Eating humble pie with Hitler is like eating no pie at all.

Sir Hoffenbaum of Gildencrest was no ordinary snow leopard.  Yes he was an older man, with salt and pepper hair and had affection for covering himself with black and white cotton balls. Yes he enjoyed running through the mountains and killing small game with his teeth and yes he would often growl at the females, but he was for sure not ordinary.  Why you ask? Simply put, he was rich.  Are rich people ever ordinary?  If that would be the case, then we would all be rich. By rich I mean affluent with cash, money, assets, etc.  There are an abundance of people rich with happiness but that hardly makes them special it merely makes them sane.

Sir as he was called back in college before he was wealthy and prior to accidentally taking a massive nearly lethal dose of lysergic acid diethylamide, was on a quest.  He was on a quest to befriend the shy and often misunderstood 2009 GMC W4500 Truck. “How can one really know a truck?” he would ask his friends and by friends I mean a group of gnarled tree stumps behind some dumpster by the Burger King on Mendel Avenue.  They replied, “How can anyone really know anything?” Sir replied by lighting them on fire, “Damn stumps!” He said.

It was no use, for after about 3 weeks of searching the great metropolitan area of whatever city he was in, not quite being able to figure out if it was a city or just a really large collection of aluminum cans no truck could be found.

“Maybe they don’t exist?” He shouted to the world or as others would put it, two twin seven year olds’ Battle Star Galactica and Sponge Bob Square pants theme Birthday Party (Guess who’s going to grow up a nerd?). To which the world replied by calling the cops.

Isn’t that the case though, you question the way things work and then you get called out.  Sure it could be why there isn’t coffee in the water cooler or why fish don’t like lemonade or why your co-workers chase you? Could it be that they are not really your co-workers at all? I know it’s quite profound.

Cheese: wedge or leave it, but don’t weggie it or use it as a weggie tool.

Oh yeah and I hate Hitler.