Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The playback and fast forward of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And, by remote click, end it. To click, to play—
No More—and by “play” to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand ridiculous schlocks
TV shows aired, too—‘tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To play, To exercise—
To exercise—or eat icecream. Ay, there’s the rub,
For in that exercise of death, six pack abs may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal workouts,
Must take a pause. There’s the commercials
That makes us insane in those stupid ads.
For who would bear the chips and popcorns of time,
Th’ Viagra commercial, Tide fabric softener,
Stupid Pro active promos, Girlish songs by Justin Bieber,
When he himself might peace and quiet make
With a simple “off” button? Who would farters bear,
Who Grunt and sweat under an exhausting life,
But that the dread of something in "real life",
The discovered country from whose bourn
Travelers pay taxes, puzzles the money
And makes us rather bear the money we have
Then work for Mcdonald’s and fly to others that we know not of?
Thus cheeseburgers makes cowards of us all,
And thus thousand lines of French fries is the solution.
With this regard comfy sofas make us stay
And sit till our asses are