What I hate most about our postmodern condition.

What a sick fucking pig sty of a world we live in. No good deed goes unpunished and a handful of other clichés vast enough to fill the gap between today and our bleak future.

Not two months ago I had a genius idea. Light bulb, etc. I thought, how funny an article would be that was about “The wrong ways to eat a Reses.” Chop them up, mix them with pig intestines… eat them from the squeezed butt cheeks of a deranged and deformed midget. Yet, to my great dismay, it so happens, many others have already come up with this thought, and posted their lists of wrong ways to eat Reses delectable peanut butter cups online. It’s much like watching a turd swirl away down the toilet. You know it’s shitty, but you still feel melancholic, because you know that you made it, but now it’s gone. Such despair.

A year ago, while contemplating death, as I often do, I thought, why not make an internet cemetery, have shrines for your loved ones online, pictures and video clips, and people can go visit it whenever they want and leave pictures of roses, or little comments. Too late, already done.

Today though takes the cake… cookie… wafer, whatever. While fondling a slimy chicken’s breast I was preparing for grilling, I thought to myself, “Do not lick your hands or stick your fingers in your mouth, for chicken, when raw, is rumored to give humans salmonella.” Light bulb, etc. Salmon Nilla Wafers. Cookies, salmon flavored flaky cookies. Genius idea, witty, smart, congratulations, thanks for the Nobel but I must be off, brick wall. It’s already been written about… not in detail mind you, but on the comment blog of some random cartoonist society one Kevmodee (oh the irony… perhaps it’s me from the future commenting through some internet time machine… who knows) says, “Raw chicken reminds me of those new fish cookies: Salmon Nilla Wafers. (Think about that one, and it'll be funny tomorrow.)”

Tomorrow? If they didn’t get it today they are probably comatose, or that kid who played Urkel in Family Matters (a.k.a. deceased). Seriously though… is it our plight to never entertain a truly original thought in our minds for the whole of our lives? Probably. I guess that’s why we have Prozac and other happy medicines today… because before, when there were original thoughts to be had, we didn’t need anti depression drugs (I do believe they are needed today, however, unlike Mr. Top Gun). Eh… I hope I’m wrong, I hope there are original brilliant thoughts still uncreated, but maybe I’m being too optimistic.