THE BOOK OF LIFE (first five)

Topics are in shocking disarray and disorder, like life. They are numbered to appear related, but are more like distant weird relatives that pop in unexpectedly and cause you to question your sanity for ever having given them your address (or in this case, opening this book). If you find two numbered thoughts that contradict each other, just ignore one of the numbers.

1. The purpose of life is not to personally torment you. The purpose of Life is for humans to torment each other–which is the reason marriage was invented–makes it legal.

2. The Earth does what it does so it can keep going in circles, then out of the earth came humans and they’ve been going around in circles trying to figure out why they are so weird, which is probably why earth kicks their butts every chance it gets.

3. Humans are entertaining. Humans make humans, mostly by accident. They had fun, and nine months later they have an infant, a teenager under construction–so much for fun.

4. All humans bring sunshine into a room, some by entering, some by leaving, some by showing up in their obituary.

5. Earth is a killer theme park. Violent death fuels life. It’s called DEATH WORLD. To eat, you either hire a killer or are a killer or starve to death. The proof is in your die-t. Whether animal corpses, or plant corpses, humans gut, pluck, skin, slice and dice to eat. The living beat the dead until they’re tender, and then bite, rip, chomp and chew. Humans are not the only ones that kill. Mother nature kills humans, exterminates her off-spring, kills her babies. She will reclaim you ass-sets. She will repossess your butt. From birth, nature-mommy raises humans for lunch meat for her micro-organisms that love to feast at the human-body buffet until you’re bare bones. Mommy is a genocidal mass-serial-killer cannibal. Life is a buffet and you are the main course and your children are dessert. Welcome to your warm and fuzzy mother-earth home. Life is a deadly picnic, a fatal smorgasbord. You’re on the menu. You enter crying, screw around making more food, and leave screaming, and end up manure. Enjoy your visit (until you’re dinner).