Yeah, hi there, I think I have an issue with my Mango Super Drive. I’m trying to rip my music CD collection, and I have Madonna’s Music in there, and it’s only showing 10 tracks instead of 11. Please, help me! It's broken and I wanna just die!

Well, hi Patricia, I’m Costas. Of course I understand this is super important for you. I always hate it when my Mango Super Drive doesn't show all the tracks on my Madonna CDs. I will definitely help you out today with your issue. Would you mind going to the Lunchpad on the left-hand side in your Duck bar?

Aha!

Great! Do you see ‘Dicktionary’ there?

Aha!

Well, did you know that ‘Dicktionary’ is connected with both an Eenglish dictionary and Wikipeedia? Pretty cool, uh?

Aha!

I know, right? What do you say, let’s type ‘Madonna discography’…

Aha!

…now. If you check for ‘Music’ you’ll see that the Standard edition of the album had actually 10 tracks, but it was the International edition that had 11. You probably thought you had the other one.

Wow, I totally forgot! You're amazing! Thank you so much!

There! See? Aren’t you satisfied with the assistance you got from Mango today?

(…)

[Inspired by real life events.]

the night was still young, I was lucid and I had it all planned, we were still catching up, and we ate, drank and laughed, and we both ignored the bogeyman unnoticeably –how civil!– creeping around, chewing off the air’s big chunks of a b-movie’s sensual, horror plot waiting to unravel, while I was mustering the courage, to sit closer and lean over to you, to reach the end of the barrel– but amid indecisive sighs, when I opened my eyes, I saw the alarm clock’s digits, alas, flashing at me ‘7 30’, commanding me Rise! ah the knackering, dream-twist realisation– exhausted and robbed off of another night’s anticipation, I dragged my self-harming shadow under the cold running shower, and for the sake of monsters, I snoozed again my desire

Y0u’re e1ther soc1ety mater1al 0r–

There’s n0 acceptable state of be1ng 1n the m1ss1ng part 0f the sentence ab0ve. 

0utcast! 1 by 1 c0me to m1nd the gr0ups 1’ve been part 0f. 

Repet1t1veness, r0ut1nes, f0rmulas, recycled 1deas, and n0rms: 

they perpetuate the ugl1ness; 0f c0urse they’d leave me appalled. 

Take 20-year-0ld, breathtak1ng, 1mpulse-awaken1ng beaut1es. 

1n the c0ntext 0f the1r parents 0r the1r fr1ends, they seem reduced to c0p1es.

Nat10nal1ty, Rel1g10n, Patr1archy, C0rp0rat10ns: fa1l-safe mechan1sms and guarantees, struggl1ng to c0nserve the a1r 1n the r00m as 1t was: 

Breathe 1n synchr0ny – 0r d0n’t. 

Y0u’re y0ur parents –s0rry, 0nly 1 s1ze allowed 1n the pr0duct10n l1ne– 0r y0u’re n0t.

D0n’t d3v1at3, 1 sa1d: "Y0u’re e1ther s0c1ety mater1al 0r–"

Οf course… maybe there is another way. 

Accept your layers, ( ( ( tell' em to fuck off ) ) ) 

and be a happy onion.