Day 299: The Crying Blob
Pumpkin Wrapping For The Unborn Nappy.
Well Introductions always come first. Yes so here I am, all out and about. But please do be quiet, we all speak in tongues :) P.S: I'm not a hairy little troll. I'm the One-Eyed Giant-Dwarf....
Screeching like a barren pimple, I thought maybe I should lie. But that frozen turnip knew all too well that I was the wiser and could fathom such a thought. So instead I sneakily sounded the vowels like a clopped possum and I wheezed with the ordain pokings in a dainty dart. You see, Stumps had failed to inform me that she was truly in the depths of "love" with the hunchback of Clarkson High. I shan't divulge names but this Scottie Character had wooed her to the prism binding realm of insatiable insanity. I flicked her ear but then I thought "The Poop offered to buy the drink and I refused?" I could have savoured the weight of a filled wallet, but no, I let it get away. Grandma will once again ignore the rosing temples that spark the very essence of intellectual vastness but no, I am not worthy. Have it your way.
Blobs Are Blue For Winter Can never Snow.
The incoherent coagulations in an unheeded rind. I said "How can you expect to hear with munchkins munching that there corner?" But no one spoke to the wind that drifted across the room. Looking around all was silent and cosy dreams....EXCEPT that gawd awful devil munching that rattled the brainless monkey scoops in the tropics! Is it truly the workings of an undead beastly monstrosity that sees it so fit to disturb my almost near silent surroundings and to inflame the temples? I believe it not. I should get out my trusty but ever so clean dusting mop and search that dirty little feather muncher out....No one will rule the sounds in this housing space without first consulting the fleas trapped in the entanglements below. The carpets you silly oyster! I shall seek and destroy and none shall stop me, let me at it!
Laughing Like A Balding Balloon.
Awakening from my untorturously insane sleeping arrangement, I did notice something weird and so down left to the wrong side. I sat up in all the horror in no attempt to decipher the event at hand. Slowly it moved and I wobbled. So did it. What could be so disastrously devilish like the pickled gherkins that spoke to the worms? Nothing. That’s right, this moment was no worse than a midget eating rice on the bus with a square dancing pixie making the ungawdly decision to pee up the pipe, between the midgets toes. Nope, It could only be described as something from a comedy that made no sense and was more than nothing like gravy slopping from that disgusting orifice you house that poor like tongue in. What the hell did it ever do to you? I said it with my eyes and a lumpy lollypop-man said no. Drool had escaped my face and dribbled down the cheek to a position worth noting. It was there in the middle like a puddle on the roof.
Scissors Clip The Burnt Side Pin.
Tarnished! The rebounding devils that make it crack have had at it. I speak only of that trashy thing which housed my only source of warming tingles. The pain will grow and I can't bear to go there. No, please no. I refuse to eat from its loins, that is beyond the beneath of me. Taking my trash can was more than it had beared. The dumpster gave me those good looks like it would happen there. I shall have to find home soon. Not a one person flower beater is looking for me anyways.
"...And It Was My Time..." - Lisa Stewart, 2006
“It’s Noice, It’s Different, It’s Un-Ewes-Yewl!” – Kath And Kim
Escaping into the cold, cold night I ran with my legs. They did stride so far and wide i had to ask, "But how did you eat the leaves?" Not replying, those snoots, they took me across a paddock. I feared for the sprites all bottled up. It is something of a shame. But them i came so frightfully close to a street. A darkened ally of which housed the very most interesting things of all. That's right; I say it like a beef sandwich, Thanks for the keys. Stopping all so abruptly, i had to slap those legs for the undeniably inopportune moment; i really wanted to see the corner over there. But then i saw a nice as nice little friend. I said hello and in the gust of the wind, i heard a never so nearly not there reply "Hi." So thankful for the return, i decided to house myself within its confines. Tearing an edge, i apologised like the kind-hearted twiglet that i most assuredly am and i screamed as we fell into the sleep. A white-hair sandwich offered itself to me... I gratefully accepted the use of a pillow in these harshest of times.
