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WHERES MY PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY?

  • WHERES MY PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY?
  • "Right here dumbass!" The sandwich on the cutting board said. "Now cut me in half and share me with someone you love." The sandwich laughed and laughed, but it was
  • soon silenced by a withering glare from the glass of milk. "You're a fool, Sandwich," the milk spluttered. "Being eaten by that cretin won't give you immortality. Run now while yo
  • u still can!" The Sandwich snorted, pickles flying out from under his bread. "If you recall, Milk," he chuckled. "I don't have legs! I wouldn't be able to run if I wanted to!" He
  • sobbed. "Get up and run," a glowing heat lamp above him commanded ominously. "or be eaten." The sandwich struggled. Then jamming two french fries into his torso he hot fired it out
  • of there in a hurry. Now he was a ham sandwich on the lam. Where could he go? Whom could he trust? He, so delicious, had only one choice: find Dick Gregory, who was fasting for
  • all the wrong reasons. All the peaceful and not-so-peaceful protests of the 60s and 70s did little or nothing to improve race relations. Dick Gregory should take out the president
  • on a date. Dick could explain all the problems and maybe bridge the racial gap, whilst also nurturing a blossoming relationship. The President accepted his date offer and they went
  • To sit on the library roof to watch Squawker and his new girlfriend start a family. Where was Nona? Last year she had only two eyases. Something wrong with that so this was
  • a bit of a problem. "Aw, screw it!" I said to Squawkers, who appeared quite dejected. "Here. Forget about Nona! Have a beer with me & let's watch the pigeons." Birds of a feather.

3 Comments

  1. PurpleProf Mar 05 2017 @ 22:32

    What the...???

  2. Jimbeau Mar 05 2017 @ 23:17

    Literary Insanity (Hey...that's a great name for a writing group...or a folk band)...that's what that is!

  3. Rebbie Mar 06 2017 @ 12:38

    This took a little trip somewhere along the way.

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