You thought you could always count on Cookie Monster. Sure, we can't smoke in the grocery store any more, people look at you funny if you have a couple of Crown Royal rocks at lunch, and now I have to bring my own tote bag to the grocery store like an NPR listener with a little grey ponytail. Fine, whatever. At least Cookie Monster was still out there. He was all FUCK YOUR RULES, I EAT COOKIES, THAT'S WHAT I DO, TAKE YOUR SALAD AND YOUR SOY MOCHA AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS.
Then they got to him too. Because you know what? Now "cookie is a sometimes food." Oh, fuck, CM, I am so sorry. You were the rebel, the danegrous one, and now you're putting on your New Spirit cross-trainers and doing yoga and having a smoothie. This sucks. I prefer to remember you as you were:
Cookie was good enough for all of us, Cookie Monster. For all of us.
Don't stare at Oscar the Grouch if he's looking a little placid and glassy-eyed. It's the klonopin.