Now, I understand most of you went to school in the toilet, but I am a scholarly man and I speak in the language of scholars. You may need a dictionary when reading my insightful columns on everything2.com brand website and affiliates.
What the Christ is it like to go to school in the toilet? I was raised in German state schools in the 1930s and 1940s and re-educated in grammar school as an adult man in his forties FORCED TO SIT WITH CHILDREN IN SMALL DESK. Do you understand the relevance now, sweetheart?
Now, in a lot of my insightful and relevant columns, I persist in forcing true concepts down your throat with such force that you suffer from irregularity later on. I assure you, this is normal. Keep choking it down. Keep choking it down until you choke on it more than you already were. Today, I will not do that. Today, I will introduce some concepts to you that may be new to you or they may be not. This depends on what kind of toilet you received your education in while wallowing in your filthy home with low wage earning parents, you fuck. You need to learn about things. Do we understand each other? I think we need to be totally honest with each other. I need you to open yourself up to me in very intimate and revealing ways. Come. Come inside my boudoir. You will learn things in here. Things you will not later believe that you learned about. But you did. And now you can't live with yourself.
This is where we are today as a society. Lost and listless, experiencing a lack of work ethic amongst the labor classes. We must drive them harder. We must beat them until they surrender. We must load them onto livestock trucks and take them "out to the country." Oh yes. It is coming. You know it is. You rub your garlic cloves thinking about it. That day is here. It is here! Glorious!
Insightful and relevant.
There was once a character named Daffy Duck. Isn't on any longer, but it was a program. The liberals ripped it off our televisions and made us watch pants pissing contests and shit like that. Oh my god was that awful. That was the day the 70s ended and Jimmy Carter shoved solar panels right up on the fucking White House roof. I couldn't believe it. I puked. So now, this is what we have. No Daffy Duck shows and fucking solar panels on the White House roof. Everyone was laughing at us. It was like we were the puzzle factory. I stabbed myself eight times that day. In the stomach. Tragic.
Insightful and relevant. That is the name of my new column I will be writing for Off the Chain with Dick and Jane Magazine this fall. Look for it on Walmart magazine racks near you. Good stuff in there. Hidden in the back. Way, way in the back. Get back there.
I'm going to Uruguay on a press junket next weekend. I hope to be able to paint a rosey picture when I return. But I cannot promise anything. Absolutely cannot promise you that. We need to be honest with each other. You need to open up completely to me and give me all your pertinent information. I will use this information to make money.