Friday, July 03, 2009
Sticks & Stones Can Break My Bones...
Ophelia soon felt the weight of the words crushing down upon her spine, closing her in, a claustrophobic lexicon of terror.
Bear Essentials.
It was cute, until the parasitic bearcreatures started digesting her feet right off the stumps.
Barbie The Greek.
"Γειά σου Barbie, εσείς είναι όμορφο."
"Ξέρω."
"Θέλω να έρθω σε σεξουαλική επαφή με σας."
"Μπορούμε να κάνουμε αυτού στο σπίτι ονείρου μου."
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Roe Vs. Wade
Charlotte was, admittedly, a trifle disappointed when her clever "caviar" masquerade costume fell flat amongst the hoi-polloi.
Hidden Treasure.
Veronica sat at the party, bored out of her mind, until she remembered the flask of Jameson hidden in her coiffure and the bag of weed stored in her bustle. Suddenly life didn't seem so bleak.
Hoop Dreams.
After careful consideration, Ringmaster Harold had finally concluded that yes, Clara was indeed ready for 'the big jump-through.' Years of practice and a restricting diet had made her frame limber, her spine flexible, and her fear of circular objects had finally been overcome with countless "rounds" of psychotherapy and electric shocks. She'd be a star, Clara would...a star.
Fly Me To The Moon.
"I'll show them," said Gertie defiantly. "I'll fly. I'll really fly. Right over their heads."
She flew, alright. No one had the heart to tell her that she'd been secretly suspended by stage wires, at least...not until after they broke and she had a few months to kill in traction.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Suffer, Little Children.
And suffering is the ONLY way to live. No one likes a whiner, Kid With Diptheria. Lie the hell down, look at this crucifix because sufferers don't get to ENJOY LIFE. You have to sit here and listen to your guardian angel's GUILT TRIP!!!!! Put that car down and listen to a story about JESUS who REALLY SUFFERED, HE had NAILS in his hands and COULDN'T BREATHE, and you only have diptheria! SO SUCK IT UP, BECAUSE HE SUFFERED FOR YOUR SINS, AND IT WAS REALLY BAD, AND YOU'RE JUST A PUSSY! A SINNING PUSSY! PRAY FOR FORGIVENESS BECAUSE YOU'LL NEVER SUFFER AS MUCH AS OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR JESUS CHRIST!!!!!!
Cat Soup
It really wasn't THAT bad, thought Qi Ling. In fact, if you didn't imagine it with whiskers and purrs, it tasted a lot like broccoli beef...maybe a little gamier.
Scots Going On?
The next thing we knew, she was downing hefty bites of haggis, swilling Drambuie and stripping out of that plaid...coyly asking if someone would like to "play her bagpipes."
Chairman of the Bored.
Although admittedly cumbersome to carry for him, we indulged little Scotty's fantasy of being part of a beautiful dining room suite.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
RIP Billy Mays
Now who the hell is going to scream at us about cleaning with oxygen-infused products?
Recipe: The Cabin Cruiser.
Now sit right back and you'll hear a tale
A tale of a yummy cake
That started in a mixing bowl
And took one hour to bake.
Fishy Tales.
Greg, imbecile that he was, thought "Spike" was a dolphin trying to save him - and had a rude awakening when attempting to ride him to the coast and was promptly swallowed. Spike made a gallant effort to vomit him out, to be sure, but his gills gave out and Greg, grateful to the end, had him mounted on the wall above the fireplace. He would pet him adoringly, remembering the warm caress of Spike's icthyian gullet.
Blind Date: Marla.
Meet Marla. Marla is a killer poker champ and mixer of drinks. Her vodka martini has been known to put grown men on the floor...and she likes them there. Marla is one of those gals who refer to other women as "gals," and she has a laugh to rival any hyena. In her picture, it's obvious she wants to get things lively. What really gets Marla's motor running is a rousing game of Twister®, which she'll play with anyone as long as they have a pulse. Wanna ride?
Nuptials.
After the (very touching) wedding, the bride and groom were beamed up toward the Alpha-X43R10 station in the crystal transporter to watch that months' Carousel.
Stringed Worry.
Kenny probably would have been playing a lot better, were it not for the terrifying headless spectre of The Sweater Ghost looming over them at the recital.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Footloose.
They were the talk of Grover Springs (pop 322), for sure, what with their lunatic sweaters. The preacher didn't approve of such textile fancery n' such, but Andrea insisted on knitting them for her and her orphaned cousin Rocky and ain't no one in town was gonna stop them.
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