Randomness of the moment:

I had an interesting morning; I got into an argument with my Rice Krispies. I distinctly heard, "Snap, crackle, fuck you!" I'm not sure which one of them said it; I was reaching of the artificial sweetener at the time and not looking directly into the bowl. But I heard it and I said, "Well, you can all just sit right there in the milk as far as I'm concerned until I find out which one of you said it." Mass punishment. the idea is to turn them against one another.

Silly me. Big punishment! That's what Rice Krispies do. Sit in the milk. That's their job. You've seen them. Delicate, beige blisters of air, floating proudly in the milk. And you can't sink them. They refuse to sink. They navy ought to use Rice Krispies in life preservers. That's where they're really
needed.

And do you know how Rice Krispies manage to float for such a long time? By clinging to one another; they buddy up. They gather in little groups of eight, then, or sometimes twelve, but if you've noticed, it's always an even number. That's because the electromagnetic polarity of the Krispies attracts them to one
another. It binds them into pairs, like subatomic particles. They form little colonies, and you can't sink them, not even with a spoon. They must come bobbing over the sides of the spoon, laughing at you and reveling in their buoyancy. Hard to sink.

That's what the fruit is for. Not for added taste; not for nutrition; it's for sinking the Rice Krispies. believe me, a good-sized peach, hurled at the bowl full force from a stepladder, can take down eighty or ninety of the little
buggers in one glorious splash.

And I have absolutely no mercy. If I'm really pissed, I'll climb up to the upstairs balcony and drop a watermelon on them. That'll teach them to sass me at
breakfast.

--George Carlin, Napalm and Silly Putty