Tackdouche
Once, back when I was in second grade, I sat on a tack.
Sam Boyd put it on my seat when I wasn’t looking during arts and crafts period.
The pain was terrible. I cried, and the teacher had to call my parents to come pick me up.
So when I say that this pic makes me want to force a hundred second graders to run through a gymnasium of tacks barefoot, it’s not that I’m not sensitive to how much their little feetsies will hurt. I am. Believe me.
But in a karmic universe in which injustice is repaid only in subsequent pain, that gymnasium full of crying second graders with bleeding feetsies is the only answer to this picture of Tackdouche and the Doublemint Cutes.
So really, children. Don’t be mad at me for forcing you to run over a thousand tacks barefoot until your feetsies hurt. It’s the only cosmic answer. Think of the larger picture.
