"Wrong!" he shouted with triumph that bordered

"Wrong!" he shouted with triumph that bordered on eroticism. "You are so bloody wrong that it is putrid and pathetic. You are so wrong you will never be right again." With that he

flung himself off the cliff screaming, "I'm right! You're wrong!!!!!!". Liz and Dwayne heard a thud, asking themselves what that was and then resumed their polite conversation on

his estate taxes. Now undead, he began to crawl back to the top. The impact hadn't been kind to his skeleton or bowels, but his head landed on a coyote and was in perfect condition

- unlike that one-breasted Elizabeth Edwards blowup doll he got at the company White Elephant gift exchange. It was opened to groans of "too soon..." as no one was willing to claim

thing is, you know that you brought an explosive cheesecake for a reason. The boss was to supposed to get it, as revenge for all the low down, no good, comments regarding your

banana bread at the company party. Sure it was a little dry--but nothing a little bit of butter couldn't fix. And his accusations about your kitchen's cleanliness held no

sway with Cowboy TV, who loves you! He knows you keep your kitchen clean

but frankly he doesn't really care, he's just there to fornicate with your brain cells through fallacious reasoning and subliminal messages including naughty images of cows and

Birds. So I broke into song. "Egrets, I've had a few, but then again, two emus to mention, And more, much more than this, I did an osprey!" and then my ole blue eyes twinkled. Fin.