02/9/26
Help for the helpless. Hap for the hapless.
|  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“Freedom is a fragile thing, and must be protected; however, it is nowhere near as fragile as my aunt's vase, so it seems a fair exchange to lock you in your room for two weeks, you little hooligan.”-Mom Fortune 500 CookieMore fruit, dammit!—more fruit, I say! Time to give up the blackmail scheme; there's no getting blood from a stone. Flush once for yes, twice for no. You'll bury all your old grudges this week, and grandpa—sorry, I suppose we could have let you know in a nicer way. Bad dog goes horrible dog this weekend.Try again later. Top-Selling commune Paraphernalia
 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 Replacing your wardrobe with out-of-date fashions?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)            |
Reproduction in hole or in parts without permission is likely to piss off her dad big time.