Later tonight, I'm gonna poke you with a stick. When I say "you", I really mean the Rights of Man. The stick isn't real, but it will hurt at least as much as a real one would, especially if it were made out of ultra-strong titanium spikes and also had holes drilled through it to reduce wind resistance. I learned the part about the helpful holes from watching TV and films that depicted college fraternity hazing rites that involved paddles and butts. Anyone else who saw these movies and then went on to join a fraternity, which would necessarily be run by other people who had watched these same movies, has a little explaining to do. Not to me, but to little parts of themselves. I could care less. The assaulted legion of man-boys' raw, bloodied ass-cheeks, however, deserve their day in court. Perhaps a legal scholar could enlighten me on how a class-action lawsuit would work in this context, wherein the buttocks are considered complainants in a struggle against the total Man.
Addendum: After a quick Google, it turns out that The Rights of Man v. The Rights of Ass-Cheeks (1974) is not merely a river in China. You guys are in so much deep shit.
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