What Kind of Rod Is a Celestial Maiden? And What Rod Could Possibly Be Worthy of This ID?

2006/10/4 15:45:55

Heaven really does deserve a beating. Even if, to prove that its eyes aren't located on its backside, it sat by two thousand years ago and watched as a round of copulation in the wild fields produced a little dog called Confucius the Second, letting this mad dog bark for two thousand years, letting male ape-men call any rod "Old Second" — then why today, precisely today, did you suddenly open your historically slap-worthy backside and release a massive stinking fart that can't even climb a tree, along with a small stinking fart pending deportation?

Rumor has it that on Heaven's backside there's a species of parasitic worm called "celestial maiden." Whether celestial maidens are related to rods, this ID has no interest. Because even if a celestial maiden were some kind of rod, what rod could possibly be worthy of this ID? Even that Old Second called Confucius has long been beaten by this ID into a consumptive wreck. What kind of rod is a secondless Old Second anyway?

Whether "mutual inability to climb trees" is a fundamental characteristic of a certain category of rods, this ID has not investigated and will not comment. I only know that rods that can mutually climb trees refer to each other as "comrades." As for the one pending deportation, that isn't necessarily a comrade — in contemporary society, those pending deportation are generally trafficked rods.

There is a type of rod called an "iron pestle," which was once carried around by a certain ancient celestial maiden — pickled in wine since birth — who would accost everyone and ask: "Can my rod be ground into a needle?" It seems celestial maidens can degenerate too. If any celestial maiden today were to carry around a rod accosting everyone with similar questions, wouldn't they be beaten to pulp and brewed into celestial whip wine long ago? After all, nowadays rods have long since all become needles — what's there to grind?

As for the one pending deportation, once deported, they face two choices: mutual inability to climb trees, or mutual tree-climbing. This depends on Heaven's backside. As for what Heaven's backside is like, go ask the parasitic lice of that little dog called Confucius the Second — the one that's been going around for two thousand years, carrying a rod, accosting everyone, hoodwinking them that it's been groping Heaven's backside all along.