Speaking Squirrels, Nurture Of The Swine.
I've done it. I've gnawed through those devilishly trapping, wrapping straps. How dare they confine me to the raping pleasure of a forehead band! I will seek to cast the curse, but firstly I must get out; If it could be the very last thing I ever had done. Gosh, my letterbox will be in the overflow. I can see it with my eyes, sitting there, coughing and spluttering; letters jammed deep within it's orifice of doom. Such a gloomy day today. Last night the sky did cry so heavily and then that darn evil, yellow popping minion of heavenly eye blinding morning, did swing itself around and remove my cover. The shiny, fineness of it; Oh, it sickens me. I must make it right or the tulip sand will never bite!
To Make It Late For Polka-Dot Snorps.
In any kinda floodle of an afflicted sign, you were too slow or too unsmart to get it. Alas, my sweet, sweet creation of hilarious laughter has begotten your malevolent eyes of scorching doom as they gazed away at thenormal boring sun rays, seeping into the infinite darkness to reach those useless retina's you have. Could you not have tempted yourself to fool around? It is a dirty, dirty shame that burning bush of seduction and desire were not quenched by my lucrative inspiring essence of filthy G-Rated porn. The only nudity was that of a finger or two and your minds were to guttered to perceive it's glorious perfection of humour versus the insane mind of two freaks gone far down the path of unrighteousness; to comically violate and amuse of course :P
Shhhhh! Do not speak the words so loudly. I did get a nappy and I found it just where I told you. It was lying there, waiting so innocently, there in the cupboard down the corridor. It was so shiny and smooth, I could not resist but sanitise it right there. As if I'd touch it otherwise barehanded! Hell no to that you wacky pencil case from the unknown pocket of horrible god worshipping doom. But now I must wait patiently til the time can pass that I will have my way with the filthy little pooh catcher.
Looking Is A Privilege.
Was it not mouldy enough? I bet it farted. Why didn't they see its insane beauty?? It sang, it croaked, it broke all the soap; it tried as hard as it could. But apparently it wasn't the fleas’ keys because the postie was not as enthralled as I had previously imagined. In fact, that devil worshipping Policy Man did return for my Operation! I again refused for I loved it dearly. But he was like a stone rock. Harder than the walls I say. I stormed off, in an outrageous outrage, how could I let myself say such a profanity like "Holy, Moley, Majolley!" But with no further complaint I shoved the Operation into his belly and said "But do be careful to remove the twigs, the line is broken." And with unlawful truthfulness that oozed from my orifice like sludge from a drain, I smiled like the dirty soap I became and there I stood. A single tear escaped and trickled its filthy essence down my now dirty face. I closed the door and cried.
Scissors Snip The Paper Wall.
All day I feared the very worst. I was in shock and horror at the near takings of my filthy present. One lonely fly did try to sneak a munch on it, but before I could do a thing, it keeled over and died. It must have been near death an in a wishing crave for yummy tastings, but it failed so miserably. And there it was. My feud will forget it ever was and they will leave me mail once again. BigBird was about to receive my prize! Ohhh, I'm so happy! They took it, my present of horrible filth was plunged deep within their bag. Yes, can you believe, we must now be friends!
The Sick Gherkin Tricks The Knee.
Those vultures are at it. I did as I said and it was true. I can't believe such an omnivorous thing could bestow such unlawful qualities only shared by the RatDevil and RatGirl before them! I did throw some non-Oreo cookies out on the filth ridden road. And out they sprang, like a docked parrot and they gobbled up those dirtied cookies like they were out for the litter. Those poor filthy souls. They know not of their own unrighteousness that blinds their windows. Yellow and Pink polka dots are not for curtains you know.
A Cup Of Jam And Tea.
