Tap Water T

They didn’t even need to conquer us. No tanks. No aliens. No laser sharks. They just said “hey buddy, open wide” and dumped fluoride straight into the communal brain soup. Suddenly everyone’s like “wow taxes are so complicated” and “I love standing in line” and “what’s wrong with microwaving plastic,” meanwhile my third eye is screaming like a smoke alarm with no battery.

You ever notice how the water tastes confident? That’s not minerals, that’s obedience. That’s the sound of your IQ gently being set to airplane mode. One sip and your brain goes from chess grandmaster to “yeah sure I’ll click accept without reading.” Coincidence? Absolutely not, Gary.

They call it “for your teeth” — oh yeah? Then why do I forget why I walked into a room every single time I drink it? Explain THAT, Dr. Toothpaste. Explain why the water that’s supposedly protecting my molars also makes me think email newsletters are a good idea.

Meanwhile the elites are drinking glacier tears filtered through Himalayan quartz while we’re over here bathing our neurons in government mouthwash. You think it’s normal that the smartest guy you know switched to oat milk AND forgot how to change a tire? Wake up.

And the craziest part? People DEFEND it. “Trust the science,” they say, while their inner monologue is buffering at 240p. Bro, I trusted the science and now I can’t remember my childhood phone number OR why Netflix keeps asking if I’m still watching. Yes I’m still watching. I’ve been watching since 2009. I cannot escape.

Anyway, I only drink rainwater collected during a full moon now. My IQ is back, my vibes are elite, and the pigeons have started nodding at me again. Coincidence? You tell me.