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Son, It’s Time We Talk About the Birds and the Bees but Not Too Loudly Because They’re Government Surveillance Drones

Hey bud. Can we talk a minute? I think you’re old enough where we can talk man to man about something everyone at your age should know about. Let’s keep our voices down though because I need to talk to you about the birds and the bees. Particularly about how they’re actually government surveillance drones. Also, close those shades.

Now I’m sure they’ve already told you about this in school, but it’s important you hear this from your father. They haven’t?! Looks like just another case of tax dollars not going to education, but instead to the shadow government that controls this country. This is exactly why I’ve been telling your mother you should’ve been home-schooled. Oh, and keep your voice down so she doesn’t hear this either. She’s been in a real “mood” lately.

I’ll break it down for you as simply as I can: when a man and woman love each other very much, the man removes all pollinating plants and trees from his property to prevent government spy drones disguised as insects and migratory birds from monitoring his personal political views. I don’t think that’s too difficult to wrap your mind around. By your age, you should be mature enough to handle learning how the world works.

I do realize this is a lot to take in. I too once thought the world’s flora and fauna were that of the natural world. But the truth is all of America’s birds were slowly swapped out with robot lookalikes who surveil our every move, while the bees plant tracking devices in our yard. I know it sounds like a stretch but it’s laid out clearly in that pamphlet that was left on our car at Kroger.

Listen, do you hear that? It’s chirping! They’re right outside pinging our location. That golden finch came straight out of an NSA black site. And to think your mother was complaining when I spent all that money on pigeon spikes for the house instead of fixing the plumbing.

Alright, new plan kiddo. From here on out we communicate with hand signals. I don’t think they’ve mastered ASL yet. Let’s head down to the basement and after we kill all the Obama-controlled ants down there, we can continue this discussion. I love you, son.