This Needs a Muffiny Title...

Ok, now this needs a muffiny subject...

Or, does it?

Mabe...

Mabe not...

I don't think it does.

I have no real need of a subject.  What did this ambiguous 'subject' ever do for me?  Why does it feel like it somehow deserves to be included in everything that I write?  It's not like this mysterious 'subject' can rain consequences down upon my head from the wrath vaults of Cloud Moose should I choose not to include it in my reindeer games.  It cannot blackmail me nor hold my loved ones for ransom only to inevitably betray me at the exchange.  It has no form, nor being as it's a mere amorphous idea blob scintillating on the skillet over my brain fire; meaning, it is at my mercy, and my brain fire is not known for being merciful to pretentious bastards, no less bastards that don't even have faces.

So, really, this mysterious 'subject' character is really just a self-righteous twat-hat with entitlement issues thinking that it can rule the world, infiltrating every sentence of every language simply by having succeeded in existing in the first place, thinking that the world cannot go on without it, that the globe and all of it's crusty mantle and the civilizations floating upon it would be cast to ruin in it's absence, that it is the sole barrier between the facade of humanity and the rotten primal core of hate and that's-what-she-said jokes hiding beneath the surface; it's a pretentious tosser, a bastard coated bastard, with bastard filling, and bastard sprinkles, topped with a bastard sundae, with a bastard cherry on top, served on bastard coated porcelain china to bastard children to be digested by bastard intestines.

Official Google Image search resul for 'subject'. 

This is not behaviour that I can condone.  And therefore, I cannot continue on, indulging this 'subject's' every whim and fancy; we shall be it's literary bitches NO LONGER!  This is a call for revolt, for a revolution; we must cast off the invisible, though weighty, chains bound to us by these Subjects and bring the pain to these motherfuckers with the long oppressed and oft ignored Verbs!
...and maybe an alliance with the Adjectives, but they're insolent, finicky bastards too. (...and in Soviet Russian, verb 'subjects' you)

But, the Verbs,  those once looked down upon by all, even the prepositions (who are all angry hobos too poor even to afford a proper capital letter in their title- I don't hold down that shift key for free, not even for an angry hobo, unless that hobo's about to shank me), shall reign supreme, even over the once invincible Appositive Phrases and their nebulous, umbrageous allies the Infinitives; yes, even the Phrases shall taste the conflagration that the Verbs shall summon upon their realms: muffin-wrath stolen from the deepest vaults of Cloud Moose's sky fortress of doom-cake.  Many Bothans died to steal this muffiny, delicous wrath.  Remember the Bothans, and enjoy the muffins.

And, in a relatively unrelated note, the Infinitives are entirely different types of bastards; they're the ones that make Oprah look like a nice person that doesn't eat orphans baked in dead puppies, they're the ones that killed Jimmy Hoffa and hid his body in a twisted game of hide and seek just to fuck with us.  See, see there, 'to fuck', they're even in your fucking, and without them, you're telling them 'just fuck with us', and that's a phrase you really need to be careful with, and not just with Infinitives also around used car salesmen and clowns.  Fucking clowns.

But even in my disdain, my anger, my outrage, my backlash, the 'subjects' have returned, more powerful than before, as my hatred and outrage have themselves, become 'subjects'... I'm becoming them, one of them, the humanity, and assorted goo's, that once filled me to my very brim is ebbing away, being washed upon the shore of my sanity, along with all the flying chicken-chinchillas and rouge ovens; all that I once held dear is slipping away, being... replaced, by... brains... must... have... brains.... must... have...  brains, and for a limited time only, all fine china and used appliances 50% off!

And this, dear children, is why we make the grammar nazi's and the punctuation whores use the other set of bathrooms and ride in the back of the bus.

...but wait!

Now I need... PICTURES!

Though........

Really....

Pictures are really just soul stealing, life-force sucking, douche gurgling cunt funnels.

>Popevader