What Smell?

I didn't want to say anything, but I won't.

I didn't want to say this, but I forgot what I was going to say.

I didn't want to say this, but [_message deleted by administrator_].

I didn't want to tell anyone this, but I forgot what I was going to say. Still chuckling about it though, whatever it was.

I didn't go there, and didn't do that, though I did buy the t-shirt.

I do remember the 60s. Now my high school class wants to reassemble and pretend they amounted to something.

I don't know about you but I think I look pretty good in my new squirrel suit.

I don't know what you were thinking, but based on your smell, it was obviously something stupid.

 

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Me? No, I really didn't do it.

Uh

Attila the Dentist. He's real! (Don't go there.)

Baked ham, I can tell you, has few to no conversational skills, at least the one that I ate last week, I didn't really want to, but what else could I do at that point?

Become a potato for a day. You can do it, I know you can.

Bee juice: I take no responsibility for this, not now, not ever..

Diaries on fire, and about time, too.

Frenly Denwat's School of Freestyle Tango. Recently repainted. (Smells better now.)

Fried cream, better tasting than fried ugly. For most of us, although the frightening fish of Frisbee Flats may disagree. I personally rely only on fruit-based safety techniques.

I -uh- didn't want to say this to your face, but -uh- never mind. You'll find out one way or another, eventually. And if you're lucky, it won't be too late by then either.

 

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Me? Uh...

Dogs+Electricity = Fun!

Been feeling a tad cranky lately, so I went and chased the neighbor's dog around the block a while, and bit his ass a few times and eventually got some relief. I feel good for a change.

Dog festering. Nothing unusual there. Just put a bandage on it and come back next year.

I had a chili dog today, for a while, until it ran away with a bowl of munch nuggets.

It looks like another big soccer championship is in progress. They seem to have one of these every day of the week — guys running around and doing a lot of kicking. They all used to have dogs, but balls are more popular in the modern age. So now they kick their balls.

What do dog catchers do with the dogs they catch, and why are there no cat catchers? There has to be demand. Grab a pussy and give it some love rubs, for crying out loud. At least once in your life.

So the power is off again, and just as I was about to electrocute the neighbor's dog too. Go figure. No fun around here, so I guess I'll just have to unleash the alligators instead. Lesson for life there — Always have a backup. (And don't fucking bark all night either.)

 

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Me? Just exploring hobby options.

House Music

They got this music playing where I eat lunch. Slows me down. Keeps knocking me out of my chair. Yes, it's loud, but it's free, for as much as I can stand.

Cheez Whiz ain't my idea of a great musical instrument but I guess I really need to wait until I hear the whole orchestra before making a final decision.

Let's set everyone to music. Gravy music, cholesterol music, plain water music. Whatever — let's just get on it.

I never listen to music any more, since they stopped putting it in Cracker Jack boxes, around 1953 or so.

I never listen to music unless I find some in my pocket, mixed in with the lint.

I never listen to music unless I happen to get some as change.

 

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Me? Patiently listening quietly for the mouse flutes.

Flying The Thursday Flag

I saw Dad on Thursday. He was coming out of a church, riding on someone's coffin. He just can't get enough of that recently-post-dead stuff. Maybe they'll bury him deeper this time.

Due to climate change I'm no longer wearing clothes, except Tuesdays and Thursdays, if it's snowing somewhere.

Every other Thursday afternoon something happens. I personally don't get out much, but have been informed about this by those in the know.

Harmless Thursdays were invented by Harmony Handles and her alter egret, Harmony Honkweezer. I don't know the rest of the story but it's time for lunch anyway, so just drop it, OK?

I got attacked by rats yesterday, which was a bit off. They usually do this only on alternate Thursdays in July in years divisible by 437, so something weird is definitely going on around here.

I really don't have much use for Thursdays any more, so I've decided to sell all of mine, but I can't seem to find the right category on Craigslist. Any suggestions out there?

