king for a day, fool for…

babythe modern child’s birthday party is a crowning turd in the american parent’s crown. the highest holiday of the satanist, with great gusto, split tongues, pointy horns and forked tails do the unrepentant masses fall in worship before their progeny in a celebration of the diabolic and the parental brinkmanship of outspending the peers of your offspring’s parents. a carefully constructed artifice of individuality consisting of ready to eat experiences of conspicuous consumption, for just one day our little piggy can think he is more equal than others and imbibe the brew of an artificial geocentric sense of importance that has replaced the rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

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