The Visitorsby Eli Snaubertzen ![]() December 10, 2001 Snooty bugle-playing burglarsWhy do you bother me? Go to hell, you naked buglers Cease your melody. Who invited uncooked hamhocks All these pigs I see? Go away, freeloading pork pies Get out my Christmas tree. Get out Santa, get out Elvis Get out Sandra Dee. I don't recall inviting anyone To share my ginger tea. Mister Walrus, Miss November Tell me did you see A sign hung from my door that said "Please come and bother me"? Were my windows not shut tightly? Did my door not lock? Was the hint too vague and subtle, When I threw that rock? Go on, get out! Every last shrew! Every last motorcycle cop! And I will surely lose my patience Unless those bongos stop! Clear out my house! Get out the door! Leave my city block! Don't come back here even if You forgot your sock! No more mastiffs, no more lawyers, No more mimes or cows No more microbes selling Amway Leave and I mean Now! What now? What's that? No, my pills ran out. Goodness, you're right, call the doctor! Thank you, Mr Trout. Quote of the Day“I got the blues so bad. Real bad. You know what I'm talkin' about? Uh-huh. No fun. Bluesy blues. Well, that's about all I got to say about that. Song's another four minutes long though. Soooo… Any of y'all from Cleveland?”-Ugly Carmichael Fortune 500 CookieYou will get kicked in the balls for a good cause this week. Expect a telephone call from a long forgotten friend today—your split personality from Belgium. Lose the mustache, that "Hitler" look is so 1997. This week's stomach-pump jackpot: $20 in loose change, long-lost stash, grandma's favorite knitting needles, Nerds.Try again later. Most Misunderstood Nirvana Songs
Distraction Fifteen phantom penpoints All under my control I move them deftly, swiftly smearing ink upon a single slice of paper. Sixteen sweatered titties Distracting me so simply from my fifteen phantom penpoints Nothing worthwhile written, once... (11/26/01) Shuns Who has been flushing your worldly possessions? Replacing your wardrobe with out-of-date fashions? Making your schnauzer do Nixon impressions? Squeezing your neighbors for seedy confessions? Coating your lips with pre-cancerious lesions? ... (11/12/01) The Waistland April be the month that's meaner Than a shot of carburetor cleaner Or an icy, uncooked wiener Said the raven: "Ned's a Whore". "Ain't my lookout," said the genie, in a voice so tiny, teeny Ned thought it a baby, beanie And burned down the... (10/29/01) |