Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Country Living

How dare you! Damme, sir, how dare you! Why if my father, grandfather and great grandfather were here we'd merge together into one extremely large and inflamed country gentleman and demand satisfaction! Your disgusting ignorance and arrogance makes my gorge rise. It rises like a tiny lifeboat, cast adrift on a turbulent sea of bile, about to be fatally dashed against the rocky shore of my spleen. Did you grow up in the country? Are your bones made from the same weathered wood that is featured in our charming fences? Does cool country water flow through your veins instead of blood? Is there manure in your hair? No? Then forever be silent on matters pastoral!

Of course that's a broccoli tree. Where in blazes did you think broccoli came from?

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