Welcome to the internet, it is indeed a strange place.

So, right, over the past couple of weeks, I've been without a television. Not that I really minded, but, being socially inept, my main source of enjoyment was taken away from me.

This past weekend, there was a little event in the sporting world called the "super bowl." Perhaps you've heard of it. Without a television, I didn't get to witness this event first hand, but I hear there was some sort of mammary mishap that happened during halftime. Yes, ladies and gentleman, there was a boobie on television. Not just any ordinary boobie mind you; this boobie belonged to one Miss Janet Jackson. Apparently, this incident was on the news or something, maybe you saw it, that is, if it wasn't obscured by poison being sent to congress or some kind of fighting going on in some desert country.

Now, I didn't get to see this "teat offensive" take place in real time, however, I thank the internet for wiping its hands off on its pants, screen capturing it, and making it available for me, in jpeg form. So, as I sat behind my computer, slowly getting a tumor from its radiant glow, I looked at this picture and thought to myself, "You know, this remind me a lot of otter pie."

"Otter pie?" You may be saying to yourself. Yes, otter pie. For one, I've never seen an otter pie in person either, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't exist, nor does it mean that it isn't disgusting. Now, I'm not necessarily saying that Janet's "fun bags" are disgusting, but it's hard not to imagine (or fantasize) her kiddie diddler brother's head on top of her body.

Otter pie isn't really the zenith of what I would consider a proper meal either. When I think food, my thoughts don't immediantly turn to otter pie. Just like when I think football, oh yeah, I think Janet Jackson. (what?) No. I would just assume take a spoon and shove it up my ass.

Also, otter pie is typically accompanied by some sort of other, horrid side dish, like eel stew or something. In the case of this half time show, it was Justin Timberlake. However, he's another thing completely.

I'm having trouble coming up with more euphemisms for Janet's boobies. So I will now make a new one up and continue using that one from here on in. From now on, Janet Jackson's boobie will be called "jiggly fruit."

So after three days and four keyboards, I finally closed the window containing Janet Jackson's jiggly fruit. I was glad I did. Which is another way her jiggly fruit is like otter pie. When it's gone, you're happy. Boy was I ever happy. It was at this point, I got a phone call. My new television had arrived. So I leaned my towel up against the wall, went out and got my new TV. I plugged it in, turned on CNN, and the first thing I saw was Janet's jiggly fruit. I began to weep. The last time I cried that hard was when they cancelled M*A*S*H. Then I promptly smashed my new television with a mustard jar and took a nap. What a week.