Nonsense

Wyandotte Street

Kat Dennings and her Cleavage

This is the beginning of everything.

So I told you once that perspirational entities were attempting a takeover of Kentucky Fried Chicken. It turns out that I may have been undressed in my vaunted pursuit of emotional imprisonment. Perspirational entities, it turns out, are actually quite viscid. They spoke to me during an episode of 2 Broke Girls, materializing out of Kat Denning’s cleavage like a spectre in the night. I am not used to receiving messages from 2 Broke Girls. Honestly, I’m not used to receiving any kind of stimuli from 2 Broke Girls.

Let’s break this down.

2.

Broke.

Girls.

This is what the perspirational entities had to work with. This is the palette which which they painted their transcendental masterpiece, a communication that moved me to the very foundation of my bowels. And after an extensive cleaning process, I understood. Or at least I pretended to understand, smiling and nodding and saying “Oh yeah, that’s bullshit” in all the right places. Thusly mollified, the perspirational entities sublimated into solid air and pierced my uvula, shrieking something obscene about Angry Birds.

Goddamned Cocker Spaniel

One of those goddamned cocker spaniels you hear about on the news.

Having only played Angry Birds once, I didn’t quite pick up on the nuances and the references to what I’m sure is an intricate plot densely woven by intriguing characters and misshapen xylophones. But I understood enough, and this is how my apprenticeship began, as a mentor.

Armed with only my pants and an alarming sense that I might otherwise be nude, I stormed from the small chapel that housed the Holy Toaster of Milquetoast and vanquished a vast army composed entirely of empty Robitussin bottles. Fortified by my victory and overcome with lust, I descended like a swarm of locusts on the nearest brothel and was told that it was not actually a brothel, it was a Panera Bread and that the authorities had been alerted to my magnificent presence. I thanked the assistant manager for her assistance and offered to sire her child. She politely declined. I asked her if she ever watched 2 Broke Girls, and she said no. I inquired as to her preference in cola, and she stared wistfully into the semi-distance.

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