Newton't Llamas

I have been studying hard for Physics lately, and had to look up the conversion from pounds to Newtons. It turns out that one quarter pound is equal to one Newton, so my mom, who was sitting next to me said, “Why don’t we order a Newton with cheese?” Stitches in my side? I’ve got ‘em from laughin’.

Similarly, while snuggling on the sofa with my boyfriend, I made the astute observation that he has a man-pelt. Without missing a beat, he informed me that his spirit animal is the llama. Just thinking about it, I’m dying.

I don’t know why it is that when someone around me says something even mildly witty I often think it’s just amazing, but when I’m told a genuinely funny joke, I often have to force a chuckle. That makes zero sense to me.

In a similar vein, it’s hard for me to drink hot chocolate out of a cup that sounds like it’s in a lot of pain. For some reason, the paper coffee cups they sell at the Java Hut thing on campus sound like they’re crying when you take a big drink, and that’s just off-putting. Somehow I doubt that most people want to think about the pain their food and drink causes their paper cup.

I hate animal rights organizations. I take them as a personal criticism and insult, as well as a more general threat. I feel like they are saying that not only am I not smart enough to decide how I feel about my dogs, I’m also not observational enough to see when they’re unhappy or in pain. Besides that, I take great offence to anyone who tells me that I should be dead multiple times, or, barring that, be a wheelchair bound cripple. It also gets my fur up when someone says that my entire family should be dead to save a few mice, especially when that person is on insulin themselves. As far as hypocrisy goes, a lot of those animal rights organizations are up there with religions. Really, it reminds me of the Handmaid’s Tale; I mean the bit about the woman who through her career helped to end the ability of women everywhere to have a personal identity. Though I might be using animal research to stay alive, you shouldn’t be allowed to, so then I wouldn’t be allowed to, and we’d all be dead. The thing is, honestly, people are animals too, and I don’t see a lot of animal right’s activists protesting outside the ant colonies where they use aphids as their cows. SLAVERY AND OPPRESSION IN THE SOUTH AMERICAN AMAZON, PEOPLE!

If I had to have a freakishly enlarged body part, I’d choose my neck, so long as it didn’t have to get much thicker. I mean, how cool would it be to have a neck like those women who stretch theirs with the copper rings? Who’s swanlike now, bitches?