Hooves and ho's yo. Like a mythological creature, the pegaskunk stinks highly of you. Like getting your underwear caught on the bannister on your first step down the stairs, you are the butt of your own joke. An unwisecrack. Shucks, said Orville to the Colonel, a little bit of butter's better than a barge of burgeoning marge. When you have nothing to say, boogie, man. Pet your dog backwards and you'll feel a believer. NOT a beliver, that's a self-berating delivery (that didn't say why). I met a lady with the last name of Ferrari yesterday, she wore black Guess jeans and a turtleneck. I tried to make a joke of our mutual post-narcissistic querulousness, but it met nothing but flexed rebuke. Reminded me of another glib remark once passed to a fair tender of a bar about her arrival being akin to the turf-tearing gallops of the Four Horsemen of the Alcohol-o-lips. I had to gulp back the static. Heard the saying 'Warm the Cockles of my Heart' a lot lately, prefer not to jostle the words into smutterings of a base sophmoronic splelling splasm. This S'Mat!'s going for dinner, so grab a sense and neutralize it. Is it any mistake that question marks look like ears?
This totally has to become a bi-weekly thing. Like the 5 pts. : )I totally enjoyed this. Awesome dude.
Post a Comment