Cleaning out my "Junk" mailbox, my eyes were

  • Cleaning out my "Junk" mailbox, my eyes were drawn to the ad for Swedish Penis Enlarging cream. If only I was Swedish..
  • I could eat meatballs whenever I wanted. I'm partial to the ones from IKEA, but really I don't discriminate against
  • partially hydrogenated "meats" made from glued-together wood shavings. That is how they make everything there, right?
  • I know the beavers love that shit, but what the hell am I supposed to do?
  • Use my freakin' teeth? I've always wanted to be a shaman but I never had
  • the crazy eyes. So instead I became a Wall St.
  • thief, but most people knew me as a hedge fund manager for Goldman Sachs. I put on some Coldplay and proceeded to
  • the kitchen to snatch me a cold one. But what I found upon opening the old Fridgedair was nothing more than
  • half a 40oz and a McRib. Those guys must really
  • dream up these meal combos in a smokey room somewhere. The ground bacon and grape jelly had been his favorite but
  • recently he had been eating the banana mustard combination. The problem was that banana season only
  • stretched on and on, so when he was ready for a change, chocolate cherry, say, he had a banana volume problem to address
  • -- such were the travails of the confectioner's son. It made no sense sometimes, and cream -- whipped, folded, curdled,
  • clotted or soured -- was the source of both his agony and his ecstasy. But forgetting that for a brief moment, he took
  • a swig of the rancid milk, relishing in the chunky texture as it slid
  • down his throat. The taste of the rancid goodness quenched a lot of his fears about his life, but now he felt
  • like a new man. He got up, ran maniacally down the street, and screamed...... "I am the one your mother warned you about." "Shut up"..... someone yelled from behind him. He turned
  • and there behind him was a replica of himself, but it didn't have any eyes, just a big mouth with wide spread lips and yellowing teeth. Was he catching up with himself, or falling
  • behind his CloneTrooper. His wife grabbed his arm, and dragged him to the kitchen. "Bitch! Make me a
  • sandwich!" She glared at him and pushed him roughly against the wall. "That's not happening." She replied quietly and left.


  1. geoff Nov 23 2010 @ 09:55

    Nice finish, fuffy_frog!

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