"How can I choose." I thought to myself. Barack Obama look alike or the grey fox veteran. I have so much to give, but I need something substantial in return. I looked over at the hottie grey fox. Looking at him made me want to get in the ocean and just swim to the ends of the earth for him. And then I heard the clucking of chicken. I walked over to the squirming creature and knelt down to it's side. I whispered seductively, "You're tonight's dinner". The lobster replied. "Sure, you talk big with my claws banded, but I got friends see?" I heard a multitude of soft clickings behind me. "Tell us where you want him, Sandy," yodeled the biggest lobster at the front of the pack. Sandy the lobster's eye antennae took on a menacing shape. "Throw him in Mrs. Schmidt's third grade remedial reading class!" growled Sandy the lobster. The other lobsters laughed as they dragged the poor schmuck to the elementary school. He didn't mind getting stuck in remedial reading so much; it was Mrs. Schmidt's creepy finger things.She didn't have proper lobster claws, and she didn't even have feelers how was he sposed to Know how to deal with it. His lobster crackers barely scratched the surface of the truth when it came to be confession time. Lobsters were honest creatures and looked out for less fortunate so that they could make them even less fortunate by stealing their dirty laundry to set up as apartments for their lobster mistresses. Your SpongeBob Speedo was popu lar, but judges couldn’t pick a winner in the intimate apparel category among the Speedo, a lacy Squidward brassiere, or a Sandy Cheeks thong. Patrick Star pasties were runner-up.



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