Ever wondered why the sofa never lets you leave? It's because deep down, it knows every episode of every show you binge. And they know you. They understand your existential dread—but not before commercial breaks.
Remember when the chips were a metaphor for life? The crispy crunch, like the fleeting moments of happiness, always followed by the long, salty realization that nothing ever changes? Much like the plot of your favorite series.
Ask not what your potato can do for you, but what you can do with your potato. Is it mashed dreams or baked ambitions? Perhaps fried thoughts, sizzling on the surface while raw underneath.
Who needs enlightenment when recliners have perfected rest? The only path is the one led by the remote, guiding the way through the labyrinth of channels, each loop a rerun of previous wisdoms—or lack thereof.
Dive deeper into this infinite loop:
The Mystery Potato
Theories of Oil