Me LOOOOOOOOOOVE cookies! Me savagely smash throughout blue-furred face. However even me getting sick of Settle for All Cookies.
Pay attention, me acknowledge cookies can profit private net expertise, in unknowable ways in which really feel largely unhelpful, however recently me settle for so many cookies me gonna yak 15” Dell laptop computer. Me in all probability have cookie diarrhea if it weren’t for having no butthole.
Me go to Autotrader.com and might’t browse Kia Sportage in Cookie Monster space except settle for all cookies; uh, why me should concede privateness and private knowledge simply to scope out finest at school sub-compact SUV? When did one thing that style so good go away such unhealthy style in mouth? Pricey God, why should cookie crumble this manner?
Me is likely to be grammatically incorrect googly-eyed asexual puppet, however me unwilling to be subservient advertising puppet. Me get grumpy as Oscar the Grouch in dirty garbage can after unsolicited mail from Orange County Kia. To not point out shitload of banner advertisements, Twitter posts, texts, and cellphone calls from pissant gross sales affiliate Derrek. Come on, Derrek, me don’t even have driver license.
That’s when Cookie Monster begin to marvel, who actual monster…
Cookie Monster say, possibly insatiable advert freaks actual monster. Cookie Monster say, they thirsty as Miss Piggy on Tinder, bloodsucking as The Rely. Cookie Monster say, what sort of monster count on folks to learn cookie coverage prolonged as Magna Carta? Sorry, someday Cookie Monster begin talking in third individual when emphatically making an attempt to drive dwelling level.
Mainly, me really feel like tossing cookies. Suckling tech goblins declare cookies useful, however solely factor cyber hellhounds care about is fracking souls to make extra cookie dough—and never the yummy sort. The icky sort that snare me in perpetual cycle of unmanageable spending habits and actually unhealthy tummy ache.
Of us, me been mowing down cookies since ’80s—again when cookie preferences have been simply chocolate chip. However me by no means have supernatural pest comply with me round shopping center. Mrs. Fields by no means monitor me like twisted bounty hunter previous Sizzling Subject and Orange Julius, tailing each transfer with creepy tenacity of selling stormtrooper.
Me admit, at first it was d-lish. Accepting cookies led to being bought extra of what me love most; good-ass cookies. However then me get Sort II Diabetes and pack on 40 kilos. Me lose confidence and cooking present and outsized chef hat and dream of Kia Sportage. How you want if love of life immediately develop into career-ending affliction? Rhetorical query, dumb dumb.
Me profoundly miss that outsized chef hat. Such very important a part of id. One thing hackers stole when cookies expose me to Malicious program virus that trample harddrive and public repute, and set off on-line blackmail ordeal that ship Elmo dwelling in bodybag. True story.
Anyhow. Like unhealthy oyster, no extra cookies for me. However don’t fear about ole Cookie Monster. Me pivot and begin offshoot Blue Man Group with kinky vibe. Verify me out at FurryBlueMan.com. And don’t fear about accepting cookies—completely innocent!
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