I did not hear the whispers until they were right inside of me. I tried to speak but my tongue was not there. I walked a mile only to find you; sitting there. But you were not there. You were just a doll. That same doll. You traumatised me in my youth, so I cut your hair. But soon after I was even more scared. Would you come and get me, in the middle of the night? Sharpened nails to cut me? Would you seek such revenge? But no, you’re still sitting there. And there you will stay, locked in the cabinet, for I can not take the chance. So there you will stay, locked in there with you now shortened hair.
Cough Up Your Fur ball, Now Push Me Up The Slide.
It was all fine and dandy. Yes, it was dandy, do not insult the word; it does feel its own horrible existence enough without your devilish input. Anyways, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, it happened on that day. It was like any other day, except it was a Wednesday. It was so nearly close to home time. Yes, you guessed it, I was too at that filthy trauma conceived school. Do not detest its awesome power, you cannot resist, only hope to survive unscathed - I passed through with flying colours obviously :) So anyways, it was like this. I was there and Lisa was there; sitting to my right. We were enjoying our time together because we are friends and we cared not for the nappy-haired minions that sat in front of us...yes they were evil! And we were having the fun when damn, the teacher came. He looked like Mr Sheen, the spray stuff, but he also brought along the teacher in "Training." oh yay, it was going to be fun. Well it was. The teacher spoke some words that revealed the horrid truth, Ms Capon would be teaching the class today. Holy hell in spam! So I thought I would let her have a chance and so I sat all nice an innocent like. "Hello everyone, we're going to **coKAHHHK!** She had coughed up a fur ball and sent it flying across the room. The class was in shock. But as sure as you are, Lisa and I did not laugh. We sat and inside we were bubbling. Smiles grew so big we were freakishly tormented clowns from the depths of that insanely "big" tent. Meanwhile, Ms Capon paused for a few seconds. She swept her vision across the class mumbled, "I'm gonna be si.." and she flew herself out the door and never returned that day. Yes, this is when we let it out. We let it out so hard, we were in a fiddled state of giggles and wiggles. Laughter bellowed down the corridor and had ourselves a fun time indeed.
A Shoe Does Not Crackle.
I heard some wailing and some moans after that. Then pleasurable groans; oh, what’s that? And a giggle!? "What is this atrocity," I asked with a heightened pitch! I stormed my way through the house. It is a cows hide in here. No one else understands the necessity for sanitary hygiene. I did find my way to the back lounge room, turned and there it was! Bypassing nerve impulses for thought; I was in a debacled puking state. There in the china cabinet lay Lisa the Lizard Fairy. How did she enter? The locks are on the outside?? More importantly, what did she think she was doing? It was a profanity I can barely survive remembering. Ok, so there was Lisa and she was doing it! That's right! She was indeed, bathing, there, in grandma's vase. It singed my eyeballs shut it was so twisted.
Laughing Glasses Google The Fry.
I saw it. It sat there fat as a place of four walls and a pointy hat! I tell no lie or crooked curves; it was too a Bicorn. You don't believe such nonsense? Well I said it was fat, what more should be spoken? Don't believe me then but I saw it and it was there, engulfing the hordes of troll minions wielding their treacherously hardened cheese off cut swords of doom and destruction, all the while wearing their filthy bacon rashers from the very bowels of the stench ridden hell. So that is why they returned. It makes a picture now.
Why Aren't They Included?
There is was. Its eye's gawking at my body. I wouldn't normally care due to the fact that I am so hot, I enflame myself, but... it's hideous! All its eight eyes were staring, undressing me. "I'm being violated" I screamed, "The profanity!" I proclaimed. An overgrown monstrosity, freak like thing; I can't believe. How in the melting depths below, did it get so big? That unholy freak was sent from the devil itself to reprimand my righteousness for all things I do good. I threatened to squish, for I possess no more spray. And like I was the hideous monster, it did scurry outside screaming an awful screech.
