A lament

Its tough being socially inept and deformed.  I wish everyone just assumed I had rabies, or that I was dropped on my head as a child, repeatedly.  The truth is, some deformities are cooler than others.  I would choose acromegaly over proteus syndrome any day.  If I had Angelman syndrome, I would be at a loss for choosing among options, but I would laugh a lot.  I suppose, if I were a dwarf I would have it made.  Or, would I?  It would be lonely, living without my conjoined twin, my sirenomelia, my secret mystery fistula.  Time to ponder over a bucket of chicken heads.

Why I Do Not Understand Twentieth Century Politics

"I'm feeling kinda Hitlerey".  A diaper clad Baby Huey delivers the line, onstage, to a cheering Nuremberg.  The salutes start.  Seig Heil!, the spectators shout in unison as the scene fades to black and white.  Two mortified parents look on as their offspring, never the funniest of the Saturday Morning Cartoons, or truth be told, never among the B list, screams in German.  He has found his apotheosis.  Silence. The crowds disappear.  "I'm feeling kind of Hitlery" he pouts.  Bombs explode above his cold bunker.  He puts the pistol in his mouth.