Corroded Virus News

Corroded Virus stole my socks. Last time I ever sleep in this dumpster.

Corroded Virus held a victory parade today. I watched from the balcony but there wasn't much to see since the cat stole my microscope.

Corroded Virus thought it could get the better of us. Good thing I bet my life savings on it. Now I can die rich.

Corroded Virus has been nominated for the YoubeeToobee Awards, most-authentically-viral category. This gooses my fever pitch something fierce.

Corroded Virus is leaving footprints on the Walk of Fame. So far only the flies are getting excited about this. The rest of us are busy puking and sweating.

Corroded Virus String Band. Remember you heard about it here first, if you're still alive tomorrow. And have really good hearing.

Corroded Virus tuna cakes, still faithful to Mom's oldtime recipe. Bite one — discover the unexpected.

Corroded Virus wants to own your nose.

Corroded Virus has a thing for mucus-filled bodily cavities. I myself cannot say that I do, but if I did, you wouldn't hear about it from me, would you?

Corroded Virus would surely appear on the cover of Look magazine, if Look hadn't also died, so very long ago now.

Corroded Virus does not come in designer colors, which must be one reason that people are running away screaming. Well, I am, and that sounds like a reasonable excuse.

Corroded Virus does not replace ice cream sprinkles. Or taste that good.

Corroded Virus dares you to lick me all over.

Corroded Virus never shaves its arm pits. Never washes them either. Think about it next time you lick me all over.

Corroded Virus couldn't be happier. Because it's a virus and has no happy glands. So there is a limit.

Corroded Virus is yet one more epic story of endless success even without a diploma. I should have tried this.

 

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Me? Wordlessly awaiting wonders.

Effeluntings

Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored. -- Aldous Huxley (dead)

FailureMate tubular tubas. Discounted for the holidays.

Fair trade shade butter. Discounted for ever.

Far out into deep space there was an eclipse, if anyone had been there to see. No one was. More space waste.

Farble Nart, my new friend. One of the eastside Narts, known especially for their handy ways with darts.

Faster joy. None too soon.

Father Potato was a dud. You can't make holidays from a spud.

Fear gas. Got any?

Feat belts.

Feed chunks.

Tropical feet wave.

Ferd baked some bacon back by the bunkhouse to plop into his beans. He's like that.

Fernando began dancing gleefully shortly before bursting into flames and roasting himself right there in the ballroom. Good thing we brought ketchup.

Fernando Poo — no longer a hot tourist destination, if it ever was. My hotel room smelled funny too.

Fernando? You mean Fernando Poo? No, he don't do that here no more.

Fight through it on a Wednesday.

Filter festival.

Finally hit bottom. Had to sell my sister to buy cigarettes and pay my health insurance premium. (Rates just went up.)

Finally. This is the day I've been waiting for. Now I only have to remember why.

Fire monkey.

First day of summer, but since I'm south of the equator, I go down the drain backward, and it's winter too. Damn.

First go the eyes, then the ears. Old age slows me and then the hyenas arrive. Death lunch.

First I saw my reflection in the doorway. Then it turned and walked away shaking its head. Then I did too. We shake alike.

First the rain, and then the rain. No sign of a drystorm blowing in. I guess I'll go back to playing with my lizard.

First the universe popped up. Then it inflated, and now I'm grumpy and have gas.

First things first, always. But which one is that, really? And who's actually going to know? Want a kiss? (I always carry a spare.)

First time I ever ate an entire rosebush was the summer of '62. I was out on parole and had to do something, but times are different now.

First time I ever sewed my lips together. Last night. Not quite sure how that happened. Maybe the cat knows. He likes to watch stuff I do.

First time I ever took a bath was when the ship went down. Lost all the towels in the process. Never want to do that again.

First, nibble a few gnats. Crunch some caddis. Munch a millipede madly, or two. Then, to be safe, brush your teeth briskly.

First, you put your left foot in and shake it all about, after which you break for lunch, change your name, and never come back.

First-rack carbon dating app.

First-rate snake plate.

Fish farts quietly, making bubbly sounds.

Fish Lips to blow bubbles in the 4th, coming in third behind Tuna Gas. All told not a great place to be.

Enough! I've had enough! Someone call the nearest flush monkey.

 

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Me? On the lookout for a better virus.

Lickry

Dad taught me everything he knew. And then he died. Loser — I mean. So I forgot all that and started listening to the cat. Now I can lick my own butt and also have eight more lives in waiting, in case. #No_Loser_Me_Eh?

I covered myself in stamps and sent myself to the lady next door. She has cats. All of them enjoy licking me now.

I never licked Captain Kangaroo, so, did you? Which parts?

I spent some quality time with my new girlfriend today. She's a cat. Nothing serious though. We just both enjoy nibbling mice. And mutual licking of selected furry spots.

Last night I had my first bath in cookie dough, then licked myself clean. Seems like a lot of effort. I don't even like cookie dough. But it was either lick myself for an hour or sit in a 350° oven until brown.

Mom said it's OK with her if I lick you.

That woman who just came in, and our eyes met, who looked away? She doesn't like me. When I asked if I could lick her, she said mean things. I heard them all. Mean.

 

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Me? Resting my tongue this week.