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Thursday, November 1, 2012


Yesterday in the U.S. of A. we celebrated a holiday known as Halloween. If you are unfamiliar with it, it is the time of the year where children (and ghetto adults) dress up in costume (or more ghetto-riffically, they just put their backpacks on the fronts of their bodies and wear regular clothes) and go from house to house, begging for food-like substances that are usually filled to the top with artificial color, artificial flavor, TBHQ, BHT, high fructose corn syrup and if you’re lucky – a few partially hydrogenated oils.

Since I believe sugar is a narcotic and addictive substance that has been scientifically proven to react in the bodies of humans in the exact same way as crack cocaine, I don’t usually want to pour it down the throats of myself or my lovely family. In fact, I'd quite rather avoid this type of "sugar"/quasi-food.

Here’s the problem. Most people don’t think that way, you see, and so, being a bit uninformed on such subjects, they think you’re just being a mean ol’ drooling evil ogre who thinks there is obviously nothing more rip-roarin’ fun than shattering the rainbowy and glittering hopes and dreams of every child on earth and beyond. I might personally say the opposite is true, but hey – what do I know?

So I had to come up with something, something good. How can I avoid my devilish ogre persona and still save my family from death poison? Now, to be clear, I really don’t care all that much what other people think since the reason I’m doing it is because I believe it is best for my family (and other people ought to have the liberty to snort piles of cocaine – or not - if they really so desire) and, as you can see from my other posts, I’m quite used to being (shall we say) on the fringe of mainstream society. And that is just peachy keen with me.

But I didn’t want my family to think, “Aw man, she stinks! She’s taking all of our fun and grinding it up like a fenugreek seed!” Then they’ll get older and think I was born to torture them and they’ll have to go to psychotherapy and have to discuss years and years of suppression of wanting to smoke crack/eat sugar and their wicked, evil ogre never let them. Hideous, really. Then they’ll hate me and make me go into a nursing home that serves GMO food at every meal and I’ll turn into a three-headed radioactive monster that appears to have been born in the Detroit River. I ain’t goin’ out like that, homeboy!

Thus, my plan was born, in six gloriously simple steps.

Step 1: Make homemade (mostly organic!) chocolate peanut butter cups so they won’t miss out on TBHQ/BHT/partially hydrogenated oils Reese’s. (One of our family flavorites.)

Step 2: Go trick or treating anyway, collecting the poison the whole way.

Step 3: Upon arriving at home, allow the children one or two pieces of poison.

Step 4: Weigh the bag o’ crack.

Step 5: Pay $2/pound to each small one for the surrender of the bag.

Step 6: Dispose of narcotic, take the bittys shopping for something that will last a lot longer than the sugar high they’d be on otherwise.

Happy crack-free peeps all around! Hooray!

Peace, love and here’s to a narcotic-free family,
Ms. Daisy

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