atheists' are

atheists' are

intelligent

hi im ur neighborliy hood rat

So I gathered.

I got on my knees with the pooper scooper. "Sorry about Sparky," I said, removing the links from the Trivial Pursuit board. "One more... got it. Good as new. So whose turn is it?"

"Turn?" Belinda stood up defiantly. "Turn?" She raised her laminated eyebrows. Sparky cowered behind the Wooden Indian. Belinda was about to have one of her episodes. Foam

dribbled down her exactly cubic breasts. When she got like this we liked to call her Rabelinda. As in rabid. It's a sort of a portmanteau, you see. Port on the mantle was useful to

Which doesn't make a lick of sense, but neither would you after finishing off that bottle of port. Hic!

So they dragged him to the drunk tank where he spent the night. He was rescued from starvation by the sheriff's offer of breakfast, and lived merrily (hic!) ever after.