darknation
November 29th, 2000, 11:11 AM
These thoughts came to me today as I sat down for dinner. There was an odious smell in the air. I took a deep sniff, and decided that my father was, in fact, frying some skiddy y-fronts in last months cooking oil. It HONKED. It STUNK. My living room smelt like the interior of the devil rectum. It was a genuinely bad smell.
After gagging a few times, I attempted to immerse myself in some cartoons on the TV... the Power Puff Girls to be precise. After a while, the manky stench has dissipated into the background, but it was still there, eating away at my senses, like a splinter in my mind...
After Bubble had finished whupping Mojo's ass, I finally plucked up the courage to ask the question.
"Daddy" said I "what the France is that most pungent stink?"
"It's bloody sprouts, said the Daddy, who watched in rapture as the kiddie's toy adverts came on TV.
"Sprouts?" I recoiled in horror at the very mention of the dreaded vegetable. "No Daddy, not sprouts! Please!"
"You'll bloody well eat them and you'll bloody well enjoy them! It's Christmas time, and we're going to have bloody sprouts, said the Daddy.
The Power Puff Girls came and went. The stench of Sprouts/caveman underwear grew stronger. Suddenly, Daddy announced that it was time. We were going to eat the sprouts!
He unceremoniously dumped the plate in front of me. I stared at the sprouts...The sprouts stared back.
"Eat the bloody sprouts!" said the daddy. I noticed that either he had eaten his green and knobbly ones in record time, or that he had neglected to give himself any.
"But..."
"Eat them! Theyre bloody good for you."
I sat and pondered on how anything that stunk like a skunk's jockstrap could possibly be good for you. After a while, I could feel Daddy's fork prodding at the back of my skull. Gingerly, I impaled one of the greenies. I raised it to my mouth. I bit.
Daddy was shocked when I vomited all over his carpet. So shocked was he, that he accidentally stabbed me in the left kidney with his fork.
All this got me thinking...
Sprouts are almost as bad as cabbage; in fact, cabbage is, in reality, just a big sprout. The question is, why the hell do we insist on eating the bloody things. The taste is the equivalent of licking a baboons rump. Something that tastes so terrible and yet is not poisonous is surely a result of NATURAL SELECTION.
Back in 200000 BC, when Sprouts evolved from dog turds, the most juicy and succulent stains were quickly devoured by Neanderthals. As time progressed, the tasty sprouts were all eaten, leaving only the foul stinksprouts to colonise the world, because no bugger would touch them.
Sprouts are cleaver, see? They watched their friend get munched, and wondered why the mammoths would never get within 200 meters of them. Finally, the sprouts concluded that bad personal hygiene was their saviour, and the entire sprout race began a race to develop the most putrid BO the world has even seen.
Soon, the sprouts began to migrate. They covered most of what is now called France. The Woolly mammoth became extinct because their long, sensitive trunk would begin convulsions at the merest hint of Sprout musk. They all died of sprout poisoning.
Modern man was stuck in a crisis. The world was saturated by eau de sprout. The pope thought for days about how to cope with the marauding sprout fields that were claiming Europe for their own. They tried burning, crushing, shooting them into space, mangling, etc etc. Nothing worked. The only way to get rid of a sprout, is by eating it.
A mass cull was in order... but how to get the people to eat the sons of bitches? Sprout Season was declared. Every year in the month of December the people would go out into the sprout forests and go on a feeding frenzy, eating sprouts until they were so full they could not move. One particularly ravenous vicar ate so many sprouts that he exploded, sending millions of sprouts hurling into the atmosphere and causing the dreaded Sprout Rains of 1012.
A national holiday was declared so people would have one day a year where they would do nothing but eat sprouts. The holiday was called Christmas (which is, believe it or not, Atlantian for "Bloody Sprouts Day")
Slowly, Bloody Sprout Day became wrapped in tradition and superstition and the true meaning of Christmas was forgotten. A guy called Jesus Christ (translated as Sprout Slayer) stole the show, and the history of the world was rewritten and the memories of the great sprout wars were forgotten. But still, wherever people gather to celebrate Christmas, wherever families join hands and praise the Lord and the coming of the Baby Jesus, they wine, dine and feast on sprouts as instinct tells them to continue the battle against the great enemy.
