Sunday, November 1, 2009

It is Very Important That You Read This

The Donut Strugglers

We sail on meat boats to a common destination: you're home and/or box office. We are the donut strugglers. We are the makers of man's craftiest fishhooks and we plan to rape your continents and savage your vital sour cream.
Together with the strength of virtue and the souls of organ grinders we have encapsulated what is good in the Earth.
We only need a bit of barley and some flakes of Fruit Loop gravel to make you see the way: for we have come.
We are the donut strugglers and Jeremy has spoken, he says "We must make shrines of elderly women and burn them at the alter of cherubs and notebook paper."
Ha ha ha.
When you come in at night, from work, greeting your wife or loved pet, think about the plight of ice cones that still thaw today.
Mounting ponies made of wood; we storm your ships like pirates and demand flea sacks of greedy reptilian hardware pornography.
We meet our archenemies: the Meat Wranglers.
These pirates of yore wear intercontinental, Swedish headgear that makes the Prime Meridian alternate from Delaware to Singapore.
They are crafty salesmen of granola and herbs that smell like ancient skin ruins.
We meet them in battle and I wrangle my troops with my glorious battle speech, written and directed by Steven Spielberg; soundtrack by En Vogue.
"Oh, glorious Donut Strugglers, we meet our enemy, here in the murky waters of Coulon Park. Yar! We shall avenge the death of Mickey Rooney, fore he may die at any time and leave us treasures the likes of which we haven't seen since the robot Arbitron unleashed his fleet of hand gloves upon us, YAR!
I look upon you and think to myself how once I was a private in this enormous army and how I too shook and wept at the sight of scantily clad Amway salesmen that shoved Donkey sausage into every orifice of Brett Butler. Oh, woe, those days are gone and now I am here, singing sausage rhymes with my fellow mates.
Oh, beloved.
For soon we will lose our minds as we devour snortcakes and whisper poems about Henry Kissinger. We are the lucky ones, for we shall soon meet our enemy on the sandy seas of Lake Washington. And what a lake. Nowhere else in Alaska can you find such a lake.
For this lake is in Washington.
Listen to my song and hear me ROAR!
Oh, beloved seagulls and chimpanzees
You make love to pine sticks and used globes
But, do you know how many ottomans it takes to cleanse the Earth
Oh, woe
For we shall set sail
And find mercy in Christian Bale
We erupt in fiery pots of hot cheese
And milk hungry bees
For I am hung like King Tut
And we struggle the great donut!
Yar! For now you have heard my song and we shall go into battle like eight crazy apes chasing Clint Eastwood into a brush fire made entirely of chestnuts.
And the fair maidens we shall avoid at first, then slowly become acquainted with, then tell them about our struggles with Advil dependency and then ask them out to Red Robin...and then RAPE THEM!!!!!
Ha ha ha.
And we shall steal their sacks of wool and make farm animals out of it. And then we shall tell their villagers that the farm animals eat human flesh - even though they don't. Because they are just props to instill fear in the villagers. But, the villagers will believe it, because they are but villagers.
In summation, please be armed with a copy of Titanic and a box of Grape nuts.
I love you all like an empty counter at the soda machine at 7-11.

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