"I'm a fountain of blood, in the shape of

"I'm a fountain of blood, in the shape of a girl!' screamed Björk. "All is full of love! My name's Isobel!" This was the worst yet - nothing could contain her as she raved and

painted Icelandic landscapes onto goatskin canvases with a brush made from her "forest hairs" and a palette comprised of her excrement. Guntaar sighed heavily. "Bjork, be-bee," he

fjorded nordically. "Oh, ååååh. Rød grød med fløde." Those words of wisdom imparted to the polar bears, Guntaar went in search of some ludfisk. However, he only found

saippuakala. He sopaed himself down with it and then entered a laplander hut. A heavyset sami was initially startled from her yearly bath, but after she got a whiff of

the Jiffy Pop from downstairs, he realized it was now or never. He barely toweled off and stepped on the soap. He slid across the hall and launched down the stairs right into

a stray roller skate. He slid across the entry way on the floor runner and popped outside. His bath towel caught on the door, slamming it shut. The marching band was

coming towards him playing La Vida Loca. He looked down & his genitals turned into a grape vine whose tendrils then strangled him. That's when he woke up. His psychiatrist said "Hm

hm hm hu ha ha HA HAHAHAHAA!!" Realizing that the psychiatrist seemed to have a few issues himself, he shook the horrid nightmare from his mind and backed slowly toward the office

."Where do you think you're going?" she asked. "You know you still have unfinished business here." I gulped & fell backwards. I don't remember anything else after that. Help me.