Dinner Dateby Violet Tiara ![]() May 27, 2002 Swizzle-stick me in a jar,
mastodons in foreign cars. Oh what lovely buggering bubbly sex shows on starships tonight! Chew up those rancid tulips like I know you want to, Stone Phillips. Belching out butterflies, watching them flutter by, gastric delights hued in blue. Don't be so dumb, dressed up and down in that bubblegum. Don't you know you're the queen? Practical jokes are so mean. My lady you drink like a whore. Rubber wigs are low-fuss. Parsley sprigs condemn us. Slap on that wig and shit out a fig, see if they won't now get us a table! Stone Phillips, the queen and me, dancing on MTV. Dining on the finest low-calorie vaginas this posh restaurant can provide us. Laughing whenever we see the bluebirds of jealousy. Asking a Yeti with a ceramic machete to kindly pass the spicy mustards. The creature, a teacher, a pig and the pope sang a song all about their plans to elope. And with a loud blast the ballroom was gassed (and though it was passed) I don't think that was spicy mustard. 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. Who Let the Dogs Out?
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