Tonight we moon junkies call the moon a Super Moon. It’s not an official astronomical term. It’s just what you say when the Man in the Moon dons a red cape and saves the moon people from General Zod and his flying friends. This fight for truth and justice may even require the moon rotating itself in the wrong direction to reverse the very passing of time and save Princess Moon, Sailor Moon, you know, the one with the boom. This may irrevocably alter the earth’s natural cycles, killing off what’s left of the earth’s whales, but if you ask me it’s damn well worth it. Love is a strict taskmaster.
Occasionally, if you’re very lucky, you may see a blue moon in your lifetime. You may be walking quietly through the woods, and there you’ll see it, among the toadstools: a smurf with its pants down. He may even be smurfing off to a picture of Smurfette, you never know. Filthy little buggars.
A pink moon is even more rare. You may see this if Piglet gets a little tipsy off of honey wine and follows his best friend Pooh’s dreadful example of refusing to wear pants in public. This is extremely rare because Piglet’s usually dressed in his signature striped one-piece leotard, making flashing his pink buttocks a bit more difficult. Especially when drunk off his little Piglet ass and pawing around clumsily with his trotters.
You don’t even want to know what a Super Pink moon is. I’d tell you but I know I’d be censored. Even on the filthy internet!
I ponder these things as I sit in my back yard, toasting marshmallows over the bonfire. I hate marsmallows. Vile chunks of Piglet hooves. But I love toasting things. You know, like bread, bagels, or maybe even myself. Then I’ll rub the toasted marshmallow all over my beard and dunk my beard in an anthill. It’s a rite of passage for the Adams men. Sadly, I only have daughters, so I’ll never get to pass down this noble tradition.
I like to sit back and relax as I think about the deadly moon and all of its ramifications. But it looked so pretty over the trees to the east! The fire was warm and cozy. The ants were especially fiery tonight. Boys, it doesn’t get much better than this.
