The Old and the Restless

I went over to my mother's house made steaks & potatoes (<---maybe that's where Dan Quale thought the "e" belonged) and my grandmother made popcorn balls. When I was younger, They were pretty good, soft and chewy; but this time they were stale, hard and gum-numbing. I think they were the same ones from my childhood. I'm talkin' the EXACT same ones. You could litterally use them to wage war on Persia. Here's my point. If you don't have sex regularly, you will never be a good cook. For all that's Holy, please consider what I'm telling you. Get married, have lots and lots of sex, and learn how to cook, so you don't break almost all of your grandkids' teeth with stale popcorn balls. This has got to be at least an episode of the Twilight Zone or something. I mean, how else could someone with a genuine smile on their face try so hard to kill you? I'll tell you why: organ donors. Old people attempt to murder and pillage your existance, so when you die, you donate your organs to them. Eventually, they slowly rebuild themselves with the corpses of generations to come, constructing a pseudo-immortal life; trying to escape the retirement home. Why, you ask? Because the retirement homes use recycled popcorn balls that we threw away. It's a catch 22 and we're all doomed when it comes around full circle. Maybe that'll give you something to think about when you foolishly assume that Grandpa doesn't know any better.