02/10/26
Phoning it in since 1997
|  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“Upon being stopped by the Customs Officer during my trip to America, he asked: 'Have you anything to declare?' I burst forward, telling him, 'Only my genius!' I was promptly beaten to a piteous pulp and subjected to a humiliating search. Needless to say, they found my weed.”-Wildman Oscar Davies Fortune 500 CookieBy next week you will not believe what passes for a blowjob these days. Guess how many quarters I have in my left pocket and I will be quite surprised. I said don't cauliflower last week? I did? That doesn't sound like something I'd say. Remember, trust no one. Including me. If you believe that, you're a fool.Try again later. Top-Selling Halloween Masks
 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)            |
Reproduction in hole or in parts without permission is likely to piss off her dad big time.