Tag a friend who’s full of candy…yadda yadda yadda…taffy
Switeart is such a candyman. And by that I mean has pustules bursting with what could be considered sweet delights in the correct lighting. Perhaps not the “full” they were looking for.
Switeart took great offense at my insinuating their pustules look as though they are full of candy (they do). They look more like those glowing red eyes you see under your bed when you stretch down to retrieve a wayward bookmark after you’ve fallen asleep while reading.
I know for a fact the red-eyed shadow vapor under my bed prefers candy over bookmarks because I’ve dropped dozens of cinnamon Tic Tacs never to be seen again. Yet I still have my limp and faded childhood bookmark.
I switched to a Kindle, but vape ate it when it hit the floor. So I bought a Kindle Paperwhite to read in the dark and it ate that one too. I shouldn’t read at night. I know that now. Back to real books and the smell of pulp and drool, hence the return of the childhood bookmark.
At the end of the day, it just boils (no pun intended) down to whether The Giver is going to feed candy to whatever is under my bed regardless of whether someone’s pustules are filled with a candy-like substance. Hey, it’s Memorial Day weekend! Let’s go to Capitola!
I royally screwed up this thread. And by royal, I mean inbred. Too much pomp and circumcision and not enough confections. The best place for salt water taffy is the New Jersey shore. The finest dong-stretchers in the world study taffy arts in the shadow of New York City.
It’s pleasant to hear these nice words while I’m still alive. I’d rather have the taffy than the epitaphy. —Chauncey Depew
Did you know the stripes on salt water taffy are hand-painted by the zebra whisperers of Zimbabwe? I shit you not. Schools founded in the 11th century exist in Harare and churn out capable taffy stripers to this day. And Mutare.
But who did THEY learn from? How did what would become taffy-striping knowledge come to the seed of civilization itself — the dark continent? Theories vary. The most commonly accepted theory among academics is there is no relationship whatsoever to anything. But look at the elegance:
It’s all for naught. A millennium of refinement will soon vanish forever thanks to geniuses like Jack and Elon who think automation and technology will decrease taffy striping costs. It’s art! And if you take the art out of fartu, you’re only left with F U. #letthemstripe
So it ends. Where once we were free to drop cinnamon Tic Tacs under the bed as vapor feed, we’re now left with nothing but broken e-readers and broken spirits. Peace be with you. Nothing for me.