Global Warming
I've noticed, lately, that there are too many people out there who don't brush their teeth and don't keep their breath stinking fresh; me being one of them. Sometimes, people don't have access to good toothpaste, or breath mints, or sometimes, there's just people who talk too damn much. That type of shit is fucking up our solar system and shit. It's pretty obvious that the more talking that comes from people with bad breath, the more global warming temperatures go up and shit. This is why I propose that everyone in the universal, stratospherical world shut the fuck up. The less bad breath that enters my air, the less problems we'll face concerning global warming. That's why I'll usually restricticize my views and opinions to the internet. That and because too many people have complimented me on my stank breath, which can't be a good thing, no matter how nice the compliment sounds. When the worldly population is silent, at the end of the day, Earth might just thank you for helping to save its environment with chocolate milk and a ginormous 12 foot long PB&J sub or hero or hoagie, or whatever the hell you want to call it.
Speaking of science: These astrologers over at NASA keep trying to think outside of the box. They're always looking out in space and beyond, trying to find new stars, black holes, and flying nebulae and shit. They stay sending morse code messages to pieces of rocks, which they believe to be some type of alien life form and shit. Not to sound too egotistical, but if there are any living species existing outside of this planet, it's because we flew them out there in a rocket ship. How the hell else could they have got out there?! I got a news flash for NASA. I've just discovered a brand new star existing in our solar panel and shit. That star is me, and I'm over here, bitches. Open your telescopic eyes and watch the birth of a star that will live past the days of telling time of scientifical theorizationizing and shit. And know this: If some bitch's black hole is going to try to consume me, you best believe that I'm going to wear protection. Believe that!
On the more intellectual and sophisticated tip, 2 + 2 = 4. Sip your spiked tea and put your pinkies in the air if you feel me.
These messages were brought to you by an idiotical genius.
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