Dancing Tulips Cut The Weave.
There is a malignant stench, housing the available air; here inside my very admirable living corners. Yes, I am in a grief stricken trauma about it; why the hell should I get over it? No way am I opening my mouth any time soon. I can't let it bypass my gapping nostrils; I wouldn't get the taste out for days!
To Crack An Egg In Instincts' Face.
I awoke in such a funny sensation. It was moist and a kind of stroking. Not up and down, just up, up and up again. I could expect no less for leaving it in the open, pointing to the sky. But what could be doing it? I did not know, so I opened my eyes for a peek and there was my dog! It was so dirty; I am in shame! So sweetly encapsulated in its salty flavour, my dos was licking my toes. It tickled too, I must say, but what is that you were thinking? Speak up?? Treacherous denial of an unnamed, unearthly demon monk from the shrimp dimension. You are the stinky seesaw!
And To Think I Had Breakfast Yesterday.
Do my eyes decieve me? Are they playing foolies with my convoluted brain? No?! Then why the hell does Lisa The Lizard Fairy have two arms and hellishly long legs? Might I say, they were near perfect, not nearly one inperfection to be googled. Were they not Barbie legs I did see horrify and blind my vision? How on the disgustingly hell spawned earth of doomy gloom did she find it? No, she mustn't have, she couldn't! My Barbie Goes To Hell And Then Dies Collector's Edition is ruined! Noooooooo! She will pay, she...will...pay.....
I am screaming in horror, in complete and utter shock! How could it be that the world was so mean? I thought I was going to die to death, those filthy things; they did molest my outer shell. I should have foreseen such a trauma, for it did enter from the outside. But I was in denial, it's my bed base and it would/could never harm me. So this is how the unholy event from within imaginable horrors went down: I was there. I was picking my crusty sleep from my glaring eyes, praising myself for creating sleep of such gem-like quality. Yes I am proud. Then I saw it. Falling from the roof, riding the wicked air waves. Hand gliding the turbulence created by the sitting fan. Scouting out the lands that lye ahead. Before long, an army was descending upon me and my precious head! of course I screamed, what would any sane microbe do? I, however, had the decency to keep my gapping mouth closed the whole time. What if one got in there? Hideous baby spider were raining down, I had to run. Across the room I darted, but they were so fast. I wasn't going to make it. I panicked like a pickled gherkin. Squealing without the horror of opening up to them. I dived. Rolling I crashed through the door, right under them all. That was that. I was not in a mood to be reckoned with. Death to them all! And then I found it. A hairy biatch from another dimension, spawning hatchlings to torment our world. God she was ugly. She came out to greet my finger of doom and yet she didn't have the courtesy to shave her filthy legs! Rude, I say and so I came down upon her like her death babies had done to me. Raining down with spray, I tortured her malignant soul full of all things spidery evilness. DIE, DIE, DIE! And she did, eventually.

I found it! Oh my precious, my precious little gemmy. It did roll here, sometime last spring. It was so long ago, but still I smell it's sweet aroma. It's yummy, so effervescent scent was lost to me. But now, my last Malteeser, found safe and still quite round. As perfect as that day I last saw it. And here, in my cupboard it sat, awaiting my arrival, it's very own rescue. I must savour the moment...gulp - oops.... CaHaCoufloo *spit* Ok that was a mothball. My poor malteeser still lost and so fragile in this horrible demon infested world of devil spawned minions that rose from their heavenly graves to throw malevolent parties in which Malteesers are a delicious delicacy, Noooooooooo! Actually that mothball wasn't too bad, mmmmm yum.
