Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Earth Puncher

 Sometimes I wish the Earth had a big face so that I could punch the Earth in its stupid, smug face.

"Oh!  Look at me!  I'm the Earth!  I'm so pretty and diverse!  You need me to live, but I'll kill you if you drive too many cars!"  Geez, what a prick!  So I took my offspring out into the wilderness over the long weekend.  I have a new child, a she-child this time, and I need to get an early start instilling in her a deep hatred for nature.  My heir and my second son are already on the road to being ecological terrorists (the kind of ecological terrorist who terrorizes the ecology, not the kind that blow up pipelines and hang harshly-worded banners in the Fort McMurray oilsands).  I, myself, am a legend among environmentalists.  I'm like Hitler to them.  Maybe I'll shave the goatee and leave a Hitlerstache.

Things went well.  There were victories on both sides, but I think I came out on top.  We wasted no time in wreaking havoc on the forest once we got there.  Within minutes, we were murdering fish.
Yeah, that's blood in the water.  Once the fish were dead, we cooked and devoured their flesh, tossing their heads and bones into the trash along with the kids' dirty, disposable diapers.  It was, however, during the fish slaughter that nature scored one of its few victories, if only a minor victory.  While my second son, out of pure contempt for nature, was beating the surface of the lake with a rod, the lake reached out and hauled the youngling into its depths.  Ready for such an attack, I was quick to pull the child out of the grasp of the water, suffering only a minor injury to my ring finger.

After teaching the lake its lesson, we turned our attention to the forest itself.  We felled two trees, dismembered them, and cut the trunk to pieces.  Not content with merely killing the sap-spewing sun-lovers, we cast their bodies into a pit of fire, a fire which I had created with my own two hands.
Once the tree carcasses were burning satisfactorily, I thought, "What better way to celebrate the death of a tree than by stabbing animal testicles and roasting them over the burning trees?"
After two days, I decided that I had had enough of nature and returned home, and now I'm pooping in fresh, potable water again, which is how man was meant to poop.


  1. Did you know butterflies don't poop?

  2. ... and some moths don't even have mouths. They just die when they get hungry.


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