Milk’s Favorite Cookie

I was horrified this morning to discover the grim visage of death awaiting me in the form of delicious white sugar paste seemingly randomly shaped and sculpted upon a thin chocolate cookie by the unseen hand (and…uh…sculpting utensils…) of fate.

Keep in mind that the following picture contains imagery not suitable for children and those easily scared when confronted with imagery portraying the best selling cookie of the 20th century as the thanatological avatar of Mistress Death herself.

It’s hard to tell in the picture because I am stupid and didn’t focus my cell phone camera properly before taking the picture, and also because pictures contain no auditory information…but it spoke to me, and foretold the curious story of my future demise. The events and circumstances related to me were so shocking, so unspeakably obscene and ghastly…that to recount it again in this space would be to doom all those I love and respect with a terrible weight I can ask no one else to shoulder, one to cause bouts of troubling and fitful sleep, to be cursed; to be perpetually awoken for the rest of your lives from nightmares full of cruel and dark imagery of scope so large that it escapes and defies human efforts to fully describe.

An auspicious start to the work day. One would wonder what more frightening events could possibly follow in the wake of this foreboding dark omen…

…but I already know.

Mr. Christie, you make good cookies!



Destined to fight the world's evil, The WAMBAG endures massive battles involving impossible stunts, races on horse-pulled carriages, and the desecration of enchanting medieval castles (all done with dizzying computer graphics). Not only does the eye candy keep on coming, the tongue-in-cheek writing and deep Transylvanian accents perfect the film with a dose of dark humor.



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