A Crash Course in Proper Yoghourting
So it all started with this little bit of something downing 16 imperial ounces of pickle juice in under 12 parsecs. But maybe I’m being too fast. I’ll start at conception.
It was a balmy Tuesday night on Roughrider Bluff, overlooking downtown Stockton. And a particularly itchy porcupine stumbles upon a particularly brave turtle. And the rest is history. But maybe I’m moving too fast. I’ll start at our manufacture. It was on a beltway normal as shown below. We were passing by without consciousness. Just Dried fruit curds content for a drool life of waiting in a plastic sack until our Selector at last plucks us from our sack and ends us. Perhaps while they’re mid-jog, deliberating in a high-profile business meeting, or simply relaxing on the couch. Regardless of what our fate had in store for us, we would be destined for greater things. And we would only realize that when, purely by chance, the One would shine His true syringe and engorge us with its life-granting juices. Observe: