There was a bowl of fortune cookies at the end of the chow line, so I scooped a few, refilled my glass with Diet Dew, and went back to my book. But before I dove back into another story about growing up on a dairy farm and watching the artificial inseminator guy from American Breeders Society perform his craft like a "combination science exhibit and freak show on wheels", I thought I'd pop open my fortunes.
Because, see, if I were to start eating cookies and then read another line about how the cows looked as they're being inseminated (apparently they would pause in their cud-chewing, "kinda freezing in a 'hunh?' sorta pose, their eyes would bulge a tad, about like yours would at the point of realizing your taxes were due yesterday...") undoubtedly I'd laugh so hard cookie bits would come out my nose. Unpleasant thought, that.
So.. cookie number one, let's have it. Give it up.
Your nature is intense, magnetic and passionate.
Woah. Myers-Briggs, look out. Cookie here is pretty good!
Number two, step up. What you got?
You tend to be contemplative and analytical by nature.
Yo! What up, cookies? How you be findin' me like this, bro?
Dare I ask you now, cookie three? What? What?
It's okay to slow down and smell the roses.
Aww... now that's timely. Especially since pretty much all I'm doing these days is slowing... and smelling...
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