Content Update

Greetings Friends! Just a quick note to let you know that in addition to no new Blizzard this month (although you can check out the fantastic Fall menu here), other content will be slow in coming as I deal with an injury. But fear not! More braincell erasing writing from yours not so truly will be on it’s way before you can say leggo my ketchup!

Cereal Killer

Cereal Killer: Breakfast of Chumpions

 

Is your fear as sugary sweet as your crimes against breakfast you cereal mascot sycophants?

You cram your bowls with sin morning, noon and night . Not content to shove your ravenous maws full with breakfast cereal for actual breakfast. You bathe your tongues in cereal detritus and sickeningly lick your fruit flavored rabbit excrement smudged faces. You lay with cartoon, beast and bird alike in your concave dairy bed bursting with cinnamon toasted pillows. Greedily slurping every drop of sugary secretions sunk to the bottom of your used vessel. Drowning in the sacramental moo juice of the animalistic idols that you bow and scrape before. Your life meaningless beyond your insatiable honey bee hunger. Your primal hedonism clawing at your every waking moment,.enslaving you to the pursuit of the detestable release of your first frosted fix. Every soggy bowl extends that tantalizing toucan high ever further beyond your eternally quaking grasp.

You sicken me. You disgustingly wretched, sickeningly sweetened corn and wheat mongers. Your dilated pupils and trembling hands shaking in anticipation for your next bowl, your next fix of anthropomorphized sugarcotics. A frog here, a leprechaun there. You go coocoo for your gggrrreeeaaaatttt new hot fudge sundae, real cookie dough, peanut butter blasted, butterscotch core, brownie puffs. I shall cram the artificially fruit flavored depravity of your labor down your throats until you choke on it. Rivers of milk will run red with #40 dye. Look at what your caligulan cereal cravings hath wrought and despair! Your demise made manifest by  that which you heathens love so much. Crushed under the weight of your ID made manifest. I am coming for you. The milky cold grip of justice will reach out from your cupboards and snap, crackle, and pop your necks when you least expect it. Damning you to an eternity spent in the great Boo Berry Beyond. Take solace in your bowl of chocolate frosted sugar bombs while you still can silly rabbit, for dual scoops of death are for YOU…

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