How could I have forgotten to memorise your everlasting need to be informed? Or should I be asking, how could you not know, not realise? In the meantime, it has been a few days now, but yes, I did enter the broom cupboard. Yes, the horror, the dazzling aroma, it haunts me. But could you have known the beginning that happened? It was like a cold and freezing, but beautiful winters day all rainy and dark gloominess. For some unforseen reason, I hesitated not and simply strolled right in there. What is wrong with me? I did not even think to ask my retched brain; which failed to inform me of the filthy situation about to occur. One second I was walking and the next I was in a screaming torture chamber of some unknown cupboard demon dimension that spawns a never ending supply of cobwebs! I screamed so much, both Ashley and Lisa were in disgust. I screamed, pushing through the webs to feel the back of the cupboard. I continued walking in like my legs we no longer mine to control. Then I saw it. I stopped screaming for a nanosecond. I looked at my right hand and screamed. I looked over at my left hand and screamed. Then I turned my head from side to side so swiftly, screaming each time I saw my newly web encrusted hands. "It's on me, get it off. GET IT OFF!" I screamed. And that, dear RatMinoins, is when Lisa slammed the door.
There I sat, in my cupboard, my new home inside home. And yet still, the cobwebs are forming? Oh surely you would know the truthfulness like a bar of ungodly soap? Yes, I am inhabited; well, at least, I was. How rude it felt, to awaken in this confined cold, dark and moist cocoon of mine. My finger had the right urge to relieve that irritant tickle deep inside, but some demon, birthed from the innards of an unsaintly sac, was blocking the hole! It was a SPIDER! I squealed; I hit possessed mops bent on licking foreheads; I screamed and I hit every wall, germ infested crevice and booms of all the in-betweens. But finally, after much an anxiety attack or two, I was able to do it. I snorted that beastly monstrosity from within my inner recesses. I'm good, I'm fine, I braved it.I can hear them out there in the hallway, the bathroom and yes, even in the pantry. Why have they returned? I am not so evil, nor am I so deserving of this torturous torment. Those hell spawned minions are at it again. I don't know why they returned so soon, or what they want, but it must infuriate the peas. I will not let these filthy invaders of the under gallows interrupt my oh-so-busy life, which it is. It is the trolls.Yes; they have broken free of the crack-hole in the middle of my hideous kitchen floor. I knew the peanut butter would fail me....But the dirtiest, most filthy, fowl and satanic thing from Mars? They now wear nose tingling bacon rashers for armour, while still wielding their sharp as hell, hardened cheese off cuts.
Yellow Donkey’s With Dark Eyes.
A horribly chiming sound sprung to demented life and pierced my ear like a fish in water, but what was it to be? I could not know and I did thin it would just leave me alone, but no. The filthified box in the sky upon Virgil's curved arc sounded out another mouldy melody of doom. In the trauma I was confused and so dizzy running in circled squares, I made a dash for the door. And as I opened that unholy door, I was greeted by the most unsaintly people I have never had the privileged to meet. They too did not believe I was old and wrinkled enough to wave tongues in speech and then had the NERVE to place upon my fingertips, filthy god books, in=my-hand! GAWD BOOKS! Can you believe the uproar? I squealed. I screeched I flung those pages at the freaks and wiggled my fingers in disgrace. Off they ran, but there on top the door mat, laying so peacefully, Welcome hidden beneath their demonic textures; the god books lay on the door mat, blocking my path. How to get to the letter box now, hmmm?
Evil Rests Atop The Ledge.
Since when do people just waltz up and poke around in your own EarWax? I was all telling myself that, "Yes I do look fine enough to venture out to the letterbox already," but then I was like, "NO! That strand is out of place, I can't bare it!" Eventually, I did muster up the dreadful courage to step outside. And so, I strolled out to the letterbox and RUUUUDE, nothing was there. I turned around like a snoot and do you know what happened? I turned around to run back inside when there, down the side of my angelic house was a filthy germ infested human demon. It was horrible, I say, it was poking its hideously long nose into a hidey-hole I knew nothing of. I felt it necessary and so I did it with silenced hesitation. "It's not right to stare in to my gapping hole” and I did give them the one-eyed evils. I immediately sprung in to a full-fledged sprint for the front door, holding back my screams of terror and frightfulness.
