Kids tomorrow won’t rock.

If we made children carry heavy rocks as they grew up, they’d probably grow up really strong with rock shapes permanently imprinted into them. Seems like a win-win situation to me. And they can celebrate turning twenty by finally being allowed to pass their rocks on to new kids. They’ll be called Generation Rock. Because they will suck as a generation, the phrase “that rocks” will fade away and be replaced by “that barks” and the downward spiral of civilization shall continue.

Ah well. It started off as a good plan.

Apart from this, I have little to report. So I won’t. Go away.

  1. See, that’s what I say, but the ladies they don’t listen.

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