And on the twenth-sixth day of the eight month, a child was born. Thus fulfilling the prophecy of the Homernut book. Satanic Republican Monkey Worshipers everywhere rejoiced at the coming of the child. As quoted in the scripture:
"Bear in mind that August 26 is the anniversary of the day I became Hyperion, a most holy and sacred day."
Today this child, this forebearer of neocon Simpson's-loving obsession, is known as:
On this sacred day, people across the globe are not called upon to spend time with our families or dole out extra money on Hallmark cards or go sit in a cold dank place with other folks. Oh no. The Hyperion has plans for us. They are called the Five Hyperboles.
Aitch Hyperbole 1: Today you must put comments on My day's entry. If you don't, you are a scum sucking tadpole.
Aitch Hyperbole 2: Thou shall advertise the supremely cool group projects on your own blog. An ad in the super bowl would barely suffice if you don't have your own blog.
Aitch Hyperbole 3: Touch the River Midget! Love the River Midget!
Aitch Hyperbole 4: Appreciate all that He does for you, little people. The only acceptable forms of appreciation are beef jerky, cold hard cash and Simpson's DVD's.
Aitch Hyperbole 5: If you have seen Hyperion's face, it is the last thing you will see. His identity must be a secret, for if Ann Coulter knew where to find the Hyperion...well, let's just say there'd be trouble.
And if you don't do as he says, then he will send harsh emails to you.
But please remember! Underneath all this harshness, all this crass Denny's waitress harassing exterior is a teddy bear just waiting for a big hug.