You remember how much fun sugar was when you were a kid? The joy and endless bounds of  exuberant, hysterical bubbly lunacy you feel that causes you to race around the back yard like as if you a rabid animal foaming at the mouth. That first gulp of soda which introduced what some might consider to kittie cocaine. How about pixie stixs?

 Yeah, you know that wondrous fruit flavored candy that was and is a refined, high-test form of  sugar cane that turned ordinary children into raving mauditable, speaking in tongues lunies. Now they were anything but nonaddictive. It was almost like a slow progression of dependency. First you and your friends were eating the delectable sweets like this:

And what at first was just a few sips soon turned into this orgy of red, blue, green, and orange powdered euphoric depravity of your childhood innocence rotting away. An innocence that would soon decay into this:

  One day you get dared by your friends to snort a stick, and wham bam! Just covering your taste buds with sweetness just isn't enough, you just have to fill your nasal cavity with the powdery fruitiness. And then well, nothing else matters; it's all about that next paper straw of legalized candy depravity that offers you an experience similar to that of "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factor", but only to leave your with burning nostrils, sweet tasting post nasual drip, sleepless nights and pissed off parents. Under the influence of the supposedly harmless treat, the adults in your life have no other choice, but to believe that you have ADHD, are mentally disturbed, or even austic. So you get dosed up with Ritalin, get thrown in the special ED call with those kids who pretend that their constantly driving trucks, wear mittens and have signs hanging are their necks that say "Don't Touch! Will Bite!". The kids that have creepy imaginary friends named Capt. Dinky the happy psychotic, joyful ferret clown. They have stabbed other teachers with the plastic craft scissors and drawn blood. Plus, they have a note from they psychologist that they can't be around animals.

What happens after? Well you become dependent on antipsychotic medication, confused sexual identities, G.E.D. programs, community colleges, dating on "Craig's List", miscarriages, and eventually civil union with a cross gender humanoid who calls his genitals "vanis", "pegina", or a he-clit". Why? It's all because of that pumped up jr. crystal meth called "Pixy Stix".

So what can be done? How do we stop this scourge of  sweet, destructive, sugary goodness? How do we raise awareness? What do we do? Sue the candy corporation, start a Splenda withdrawal and maintenance program? It's hard to say. It's just candy right? Just like pain killers are okay because they're prescribed. So while more needless children's lives are destroyed by behavioral problems from those devil straws, we as a culture shrug it off as nothing more than kids indulging in mischievous treats, and behaving like "kids". What ever happened to good old "Babe Ruths?" or "Snickers". But no, now we have hyper pumped up "Candy ", that because it's made under the name "Wonka" is okay. So, maybe there just isn't that easy of an answer. Just like Reagan's "War On Drugs" which resulted in the sale of weapons to Iran to be given to right wing death squads in El Salvador which General Oliver North was later accused of. And now the Republics are secretly trying to find the "Gold Of Olie North". Just like that elborate conspiracy of Oliver North's Gold, it's complicated. So, again I don't know what can be done. There are no easy answers when it comes to the corruption of naive, fluffy innocence. But one this can be said:

DAMN YOU NESTLY! DAMN YOU WONKA! DAMN YOU! WHY! WHY!
WWWWWWWHHHHHHHYYYYYYYY!

Okay, it's joke time! Yea!

So here it is:

What floats, is black and white and red all over?

You know the answer? What we're gonna say a newspaper? Well, it's not. It's a dead penguin that's been malled to death by a Leopard Seal. Ha Ha! Bet you didn't that one coming.

And now we come to the best part of this whole blog/literary magazine: "What Really Chaffs My Nuts".

In this issue the topic will be people who avoid important conversations by ignoring what you have to say, and changing the subject. What exactly do I mean? Well take this for example, my wife will say something to my mother, and I'll try to discuss it, and what happens? It usually goes something like this:

Lou: Honey, why the hell did you say that to my mother? Huh?

Wife: I'm sorry! I forgot that you didn't want me to say anything.

Lou: Well no shit! Why would I want my mother to know to that I have a fascination for surgical instruments, latex, and four point restrains! What the fuck!

Wife: I'm sorry!

Lou: No, no! Damn it! Now my mom gonna be telling me to make sure I'm safe, and to always us a safety word ...

Wife: Ooooh! I gotta peee! Why do I always do this! Decide to wait to go until we get home to tinkle!

Lou: Honey!

Wife: And your gonna kill me, but I saw this really cute pair of shoes, but they cost about two hundred dollars!

Lou: What the fuck!
(The only sound that can be heard is that of me, Lou, bashing my fucking head against the wall.)

Yes, those are the kind of people that are so desperate not to have to take about an uncomfortable topic that they change the subject, like trying to get a straight answer from a politician. I mean what the hell does which restaurant having the best chinese food have anything to do with why the hell your best friend got drunk and then grabbed your wife's ass? And what makes it even worse is when they bring up the subject, and then when the conversation goes south then they make a wise crack. In all honesty if you bring up the topic of pubic lice, and then the discussion strikes a nerve, do us all a favor and do try to turn it around on those involved. We're not the ones who were trying to extract information about how you know if you got pubic, crotch dwelling insects, exposing we're impulse to fuck anything that has a hole and a heart beat. And by the way use the special shampoo and that special blue comb.

That's what really pisses me off is that inconsiderate bullshit like that. Like I just did. Did that whole clip have anything to do with what we were talking about. No! Was it just a way of me distracting you from the fact that I was completely and totally unprepared for this segment, maybe! Oh look! It's Jessica Alba!

   Doesn't piss you off, the fact that I'm being such a hypocrite right now? I know that's the point I'm trying to make. Awww! Look Puppies and kittens!

   But anyway, I know that when I someone does this kind of thing I just wanna slice the flesh off of their body  and feed it them. Yo! Kool! A dog on a skateboard!

Anyway that's what really chaffs my nuts!


So until next time my friends,

Lou Ford.