Every millennia or so, the universe aligns to form a higher form of being; one who has mastered the natural world, and found true inner peace.
When I first met Bulgingsnake, I asked him if it was better to jerk yourself off, or lend a helping hand to others.
He also helped me with my kung-fu grip.
I then asked him to be the voice on my GPS, and he said…
That’s good stuff, but how do I get to the Waffle House?
When I asked him why my insurance adjuster would giggle every time I said I was “rear-ended,” he said…
He wasn’t even a little Asian, though.
During a particularly dark period of my life, I sought counsel.
I don’t know what the fuck that means, but it looks good on a T-shirt.
I told him I’d be doing a discussion on his musings, and he said…
I assumed he meant in his ass.
On my journey to be more “Snake-like,” I inquired whether it was better to give or receive gay sex.
So stick it in his ass if I’m scared, and open my butthole if I’m lonely?
I pondered aloud why RockMomster looked so sad.
That, and herpes, right?
Since I worry so much about the state of our government, I inquired about his thoughts on the whistle blower.
But who blew the fucking whistle?
Wait, what? Didn’t you already say that shit?
When asked why Denny’s was so successful, he said…
Well, I guess…
SHUT THE FUCK UP, MAT! THIS ISN’T FUCKING BIRD TIME!
And so, as winter’s chill sets in to the Rocky Mountains, I find myself at peace with the universe once more, content in the knowledge that I am, in fact, in the know.