------------------
Darknation, the arse end of TeiM DeiM
http://www.btinternet.com/~darknation/term.gif
Poet! Writer! Doomer! Editor! Artist! The list of failures is neverending!
After gagging a few times, I attempted to immerse myself in some cartoons on the TV... the Power Puff Girls to be precise. After a while, the manky stench has dissipated into the background, but it was still there, eating away at my senses, like a splinter in my mind...
After Bubble had finished whupping Mojo's ass, I finally plucked up the courage to ask the question.
"Daddy" said I "what the France is that most pungent stink?"
"It's bloody sprouts, said the Daddy, who watched in rapture as the kiddie's toy adverts came on TV.
"Sprouts?" I recoiled in horror at the very mention of the dreaded vegetable. "No Daddy, not sprouts! Please!"
"You'll bloody well eat them and you'll bloody well enjoy them! It's Christmas time, and we're going to have bloody sprouts, said the Daddy.
The Power Puff Girls came and went. The stench of Sprouts/caveman underwear grew stronger. Suddenly, Daddy announced that it was time. We were going to eat the sprouts!
He unceremoniously dumped the plate in front of me. I stared at the sprouts...The sprouts stared back.
"Eat the bloody sprouts!" said the daddy. I noticed that either he had eaten his green and knobbly ones in record time, or that he had neglected to give himself any.
"But..."
"Eat them! Theyre bloody good for you."
I sat and pondered on how anything that stunk like a skunk's jockstrap could possibly be good for you. After a while, I could feel Daddy's fork prodding at the back of my skull. Gingerly, I impaled one of the greenies. I raised it to my mouth. I bit.
Daddy was shocked when I vomited all over his carpet. So shocked was he, that he accidentally stabbed me in the left kidney with his fork.
All this got me thinking...
Sprouts are almost as bad as cabbage; in fact, cabbage is, in reality, just a big sprout. The question is, why the hell do we insist on eating the bloody things. The taste is the equivalent of licking a baboons rump. Something that tastes so terrible and yet is not poisonous is surely a result of NATURAL SELECTION.
Back in 200000 BC, when Sprouts evolved from dog turds, the most juicy and succulent stains were quickly devoured by Neanderthals. As time progressed, the tasty sprouts were all eaten, leaving only the foul stinksprouts to colonise the world, because no bugger would touch them.
Sprouts are cleaver, see? They watched their friend get munched, and wondered why the mammoths would never get within 200 meters of them. Finally, the sprouts concluded that bad personal hygiene was their saviour, and the entire sprout race began a race to develop the most putrid BO the world has even seen.
Soon, the sprouts began to migrate. They covered most of what is now called France. The Woolly mammoth became extinct because their long, sensitive trunk would begin convulsions at the merest hint of Sprout musk. They all died of sprout poisoning.
Modern man was stuck in a crisis. The world was saturated by eau de sprout. The pope thought for days about how to cope with the marauding sprout fields that were claiming Europe for their own. They tried burning, crushing, shooting them into space, mangling, etc etc. Nothing worked. The only way to get rid of a sprout, is by eating it.
A mass cull was in order... but how to get the people to eat the sons of bitches? Sprout Season was declared. Every year in the month of December the people would go out into the sprout forests and go on a feeding frenzy, eating sprouts until they were so full they could not move. One particularly ravenous vicar ate so many sprouts that he exploded, sending millions of sprouts hurling into the atmosphere and causing the dreaded Sprout Rains of 1012.
A national holiday was declared so people would have one day a year where they would do nothing but eat sprouts. The holiday was called Christmas (which is, believe it or not, Atlantian for "Bloody Sprouts Day")
Slowly, Bloody Sprout Day became wrapped in tradition and superstition and the true meaning of Christmas was forgotten. A guy called Jesus Christ (translated as Sprout Slayer) stole the show, and the history of the world was rewritten and the memories of the great sprout wars were forgotten. But still, wherever people gather to celebrate Christmas, wherever families join hands and praise the Lord and the coming of the Baby Jesus, they wine, dine and feast on sprouts as instinct tells them to continue the battle against the great enemy.
------------------
Darknation, the arse end of TeiM DeiM
http://www.btinternet.com/~darknation/term.gif
Poet! Writer! Doomer! Editor! Artist! The list of failures is neverending!