Hello Wesfriends,
Here’s a little matter that really gets our goat. Just a moment ago, we were dining at that most prestigious eating establishment, McGonorrhea Hall, Mocon for short. As we ate our gnarly Szechuan vegetables, we were transported by jubilation and mirth to the land of Szech; the days of yesteryear, when Mocon was known by us as the Boom Boom Room. So, basically Mercy picked up her fork and started with a “chicky boom boom whee,” and then Jenny joined in with a “tinkie toot toot daa.” As they percussed away, Friendjamin contributed a most righteous “prrffft ding ding,” and then Nick E. busted out a fat “E. Pluribus Unum” with his cup turned metallophone, while Naumsies ripped into a bodacious “donkey donkey pak pak” with his fork between bites. Zolli had left a minute earlier, but had he been there, he totally would’ve been all “whom whom paw paw doodley doo.” Immersed in our aural fixation and sonic bliss, we expected our fellow Moconpatriots to rejoice and perhumps even partake in the celebratory boom booms. But nooooooo! Dismayed were we to find that dudes and chicks be hatin’. Frowny faces all around, like so 🙁 Upset eyes burning. We even heard folks say in mean voices, “Shut up,” “Stop,” “I am pissed off” and stuff like that. Some big boys even did the old droppin the cups trick. We were just trying to rock out with friends—in short, where have all the boomers gone?
Quid pro quo psi cum laudi summa, QED.
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