Fat Symmetry Becomes A Reality

Listen, doc – I eat fruit all the time. I dabble jelly on my two-pound peanut butter sandwiches and I occasionally skim the edge of a chip with salsa while I consume a family-size bag of Tostitos. So get off my case and please return the garbage bag I use for a T-shirt.

Do you ever feel like you’re seeing things? Like imaginary bugs or friends or emotionally stable girls?

What’s it called when you mull about in a half-conscious state all day long but by the time 11:30pm rolls around, you’re doing laundry and cleaning your bathroom? Nocturnal? Nah, that’s not it. Crazy! Yeah, that’s the word.

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. The way to an artichoke’s heart is through dip.

It’s safe to say that I will never be comfortable with pooping. For a while I figured that the older I got, the more at ease I’d be with people squeezing sin logs out of their demon holes but I’m pretty sure it’s never going to happen. If I found a genie’s lamp, I’d interrupt Robin William’s stupid song and wish for no more pooping.

Whether you believe in God or evolution or both – one thing I don’t agree with is wieners. If you lift weights, you get stronger and if you eat food you get fatter but if you have lots of sex your wiener doesn’t grow. This means that pornstars will never have actual horse dongs and mankind won’t impregnate horses and breed centaurs. What a waste!

Some hipsters wear fake glasses as a fashion statement and it’s pretty insulting to those who require corrective lenses. Therefore, I propose a new cast-wearing fad in spite of people with broken bones. It will probably annoy people who were born with broken bones and will infuriate those who broke their bones after puberty. Old people with broken bones won’t mind because they’re too busy worrying about their broken bones.