The Process of Quantum Entanglement by Gabriella Garofalo

One thing should be made abundantly clear…the refusal to consume tuna by those here at the Old Swiss Bakery & Blue Sky Semi-Secret Accredited Shower Cap Desensitization through Chronic Bombardment Center has little to do with the plight of the tuna and much to do with our intrinsic ability to outsource these irrelevant activities to less encumbered nations and their respective encumbered peoples.

In fact, prior to this statement, speculation was focused on the theory of quantum entanglement…now the focus has shifted to fidgety behavior at yesterday’s funeral services for the package delivery man even though we managed to keep our hands to ourselves.

Everyone except Randy.

Listen…we’ve been working on his hang ups for years….way before working on hang ups was fashionable…and to be honest, we’re just not seeing the results we had hoped for. Not that Randy isn’t a stand up guy…he is…moderately so…and it’s not entirely his fault that he’s been consumed by the sort of trivial quirks you and I might take for granted. We’ve seen the CAT scan. At the molecular level he’s really no better off than a barbeque potato chip. But you know what? That’s ok. He is who he and we are who we are and Tom Petty somehow manages to make who he is work for him…none of which should equate to judgment of competency to stand trial by the casual observer.

Needless to say, it should be further attested to that despite the popularity of the Old Swiss Bakery and Trimmed Facial Hair Ethics Committee & Moral Thesaurus Brigade has had with the NC-17 crowd, big hands and big feet equate to nothing once the cross over to metric is complete. Therefore, when we turn down the complimentary in-flight tuna platter en route to Scranton (which, by the way, is not over the ocean from here) try to keep in mind the true nature of our involvement in recent events. Of particular interest should be those events best represented by photographic evidence. Oh sure…rumors abounded that these little snapshots were lost…mutilated…spindled in the process…but those were just rumors so sit back down.

Face it. It’s a process. Most things are. Some things are not. A few others were disappointingly “in the bathroom and unavailable for comment.” In the end, it all boils down to the simple question of deniability and ample closet space…both of which substantially depend on the observer’s ability to accept, that the subatomic level, a closet can never be too big or too small. It can be both or it could be neither. And…if too much time is spent arguing over the tuna platter, it effectively violates the causality of it all…hence eliminating the ability of the tuna or the closet to be adequately described as separate entities, regardless of their spatial relationship to each other at any given point in time.

This is basis of the quantum entanglement phenomenon and we here at the Old Swiss Bakery & Yellow Rubber Bootery would like to thank you for your time.

Relevant or otherwise.


Somewhere in the depths of societal discontent and finger paintings for the fridge we find Gabriella Garofalo. She’s no Navan Johnson, but her sense of entrepreneurship remains largely intact and her number wholly unlisted.



Despite recent issues with rusty hinges and forlorn neighborhood watch people, she is currently working on her second Masters degree in Clinical Toxicology. Upon completion, it is likely she will disappear into the depths of the Congo where she will make valid yet vain attempts to introduce the natives to the wonders of solar cooking and the Tupperware air tight food preservation system. Likely, yet doubtful. Meanwhile, she shills away the hours with clever ruminations of life and the molecular sorts it comprises and the relentless quest for the perfect pair of socks. Should you find that these matters disturb or perplex you and you wish to go into greater detail and discover the tribulations that lie within you, please feel free to send her some sort of rant at: chickenofdoompress@gmail.com.