Don’t believe what the government tells you. Oompa Loompas are not fictional characters in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. They are very much real, and I’ll prove it. On the left we have an old black and white photo of an Oompah Loompa who managed to escape the Wonka chocolate death camp, and managed to reach full adulthood. Since the photo was shot on black and white film, the Oompa Loompa looks like another regular human with bad hair, but with the magic of computers, we where able to process the images though an algorithm that restores the original colors to the image. The results are proof of the existence of Oompa Loompas.

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If you don’t believe this as substantial proof, then you can just burn in Hades.

Today, some time around 2:30, I woke up and looked out my window. It appears that it has gotten warm enough outside to melt all the snow off of our lawn. Worse yet, the lawn is still green. Actually, it looks to be in better shape now then it did this summer. Putting the healthy green lawn aside, I pondered on the fact that in recent years, the winter season has been pretty sucktacular. Surely this couldn’t be a natural matter, so I decided it was time to figure out what has happened to winter in recent years.

The first step was to round up the usual suspects, so I had my people get in touch with Satan’s people. The word back from SIHA (Satanic Institute for Human Affairs) was that the dark lord has not touched winter in any way shape or form, and that all he wants to do is live free in his stygian underworld and work on his new web development venture. The contact for Satan then added that Mr. Satan wishes humans would quit using him as a scapegoat, and that they should start accepting the blame for their own actions instead of passing it on to him. Ruling out Satan, I then approached the next flavor of the month for blame, the terrorists. I ended up decided not to blame the terrorists on the matter because I didn’t want to be trendy. So it was onto scapegoat number three, but as I was dialing the number for Global Warming, I thought back to something someone said and the truth dawned on me.

Those Christmas in July sonsabitches are to blame. See, what I was told was “Just wait until March and April. That is when winter will come, and it will probably last until July.” Who celebrates wintery events in July? Nobody! Except for the Christmas in July cultists. Sure, they were not content with just celebrating Christmas in July, so now they have developed a device that is slowly bringing the winter cold and snow into July, thus robbing it from us who celebrate in December. I think it is time for a call to arms. We must discover where this device is being held and smash it into tiny bits and hand winter back over to nature.

Rabbits give us their feet for luck. 
Pigs (magically) give us their bodies for three types of meat.
Horses give us themselves for Big Macs, and probably chicken McNuggets.
Elephants give us their legs for wastebaskets.
Minks give us their fur for coats.

Of all the things that we take from animals in exchange for their lives, I think none are getting more screwed over then the kangaroo. From them we take their scrotums to make sacks. (no pun intended) Some animals, like bovines, give their skin so that that sexy pop star call look good with it stretched onto her thighs. Others, such as the white tailed buck, give us their antlers for the great task of making guys in really big trucks feel like ‘men.’ These are sacrifices of great importance and honor in our society, but the poor Kangaroo has to sacrifice it’s junk for the sake of somebody wanting attention from having a unique coin purse. I pity these kangaroos. Odds are their “donation to human society” doesn’t have to be a fatal operation. So they have to live with the fact that their twig no longer has the berries, somebody in that large city that they can see from the top of the hill does have their berries. The worst part being that that person
is probably using it as a gag for a really crappy pickup line like “Hey Baby, want to see my scrotum?”

Now, if you want one, visit The Scrotum Gift Shop.

Sometimes I think about when the dead rise to have their feast on the living. About how the wreck havoc and terrorize the living by constantly assaulting them in ruthless hoards. I think about the pain and trauma that the survivors of these assaults have to deal with, which makes the whole idea of a zombie attack not something I’d like to endure. Then I think about the unlucky zombies who are trapped six feet below the ground in their coffins. While the rest of the zombies are out roaming free and terrorizing people, they are trapped in their dark little hole, unable to dig themselves out because they are so weak. One can’t help but feel sad for those such zombies.

According to weather.com, weather is not applicable to my town. This is creepy, I mean I’ve lived my whole life with weather, and now it is gone. I feel so empty. Maybe I’ll just go to bed, and when I wake maybe the weather will have returned to this part of the world.

It is kind of hard in these times to have a day pass where you don’t see some type of advertisement on the topic of hair loss. Some are of a person in their youth fearing for a future of being hairless. Yet others are of people who have lost their hair and because of loosing their hair, they have lost their self-esteem. Many of these people rely on products like Rogaine to help ease their fears, to regain self-esteem, and to dive into one end of a pool so they can emerge at the other end and give a big smile and thumbs ups. I think these products are killing evolution.

Consider this, back in the days before we had modern humans, there where some hairy ape-people things. I forget the scientific names, it has been a long time since I had anthropology. But anyway, we have these hairy ape-people things that migrate into the grasslands and start standing on two legs in order to see above the tall grass so that they can hunt efficiently. After this happens, the fur on their backs and asses starts to thin and disappear. The hair thinning continues to spread around the body until modern humans come along where the thinning process has only gotten up to the neck and most of the face. Now doesn’t it only seem logical that the natural hair loss should be working its way up on top of the head?

Maybe now the balding population won’t be at a loss of self esteem because they have no hair, but would rather be proud that they are further along in the great parade of evolution. Then we could all live happy together, until they decide to commit genocide on all of us fully haired folks so that they can wipe out us slow evolvers all together and take over the world as a new super race that has no need for hairspray, barbershops and shampoo.