I'm Floating, Here, There And All Around.
The evil red man of soapy soap cleanliness is harassing me again. Why does he want my skin? Always he's there so close, so near to my skin. Well you can't have it. I don't care if it's fricken perfect or not, it's mine, mine, allllll MINE! And to say the least, why is it that you think my skin is perfect? Is it because I've had so few pimples in my life? Is it because I have faded freckles on my snowman complexion? Or is it the filthy blackheads that cover my nose like landmines? Too often is it I get the jealous looks, it isn't that damn great so leave me my skin and get over it please. Thank you, have a nice day :)
A Turning Pipe Will Win.
I'm going to tell you about Cellulite Girl. You don't need to know about two bum girl, she's not worthy of a story. I'll just say, quickly, she had two bums, one on top of the other and yet oddly strange it was that she did not seem to have tremendous weight anywhere else on her body. Back to reality and we are going to be horrified. I was sitting here and Lisa there, next to me. Her filthy boyfriend was next to her; he was disgusting beyond grossest things. Anyway, Cellulite Girl was all prancing around like she was something worthy of googling yes. Only it was Lisa and I who were looking and we certainly we not in the googling. Hideous no. She stomped over to the teacher and was standing there in front of my desk. Maybe she was advertising with her bum wiggling in the air. Lisa and I were in a state of disapproval she was in our way, but.... Lisa was, is, in to close inspection of the microscopic kind and zoomed her eyes in on to Cellulite Girls thigh. I had no idea, but Lisa was in a giggle festive fit rolling around in her chair and she whispered'n'giggled and gasped for breath as she spoke these words "Look...at...her...thigh! IT"S GOT RIPPLES!" And there I saw it. Cellulite Girl was wearing ultra tight, white stride-like trousers and we, the special two, could see the cellulite bursting the seems!
The BoggleyEyed Genie Is Getting Nearer.
Oh god, that hideous RatGirl thinks she's the damdest hot stuff of the underworld, that she feels it right to shake her mangy booty, if you can call it that, all down the street. How she collected the courage to show herself in public I can't understand. And how too did she muster the intellect to follow the wannabe rappers?
RatGirl prancing down the street in her trashbag hoe getup. Bling-blink dangling from her anorexic neck. We pray it weighs so much it stresses the bones and at least fractures and splinters. But mostly, just mostly we wish she would die and go back to hell again so we can have peace for another day or two, maybe. Plus the horrid adding of Cellulite Girl, almost like Two-Bum Girl, without the extra bums but extra thighs instead. I will expel the horror and fear upon you as I calm-it-down long enough to reminisce.
Two In Line For Back-Burning Lime.How likely is it to be, that you awaken in the morning before
A Slashing Doll Keeps The Lie.
It was even more terrible than the norm. Usually they don't speak; I'm sure most don't have them. This one had it hanging out oozing and spraying all over. It was filth I say. To make matters undeniably worsened, it had the despicable nerve to flomp its way over to Lisa and her younger sister Katie. But that’s not all, the story continues.... As soon as it arrived in their proximity, there was speech, mostly unrecognisable. The thing was the SausageMan down at Coles the supermarketing store. How hideously deformed he must have been, but to exist without that knowledge. And it spoke these words to Lisa and the sister looked on; horrified. "I want a girlfriend," Lisa looked sideways at its horrible form. "Can you be my girlfriend?" the SausageMan said. Lisa, so traumatised by it's proximity to her and was shocked into squealing "NoOoOoOooo!" but the SausageMan did not listen. He continued with, "Will you marry me? I love you 'cos you’re pretty." That was it, and Lisa was in an upheave, struggling to pick up the shopping basket she dropped in the dramatic sequences. There Lisa was flailing her arms in the air, screeching for help as she ran from the trauma.... Katie trailing behind as too was the SausageMan. But do not fear. Lisa survived, oh yes we are all so happy, for she sacrificed her little sister to it and it will leave you all alone for ever, the evil sister, not the SausageMan.
