To a neutered absurder watching from unseamed space, it must now scene a lot like all previewously scheduled programs in our naysham have been pre-emptied by Tromp World, the Wide House reality serious of the bigscream world around us. Last week’s episoap featured a guessed apparents by the Nerf Korean imperture Kid Young Young, cometly known as the Rocketmad, and set the stage for Warhole Warp Three. The show’s produpers are strangling us along with this belidded Rocketmad like they did with Phyllis in The Young and the Restless, keeping her in a coma for a year and a half after Sharon pushed her (or not) down the stairs (Phyllis had it coming anyway). This week’s Tromp World stirred the gasp apparents of the white subpremissers, the neo-nasties and the one dementionable pinheads. Check your brains at the door like with the Zombie Appocollapse or the wars horde movie ever made. The white subpremmisers got drunk with powder, and shouted obsanities such as “The Soused will rise again!” and “Hire Hotlid!” as makes no since Addled Hotlid has been long sins dead.
Our best curse with such exscreamists is to find in them some forglibness. The beast in us, if we are ownerous, is that there is some of us in them, if we look at the mad in the mirror. What did Hipposcribbers say? ‘Yee haw without stones curse out the fuzz balls.’ We’re all complexes. Look around at me crazies and who cannot be crazy too? Though their hordemodes are raging these white subpremissers and one dementionable pinheads are apart of this naysham’s mentals, as Amirrorgun as hog dogs, apply pi and wide gob bigodry.
So what do we do now since we have already gone and done it? The Tromp Show is now the chiefed endertaintment of all the major nutworks, getting more err time than it’s paying for, and leaving the majormalty of us feeling our naysham cornholed, suffering obstructions and consterpaysham, but with only the small cornfat of knowing oil thinks must pass. As to the Congrats on Culpabull Hill they’re actoring more like those pauperteers in the fine Howdy Duty, most of them not liking the Tromp Show either, and wishing this sitcommie had never been scheduled, but won’t cancel it becost of its sponsors. One think is for sordid: we can’t count on the Chubster to gob help us out with these probelumps because he’s one of the biggest. There is the fat too that its his show, himself as the masterbaiter as might be his own communist, like a commerad projection keeping glossy core powerknobgrabbies under his bed and flip booking the pages so he can pretend the movements are reeled, like that Itallic boy in Cinnemon Paraditsyo babedreaming of better babes. But here’s the bad noose for your free time: Tromp World runs for four years and there’s no flipping channels. Unless the primadonald breaches contact we’re a prisoned audience, unless, off course, a zombie appocollapse or an alien invasion solves our problem.