A Random Walk Into The Crazy Wall

Companions say Shy had solicitude and favorable ownership, but which could saw them? Perhaps Guest Man. So? Now how he be seen with single eyeball? No. No can say that one, plenty-sure.

Well, since First Cousin Slime perfectly molded juvenile offices to enjoy forbidden miles while the company denied sweetness, how come all the secretly sudden hopes of prosperous exertion remembered more of the forty talking? So typical.

Always talking. But wait! Listen more!

First the hunted cease trifling, right? Therefore unfeeling like husbands attempting carriage retention, partially enjoyable if delight therefore grazes pastures. Next, style it delicate, Joe — delicate.

Together we'll leave some promise addled, if we've behaved well, but sometimes balls provoke comparison. Anyone home after all that? Maybe. On even odd feet time they have and no at, once.

Eleven: Keep in mind, Friends. Is out there waiting for you with patience.

 

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Me? Checking out First Cousin Slime.

Pastry Patrol Sing-Along Time

Well folks, today I bit the dust. Not fun, at all. Dry and gritty. Even the good stuff from "Bite Dust & Beyond".

Then Nicola stole my Tesla. Fancy that.

Do cookies ever growl at you? I've got some real ornery ones trapped in a jar that I don't even want to go near any more. The cat is kind of spooked too. Maybe if I try humming a happy tune?

Never had a donut talk back to me before, either.

If I had a boat I could be sinking by now.

If I had a nickel for every time I said that, I'd probably have an undetermined sum of money at this point. Or a bag of nickels, depending on how you like to look at it.

 

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Me? Giving up competing with hamsters. Right now, today, and forever, mostly.

Fruit Flies Like A Banana

Whenever I become optimistic, I attract more flies.

Saw a guy being chased down the street by a very angry rutabaga. Nude. Nude rutabaga. At least the guy in question was wearing a bra.

Cooked a turkey last night. Big one. Had a hard time getting it into the oven but it settled down after a few minutes.

Always wanted to be Superman when I grew up. Am now a stock clerk at Walmart. But determined to move up.

If caramel apples are a good thing, then how about caramel potatoes?

I once knew a guy named Butch who lived in a little hutch. He went everywhere displaying quite some flair, but then we lost track of each other. I think he's selling insurance or something.

 

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Me? Counting my nuts. Again.

Freud Chicken

The world I grew up in — my family, my neighbors, the churches, the schools — all said that sex was evil. Not only was world full of sex crimes, but of crime sex, and everyone was secretly a criminal.

Things have not changed. Sex is actually still a crime, despite what the TV shows, the movies show, what people think about and talk about, and what they apparently do. Hard to imagine those people doing things. Any of those things. Really hard.

How can they stand to think about it? All of them are only bags of watery meat, all of them, and none of that meat is pretty, yet they keep up with it, and keep denying it, and hate everyone who does it, or who admits to doing it. You know, "It". The bad thing. Whatever "It" is supposed to be. I don't know — no one ever educated me about it, and now I'm still afraid of the dark.

Crime sex can apparently happen to anyone, anywhere, at any time, and infect them with terminal nastiness. Vigilance is called for. Prayer is needed. Watchfulness is called for. Public shaming is needed. Then maybe things will get better but not before. Or maybe not. Who can say?

I'd rather not be part of it, and except for one accidental relationship, I haven't been. No one has ever liked me enough to want to turn me nasty and evil too. It's all really messy, completely frowned on by all the authorities and still a perennial dirty joke. But it's lonely out here all alone, too. But that's life, isn't it? Isn't it? You aren't supposed to be happy, or to do any of those things, and fundamentally anyway, if we didn't have these nasty illegal urges would any of us truly want to do any of that nasty stuff?

I would settle for having a few friends. I would. Maybe that's just me. How it is now — just me. I'm my only friend, and no lovers. Maybe it's for the best. At least I'm legal. Mostly clean. No one suspects my one "love", as it's called. Because you have to take only one look at me to permanently never suspect. I pass.

 

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Me? Re-evaluating my relationship with bacon.

We Are Not Amusing

Run with the sheep.

A dish split for the pods. Go serve it to the gods. Charge 'em too.

A friend in need is like an umbrella without a pickle. -- Sour Puss

A twitch in the spine needs some twine, with which you can sew a stitch in time.

Butt the mustard, don't cut it. Never cut mustard. That's what you do with custard.

Death Alley. At the bottom of Breath Valley. Hard to see from the rim.

Geld the Lydia and send her lilies, willy nilly, Billy.

Gloom and boom. Boom and doom. Doom and room to go boom in the gloom.

Hopping like flies, dropping hot potatoes everywhere. Can hardly hear yourself scream over the noise any more.

I used to have an inkling until it flew away to join the circus, softly tinkling.

Katy — bar the kangaroo and meet me in court. Hop to it!

Let's get down to brat smacks, ticky-tacks, and rat snacks.

Never go anywhere without a fox in your pocket. Or locks on a stick to lock it.

No mice. No dice. No rice. I'm truly poor, sitting here on the floor, a boor.

Pull yourself up by your bootflaps, but be quiet about it. Maw is a-sleepin'.

The best laid hams of mites and men. Some in-transit shrinkage may occur.

The elephant in the gloom. The gloom in the room. Room in the flume. The spume in the tomb.

Walk free. Walk tall. Walk the plank, warts and all. (And watch the birdie. He bites, the little bastard.)

Yada yada yellow-belly year dot. Dot-dot. Shoot the pot. Make it rot.

You can lead a horticulture but you can't make carrots do a damn thing.

Young man's fancy — your name is mudflaps.

 

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Have anything to add? Then email sosayseff+snorp@nullabigmail.com
Me? Recently nominated for something by someone, somewhere.