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Don't sugar coat it. Take out the fart spray

  • Don't sugar coat it. Take out the fart spray and goose this turnip good. I'm tired of everyone blaming the fat guy for unowned odors. This time I will strike, and strike hard until
  • the dystopian office malaise boils over into a savagery befitting the anguish it relegates me to daily. The untraceable, yet pervasive stench, once under the carpets, will taunt
  • the tastes of any connoisseur of pungent delectables. I was like a truffle caught in the path of stampeding swine. This is what I have to
  • endure because my sweat glands naturally produces the aroma of chocoloate chip cookies straight from the oven.
  • Though I'd tried sticking myself in the oven to compensate for the cookie aroma, I'd only ended up smelling like
  • Girls with bubble-gum lazers that took a bite out of crime for the next fifty years.
  • The BGLG (Bubble Gum Lazar Girls) replaced police and soldiers everywhere. Criminals could spot the Lazar glow shining through their teeth even in Noonlight! Crime became so rare
  • that wannabe-nonconformists started joining crime groups, making it grow more rampant all over again because it was so kitsch. Hipsters were breaking into banks, dealing crack and
  • laundering money. When they refused to install carbon monoxide detectors in their homes, the President twatted a plea for order (#ohgrowupalready), but the criminal hipsters
  • just tweeted back, "How long do you have to be ignorant before you start experiencing bliss?"

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