Dear Frankenberry, Count Chocula, et al.
Dear Frankenberry, Count Chocula, et al.,
I am upset.
Firstly, is Boo Berry a chick? I have always thought so because of Boo Berry’s relatively androgynous look and predominately feminine features in spite of the red bow tie and yellow porkpie hat. I had thought that perhaps Boo Berry was therefore a liberal arts studies lesbian, but it was recently brought to my attention that Boo is actually just an effeminate male character, which is upsetting for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that I have masturbated to images of Boo Berry on many occasions during my predawn breakfast insulin rush. And so if Boo Berry is in fact a male cereal character, I yet insist that this does not make me gay, as I was imagining Boo Berry with tits.
Furthermore, if Boo Berry truly is an effeminate male trying to push a homosexual agenda on my two youngest children, then let this be the first salvo in what I will turn into a nationwide boycott of your cereal in response to your apparent willingness to attack traditional family values and seduce this cereal enthusiast with suggestive masturbatory breakfast imagery.
I would also like to insist that you discontinue seasonal production of Fruit Brute cereal, which is clearly a homosexual product. I know this because my next door neighbor ate Fruit Brute every day when we were growing up, and he is now a flamboyant member of a touring dance troupe, and I believe this never would have happened without the influence of your homosexualized breakfast cereal. And let’s not even get started on Fruity Yummy Mummy, which really ought to come with a set of anal beads and a free subscription to Men’s Health magazine in every box. I swear that that isn’t even milk in the picture on the Fruity Yummy Mummy box.
In sum, this constitutes my cease and desist letter, which if ignored will result in me going straight to Bill O’Reilly with my insights. Rest assured that you do not want to incite this fight and become another casualty of the culture war, which seeks to rid our society of precisely the sort of socialist homosexual propaganda that you, General Mills, and the rest of you God-hating liberal fags seek to perpetuate upon our innocent and unsuspecting youth.
Remember the lesson of Tinky Winky, the fetishistic purse-clutching purple Teletubby who last dared to try to convert our nation’s youth to a life of interior design and a diet of Bravo TV. And for the record, I ejaculated to Tinky’s picture only once, and that was only after having consumed three-quarters of a bottle of Boone’s Farm orange hurricane and an entire 12-piece bucket of KFC extra crispy, so that hardly counts as a strike against my sound heterosexuality.