My talks with the Master

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.

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He also helped me with my kung-fu grip.

I then asked him to be the voice on my GPS, and he said…

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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…

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He wasn’t even a little Asian, though.

During a particularly dark period of my life, I sought counsel.

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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…

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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.

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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.

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That, and herpes, right?

Since I worry so much about the state of our government, I inquired about his thoughts on the whistle blower.

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But who blew the fucking whistle?

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Wait, what? Didn’t you already say that shit?

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When asked why Denny’s was so successful, he said…

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Well, I guess…

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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.

Also, dong.