The Times They Are A-Changin’

       Sorry for the long break between posts, but I have been extremely busy lately.  I am in the process of transitioning to a new job.  As you may remember, my old job at Colonel Al’s Old Time Cloth Diaper Emporium™ was not a great fit for me, as I had dreams and aspirations of a greater and more meaningful existence.  Well, the Chinese pop music trend did not make nearly as much of a splash as I had originally hoped, and after months of trying to break into the music biz, I was forced to sell all of my young Chinese singers into sexual slavery to recoup my losses.  I still hear from them by mail every now and then.  They like to fill me in on how their lives are going.  The letters are sparse, though.  There’s only so much time for letter writing between all of the gangbangs.

       After the failure of my foray into the world of pop music, I decided for a while to renew my commitment to the diaper industry.  I managed some one on one time with Colonel Alfred P. Moneybags, and I was able to talk my way into a new job at the Department of Research and Development.  There I undertook one of the riskiest but potentially most rewarding projects of my life.  I decided to completely change the way people looked at diapers. 

       Think about it: what do you think of when you see a diaper?  It’s basically just a white blob made for holding feces and urine, right?  How boring is that?  All function, no form.  Well, I aimed to change all of that with my eye for fashion.  I was going to make diapers the trendiest, most visually stunning items a person could own.  That’s right, I thought, diapers aren’t just for babies and senior citizens anymore!  Now everyone is going to be wearing diapers!  Bathrooms will become a thing of the past.  You’ll shit yourself, and you’ll look great doing it!

       I immersed myself in this new venture, practically taking over the whole R & D lab for my own vision, and my project dominated the company’s research budget.  Colonel Al had given me carte blanche over the whole project while allowing me to keep it secret from all but a few of my most trusted underlings.  Day and night we toiled, hoping to create a signature look for our new line, one that would capture the hearts, minds, and asses of the fashion world.  After a few months of back-breaking labor in the labs, I had finally constructed the perfect item, and it was ready to be revealed to the world.

       Colonel Al spared no expense for our product reveal to the public.  He booked several stages in cities around the world during Fashion Week, and our first big show was in Milan, Italy.  We hired the top models, makeup artists, and hair people from around the globe, and the stage was set for this world-changing event.  I could barely contain my excitement as I helped the models preapre for their first trip down the catwalk in my new creation.  Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would be witnessing Kate Moss, Gisele Bundchen, and Naomi Campbell modeling something of my design, but here they all were, and the show was set to begin.

       What followed could only best be described as a disaster of epic proportions.  I had instructed all of the models to binge on food and drink lots of water before the event so that they could properly demonstrate the full functionality of my design.  I had fed them coffee and cigarettes all morning, but since this is pretty much a model’s normal diet anyway, I made sure to spike their coffee with as much liquid laxative as possible.  I didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

       As the music began thumping, that was the cue for the models to take to the catwalk.  I watched from behind the scenes in nervous anticipation as one by one the models made their way down the runway modeling my signature creation:  Colonel Al’s T-Back Thong Diapers.

       An air of silence prevailed in the whole room, and the audience looked on in stunned amazement.  At the end of the runway, I had instructed each model to let loose their natural body functions, and the diapers held up just fine.  The audience screeched in horror as they watched the tiny diapers bulge from the rear as the models filled them with their leavings.  Screams filled the air, and those in the audience who were not fleeing the venue were invariably vomiting in their tiny black handbags. 

       Apparently the fashion world and the general public were not ready for such an innovative design.  Fashion critics the world over lambasted my designs, calling them “disgusting”, “tragic”, and “retarded”.  Colonel Al saw his stock prices plummet, and when all was said and done, the company hemorrhaged approximately thirteen billion dollars in revenue.  I became a pariah in not only the fashion industry, but in the diaper industry as well.  Uncle Al handed me my walking papers and an unceremonious kick in the ass as I was booted out the front door of the Diaper Emporium Corporate Shitquarters®.  When all was said and done, I couldn’t even find work with lesser diaper companies like Luvs or Huggies.

       Thus, I have been forced to seek out a new line of work.  I have created my own company, and I am currently developing yet another revolutionary product, one that will, God willing, revolutionize the farming market for decades to come.  What’s this amazing new product, you ask?  Well, I will tell you, but I ask that you keep it under your hat, for corporate espionage is alive and well, and I wouldn’t want someone to steal my idea.  The tentative title of my new product is PeckerPuckers™, a tampon for chickens.  We’re still in the beginning stages, but everything is looking good so far.  I have my scientists working around the clock to answer some unknowns for me, such as if chickens even have periods to begin with.  They have to with all of those eggs, right?