Go Ahead - Pooch Out Piles

Brushed my hair this morning. Carefully. It's the only one left standing.

Button thy flap, Jack, or use the zipper. They both work fine though the zipper is quicker, so prepare if you dare: The Noodles On Parade parade is next week.

Can I get my fossils removed in Mexico?

Clive Custard's Patent Pudding Pooper. "Pooches out piles of pudding suitable for possibly every taste and most occasions." Buy six, just in case.

Data Leopard is ready to solve all your problems, no matter how many legs they have.

Did you see what just flew by? (I was eating soup.) It seemed to have incinerated half a dozen cars with its breath, which is entertaining, but not quite as good as the soup. Anyhow, the main course has now arrived, so I need to chow down, and then head home for my skin replacement therapy.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? I didn't do it this time.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

Never Discuss Protons With Martha

Amy Erosion and her embarrassment of ditches will be on tour soon. Don't wait. Please.

Am turning to forgery. That way I get to pretend I'm real, and pass myself off as someone else. All I have left to do is pick an unobtrusive serial number.

Amalgamated Fuzzy Nut Rolls. Because we could. By invitation only.

April 11th today and I'm 12 years old and 13 inches tall, and have cramps.

Ants make poor financial advisors, at least in this market environment.

Besides the crankshaft, I bought a pea shooter. Now I have a crankshaft and a pea shooter. Still no car, and no peas to shoot at. Maybe tomorrow. I never give up.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Got stuck licking lollipops in the turnstile again.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

Fred, Fred, Fred, And Alex, All Good Friends

Beetles are in my pants. I'm not in the Tour de France. No huffin' no puffin', just sitting quietly, eating a muffin. With my beetly friends.

Eben Ezer is a good friend of Winston Weezer. They go for long walks together, and, some days, chase chickens around the yard. Funny how things work out.

Ever try bathing with one hand tied behind your back? (Maybe you have a friend who can help with this.)

I had a friend who was a big-time Christian, so I FedExed over a box of lions. Let's hope he kept them fed. At least for a while.

No, Fred didn't come in today, and who is Fred? Is he even edible? (Asking for a friend.)

Whenever I get lonely I practice my farting. No friends, but boy can I toot. #HowAboutYouThen

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Will get back to you as soon as I finish picking this guy's nose.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

Tack Tax Taxes Taxi

Never try to kiss a taxi. Not all of them are as clean as they look.

Yellow taxis — why are taxis yellow? I know why I am but that's another story. Mom could tell you more, but I lost track of her shortly after she died.

Lucky for me that I'm not rich. Otherwise I'd have to pay taxes.

Also, Lucy in the sky with dynamite.

My neighbor's name is Fred. His hobby is mowing lawns at night. If your place needs it, Fred will sneak over and cut your grass. He has his own riding mover. Powered by a 350 Chevy V-8 with dual carbs and racing slicks. Wears curly pink ribbons in his hair and sings opera while at work. Sometimes drinks rye whiskey from the bottle. Works as a tax accountant during daylight hours when he's not hiding from the FBI.

I quit posting stuff on the internet when I ran out of thumb tacks. This was a while ago now. My name is Ed. I'm a survivor.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Still tickin an I keep on licken.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

Let There Be Farts

"If God didn't exist we'd have to invent him," said someone. Someone sexist, and stupid. "Would have to invent?" As if we never didn't, always, 'K?

Found the perfect house. Neighborhood's too expensive though. God lives there and everyone wants to move in next door. And there's a whole lot of howling going on every Sunday.

Saw God at the supermarket again, comparing the prices of canned beans, again. Bought the cheap ones, again. This does say a lot about how things got to be this way.

God farts a lot. Probably the beans. Always buys the cheapest ones. Always. Nobody dares to say anything. Check.

The very first time that God said "Let there be light," the universe simply farted, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Total food fight: God v Universe. I'll watch when it's on TV, if nothing else is.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Can't breathe in here. WTF?

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

If God Might Whack You, Whack Back

God, my favorite drinking buddy — buys every round, never short on cash, full of the funniest, craziest stories you've ever heard. (God's son is a real dick though. Doesn't even sip a beer every now and then. Real pruny personality. Sure, miracles, but that's mostly just showing off.)

If I were God, I really and truly would not be such a conceited dick about it.

God is kind of a dick, you know? I'm glad that my family brought me up to worship the Toad Monster, may Its Warty Self always bring us plenty of flies.

I think I'll become God after I retire. We could use some new blood in there. Also sounds like a fun part-time gig, and not hard at all. I mean — what does God even do these days? Plus, I could send you to hell just like that, any day of the week, for no reason at all. Totally kewl.

God does play golf, but does not cheat. It's too hard to get away with that when so many people are watching. God does play dice with the universe though. Nobody can watch everything out there. And you thought there was a plan? Nurk.

God has taken up target shooting. What can you say? Keep your head down.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Exorcising again. Feels good.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

Random Mothering

Mom said I could eat pig today, so I'm going for it.

Last night Mom called me a turd, when I really wanted a taxi.

Found Mom hiding in the fern again. The rustling sounds gave her away, as well as the farts.

Mom called me a poopy head. It arrived by drone in time for my birthday party.

Mom said don't play in the street, so now I only have sex there.

It's OK though — If it wasn't for Mom, I probably would never have been born.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Still wary around ferns.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals

God Again

God hasn't been talking to me a bunch lately, since about when I decided not to take things seriously any more, including whether God is talking to me much. (The advice I've been getting has been spotty at best anyhow.)

God did come by for a quiet talk last night. Things are apparently getting too confusing for a certain conservative Someone of average intelligence to cope with.

Maybe it's just me, but God hasn't been all that much fun any more, mostly like everyone you got to know before kindergarten, in my experience. As you all grow up, you grow apart, usually for good reasons — some, you realize, are giant egomaniacal assholes. Not me, I hope. I've always been small for my size.

God has been hitting the bottle again. I can smell it from over here. Expect more random crazy arm waving and lightning bolts and pronouncements about this, that, and whatever. I just ignore it, and then when God sobers up again, it all goes quiet and back to boring. Meh.

God — what a douche bag. I've known dog turds that were more fun to be around.

Looks like God changed the locks on heaven again. I like to go there every now and then, quietly enter, wander around for a bit, and leave, being grateful that I don't have to live there. Luckily I know a guy who's smarter than their staff locksmith.

 

---

Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Gonna hear back from Someone, I bet.

 

Etc...

so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals