Part 1
Part 2
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Brain: All right, we’re pushing up on three hours here, and
this router is still not doing the thing with other thing and goddammit I’m
getting pissed off. If I have to reset to default config one more time, I’m
gonna…
Body: EAT BAG OF POTATO CHIPS!
Brain: Not now Body, I’m… wait, what?
Body: GO TO BRIGHTLY LIT STRUCTURE WITH DING-DONG DING-DONG
ENTRANCE. TAKE LARGE BAG OF POTATO CHIPS IN EXCHANGE FOR METAL TOKENS. BRING
BACK HERE AND EAT ALL THE CHIPS.
Brain: And how in the hell is *that* supposed to help me?
Body: IT… UM… WE ARE UNDER STRESS! IS DANGER! BLOOD PRESSURE
IS RISING! BECOMING DISTRACTED! MAYBE GET EATEN BY TIGER BECAUSE WE CANNOT PAY
ATTENTION TO SURROUNDINGS!
Brain: But that doesn’t make any sense. Potato chips don’t
reduce stress. We’d be in the same mental state but with greasy fingers. And
tigers, like wolves, are not a problem in this age.
Body: LOOK MOTHERFUCKER, I DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT A “ROUTER”
IS, OR WHY WE ARE ALL MAD AT ITS “PISS-POOR DOCUMENTATION.” IT’S MY JOB TO MAKE
SURE THAT WE SURVIVE AND PROCREATE. THAT’S IT. IF SOMETHING IS TELLING ME TO
EAT POTATO CHIPS TO CALM DOWN, THEN IT’S PROBABLY THE SUBCONSCIOUS. DON’T TRY TO BLAME THIS ON ME OR THE PENIS.
Penis: Did someone call my name? Are we going to have sex?
Brain and Body: NO!
GO BACK TO SLEEP!
Subconscious: Hey guys. Yeah, the potato chip thing is me.
1977 – 1979. We used to curl up in the extra room at grandma’s house with a bag
of chips, and watch ‘The Mickey Mouse Club.’ It was pure serenity.
Brain: So I should go buy the chips?
Subconscious: Whatever works.
Body: YOU KNOW ELSE WILL WORK? DRINKING MUCH WHISKEY AND
SMOKING MANY CIGARETTES! NO MORE STRESS! NO MORE WORRIES ABOUT STUPID ROUTER
AND STUPID PROPRIETARY WIRELESS PROTOCOL!
Brain: Body, it is 3:00 in the afternoon. Is Lays OK? Swiss
cheese flavor?
BODY: EAT THEM! EAT THEM NOW!
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