Maximum Rotation Nirvana

The day grows long and poofy like tom's unruly afro. My shoulder hurts. I've been extreme bee chucking for six straight hours. Its difficult to maintain this extremeness, but to stop would be unextreme. And I just can't let that happen. So I press on. I chuck the bee. Sometimes I chuck it hard, sometimes I chuck it soft. I chuck it wide and I chuck it thin. I chuck it outside, I chuck it in. the bee spins like a politician at Lillith Fair. The bee is scared and fatigued, but it refuses to stop spinning. Like me, the bee understands the importance of extreming. And we don't achieve proper extreming until maximum rotation velocity is achieved. So the bee rotates. I rotate the bee. She approaches maximum rotation velocity for me. Together we approach maximum extremeness. There is no looking back. I relentlessly heave the bee and watch it rotate away from the earth. Rotate. Breathe in. Rotate. Breathe out. Rotate. Heave. Rotate. We are no longer attached to this world. We have rotated into another plane of existence. It is peaceful within the rotation. It is calm. We are one within the bee. We rotate. We breathe. We engorge the bee and it consumes us. We have achieved maximum rotation nirvana. We are so extreme we are unextreme. We are all one. Then we remember that we shouldn't eat plastic. We make ourselves throw up. It makes our throat hurt and breaks our concentration. I plummet back to the earth in a heap. Achieving nirvana is tiresome. I can extreme no more. I am tired. I must sleep.