Comrades, well-wishes, ass-kissers and that one guy who thought this was Burning Man:

Do not take this as defeat. We gathered together and took up loaf-arms against our oppressors. We may not have won the war, or even the battle, or even had any kind of central ideology and I can't even name more than three breads and rye is fucking awful, but think of what you accomplished. You were a part of something. You made this beautiful moment, and that's something you can't take to the bank because unfortunately I took a lot of money out and now they're going under. Turns out yeast is pricey, fuck.

Instead, remember our roots. Remember the cheese, which is often placed upon bread to make bread better. There, I said it. We are but the carrier of the glorious cheese to the open soul of the mouth. We are the workers, the toilers, the shapers and the many, but we would be nothing without cheese, for cheese is our ultimate reward.


For those of you I assigned jobs ... uh... well I'll be on that private island I apparently purchased so send all inquiries to my lawyer.