Boglet Of Ord

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Could this be the Boglet Of Ord?

What in the fuck is the Boglet Of Ord? Is it a mystical tome dedicated to the preservation of information about a precarious ancient civilization, extinct since time immemorial? Is it an ice chest, crafted from the finest diamonds and sapphires, used to chill the immaculate beer and soft drinks of the Gods? Is it an enormous frisbee, that is really just five circular saws glued together, used by schizophrenic lumberjacks to chop down exotic trees? Is it a bottle filled with galactic egg nog, blessed by Anubis and Sun Ra themselves, and seasoned with the sweat of Zeus's very ballsack?

Only a journey to the center of the earth will tell us for sure.

Where in the fuck is the Boglet Of Ord?[edit | edit source]

Is it lost within the tunnels of the great Athenian Volcano? Is it trapped between my toes, amongst the jam, lint, and hair? Is it beyond the valleys of the forgotten, guarded by the Seven Guards Of Fire, buried within the Tomb of the Almighty, surrounded by the River Of Thieves, never to be viewed by the eyes of man? Is it within a sacred chest, whose combination can only be opened by combining the battery acid from the inside of a remote control with the purest air in all the world, using Anderson Cooper's manly spleen as a catalyst for combination?

Only a liberal testicle-waxing will tell the tale.

Who in the fuck named the Boglet Of Ord?[edit | edit source]

Did she name the Boglet Of Ord? Maybe.

Was it perpetual genius Albert Einstein? Was it expert of all things tall, Manute Bol? Was it master of all things, period, Frank Zappa? Was it, perhaps, the Yeti, ruler of ice and snow? Was it Anderson Cooper, in all his mighty wisdom? Was it Les Paul, the inventor of cubed ice? Was it Biscuit-headed Joe, the inventor of crushed ice? It could have been Keith Relf, lead singer of The Yardbirds. It could have been me, under the influence of rohypnol.

Only a human sacrifice will yield any information on the subject.

What in the fuck is the Boglet Of Ord's favorite food?[edit | edit source]

Is it scallops with cauliflower, dried cherries, and capers? Is it soft scrambled eggs with fresh ricotta and chives? Is it stir-fried sesame beef? Or perhaps it's fava beans with a nice chianti. Maybe even pan-seared salmon on baby arugula. Is it human meat, or perhaps human vegetables? Can the Boglet of Ord even eat at all? If it couldn't, would it still have a favorite food anyways?

Only a swift belt-flogging will arouse the truth.

Why in the fuck is the Boglet Of Ord wearing high heels?[edit | edit source]

Is it going to a fancy dinner party hosted by James Spader and the guy who always conveniently has anything needed stored in his ridiculously large 80s parachute pants? Is the Boglet Of Ord a late entry into RuPaul's Drag Race? Is it simply a frustrated transexual who has deep emotional problems relating to its parents' lifelong rejection of his unorthodox lifestyle? Hell, maybe the Boglet Of Ord just likes wearing high heels, and you should shut the fuck up and stop judging it.

Whatever the case, only an extensive Indian rain dance will expose the answer.

What have we learned about the Boglet Of Ord from all of this questioning?[edit | edit source]

Absolutely nothing. We have also learned that the scientific method doesn't work. We have also learned that you should never ask questions about anything, because you'll never learn anything. Now fuck off.