HERE IS A STORY OF SOME PASTA THAT WAS LOST ONCE.

Back before everything was so damn shitty, there was once a pasta that was good, so decadent, so rich and creamy, that upon consumption of said Pasta the eater would begin to feel...well, odd to say the least.

I had only heard of this Pasta through hearsay, and I only heard of it because of my immersion in what you...simple minded folk regard as 'the occult.' Twice did I summon concubines: I can't explain the process of how I did it or why or provide any proof that I'm not some dank, putrid smelling 40 year old autistic man child but I did get a mugshot once for violating parole and chuck-e cheese but whatever that's besides the point and you don't get my Christmas card so you wouldn't see it anyway. Fuck you.

Anyway, I after my 23 concubine and I had hot oral sex and pleasures beyond description (spolier warning: she drew the last episode of Lost in comic book form across my stomach flab in permanent marker) I went onto Newgrounds to brag about my latest perverted exploits, and upon launching my browser I noticed the dried semen on my keyboard, and upon staring upon it I noticed semen dried only upon the following keys:
w, the period key, p,a,s,t,a.

I saw this for what it was: a sign from my inner spirit, a kind of godly divination to instruct me. I waited upon further instruction by hotboxing my room and lighting 40 pounds of the shittiest weed in my 4 year old sister's Hello Kitty Trashcan. The upstairs toilet had broken 4 years before, so we used a 50 gallon aquarium tank as a holding for our excrement. My father used to make sculptures with our shit. I dumped the shit out on the lawn and burnt the rest of the weed in that.

I set my laptop up upon a steel table in the center of the room and jumped upon it, and waited.
Through the hallucinations of downsyndrome prostitutes, a vision came to me, clear. It was of this pasta. And this pasta told me things. Things I never want to hear again, things that keep me up to this very day. Things that make me want to kill myself. So I will. Goodbye Newgrounds. This is my suicide note.

I pray you never follow my path. Keep one eye open for that godforsaken pasta.