My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

Oggy has become an amazing writer. It wasn’t always that way. Consistently a chop licker lately. I’d given up on him as a rejected Mamma’s boy, but he turned the venom into anti-malaria pills and he has weirder analogies than me.

It’s hard to read about how bad the world is, but when he took Exxon Mobil’s side against Vermont recently, I saw he broke on through. He lost the knee jerk defense and agreed with the enemy. That’s hard to do. Takes, apparently, over one hundred thousand miles in an old van.

People have made fun of him since I’ve known him, which was high school. If someone calls you fat you look down and grab a bit of your stomach and think, shit, they’re right. He is at the point of ostracism where he looks down and says, fat? yes. I’m eating what you feed me. Can I have some help finding healthy food?

Oggy is the guy you don’t want in your neighborhood. You don’t want him to come visit and sleep on your couch. He’s not fat. He eats vegetables thrown in dumpsters. But the fat is modernity. Yes, he has a computer. Yes he hates computers. He isn’t Jesus. He’s the guy saying, “Jesus still let’s you sin.”

Have you read it lately?

don’t park that van here any more