Goodnight Boys And Girls, But Hidden Deep Is That Poor Katie In The Meat.
Dangle Like A Polar Bear, Talk To The Tree.
"It's still raping me!" Lisa let out with a cry. "The Savage; It made a hole." And turning towards my direction, she continued with, "It's still in there!!! Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" And a screaming squeal she did reveal. "A Three horn prickle had the nerve to plunge itself and penetrate my foot, right there," she pointed to the ground, "in the vicinity of my own lounge room... How did it dare enter my fortress???" Lisa was in dismay.
And so Lisa squealed, flinging her foot around in disgrace. She never did find that naughty prickle, but she smirked with slight satisfaction, "I snapped it off though; lets see that prickle rape me again!" Not realising it has two horns still to prick her foot with.
Lashing Cushions Like To Bleed.
I bought a car today...well my parents bought it for me. Hey, don't call me a brat! I am not in the money rolling business and the amount we have can't be swum in. I like it. It is blue, yes not purple so shut you nostrils please. Your tendrils are spiking, why? Gosh, you'd think I was given the world the way your acting. Anyways, it was an el-cheapo (though my sis would opposingly disagree) without aircon, but it has power steering and a cd player so there. In the midst of it all lies a mysterious button. I will have to snap a captured image of it and shove it over the net to you so you too can ponder its mysterious frost like mystery. It has a fog light button too, but I could see no fog lights. Strange as it may seem, I think I can deal with it....hmmmm, yes. Alright, off to bed then. I have to drive now. Yes I know the lameness of it all. No more chauffeur to cart my carcass around. Rather silly isn't it getting a contraption such as this? Now I think of it.
Good Night And Don't Let The Leaches Stick To Your Thigh.
"Veal do this," Veal do that." I said, "Veal Do Nothing!" Slabs of filthified BABY meats don't DO anything. I felt like abusing the butcher at the supermarket for even suggesting the veal as an option. How could you not know that would offend? Anyone would be so down right outside of their mind to contemplate such an aweful thing. If I find out you eat veal from those barely even born calves, you've got another thing coming. That's right; I will flick fake M&M wannabe's at you and put a widgety grub in your ear. Then those Daddy Long Legs can move in and throw a net over your face to suffocate you. They are the naughty squealers I say. They do too do that, Jolene told me so!
Do The Chicken’s Eat Best?
It was supposed to be a good day, a day free of Ritalin and demonically divine festivities. But no, there was no fixation. The lacquer was lost to the netherworlds in the brushes and drain pipes. Gone to the pillow fibers and gunked up in the nozzle. My hairspray was dry, not moist. Apparently moist is a dirty word reserved for the filthy low-lives that bed before wed or something similar. I say, Calm-It-Down already. Anyway, I was in a pickle. How could I brave the unknown with flying tentacles? I stepped up to the plate. I opened the door and said "hello." I tried to be calm and normal while signing for the package. But as it would inevitably happen on purpose, a whipping tentacle of hair flipped around matrix style and flicked me in the eye. I stood there, my eye paining. Water drooling out all gushing like and some droplets dripped onto the page. I tried to conceal it, the hair, not the tear! so I dropped my head like it lost all it's muscles, handed the clipboard back and retreated inside my dusty broom closet. There's no door, but it works well enough I do think.
Squeal Like A
I can't believe you did it. After I asked you not to touch. You stuck out your filthy paws and reached right over to it. I know you've spoken to the frozen monk; why else would you eat some of my popcorn?
The day is ruined in tattered shreds of humiliation and shameful, um, things.... I'm too distraught to sift through my germ infested mind to think of something so worthy to end that hell spawned sentence. It was my popcorn.
Spin The Wheels And Lay An Egg.