While you sit in front of your computer drinking your Zima and eating your Torangos and spoonful after spoonful of Mayonnaise, a child in Somalia is starving. Right now, in downstate New York, a man is being sodomized in prison. Right now, in Pakistan, a family is living in Pakistan.

It’s a dark world out there. A dark world filled with violence and hatred and oppression and war and... violence. And as I sit here typing this article, I am ashamed. Ashamed of not using my celebrity status to help change that world. Ashamed, knowing that my voicing of my opinion could have been the one opinion voiced that would have actually made a difference. Ashamed that I know of abuse and never spoke up. I don't know why I held my silence for so long. Fortunately, I stumbled onto a site that helped me recognize my shortcomings, that showed me the mountain I must climb, showed me what I can do to elevate mankind.

I quickly left that page, and found myself on The Goldfish Sanctuary, a site dedicated to ending the mistreatment and abuse of goldfish across the globe.

With 12 chapters worldwide, this lone, insane, homosexual man who is lying about the fact that there are 12 chapters worldwide, spends the majority of his assumedly unemployed life rallying to protect this not-even-close-to-being-remotely-endangered species.

"How many people leap at the chance to care for one of these remarkable creatures, later to decide that they have not even the time to feed it?"

Listen, brotha, I understand that you're trying to make a point here, but there are a couple of things wrong with this statement. 1.) No one has ever "leapt at the chance" to buy a goldfish... because they're goldfish. Most of us get them for free at the carnival for winning a game of ring toss. 2.) Everyone on the planet has "time" to feed a goldfish. Everyone. I don't care how busy you are, there is no possible way a person is so busy that they can't grab the fishfood as they walk by the tank and shake some into the water. It takes three seconds, and you don't even have to look while you do it. No, people don't neglect their goldfish because of time constraints. They neglect them because they forget they're even there. They're goldfish. They. Are. Fucking. Goldfish. People neglect them for the same reason they neglect the weeds growing in their driveway cracks.

"The Goldfish Sanctuary is opposed to this kind of maltreatment. A goldfish is inexpensive, yes, but its life is not a worthless one."

Oops, I think I found a slight mistake on your website. You must have meant to put that statement on the dog page. You see, on this page, you're talking about goldfish. As in, the animals that, if allowed, will eat until they literally burst open like aquatic pinatas? These animals that are only allowed a place in the ecosystem because they're gold and we humans like shiny things?

Don't worry about it, though... as a web-writer myself, I know how easy it is to mix up your pages when dealing with a large site with multiple sections. I believe what you meant to say was, "The Goldfish Sanctuary heartily supports and giggles at this kind of maltreatment. A goldfish is an inexpensive, worthless life-form meant for you to abuse and take out your anger upon, and we only wish that they were able to produce screams audible to our human ears."

"It is the goal of this Sanctuary to provide a safe, ideal home for goldfish whose owners either mistreat them or are unable to care for them."

Heh... that reminds me of a kickass story from when I was in high school. I was at this party with my friend, James "goldfish abuser" Wimberly, and we had all been drinking for about six hours. In a drunken haze, James started giggling and told me to go get the video camera because he had some "new tricks to try out." Quickly, he glanced over the selection and pulled one of the sixty goldfish out of our one-foot cubic tank. Walking into the bathroom with his beer, he held the flopping creature up and motioned for me to start the camera. He placed the fish on his tongue and downed his beer, ingesting the fish like an aspirin.

The crowd cheered in delight as he bent over the toilet and placed his finger down his throat, spraying the fish into the bowl through a stream of projectile beer-vomit. It flopped and twitched as he pulled it out of the toilet and unbuttoned his pants. Hiking back his legs, he slowly worked the fish into his rectum until just the tail protruded. "Quick," he exclaimed, "someone hand me a lighter!"

No sooner than the lighter hit his hand, he fell to the floor, back-first, and pulled his legs over his shoulders, holding the flame to his ass. A near-silent cork-like "pop" sound was followed by a six inch flame as the goldfish shot from his crack and sailed, flaming into the vomit-coated commode. Afterwards, we all took turns pissing on the dying corpse before finally flushing it while it was still half-alive. That kicked ass. We went back to the bowl, and repeated this process fifty-nine more times.

"If your fish spawned and you don't have space for the babies, we want to help."

That one's easy. Give them to James Wimberly. He'll fart them through the gates of goldfish heaven.

"We also do what we can to oppose the sale of fish by inhumane dealers and petstores."

This confuses me. I thought you were trying to improve the quality of life for goldfish. However, in that sentence, you make it quite clear that you would rather the goldfish live with the inhumane pet store dealer than for him to sell it to a family who could provide it with a better home. My eyes are beginning to open, my friend, and I'm starting to see what this is all about. You're a goldfish hater.

Sure, you hide behind your convincing little "let's save the goldfish" mask, but I see you for what you truly are. You get off on it don't you? You get your kicks from seeing them suffer. Admit it, goldfish hater. Oh, you put up a good game, but in the end it all comes down to the fact that you sit behind your "desk of hypocrisy" and have your "secretary of pain" take "dictation of goldfish hating." The website is a good camouflage, but I see through your lies. You hand out beatdowns to goldfish when the "12 chapters" aren't looking, don't you? You make me sick.

"The Goldfish Sanctuary provides a safe, healthy environment for its occupants. The Sanctuary is maintained by people who both know and care about goldfish and their needs.

If there is not space for your fish in the chapter nearest you, or if there is no chapter in your area, please contact our headquarters and we shall place your fish on our page's adoption list.

You may also send us a photo of your fish."

As you all know, my site is here simply to help other sites learn to communicate their points in a more efficient, concise manner. So many webmasters have good intentions when writing an article, but when they actually start to type, something gets lost in the translation from brain to fingers. Allow me to demonstrate my point by correcting the above quote to completely portray the webmaster's thoughts:

"The Goldfish Sanctuary provides a safe, healthy environment for its occupants, myself and my imaginary friends, Thomas Butterthong, Thor Fudgemissle, and Gay Enrique. The Sanctuary is maintained by clinically insane assaholics who both know and care about goldfish and their sexual needs.

If there is not space for your fish in the chapter nearest you which includes twelve facilities located strategically across every region of my vivid imagination, or if there is no chapter in your area should you choose to live in the actual world rather than inside my meth-corroded mind, please contact our headquarters and we shall place your fish on our page's adoption list. I have sex with men.

You may also send us a photo of your fish. Which looks exactly like every other goldfish in existence. We will promptly set the picture on fire and piss on the ashes, making fun of you in a heroin-induced fit of laughter."

"But John," you might say, "I don't feel that this site is making me quite gay enough in my everyday life, and I need some motivation to achieve my goal of becoming as flaming as the bowels of Hell itself, as my parents had always hoped."

Don't worry. The membership page is just what you're looking for. I could write a volume of epic novels making fun of this one page, but I'm sure that as you look it over, you'll agree that the English language just doesn't contain enough words to accurately and completely describe what lurks inside the mind of that madman.

You can thank me later.

"Who hears the fish when they cry?" --The Goldfish Sanctuary quoting Henry David Thoreau

"It's ok to eat fish 'cause they don't have any feelings..." --Kurt Cobain