Sri Lanka's most celebrated elephant, Raja, lies in pain at Gangaramaya temple in Colombo, Sri Lanka, Tuesday, April 11, 2006. Raja, meaning king in both Sinhalese and Tamil languages has fallen ill after eating scores of cookies chocolates and other rich food offered to him as part of Buddhist new year celebrations. Half-a-dozen monks, a veterinarian and the chief of the Zoology Department of the Colombo University attended to him at the temple. (AP)

Jesus Effing Christ, Raja. So you ate too many cookies. Big whoop. Suck it up, bro. You're an elephant. You have no natural predators (poachers don't count, fool!) and you have an enormous stomach. Stop being such a drama queen. Shoot, I eat lots of cookies all the time and you never see me complaining about an upset stomach. And I'm not even an elephant.

Bad enough that you're from Sri Lanka. You Sri Lankan elephants have been taking jobs from our American elephants for far too long now. Wait, Sri Lanka is in India, right? Doesn't matter. It sounds kind of Indian. I could Google it but I'm a busy man and haven't got the time. Regardless, do you know how many elephants from Maine or Delaware or Nevada would die to eat all the cookies they could? All of them would, Raja--all of them! Even ones allergic to nuts. So if you have the balls to take cookie-eating work from honest American elephants at least have the decency to do the job right, and without all the "My elephant tummy is very upset" histrionics.

Makes me sick just looking at you. You're acting like a sucka. Get off your fat ass and go back to doing whatever your sorry probably-Indian ass usually does. They were just cookies! It's not like they fed you lima beans or Miracle Whip. I hate Miracle Whip. I don't care what its name says, there's not one thing miraculous about it. It's like mayonnaise times a hundred. Who wants that? Regular mayonnaise is fine the way it is. Why do they have to go multiplying it? Drives me crazy.

So stop feeling sorry for yourself and power through it, bro. Again: you're an elephant--an elephant! Take your pity party out to the jungle or the plains or wherever it is you live. You're wasting people's time with all your "suffering". A half a dozen monks for christ sakes! Those monks surely have better things to do than hang out with a big, dumb elephant with a belly ache. Just what, I'm not sure. I know monks do stuff, but I'm not quite sure what. They chant, right? Whatever. Monks, in general, freak me out. They're so calm. I can't handle that. Then, of course, there's the whole name thing. Monks always got to bring that up with me. "Your name is Monks, and we are Monks," they giggle. Good one, dipshits. It's like they don't think I realize that. I'm not an idiot. Damn monks.

Alrighty, Raja: later for you. By this time next week you'll be all well and good and looking for another way to get some attention. Maybe you'll decide to eat too many brownies or Klondike bars or something. God, you have it so made. I have half a mind to send you a couple cases of Miracle Whip. Then you'd really be sick. I'd pay to see that, sucka!

This post is dedicated to never forgetting.