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Wednesday, January 21, 2004

Skyrockets and Hot Pockets

Prepare to be griped at.

So the cafeteria used to serve pineapple. I love pineapple. It's the best. But recently, in some sort of misguided enviromentalist tropical-fruit-rights gesture, pineapple was stricken from the menu and instated in the decoration department, where whole, unviolated pineapples now adorn the area of their former repression. Thanks to the efforts of some unsung Apricot Lincoln, pineapples are now free to carry out their natural function; which, apparently, is to sit in ice. A rather striking gesture, this, and I fear it is only a sign of things to come. How long, I hear the activists shout, will it be until peaches and plums can live their lives and provide for their families without fear of ingestion? How long until someone stands up for the helpless, homeless, skinless mandarin oranges? How long, for that matter, until the animal rights movement joins forces with the plant rights movement to strive toward that magnificent day when the species of the earth will break free from mankind's tyrranical grip and the human race will no longer be allowed to eat anything?

The struggle for existence. It's enough to drive an animal crackers.

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