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2002-07-24 - 1:03 p.m.

I am having way too much fun eating some Teddy Grahams. Iím torturing them. Their little carbohydrate bodies removed of legs and arms, scratching at their eyes. But leaving their perfect ears. Because Weetabix has got me on a Princes Bride kick. They sit there; mute, on the napkin that Iíve placed them on. Such torture is probably the lot in life however, as Iím sure that countless school children do much the same. Or maybe not. Kids these days. I donít understand them. Itís not like Iíve given them names or a history. Well, not all of them. One was a mass murderer. Well, statistically in the pack of 100 thereís a lot going on. I mean, All those alcoholic, gay, and homeless Teddy Grahams. All nibbled at then washed down with some Starbuckís Iced Tea. My favorite was a conjoined twin pair that I kept around for a little while, allowing them to see the carnage. I imagined that they were a little sympathetic to me, Iím sure they had a rough time in the package before the world ended and one by one their brethren were massacred. I thinking of leaving one or two survivors, to propagate the species again, and also to spread the legend of Chauffi about the baked snack food community. But itís really hard to tell what sex they are, so itís quite possible that I could be causing their extinction nonetheless.

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Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

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