You're getting sleepy....sleeeeepy....sleeeeeeeeepppppyyyy....

You're getting sleepy....sleeeeepy....sleeeeeeeeepppppyyyy.... That's the last thing I remembered. I think I'm awake now. "Sure," the hypnotist whispered. "When I snap my fingers,

you will believe you are Ringo Starr. "I got blisters on me fingers!" I yelled. The band looked at me and laughed. They always laughed. It was me nose what did it. "Take two," said

Yoko Ono, because she was just a badass chick like that with lots of art sense and performance art know how.

Decided to open a franchise of flux art breakfast cafes. The Yoko Ono Grand Slam was two eggs over easy on top of a piece of cardboard which read "bacon."

The idea was to show that although some art is delicious, some artists leave you a little flat. The problem was that females were afraid of it. They rumored your chest went flat.

Fine if you had a head start with juggs that were killing your back. But those who weren't so well endowed didn't want to go any flatter. There were some outlayers, of course. Tina

Tortuga was practising yoga on the veranda when she glanced out the window at the gazebo. Little did she know that the placebo in her oatmeal wan't a placebo on this day. A day the

placebo was actually the real deal! Well actually not the real deal it was another drug. Tortuga felt the world spin around her. Her limbs feel like wet noodles and she started to

See the clockwork elves. This drug is crazzzzyyy. She thought. The word crazy lit up around her, and the elves began their clockwork dance around the lettering. Welcome to the show