"Okay, okay, I'll do this just once, and

"Okay, okay, I'll do this just once, and then it is off to bed." The toddler nodded her head vigorously. He brought out the trampoline, the kazoo, and the ocelot.

"What ever happened to a Curious George story before bedtime?" he thought as he hopped on one leg on the trampoline playing Dixie on the kazoo holding a hula hoop for the Ocelot

Insurance agent. His Ocelot was high performance and he needed the extra security. But then he realized the insurance agent was his highschool best friend. "Rick?" He was a clown

and an ass. He was an assclown. Just like in highschool. Guy hadn't changed a bit. Not the kind of person you'd want to trust with responsibility. But he needed insurance and Rick

needed money fast, and had the capability to insure. He reasoned that the fellow was so incompetent that whatever he got insured for would likely have killed him and no money

enamored with cheap gin and expensive tonic. His magenta fedora pulled low, he scuttled about the dock, waiting to see if Gilligan would be sailing by anytime soon. The ocean bre

-saola was a bit salty, and the Skipper regretted having prepared Mr. Howell this way. What was he going to serve to the next wacky mainlander to visit? Maybe Mrs. Howell will

do nicely as a dessert. The skipper considered making a pudding but had forgotten a vital ingredient. The skipper just loved surprising the mainlanders and was a very good host.

So he picked up what he'd learned in Italy and found the smelliest sun-dried fish and made a giant effing cake out of it. The mainlanders tried to be polite and ate his dessert.