Swimming In Mayonnaise

I was outside today at lunch and I saw a rabbit eating grass.  First he would nibble on some grass and then turn around, and right in the same place as he was sitting, he would nibble again.

My first thought was that he was working on some kind of age-old, rabbit fart, microwave technology.  I thought, “Maybe this rabbit likes his clovers warmed through and funky.”  I then considered what he was actually doing;  he was eating ass grass.  Gnarly/Far out.

That started me thinking about when people act similarly; where they touch their consumables with their groty ol’ butts and then eat.  It’s like when, after a coke mule gets through airport security with a bag of Colombian marching powder stuffed three inches up his rectum, he then relaxes by removing the bag and sampling his tainted goods.  (Keep in mind that the relaxation isn’t from removing the drugs; it’s the reinsertion that feels so good.)

That totally reminded of those times I drank all that pool water last summer.  I got so sick.  Was if from ingesting too much chlorine?  We’ll never know.

Oh, that made me think of when people get submerged in liquid to have their body fat inspected.  What if they used stuff other than water like chocolate sauce  or dollar coins to test body fat?  You know, like Scrooge McDuck?  If I had a tower of gold coins and I was made a toon by the great God Himself, I’d totally swim in that filthy, filthy, dirty, wonderful money.

What if instead of a vault of money, I had a vault of cool and refreshing mayonnaisse?  I would totally swim in that.   I would probably fart in it and watch/smell my bubbles as they gurgled to the surface (because that’s what you do when you go swimming).  And just like that rabbit in the grass today, I’d probably eat it.