Diary of a Cereal Killer (thing)

February 26, 2004

Weird dream last night. I was skiing downhill really fast when my skis got caught in a tree root sticking out of the snow. The skis snapped off my feet, and I started rolling downhill. Snow started gathering around me as I rolled down the hill, and it kept on growing. I became the core of a snowball. I think the dream was in colour. There was something yellow (a chicken?) Then I flew off a cliff, and plummeted to my death.

Ran out of cornflakes.

Went to the store to buy cornflakes. They were out of cornflakes. I do believe that this is the first recorded case in history of a store being out of cornflakes. They may as well have been out of sugar, rice or pasta. Unheard of. Maybe they had been invaded by aliens. I talked to the manager on duty.

"I can't find the cornflakes. Is it possible that you are out?" I asked him.
"I'm afraid that it is, sir. We are, indeed, completely out of cornflakes. "
I have eaten cornflakes every morning for 15 years. But perhaps this was a sign. Perhaps it is time for a change. "In that case, my good man," I queried, "what cereal can you offer me in their stead?"
"What do you like?"
"I don't know. All I've ever tasted is cornflakes," I truthfully answered.
His face clouded. "We've given all we have already. Go back to your spaceship and never return."
"Come off it," I told him. "Do you have something, say, chocolatey?"

And so I returned home with a box of Cocoa Krispies. This could be the start of a new era.

February 27, 2004

Weird dream last night. I was exploring the Amazon Rainforest when a gorilla grabbed my ankle and climbed with me to the top of the highest tree in the jungle. The view was incredible, and just as the sun was setting over the trees, the gorilla let go, and I plummeted to my death.

Ate Cocoa Krispies for breakfast. They're chocolatey and crunchy, and they turn the milk to cocoa. But I can't help but get pissed off at the monkey on the box. What's up with that monkey?

That damn monkey! What's a monkey doing on the cover of a cereal box anyway? Is it supposed to be saying, "If you eat this cereal you will be a silly monkey?" WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH THE MONKEY? So I asked the monkey what the deal is with him. He said "YOU'RE the monkey, monkey boy." Was it my imagination? I think not. Why would I imagine a talking monkey?

Now I do believe that it is wrong for a monkey on a cereal box to get all smarty-pantsed with a person who can clobber him senseless with his bare hands. When I shared my thought with the monkey, he said "You wouldn't hit me. You're a pansy, monkey boy." Famous last words. I do believe that those are the best last words I have ever heard (except, of course "Where? I don't see any ducks"). In any case, clobber him I did. Clobber and batter (and batter and clobber). A left hook followed by a right jab. A swift uppercut sent the box flying. Didn't know I was in my high school's boxing team, did you, Mister Monkey? Quick left-hand combo, right fake, left jab and roundhouse power slammer to end it all. No more box, therefore no more monkey on box. Problem solved. QED.

Then a conundrum struck: what shall I eat tomorrow for breakfast? The Cocoa Krispies were ever so yummy - I do not wish to go back to eating cornflakes. And yet, that damn monkey!

Huzzah! The solution has presented itself! There are lots of different cereals. I shall just have to go and get another type! Perhaps I'll get something of the nutty persuasion.

February 28, 2004

7:15 am

Weird dream last night. Dreamt I was a bee flying around happily on my way back from a flower. I figured I could carry back WAY more pollen if I had arms instead of wings. So my wings turned into arms, and I plummeted to my death.

Ate Honey Nut Cheerios for breakfast. Great combination of honey and nut. Why hadn't I tried any of these cereals before?

I've given this some thought, and this is what it comes down to:

The facts:

On the cover of Honey Nut Cheerios is a bee holding a stethoscope and saying "May lower cholesterol."

The deductions:

1. It does not take a degree in medicine to realise that the bee is not a qualified physician. Thus, the bee is an impostor. Posing as a doctor is illegal in all fifty states and in some other states, too.
2. The bee is saying "May lower cholesterol." A true statement, as it MAY (or may not) lower cholesterol. However, it is also misleading, as it is also true that this cereal "may cause manic-depression," "may cause diabetes in geese" or "may accelerate the return of Beelzebub to his native plane."

The conclusion:

The bee must die.

I asked the bee whether it would rather meet its maker in the microwave or in the oven. It replied thusly:

To bee or not to bee: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the microwave to suffer 
The burnings and scorchings of outrageous fortune,
Or take up residence in a kitchen oven, 
And by combusting end them? To die; to sleep.

"No more," I said. I would have been impressed by the bee's knowledge of the classics, had it chosen a less-known soliloquy. In fact, I might have even considered pardoning the versed insect. But we all know Hamlet Scene III Act I by heart, don't we? And in any case, the acting was a bit over-done. Decision time.

The microwave, definitely. 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.

In we go, little bee. Goodbye honey-coated rings. Goodbye "may lower your cholesterol". Off you go to that sleep of death; what dreams may come and all that jazz. Half an hour in the microwave should do the trick.

