The Polleneater 4/10/10

My six-miler this morning was not run for selfish reasons. Oh, no, my fellow blogospherians. I pounded the prairie pavement this fine, fertile morning, in order to save you from all the pollen in the air.

You see, I have a unique ability, only manifest in Spring, to draw the poison pollen to me, and to hold it with my nasal tissue, tear ducts, and cake hole, until it can be washed harmlessly down the bathtub drain, into the Mississippi River watershed, and out into the Gulf of Mexico, where it will eventually contribute to the genetic mutation of brine shrimp and clams into fifty-foot, bipedal behemoths that will wreak their vengeance on coastal towns and cities. (I'll figure out later how to fix that little problem.)

I can see the spores floating through the atmosphere, much the way Neo could read the Matrix. I, like he, can move effortlessly through my environment, taking advantage of my superior understanding of it, to take its most toxic asset upon myself, all for the betterment of the human race.

I sneeze for you. I cough for you. My eyes burn so that yours won't. My phlegm is the phlegm of freedom. You may thank me only by enjoying an existence untouched by the dreaded yellow dust.

Thank you for reading.