When a mommy and daddy love each other VERY MUCH, they take one big rock and one medium rock. Then they SMASH the littler rock over and over again to the pulsating, primal rhythm of unexpressed rage. Over and over until the smaller, helpless little rock is nothing but a bunch of shattered fragments of itself. But don’t worry, because the littler rock deserved it. It was a naughty rock. It NEEDED to be smashed into little pieces. Just look at the dress it was wearing, the little tramp. The little rock knew the big rock had a hard day at work and was stressed about money. The little rock provoked the big rock.
Then, the big rock has to go to a stupid court-appointed anger management course, but that's okay. The little rock is already smashed into pieces, so you have lots of little baby rocks, and the big rock isn't going to learn anything there anyway, so the cycle of rock-violence will continue. We don't have to worry about a little baby rock shortage anytime soon.
At this point, you need to get a venture capitalist. You make some interesting packaging, and you take each of the little rock fragments and separate them from each other, with no respect for the rock fragments feelings, or even caring if the little rock's fragments are ready to be weaned. You ship the baby rock pieces all over the world, and sell them to stupid consumers. You then take the venture capitalists money, create some accounting discrepancies, and move to Tahiti in the dark of the night when no one is looking.
Importain Note: This essay was intended to be humorous, and in no way is intended to further hurt the victims of rock domestic violence. We, at MadPirateBippy’s webpage, realize that rocks have feelings too, and that court appointed rock anger management classes are a sound alternative to traditional punishment methods for rage-prone rocks. Thank you.
Ed Note- It was late at night when I wrote this. I swear to god, I do not need to be institutionalized. I really am of sound mind, but for some reason when I wrote this I was laughing so hard I almost peed my pants. I highly recommend reading this at three a.m. when you have been awake since five a.m. that morning. It's really funny then.