Monday, July 31, 2006

Slingball Sparks

Trailer hitches don’t always have a way with putting hamsters out of work, but sometimes it really seems so especially because of the time that it did go that way. There was this hamster that was out of work largely in part due to the trailer hitch thing that I mentioned earlier. So, that leads me to believe that it must have been true at least for a little part of the clock. I don’t know if ticks get fleas, but it sure seems that way according to that pointy eyed lady that saw me in the grocery store parking lot by the dumpster looking for scraps of metal to scrape together in the wind to make sparks so I could see if sparks hurt when they land in my eye, or if they are just way way bright and only hurt because of they’re being way way bright or if their hotness is part of it too. Their hotness in my eye was different from the time I put jalepeno juice in my eye. That was hot in a different way. The different way is like when I am riding my bike and my scrotum plops out of my shorts and gets caught in my bicycle chain. It wouldn’t get so hot if I didn’t keep peddling to see how far it would stretch. The hottest it gets is when I am going really fast and my scrotum plops out on to my front tire and then I put on the brakes and the wheel rubs and rubs on me because I am squeezing so hard to stop because it is getting hot and I have to stop or else my balls will explode like the last time. Did you know that when my balls scab over, the scabs taste salty? It’s funny and it makes milk come out of my nose. One time, I laughed so hard spaghetti came out of my nose. I don’t know how that works because I hadn’t had spaghetti in a long time. I’m glad it stopped though. I was beginning to worry when it was still happening the next day.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Look What I Made

I made this out of macaroni noodles and gafilter fish. You know, if you just put your mind to it, you can do anything. Anything at all. In fact, you just pour water into this contraption and bake it at 370 degrees for two complete revolutions and you can overthrow the regime that is in power these days. Fidel Castro of Cuba had one. He put gin in it and look what he was able to acheive. OK, so don't look at it. Stop yelling at me. YOU are a Zune.

A Nightmare in the Daytime

I don't know if it is just me but sometimes my boogers seem to take over the world. I wake up and there are brown boogers all over my bed, in my hair, and mysteriously on my fingers. My fingers are absolutely covered with them. I can hardly see my thumbnails too. One day I was so startled by all the boogeriness that I jumped out of bed in the middle of the night and ran into the living room where I had killed my girlfriend for having called it a family room. I hate that when people call a living room a family room. No, wait, I killed my family in the family room for calling it the living room. Wait. I forgot. They weren't my family, they were more boogers that were tricking me into thinking that my family room was a living room. Then when I remembered that, I got scared. So I ran into the family room instead. As I ran in there I noticed that the floor was all crunchy and stuff. More brown boogers, but the hard roley poley kind that kind of hurt your feet when they get stuck in your socks. I'm not scared of those kind. I am especially not scared of them because I know they will soon be boogerdust when Satan comes to reclaim their souls. Anyhow, I got an idea when I was doing my anti-booger jumping jacks on the couch in the family room. I knew Satan wasn't coming any time soon, partly because he only comes every other Tuesday, but also because he doesn't really exist. So, I decided to wage jihad on the brown boogers just like it says to do in the Koran, the ancient book of Chinese wisdom. I folded my couch and loveseat under my arm and took them into my bedroom where they don't usually belong but this time I think they DID belong there because it was a jihad that I was in the middle of. I went in with a look of consternation (which looks almost the same as constipation. Did you ever notice that? Don't answer me because I can't hear you. I wrote this way before you read it, so I can't write back and have a conversation because I am not here now. I only used to be.) Then I used my couch to wipe up the brown boogers that were everywhere. First I wiped my fingers off in between the cushions and on the side and on the bottom and on the back of the couch. Then I rubbed the couch every place except for the ceiling. The couch was too heavy to reach the ceiling so that is what I knew I would need the loveseat for. At first I didn't know why the boogers seemed to reappear shortly after I would wipe the ceiling. Then I realized that I had to turn the fan off because they were still flinging around on the top of the walls. Finally at about 8:26 in the morning I finally got all the boogers under control finally. Then I went to the doctor and he told me I have a dingle berry problem.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Short People Squirrels

I hate it when midgets punch me in the nuts. It seems like it happens more and more these days. I like the word "midget", but I draw the line when they punch me in the nuts. My nuts aren't built for that kind of punishment. "midget" sounds like such a friendly word. It just rolls off the tongue. Even if the midgets don't like me to call them midgets, I still like to say the word a lot. If they don't want me to call them that, I wouldn't mind calling myself that, just so I could say the word "midget". But I don't call myself anything usually, so I wouldn't get to say the word "midget" very often. That makes me kind of sad. I sometimes want to cry because of it. But I really do cry for real when midgets punch me in the nuts. Sometimes I even squeal like a kindergarten girl on a playground when I get punched. I usually fold forward at the waist just before I start squealing. One time it happened and I folded over and squealed until I hit my face on the cement sidewalk. My two front top teeth sank into the cement and I got stuck. That sucked because I got stuck for quite a while. It seemed like a long time. I was there stuck like that for such a long time that I thought about chewing off my leg, but then I remembered that it wasn't my leg that was stuck.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Ultrarealism: Safeness Warning to You

