Killing a bug doesn’t erase them all
Forded on July 12, 2026.
Another week flushed down the toilet, and what do I have to show for it? Another 250 words extruded from my nostrils. At least they weren’t extruded from an A.I. beastie bent on destroying humanity with paperclips!
Turds are useless. So, so useless! It is indeed satisfying to get rid of them—by flushing them down the toilet, of course! This is why I love taking a dump. Often it is the most productive thing I do in a day! Plop, plop! Fizz, fizz! Oh, what a relief it is!
I am fed up writing letters to the U.S. Government demanding they recognize Kazakhstan as the successor to the Soviet Union—not Russia. They never write back. Now there’s a black van with blacked-out windows in front of my palatial abode.
There’s too many of them. Killing a bug doesn’t erase them all. Goth gangbanger is the ultimate sigma fit. I’m not there to take the heat, so the heat went somewhere else. And it’s blowing up in their faces. Have fun going insane in five years. Cunning plan, concoction unit! Unmoved, thoughtless meat slaves.
“The stories and information posted here are artistic works of fiction and falsehood,” the sign read. “Only a fool would take anything posted here as fact.” I grunted.
On Tuesday, I found myself suffering from empty nose syndrome. Usually my nose is quite full—this came as a shock!
In other news, my podolatrous love affair with Chloë Moretz is over. We’re just friends now.