Cereal Etiquette
I’d like to be a character on the cover of a breakfast cereal box.
I’m not sure if I’ve written this before, cuz I, like you, don’t waste my time reading shit that I’ve written. I’m certain I’ve mentioned cereal boxes in previous installments of my… wait… why the fuck do they call it breakfast cereal? If I want to eat cereal for lunch, some schmuck, who decides to throw the word breakfast in front of cereal, isn’t going to stop me!
My cereal is, officially, going to be a lunch-dinner cereal. When you go to a grocery store to buy a box of Zoks, or Timsons, or Maple-Walnut Crunch (…actually scrap the Maple-Walnut Crunch… that’s not going to be one of my products… and it may already exist as a “breakfast” cereal) you’re not going to find it in the cereal aisle… nope! My cereal is going to be located right next to the ground beef.
At first, cereal buying audiences aren’t going to understand what’s going on. They’ll say “wait, why do I have to stand in line at the deli… and use this little numbered-ticket-dispenser-thingy to get a box of cereal?” but after a while, everyone will come to understand that cereal doesn’t have to be consumed between the hours of 6am and 11am… and once that happens cereal won’t have a designated aisle at the grocery store anymore; you’ll be able to find it anywhere. Some cereal boxes will be in the deli, others in the frozen food section, a couple boxes will even be grouped in between the lettuce and the celery.
Sometime soon, the cereal makers union is going to hold a big board meeting to try come up with a way to have me eliminated. It’s going to be like a scene from a mob movie, where all the mob bosses from different families band together to take care of a growing threat. One day, I’ll be going about my business, eating a refreshing bowl of cereal at 4pm, when some big guy named Mugsy is going to creep up on me, from behind, with one of those wires that are used to strangle people in TV shows with… but there’s going to be a creaking noise in the floor, as he approaches me, and I’m going to throw my bowl of cereal in his face… and then, while he’s temporarily blinded, I’m going to boil up a kettle of water and when said kettle whistles I’m going to douse Mugsy with the incredibly hot water in the kettle. That’ll teach that punk mob-henchman to mess with me. After that, I’m going to make Mugsy mop my floor, and pour me another bowl of cereal so that I could finish eating my lunch. And after I finish my lunch, I’m going to drive Mugsy down to the hospital so that he can get his burns taken care of.
I hate it when I’m going about my business and some random guy breaks into my home and tries to kill me. Killers seem to lack manners… you don’t just show up to someone’s house, uninvited, leave your dirty shoes on your feet, poke around in rooms that you have no business going into, and try killing them for no good reason. Typically when I visit someone’s manor, I follow the unwritten book of being a guest… which, interestingly enough, is a New York Times best seller (what isn’t).
Anyway, the first thing the book says is that you should never leave your shoes on when you’re in someone’s home. Somewhere in chapter 3 it specifically states that you should never kill the host of the evening for no good reason… but if you do, you should make it a point to clean up after yourself. It’s all etiquette, and mobsters these days just don’t seem to have it.
Recap:
I want to be on the cover of a cereal box;
It’s not breakfast cereal if you want to eat it for lunch;
One day cereal won’t have a specific aisle in grocery stores;
The cereal makers union is a crooked bunch of mob-businessmen;
When killers break into your home, throw cereal and hot water at them;
Mobsters should take etiquette courses before getting promoted to field duty;
I intentionally refrained from talking about serial killers.
Tell your friends to take a box of cereal, from the cereal aisle at their local grocers, and leave it in the canned food section.
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