Tjoday's Tjop Stjory

So, I show up at the protest, ready to share my voice with the gathered throngs. All of us there to voice our displeasure over something. They've got their reasons for being there, I'm sure, although I wouldn't have a clue as to what in Christ's Acne Cream those reasons would be. You see, I've got my own agenda for being there. I'm there to protest them. That's right, I'm protesting protesting.

A solo cowboy in a stanky sea of hippie-crites, I stand among them, armed only with a sign that reads: "Take A Shower Not a Stand!" on one side and: "You're not making a difference, you're only making a lot of noise!" on the flipside. Once immersed deep inside their mass, I begin the chants:

"Down with chanting! Down with chanting!"

"1-2-3-4 Shouldn't You Really Be Home Right Now?"

And the most complicated chant of all (for seasoned anti-protesters only):

"When's the last time this sort of thing really worked? What, like, the 60's? Yeah, maybe the 60's. Christ, I mean think about that! The 60's were a long time ago! Now, the only thing the denizens of America care about is whether or not baseball players cheat, who the next "American Idol" "champion" is and if Brittany Spears is knocked up. Besides, nobody likes a hippie! Unless "hippie" is short for hippiepotamus. Everybody likes a good hippiepotamus.......They're very cute....you know.....ummm.......in their own way and shit......" (trail off and repeat)

Now, Dear Fjordlings, you're probably thinking to yourself, "Cowboy, or no, surely you must be worried about standing among those whom you mock." To that I say;

That's the last thing I'm worried about. What I most worried about is that you guys think I'm paranoid.........