Clutching a slab of spam, one in each fist, and two between each toe, of both feet, Alex Jones began to elaborate his vision of “spam for the sake of spam”, or, “make america great again when the only thing great in the universe is spam.”
There was no sound coming from Alex’s mouth. Instead, there was a rumbling from his protruding, pregger belly and beech teets, and then a blaring fart, a smash hit spam fart.
We could definitively say Oscar also farted.
It therefore follows Oscar’s vision of the good life is equivalent to Alex’s.
It is all good.
Plus, there is no alternative.
Question then becomes, when does Alex go to Reading Gaol?
Alex could eat some spam, then some kale, get a juicer and juice carrots and arugula and ale,
Mount afterwards a Stairmaster tread “Don’t Tread On Me”, mill, treadmill,
Tread and mill his spam-flab, in flabby aftermath,
“I’m a winner! I lost five pounds!”
I didn’t know Alex Jones came from Dogpatch. Did you?
Spam of Human Affection 
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