Furthermore, ecology does not only have a natural aspect but...
What the...? How did I get here? I was diligently writing my paper when suddenly, BAM... I'm staring at the ol' Chastity Belt. But I'll admit, it's kind of a comforting feeling to find myself here. It's like that time I blacked out on New Year's and woke to find myself in a Wendy's having purchased a Spicey Chicken Sandwich Combo Meal; even when my brain shut off my body knew exactly what it needed to do. Later, I found out that I had herpes. True story.
And despite this, I've always been afraid to get hypnotized. The hypnotist that came to my highschool to perform every year always said "I can't make anyone do anything that is against their morals", but that's obviously a load of horseshit. He has to say that to cover his ass so when some underage girl starts doing naked jumping jacks he can blame it on her "loose moral fiber." But I've just never been able to take the chance that that underage girl might turn out to be me. My parents would be in the audience watching me in my birthday suit doing jumping jacks and lunges, naughty parts dangling all over the place, and then I'll cartwheel all the way to Wendy's and, somehow, my subconscious will know that I want a #6 Combo.
Then my parents will show up and apologize for my loose moral fiber to the employees and restaurant patrons, drape a sweater over me, and then pay for my food because they know I'll need it to console me once I see the video they took.
And despite this, I've always been afraid to get hypnotized. The hypnotist that came to my highschool to perform every year always said "I can't make anyone do anything that is against their morals", but that's obviously a load of horseshit. He has to say that to cover his ass so when some underage girl starts doing naked jumping jacks he can blame it on her "loose moral fiber." But I've just never been able to take the chance that that underage girl might turn out to be me. My parents would be in the audience watching me in my birthday suit doing jumping jacks and lunges, naughty parts dangling all over the place, and then I'll cartwheel all the way to Wendy's and, somehow, my subconscious will know that I want a #6 Combo.
Then my parents will show up and apologize for my loose moral fiber to the employees and restaurant patrons, drape a sweater over me, and then pay for my food because they know I'll need it to console me once I see the video they took.
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