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I have a friend. . .well--at least he thinks

  • I have a friend. . .well--at least he thinks he's my friend. . .who is always there, even when I wish he'd be somewhere else. It's hard to miss someone who is always there.
  • So, I kidnapped my friend, drove him as far into the middle of nowhere as I could, and dropped him off, blindfolded. The very next day he was in my backyard grilling wieners and
  • my balls of fish paste covered habanero peppers. They were good for the colon; or so he insisted. He learned about them in his overnight trek home from where I had abandoned him.
  • He offered me the whole plate. They looked just like you would expect balls of fish paste covered habanero peppers to look like. They tasted that way also. He was so insistent. My
  • stomach groaned, protesting the vile meal. Yet I was too far in. Have you ever had one of those moments of wondering just quite how did I get here? Well for me
  • that moment never came, so I kept on eating. Nothing was enough. I went to Dairy Queen and lay beneath the ice cream taps, leaving a $100 bill at each, for I am not a crook. Then I
  • skinny dipped in a vat of molten chocolate and became the Dairy Queen. Not daring to crack my chocolaty shell I stood & waited for my heart throb manager to open up in the morning
  • As I stood there covered in my chocolaty shell I began to realize the chemicals Dairy Queen used were great on ice cream, but not on human skin.The reaction started on my left knee
  • and worked into the major artery in my thigh. I was poisoned by the very thing I loved most. "What a cruel irony," I thought as my legs slowly melted into chocolaty puddles.
  • The latest issue of Oh Comely! was on the table, about being delighted by chocolate then disgusted. I read the magazine until my legs became gourmet chocolate bars, with cherries.

1 Comments

  1. seinundzeit Jul 15 2017 @ 07:33

    Yeah. I never promised any of you a rose garden. I can only hope a shrubbery at you.

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