What is the deal with zebras? What a bunch of pompous, self-important striped horses. I mean, come on. Just because you have black and white stripes you won't let folks ride on you? People enjoy going on horseback rides through the woods. It brings families together. And yet, horses are very expensive. They cost a metric shitload of money to purchase. Then there are boarding fees, feeding costs, medical expenses, and more costs on top of that which I can't quite remember because that girl I love that owned a horse isn't around right now to answer my questions. That isn't the point. The point is that I have serious issues with the damned zebra.

It isn't just their nauseating attitude or the way in which they are inflating the cost of owning animals you can ride by limiting the market. It is also their creatively limited color scheme. Remember that Fruit Stripe gum zebra? It had rainbow colors. That was pretty cool, but can you believe no one has noded Fruit Stripe gum, making that a dead link? What is black and white and red all over? A zebra I have beaten to a bloody pulp because of its arrogance. Yeah, that's right, animal lovers, a bloody pulp.

Now, if you were an analist of some kind you would be having anal coitus in a lab right now. If you were an analyst you would be asking me about my zebra problems. Is this anger somehow connected with deeply rooted childhood issues? Is this hatred related to my insufficient genitalia? Well, I was pretty mad as a child when I subscribed to that Safari Cards thing and I never got any of the cool animals. I got way too many bug and squirrel-type cards. The puma card was pretty cool, but most months I was let down. I never got a zebra card. They probably didn't have one. You know why? Because if you look at pictures, zebras are always running away. Why? Because they are arrogant motherfuckers that deserve to be flogged.

Which reminds me. Some time ago I ran into a guy in a convenience store. We were both flipping through Playgirl and reading the insightful articles. He turns to me and asks what I know about "very small ponies."

Normally, I would have begun ranting about my desire to bludgeon striped horses that call themselves "zebras" just to be "towards the back of the book" but I didn't. I listened to what he had to say and did a lot of nodding. You know, the whole nodding in agreement while remaining non-committal kinda thing. It was pretty cool and eventually I forgot about my magazine.

This fellow told me about how very small ponies had appeared to him in a dream and how they were so small you could hold one in the palm of your hand and feed it little blades of grass. He also told me that they enjoyed when a man and a woman got together and the man sucked on the woman's toes. I considered this point to be both odd and moot so I ignored it and mostly forgot all about it. What was more important was that this fellow claimed he had been told by some imaginary oracle that when the very small ponies appeared again, the world would come to an end.

You can imagine my surprise this afternoon when I had a vision of the very small ponies. This was at three o'clock. At ten minutes to four this afternoon, the world ended. I was astounded.