Diving into a lake can bring many consequences, you could go head first, risking the elastic support of your bottom to break tension and fly off into the great depths of the water, leaving you to your birthday suit and a new shade of red - or alternatively, you could go feet first, and risk the ever-so painful lake-diving-wedgie, like the pieces of material of your bottom are diving head first into areas of your body not so kind. Irregardless, two choices immediately present themselves in lake diving. But, you must first prepare yourself with proper stretching and a suitable location (I do not recommend locations with rocky bottoms or shallow waters, for you folks out there that already reduced your IQs in doing so). A favorite location of mine as a child was this lake that floated kilometer-long log-bridges. You could walk halfway through to Kathmandu it seemed at times, but the platform gave opportunities for diving, swimming, floating, laying, and the odd log-battle supreme - where either kid does his best imitation of a log-roller in competition at the great lumberjack convention.
2 pinches BBQ - 1 dash wasabi
I quite enjoyed those times as a kid - good environment, a heck of a lot of freedom and genetic make-up to make my short frame provide low-gravitational centrifugal forces that would rival even the greatest lumberjack in log rolling olympics. I was spliced from two varied gene pools - I'm a mixed race, to be stereotypical. One born from the Far East, one born from the Far West. Brute brunt and sockless sandals - childhood brought it all - forming a Wolverine of black stripes and perfect toes. My mutated family of X-Men didn't really produce any superpowers, but at times, staring off into the forest at my doorsteps, i'd think radiative superpowers are bullshit - Asterix is the superhero of choice - protector of the Gaul against the Roman Empire with his trusty sidekick Obelix and Dogmatix. Yes, childhood was fun - imaginative and too short.
But my ever-changing body brought puberty - the awkward spurt of cell growth that changed my body, introduced me to shaving and pushed me into the world of Don Juan. It was inevitable, my genetic soup of cells and solar soaking was breaking through - i grew up. But then again who isn't predisposed to the same tale of growth? We're all the same monkeys typing on the the same typewriter at this point - aren't we?
Repeat steps 1-22 with Crosses and Tees
Genetic make-up of chromosomes, nucleotides, chromatin, adenine, guanine, thymine, cytosine shook me out of my childhood. When I finally discovered and understood the great magician's work of chemical structure and natural selection through the magic and dance of the common fruit fly, eye colour, wing structure and leg prints, I was enlightened. No more voodoo curses on me - no more hell or heaven - no more sticks and stones - they won't break my bones - genetics opened the door. And what a door it opened....
The X-Y chromosomes determines if an adam or an eve are created - with eve taking two XXs and adam lifting a leg and taking a XY. I got my X chromosome from my mom, everyone human has this in common, at the very least. The surface of my empty canvas was then blanketed with sculptures and structure, beating to the codon's pulse, my egg and my seed were intertwined and commingled to spin a vast web of wild and weird songs, but always abiding to the magical tune to the circle of fifths, until the canvas' far stretch reached 23 pairs, XY and 1-22, these chromosomal Cro-Magnon mixing nucleotides and genes - fit perfect to a Levi 501 - red label.
Cook on high in microwave for 85 years
The human genome project battles on, tracing the roots of evolutionary genius to the cause of it all - our murky mutated make-up of primordial goop. As almost scripted from the tales of Wolverine and Professor Xavier, the radiative forces of the sun mutates us into these creatures of habit, routine, curiosity and hunger. Our bodies process the garbage we shove into our faces, while the brain is a mindless zombie to the true contents of their nature. However, the genomic nature of the industries that spawn genetically enhanced pollen and price-tags has created a viral infection in our nervous system and digestive tracts - they are poisoning our pollens. They have spliced, they have diced, they have sliced and they have genetic-sized the Big Stack - a burger so scrumpulous, you can taste the nicotine modifying your taste buds, the Splamato - a spliced nature of tomato and fish herring and the WaterFellon - a water mellon married to a fellon - and looks like a prison cube with it's stripes (and of course those three examples are purely my imaginative child drawing pictures).
Let Simmer and Enjoy
I am guilty of a little hypocrisy here - as much as I search and prod, I'm not a dietician to my body - sometimes I will literally eat filth - garbage - trash - refuse... well that may be an exageration, but my grocery store does not offer education on what I am eating - it's not there - i'm a blind sheep needing a shepherd at this point in my grocery store - I sure do hope my grocery store isn't blind as well - the blind leading the blind will only lead to a few knocked heads, bruised egos, and Chief Wiggum confiscating our glaucoma medicine.
One thing I am dying to do in my life is to eat Bread Fruit - a Polynesian delight of fruit and food - a staple of diet for 3000 years. To my knowledge, this fruit is being popularized across the world, unaltered, unfabricated, un-stamped from the label of GMO. I'd like to stamp GMO on everything in the world at this point, with the exception of the Bread Fruit, Sunchokes and bacon... mmm... bacon... this little piggy's gotta go off to the store... I hope I find a choice of diving head first into the pool, or feet first - the consequence of these actions could prove to be dire - I have no idea what my genes may do to me if they are radiated with mutation - I sure do hope Professor Xavier was fictitious - there's no way we can hold off that many X-Men.
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