It is 12:32 am. I read this at about 10:00 PM:
http://www.theonion.com/content/news/staten_island_historians_piece
I am, as yet, not over it. One might think that after convulsing and weeping in mirth, I would have at least exacerbated some latent onion giggle matter floating around in the lower depths of my large intestines. Alas, no.
The real question is, does this better the bunny with a pancake on its head:
http://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&ik=e2724a9862&view=att&th=11dbbcaadff5b425&attid=0.1&disp=inline&realattid=f_fnrww7ug0&zw
which I have conveniently saved as a shortcut. It is a tough call. There is such simplicity to the bunny with a pancake on its head. One might argue that its shitgiggleability is transcendent due to the instantaneous wetting of pants. Life is full of grey areas.
I love the onion like I love my unborn child...with a pancake on its head. I'm going to go cry myself to sleep and count some sheep.
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