Not to bee.

February 29, 2004

Weird dream last night. Was sailing my boat, when I passed by a place similar to Gulliver's Island. Lots of little people were standing on the shore, shooting bows and arrows at me. The bows didn't do much damage; they just bounced off the hull, but the arrows were pretty nasty. Then they brought a ballista and various other nasty siege weapons. I just managed to steer the boat out of range, and sailed right off the edge of the world. Plummeted to my death.

Ate Rice Krispies for breakfast. This is the worst thing I have ever tasted. I'll deal with this cereal when I get home.

Good evening Rice Krispies. Good evening, Snap. Good evening, Crackle. Good evening, Pop. Snap Crackle and Pop. We'll see who's laughing now. I poured the entire contents on the floor. Oh yes, we'll see. I jumped up and down.

Jump. SNAP. Jump. CRACKLE. Jump. POP. Jump. SNAP. Jump. CRACKLE. Jump. POP. Jump jump jump, SNAP CRACKLE POP. Jump jump jump. SNAP CRACKLE POP. Jump jump jump jump jump jump. HAHA SUFFER YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!

February 30, 2004

Weird dream last night. Dreamt that I was climbing Mount Everest, seeking an ancient Buddhist temple, where it is said, all reach enlightenment. When I got there, they told me I must make rabbit stew without using a rabbit. I tried lots of things, but none of them worked. In the end, tired of my futile attempts, 4 monks grabbed my arms and legs and threw me off the mountain. Plummeted to my death.

Ate Trix for breakfast. Nice and fruity. Just one thing: The cereal is made up of only warm colors (red, orange and yellow). And that rabbit's smiling like a madman. Is this the message we want to give kids? That everything is wonderful? I don't think so.

Poetry or prose? Poetry or prose? Poetry.

Smiling Rabbit (a poem)
Silly bunny. Silly rabbit.
Smiling smiling all the time.
I don't care much for that habit;
"Smiling," you say, "is no crime."

You persist to smile at me,
With a smile that does not budge.
But smiling IS a crime you see,
It's a crime when I'M the judge.

I'm the judge and I'm the jury;
I'm big and bad and fiercly mean.
And in my hand rests, pretty surely,
The biggest fucking hammer you've ever seen.

So let us get on with the trial:
Accused of smiling in the third degree,
Do you think you'll get away with your smile
Just because you're enriched with vitamin E?

I find you GUILTY, but have no fear -
You will not be thrown in the slammer.
However, you may not be too pleased to hear
You'll be beaten to death with this hammer.

Smash, crash, bash, clash, trash, mash and boom
There's crushed Trix all over the place
I can safely say, surveying the room
That that took the smile off your smug cuddly face.

February 31, 2004

Weird dream last night. Dreamt I was hiking in China, looking for Pandas. Suddenly a tiger jumped out of the bushes and attacked me. Are there really man-eating tigers? As the tiger pinned me to the ground and began to bite my neck, I realised that the answer is probably yes. The tiger bit and clawed at me. I'm not too clear on the details, but I plummeted to my death.

Ate Frosted Flakes for breakfast. They are indeed, grrrrrreeat, but I'd like to be the judge of that, Mister Tony the Tiger.

I enjoyed the Frosted Flakes so much this morning, I had almost forgotten about the presumptuous Tiger, but when I walked through the kitchen, I noticed he was looking at me funny. All triumphant like. I distinctly heard him saying "grrreat," but he did it cute, so that it sounded like a purr. A tiger being cute? The only reason a tiger acts cute is so that you'll pet him and he'll bite your arm off. He said it again: "grrrrreat." So I did the De Niro thing on him. "You talkin' to me?" I took out the chainsaw. "You talkin' to me?" I jump-started it. "Then who the hell else are you talkin' to?". I revved it up. "Well I'm the only one here."

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" went the chainsaw.
"Grrrrrrrrrreat" went Tony the Tiger.
"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" went the chainsaw.
"Grrrrrrrrrreat" went Tony the Tiger.
"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" went the chainsaw.
"Grrrrrrrrrreat" went Tony the Tiger.

This went on for a while, but let's just say that the chainsaw had the last word.

I brought the chainsaw down, cutting diagonally across the box, cutting off Tony the Tiger's head. Frosted flakes flew out from the box, and splattered all over the table. I cut again, in the other direction. Frosted flakes kept gushing out as I mercilessly mutilated the box. When I was done, my kitchen floor was covered in pieces of cardboard and flakes.

Note to self: All out of cereal. In any case I think I had better stay away from cereal for a while. It's making me cranky. I'll have something else for breakfast tomorrow.

March 1, 2004

Dreamt I was skydiving. Jumped out of the plane and pulled the cord of the first parachute. It opened. Landed safely.

Had some Pillsbury muffins today. Yummy. Easy to make. Great alternative to cereal. I think I'm over my cereal phase.

It's just that goddamn Pillsbury man. That little chubby bastard!

He'll pay.

Oh yes, he'll pay.