 

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Me? Having less fun than I expected to.

Wally Bird

If you see a guy put both of his hands over the top of his head, it might be because he forgot his hat, or maybe he's expecting some incoming bird poop. Or both, I guess. Could happen.

Captain Attention Deficit & Hyperactivity Disorder was distracted by a fly and took off after it. They're now engaged in a dogfight over Philadelphia.

Caught a fly in my soup, taking a poop, over the side of his sloop. That's it — after today I'm never eating here again. (Little fucker wasn't even wearing a Coast Guard approved life jacket.)

If pigs could fly, I'd never buy a house near the airport, but if hamsters could fly, I'd start my own air force. Because fun!

Flightless Farnsworth, the Man With No Aeroplane. Appearing by appointment only. (Thursdays.)

To demonstrate the Coriolis effect, I loosened all my flaps and then spun around like crazy. And then I forget what came next but it was probably pretty cool.

 

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Me? Keeping my flaps polished from here on out.

Butt End Musings

At this very moment, snow is falling somewhere, but my underwear is staying up.

Harvey Wishbone and his Dancing Memorabilia. I had a dream about this once.

Has anyone ever attended a 100th high school reunion? I think I'm going to miss mine. Prior engagement, and probably some decay going on about then too.

I guess I'm not sure how you feel about all of this, but I'm not required to care, so just sit down and have a grape. The first one is on us.

I had a dream last night, but it got away. Ran under the bed somewhere and I can't find it now. I do still hear it squeaking from time to time though, softly. So softly.

I had my butt removed late last week. I don't remember why. Feels weird, but then it always did, which might be why I had it removed.

 

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Me? I don't always talk this way. Sometimes it's through my nose. Want to come and watch?

Hey Turd Brain

I was born an only child and hope to die that way, unless other arrangements can be secured. Of course, a lot depends on how my sister is feeling then.

My sister had a doll. Dad ran over it. #AbruptStoryCollection

I've never wanted to be a walrus, unlike my sister, but we're distinctly different people, and she floats better. Or maybe it's because she farts more.

Got a call from my sister last night. She's on Mars — says the bus service is terrible so you're stuck either walking everywhere, or you have to buy a car, and the shipping fees from earth are totally crazy. So, good place to avoid, at least for now.

My sister came over last night. "Hey, turd brain", she said, affectionately, while shooting snotballs at me with a rubber band. She does that to catch my attention, but it's getting kind of old. She's 46 this week.

My sister reports being harassed by a local crevasse. Says she can hardly get out the door anymore without it chasing her around. I thought maybe she should get a dog. The world will be a better place when more dogs disappear down giant ice cracks. Until then, a crevasse makes a dandy place to dump garbage and dispose of grass clippings and unwelcome relatives, which is one seriously good reason why I never visit her anymore. Too tempting, for all of us, in so many ways.

 

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Me? I'm not really like that. I'm like other stuff. Like chocolate. I'm like chocolate a lot. Mmmmm.

Face Plant Now For Fun Fall Harvests

What sort of avocado has hair on it? One may have walked past here, earlier. We'll investigate the surveillance videos and get back to you once we have an idea. Maybe after lunch. Next year sometime.

What kind of world would it be like, you might wonder, if horses had two legs? Well, they do. They have two legs and also spares for when those first ones go flat. In case you never thought of it that way before.

Wendert Fimml was my 7th grade spatula-handling coach. Fell into the batter one day and got made into a waffle. Somewhat greasy, we all thought, but he was always like that anyway.

Well, I'm learning to compromise. If I do have to pay rent, then I guess I have to do it with money too. But it's still annoying.

Yes, it is that time of the year again. I'm beginning to sprout new buds and turn green all over.

I washed my wombat again. At least that's out of the way for another year, and one of us is actually happy about it.

 

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Me? Too busy dreaming to end my nap yet. So buzz off, 'K?