The depressed termite had had enough of wood.

The depressed termite had had enough of wood. Wood, wood wood. That's all anyone ate around here. What about osso buco? What about

the healing power of laughter after hearing a good joke? Did you hear the one about the termite who walked into a bar, and asked, "Is the bartender here?"

So you see it was a termite and the bar... the bar was tender.... No, he wasn't really looking for the bartender... You're right, I guess bars might not serve insects...Anyway

no one laughed & the termite remained thirsty. "Hey! What's a bug gotta do to get service here?" he shouted. Nada. Disgusted, the termite turned to the hungry hungry caterpillar &

Said, "Well?" The caterpillar ran over the termite with a tractor full of diesel fuel and used him as fertiliser. The resulting crop of vegetables was canned by Mrs. Caterpillar.

They were sold under the Wailing Pussy brand. It was a niche brand, to be sure, but it was making inroads with the Whole Foods crowd. Some claimed a mixing of vermiculture & bug la

-xitives made for a fine compost tea that would boost one's immortality. A godlike creature leered from the label beneath the words "Are you willing to trade flavor for everlasting

irregularity relief?” The godlike creature leering from the bottle label looked like Morgan Freeman snorting x-lax from a toilet bowl while shouting, “The cocaine of immortals.”

"Snorted by the Almighty himself!" The bottle leapt out of my hand and started sprinting about the room. I leapt after it, but I was no Bruce Almighty at catching rogue M. Freeman

And this is why no one ever plays "Spin the Bottle" with God.