Suck-toast

 

You bite into some toast. It is not gsuck-toastood toast. It’s probably the worst toast. It is bland and dry, the butter you slapped on just sits there like snot on a crusted-up nose. You hate this toast. You think about how the toast being this bad has to mean something. Has to. There’s no other logical reason that toast would taste this awful.

Everything is capitalism. You read that on a Facebook post at 4 in the morning, so it must be true. It was shared from a page called “Lefty-Loonies” which seems totally legit.

The toast is capitalism. The toast is symbolic of millennial disenchantment with late stage capitalism. Truly, the toast does suck. But what of the environment that produces suck-toast? What sort of broken system built around competition would allow a product to be created that sucks this bad? And what does it say about you, the fact that you keep eating the toast?

It means you are a slave to the system. No matter how much your lot in life tastes like suck-toast, you’ll keep eating. It’s all you have. You go to work and munch, munch, munch. You cash your crumbly check and it’s munch, munch, munch. You pay taxes and pick up your dog’s mess, still munch, munch, munch. You start young, grow old, and finally spit out the suck-toast at the end of your days. You might say: “goddammit” and then promptly die.

So what of the present? Is there anything you can do to stop suck-toast? One would think adding butter, or jam, or peanut spread, of Nutella would help. But those are just different flavors of suck. The toast is still toast. It’s like awful cold medicine. Sure, it says cherry, it says bubblegum, it says watermelon, but really it tastes like swallowing a flavored condom. Still suck.

So now, reading this stunning analysis of the suck-toast, you’re staring at your toast with distaste. You think: “I must cast off the shackles of the toast!”

But you can’t. The suck-toast is invincible. You can munch, and munch, and munch, but it never goes away. All it does is suck.

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, a piece of the toast will stick to the roof of your mouth. When you try to swallow it, it will slide down your throat and lodge there, like a mountain climber stuck in a crevasse. Then the suck-toast will suffocate you, and you’ll die early. You won’t even get to say: “goddammit” which is one of life’s carnal pleasures.

Of course, there are those of you who don’t eat toast. I can see you from the corners of my eyes, like shadow people after no sleep. You always have cereal, you’ve never forgotten to buy milk, you eat powerbars and grass for breakfast.

Well, in that case.

You suck.

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