she made my evening alone at home more bearable.

she made my evening alone at home more bearable. Just thinking, no fantasizing about her made my lonely life not so bad. I would lie in bed and think of..

lying in bed. Just chilling out and daydreaming about chilling out. I was trying to slow my metabolism to the rate of the continental shift so that I could

drift off to tectonic nirvana. Just then a mild rumbling set in and I farted. Well, that really ruined the attempt at solemn meditation. I rolled out of bed and into a pile of

sandalwood incense and candles I had lit to give my hut some ambiance, and that is why I ran screaming in flames through the commune. By the time they put me out I had no body hair

. "Like whoa, dude you smell like burnt sprouts." Just what needed, more advice from Mr. Natural. I wrapped myself in a hemp poncho to hide my nakedness. It was a scratchy as hell,

and really only covered my torso. The result was that Mr. Johnson and the twins were just dangling out there and I could feel a powerful rash forming on my chest and back. I tried

grabbing Mr. Johnson to shake some sense into him, but he wouldn't respond. If Mr. Johnson didn't get up soon, I'd be fired for sure. Desperately, I reached into my backpack

and pulled out part of Mrs. Johnson. The details of exactly which part elude me, suffice to say that it was one of the more... "well used" areas. The prettier pieces had all been

artfully packed into his famous Johnson Sausage. With the bloodier part of his day's business complete, he retired to the kitchen to perfect

his new jambalaya recipe. It was so much better with his new sausage, he mused, chomping a Johnson as he stirred the pot. Now what to do with the bodies ...