Dippin’ the Kit-Kat in Jiffy

I’ll admit that I’m the type of person who’s always let the “little things” in life get under my skin — trivial shit that burrows into my open wounds deeper than screwworm larvae hopped up on fentanyl-laced meth.

Well, more accurately, the little things used to make me bat-shit crazy, but then I realized the entire Universe is fucking fake, and reality is probably just a big game of a singular consciousness alone for all eternity mindfucking Itself, so I calmed down a tad…

But here is one more “little” thing I need to purge from my system. And I find writing always proves to be my best personal therapy… way better than paying some asshole douchebag a hundred bucks an hour to reach the “brilliant” conclusion I’m a misfit fuckup.

Same time next week Dr. Cocksucker? Pardon? Yeah of course I’m taking my meds. Big Pharma would never steer anyone wrong…

Anyhoo, today we’re talking about something I hoped would never gain traction in mainstream consciousness, but, alas, Mikey is mindfucked again…

Our topic is the Mandela Effect. If you’re unfamiliar with what that is, I’ll give you a succinct synopsis, quoted directly from Wookiepedia:

Some douchebag back in the day started a viral conversation about remembering how Nelson Mandela died in jail, instead of becoming the first black president of an apartheid South Africa. And that started an incessant chain reaction of self-absorbed douchebags who claim to remember things differently than what history says, waking them up to the fact they are 8th-dimensional superbeings immune to the flippant resets of an artificial matrix.

Thank you Wookiepedia, couldn’t have said that better myself!

If you want to do a Gaggle search of all the bizarre “glitches” that’ve occurred since then, you won’t be disappointed by the list. And many of them may just start you second-guessing your reality…

Sex in the City.

Captain Crunch.

Fruit Loops.

Kit-Kat

Jiffy peanut butter

Luke, I’m your father.

Berenstain Bears.

And on and on. The list grows ever fucking endless…

But not a single one of these motherfuckers who claim to be “Mandela Effected” will ever admit there’s the SLIGHTEST possibility their memory is erroneous.

Fuck no!

The only viable explanation is that the Matrix reset itself somewhere in the timeline, but only they, THEY, and a small group of “superior, non-NPC” others had the mental fortitude to see past the black cat dejavu’s of a constructed, prison-planet hologram.

Well, kudos to you my 5th-dimensional friends! I hope to one day prove I have an “old soul” as valiant as yours, and join you in the ranks of ego-driven superiority you hold so dear!

I do have one question though…

Why are all Mandela Effects relegated to corporate logos and Hollywood-related productions?

Does anyone remember Hitler winning the war? Does anyone remember when we had velociraptors as pets because a meteor never hit? Does anyone remember learning Russian in high school because we were conquered by Commies? Does anyone, anyone, Bueller, Bueller, remember taking iodine tabs and living in caves for a decade after nukes hit all the major cities?

No, of course not. The only timeline glitches and resets involve cereal boxes, racist Jewish bears, and an asthmatic Hollywood cyborg cutting his kid’s hand off.

I watched The Empire Strikes Back 14 times in the theatre (because my mom was in love with Harrison Ford), and my brother owns all the VHS tapes, CD’s, DVD’s, and all the rebooted bullshit George Lucas fucked with. But we’re both totally Mandela mindfucked “knowing” that the line was, “No. I am your father.”

Superior 11th-dimensional humans, who remember the line differently, usually avoid sharing with others the fact they annually dress up in Star Wars garb to attend pathetic conventions in the hope a grizzled Mark Hamill will sign their 1977 poster that’s been hanging on their wall in their bedroom in their parents’ house where they still reside.

Ah, I see. A glitch in the Matrix has no power over you, but you don a Chewbacca suit thrice yearly because your “old soul” is ready to advance to the New Earth? Yeah, the puppet masters have no control over you, dear advanced jagoff.

But who am I to judge?

I’m wrong all the fucking time, and there’s nothing wrong with being wrong. I just want to say, for the record, that it takes a certain humility to admit our fuckups, or at least to admit we aren’t 100% sure about something that happened 30 years ago.

Maybe someday, when we both grow the fuck up, we can have a serious conversation about Life, the Universe, and Everything.

Till then, take your Froot Loops, your KitKat bars, your Jif, your Sex and The City, your Magic Mirror, and jam the collective mess up your ass, where your head currently resides.

Sorry to break it to ya bud, but you ain’t no superior snowflake. You’re melting here just as fast as the rest of us.

See you in the ocean, Cap’n.