The Unknown

I would like to take this opportunity to thank Youtube and Google for always being there by my side when the bus seats are vacant, uhh, sorry I meant when problems arise. The latest complication occurred just a while ago as I was about to make Milo and was required to open a new can of condensed milk.

It was a dark and stormy night, a shadow of darkness had engulfed the everlasting skies, bringing upon a wave of gloom consuming everything but the lucent beam of the midnight moon. Then, hunger burned through faltering bridges of my belly, as it constantly cried for help, creating in me a sense of fear, an uneasiness that drove me on my conquest to search for food to put an end to this crippling fear for good.

So anyway I ran past the summer glades, crawled through the deep-shaded caves, climbed up the misty mountains, and arrived at a place so unfamiliar, it was almost alien-like I should say, the locals in my house called it a "kitchen". They say that even the toughest of men fail to survive there, as kitchens were usually haunted by female auras that would suck the masculinity out of men when entered. Story goes that there once lived a famous tribal warrior called Lukukuka who wanted to make a sandwich. Lukukuka was so brave that he went into the kitchen all by himself. He managed to make himself a sandwich, but just as he was about to eat it, the sandwich turned into a polka dot fire-breathing frog with chopsticks. Lukukuka survived the fire, but he was no match for the godly chopsticks.

Upon hearing this terrifying tale, I was more determined than ever to carry out this near-impossible conquest. That's right, I'm going into the kitchen, I'm the fuckin man yo. So I offered a prayer to the kitchen gods, asking for permission to enter the devil's lair, and received my approval through a letter from the Obama Administration. They sent me a Hello Kitty keychain too, what a bunch of nice lads don't you think?

So I manned up and started searching for a tool to assist me in my journey to Utopia, a tool stronger than the strongest toilet paper, faster than the fastest garden snail, and sharper than the sharpest eraser. A tool, like the "can-opener". In all my 21 years of breathing, I have never been required to use a can-opener, until now. For long periods, I struggled to figure out the ingenious physics behind this mystifying tool. The key to unlocking its hidden powers were well beyond my capabilities, so I called in my brother, hoping that he could solve the Can-inci Code to this ancient artifact. The outcome was as I expected, the intelligence in his bald head was no different to mine. We tried everything, even calling the fire brigade, but they were too busy doing less important stuff, like putting out fires and saving children from burning houses.

As a last resort, I turned to Google, which then linked me to a video on Youtube. Twenty seconds into the video and I realized that the sun was hot today; a rare phenomena. Anyway, after watching the video, I learned that you're not supposed to use a can-opener as you would with a sledgehammer. Ahhhh, that was the problem. So I immediately took the next flight to China to master the ancient Kung Fu art of can-opening. 33 years later, I returned with insane new skills, superior technique, and a bowl of noodles from Shanghai. On my first try, I managed to dent the can. On my second try, I double dented it. I knew I was getting there, it was only a matter of time. 64,578 tries later, I got it, the can was opened. It stood no chance, it was a victory, a victory for mankind. True story.

Note: This post is purely meant satirically, no feminism intended.