonderful feast today: chicken mamwich! Do yourself a favor,
don’t lift the bun and look inside.