![]() Dromediaryby Violet Tiara ![]() ![]() October 18, 2004 Long and hairy luminaries
hang from the sky and dangle scary fingers downward in repose just itching to twitch and pick my nose. Prescient crescents— the cartoon moons fill the sky to seven deep with beauty to cause my golden weep as I burp softly in my sleep. Luminous cumulous clouds form a shroud around "Downtown" Julie Brown who just stopped by to make a sound like a grandfather clock winding down. The night is lacquered on my crackers a taste familiar to midnight snackers the milk is sweetly, sickly sour when filtered through the midnight hour. The juice is ruthless as my sweet tooth is not satisfied by fried rice pies this milky morsel's second course is touched by meat from hobby horses. Deaf angels sing out of key on my balcony as Mr T tells me to breathe through the button hole in my sleeve. Song birds sing the wrong words with breath that smells like dog turds as long herds of banisters race the staircase twisting down to infamy. Breezy curtains swing ruining everything as my hair blows up a goat's nose and I rose to piss like a fire hose. Quote of the Day“Seek not greatness, but seek truth and you will find both. If, however, you find a bag that looks like oregano, it's mine. I mean, if the cops ask you, it's not mine, but I am totally holding it for a friend of mine.”-Ron Horsemann Fortune 500 CookieAnother day, another dollar—you should really quit the migrant worker biz for a job where you can make more than a buck a day. Fans of sweaty three-ways with lesbians rejoice, they'll have your video in stock this Thursday. I've been smelling beans all day. That can't be just me. Lucky Lucianos will be Angelo, Salvatore, Emilio, and Gary.Try again later. 5 Spin-Offs That Died in Production
![]() Ray Manatino's Half-Remembered Classics Jack Sprat could eat no fat but his wife was a big fat bitch. Shit could she eat, she ate all my beets and my pickled pig's feets. Next week poker's at your house, Jack. The itsy, bitsy, spider crawled up the water spout. I almost fucking died,... (9/20/04) Whistlepig Loud and sweet, the howling of the whistlepig erects my nipples like sails taut in the wind. Sailfish taught me to win by cheating at cards, like a cardinal at charms or an oriole with arms. Whistlepig, whistlepig, let me in, caught by... (8/23/04) I Am the Girl From Nantucket Since I believe my good name and hometown have been slandered long enough, I've endeavored to best (and hopefully replace) the famous ribald limerick that has dogged my earthly days. Stand back and smell the magic: There once was a... (6/28/04) ![]() ![]() ![]() |