"Dad, I have something to tell you--" I began.

"Dad, I have something to tell you--" I began. I heard the seatbelt click and the car door open. I looked over to see him roll out of the car at 65 miles an hour.
I did the math in my head. It worked out to about 105 kilometers per hour, which was an awfully fast pace for dad to be tumbling down the highway, considering how weak he was from
his forced conversion to the Metric System. When the Gram Negatives fled, our village had been overrun and the only choice was convert or die. Dad resisted and was thrown from the
silly little jelly beans that jump'd and sang. Instantly i turned on the Master System and emulated the AVGN. After that i used my hook and go to the next house of silly kids. I
hate silly kids, what I like are really serious kids. There was this one kid, he was like a 4 year old Insurance Agent. He was cool. I wished he was my kid, my kids are so silly
, they stick things up their noses and run poop on the walls. And that's without giving them any sugar. If one of them gets a jar open, it's the end of the world. Not this kid, he
kept his investment portfolio close at his side, away from the other special kids. His futeristic jumpsuit also set little Qbert apart. What he didn't know was the other kids were
Afraid. Verrry afraid. They might come closer, talk a little, if he wasn't so
tightlipped. But what he really feared was that they'd see his mouth had been zippered shut by a fashion witch. Everyone knew that the only way to free someone from this curse was
wrap one Manolo Blahnik stiletto in silk charmeuse and torch it on the first day of NY Fashion Week. They were 1 day late and tho’ the zipper vanished, he was left with man boobs.

Started: 2011-04-24 13:58:07
Finished: 2012-02-25 17:10:55

0 Comments

Want to leave a comment?