Archive | March 2017

Xenophon, The Almighty Mayonnaise Champion

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Xenophon of Athens (not UGA Athens where crushing brewskis is the tits, but like the yogurt village back in the ancient days Athens) was a Greek philosopher, historian, cultivator of mayonnaise and tight-ass homies with Socrates. Xenophon was the son of Diodora and Gryllus, local wizards, who taught Xenophon at a young age that bread was meant to be consumed at a dry rate of 8 moisture concentrates/per taste. Most people would have severed their hope to pimp maximization of moisture into bread before it becomes too soluble, but not Xenophon, he wanted a premium amount of pimp per maximization moisture content on his bread. “The world deserves better” a constant thought Xenophon had and perhaps his parents viewpoint of him and his stupid neck beard.

One day at chess appreciation club for grown-ass adults, Xenophon was talking to his boy Socrates about how the complimentary bread was especially lacking in that desirable sweet moisture. Socrates couldn’t agree more with Xenophon, since he too was utterly in love with something so great as bread yet so disappointed. Socrates sent Xenophon out on an expedition to find such moist greatness for humanity. Xenophon prepared for his journey by making sweet love to many animals, men and women, before they all toasted and sacrificed the animals to the gods for a pleasureful substance.

Xenophon’s first week of adventuring led him to a once abandoned mine shaft that was turned into a coffee house with acoustic instruments playing. It was here where Xenophon  disguised himself as an Adonis-typed deity to see why consumers enjoyed coffee. People of the coffee house were very turned on to Xenophon and everyone in the mine shaft had one big orgy that lasted for 38 hours. Unfortunately, Xenophon gained no insight and found that coffee in fact was too soggy to lube up that bread, as well as it was too hot, many of the orgy goers suffered mouth burns and herpes.

Xenophon’s second week of traveling he came across a field of olive trees which were tended by Women of the Nine. Among the trees the Women of the Nine would harvest the olives and turn them into oil with the use of rune stones and ancient magic, which turned Xenophon on.These women would not have sex with Xenophon due to their inanimate marriages with olives, but instead were more then happy to help his cause. Xenophon dipped bread, pork loins, and his genitalia into the Olive oil of the Nine. His findings were tremendous, but the oil wasn’t enough, yet it served as a precursor.

Upon his entering into the Meadows of Stormville, an imp was summoned by the goddess Aphrodite to shine Xenophon’s sandals and sell him highly discounted belt buckles designed by Zeus. Xenophon threw remnants of Olive Oil of the Nine into the imp’s beady eyes, the imp fell to the floor coughing up mixtures of La Croix and ham. Retreating and begging for mercy, the imp placed a scroll upon Xenophon standing tall in his sandals which for damn sure don’t need to be shined. The imp informed Xenophon this scroll was a powerful source to bind a soul in order to make their will their way. Xenophon brushed his hand across the imp’s face and retracted his previous gestures, the two exchanged Lyre notes to play at certain pitch frequencies to know when to hang out and chill, maybe watch some arena fights or knife races.

Through the Stormville meadows Xenophon adventured across the endless green grass, peering to Balthazar mountain as trees climbed over the sky in his peripherals. Emerging from the grasses, a tall wooden sign appeared: “elohssa Inn & Farm” pointing in direction with Mt. Balthazar. Xenophon continued his tread until he reached what was a massive farm opened to chickens, cows, sheeps, and dogs all running around in harmony mating and drinking from the Hyrda river. Xenophon approached the Inn, which had no customers but an Innkeeper who was polishing steins for mead. The innkeeper greeted Xenophon and sat him down for food and beverage, which a happy Xenophon agreed. The Innkeeper let Xenophon know that today’s special was French toast and mead, which Xenophon scolded at due to endless attempts with dry-ass toast. When the plate was shuffled upon Xenophon’s table to eat, a tear came out of his eye and unto the french toast. The Innkeeper relentlessly admitted to Xenophon his bread was the moistiest and perfection of pimp maximization due to his use of eggs being coated in the bread. Xenophon however was interested in only a nice spread, so asked if the Innkeeper may mix the eggs with the oil of the nine to lube up that bread for a healthy intake. Alas, Xenophon shit his pants, he couldn’t believe it, he finally found the cure to dry-ass toast. With the Innkeeper a witness to what just happened, Xenophon unsealed the scroll bequeathed to him and used it on the Innkeeper. Horror admitted from the scroll as shadows of demons surrounded the Innkeeper who saw too much, the demons whispered and chanted in sacred Elven and within seconds the Innkeeper was succumbed to type-2 offset jaundice.

With the Innkeeper out of the picture due to Jaundice, Xenophon set afoot outside the inn to claim his new land. Pouring the remaining vial of Olive Oil of the Nine into the Hydra River, it was soon consumed entirely by it, becoming a river of endless Olive Oil (AKA aisle 7 at Kroger when that Dutch kid spilled the whole damn shelf over and I had to clean the mess up). Xenophon conjured a whistle that allowed the cattle and sheep to line up in formation for execution. One by one Xenophon would slaughter the animal amidst of its fellow animal friends. The remaining dogs, who were granted nice-ass chef hats, would drag the remnants of cow and sheep into the the stove to cook with their little cute puppy dog paws. Meanwhile, Xenophon built forts of protection for the chickens while they lay eggs and/or play Yahtzee.

Once the new settlement was complete Xenophon renamed the settlement Xenophon’s Valley. A few weeks later Xenophon had opened shop and began selling his famous “Xenophon Cream”, and instant hit with everyone wanting Xenophon’s original and pimped out cream. Centuries and centuries passed until some Loser Duke stole Xenophon’s recipe and remained it to what we call Mayonnaise today. Some say when you consume enough mayonnaise you can hear the faint sounds of Xenophon whispering in yo ear, trying to seduce you.