Monday, July 24, 2006

Safeness Warning to You

There was this lady who wouldn’t keep her thumb out of my anus. I thought it was rude. I was just standing on line and she kept sticking her thumb in her mouth and then sticking it in my anus when I wasn’t looking. I like to keep my eyes closed when I am waiting on line because lines scare me. I am always afraid that something bad is going to happen. Well, anyway, this lady was pestering me and pestering me with the thumb in my anus. I think I am going to start wearing pants instead of a kilt. I said, “Look lady, I don’t know who you think you are, but my anus is off limits to you. Stop sticking your thumb in my anus, you anus thumb sticker inner.” I hate those anus thumb sticker innerers. They all go around thinking that they can just stick their thumb in my anus any time that they darn please. Not one of them has had a license to do that so far. It makes me mad. The other day I was reading a phone book looking for funny names, when I turned around and found three people with their thumbs in my anus. That startled me and then I got mad. I had to perform karate on them. Since then I decided that instead of wearing pants, I am going to have to wear a cork. I wrote on the cork, “Don’t put your thumb in my anus or I will perform karate on you.” It has worked so far.

Friday, July 21, 2006

A Balloon Animal With Pizza Feet

I had a headache the size of Mount Rushmore. What made it all the more worser was the fact that my head was smaller than usual that day. I don't know how it happens-sometimes I fall asleep in front of the open window and the cool winter breeze gradually shrinks my head while I am sleeping. It isn't all at once, though. I think it happens gradually over a period of a couple of days. I think it takes several successive days of cool air to do its dastardly deed. I think that is how it happens, but that's just the thing…It is harder to think when my head is smaller. That's how it gets ya. I don't notice it until people start calling me pinhead. That, and when my hat touches my shoulders makes me start thinking that it's not that the world is getting bigger, but it is my head getting smaller again. Sure I sprinkle alum on my breakfast cereal just like the average Joe. But I'm not ready to give it up. Besides, I know lots of people who have eaten alum every day for years and years and their heads are just fine. But that is beside the point. My brain isn't shrinking at the same rate. The metabolic activity of my brain, which has the highest metabolic rate of all of my organs, produces copious amounts of heat, keeping the effects of the cold wind from shrinking it as fast as my skull. That's where the problem is. The solution, of course, is a tried and true method developed before Mesopotamia was established as a civilization. My grandmother told me about it. She called it "treponig". That's the wrong way to say it, though. She said it that way because she didn't have any teeth or a nose. They shot it off when she was in a gang initiation. The real way to say it is "trephoning", not the stupid wrong way that she used to say it before she was paralyzed. Well, anyway, to get rid of a headache when you don't have aspirin or your religion forbids you to use pork products (aspirin, or acetylsalicilic acid, is made from the byproducts of partially defatted cooked pork fatty tissue, and sand, which gives it its color and flavor) you can use the little known method of trephoning. The aspirin companies don't want you to know about this powerful technique for obvious monetary reasons, so they keep it under wraps. The way you do it is when a person has a splitting headache and the option of aspirin is not available (or sometimes just because you are angry at the aspirin companies for the cover-up) you take a small chisel and a hard rubber mallet and you make a hole in the poor afflicted person's skull. The hole shouldn't be too big. Not so big that their brain can fall out when they are on a roller coaster or go flinging across the room when they say "no". Make it about the size of a silver dollar (smaller, if their brain is already the size of a silver dollar- a cat scan is helpful if you suspect this. Home cat scan kits are available. Many convert the microwave oven you already have to save money). That should relieve the pressure, which is what a headache is, when the size of the brain increases relative the capacity of the skull. If you are conservative with the size of the holes, you can add more holes later as needed. When I was growing up we used to trephon whoever needed it in the family. It was a great bonding experience and relieved many a headache of my grandmother before she became unexpectedly paralyzed for no reason at all. I learned to do it to myself when I was 12. I did it in secret in the bathroom when I was pretending to take a shower.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

The End (the end where it begins, not the ending end)

So, anyway, having securely strapped the raspberry Jell-O to the lamppost, I had to itch myself in public because it is more satisfactory to me when I do it in public. You know how when you have to itch yourself it feels so much better if you can go to the food court at the mall and itch yourself in front of an old lady with blue hair and then just go to town when she is trying to put the falafel in her ears? Well, it’s like that with me too. So after I filled my fingernails up with the crud scrapings from my pubes, I went to the bra store to wipe myself with ladies underwear and secretly blow farts in them and then put them back. It makes me thirsty so I usually just go around trying to suckle until someone lets me. It can be hard to find someone to let me suckle, so I have to plan ahead. I have to start doing it before I get too thirsty. Otherwise, I get too thirsty and I have to go all the way home to suckle from my dog. His nipple is too long and stretchy though. It only gives one good squirt of milk after about a minute of sucking hard. Then he runs dry and starts to bite me.