Friday, October 24, 2008

WHo is there?

I awoke to a strange and fowl voice speaking in mild latin saying "bumble bee tuna, bumble bee tuna. Much to my dismay I could not gather my thoughts of who it could be. The voice spoke so commandingly in Uraguain and a touch of Czechloslavakian. I was able to make out some of the translation as I conjured up some sort of meal that most people call brunchfast or lupper. The voice was basically trying to get me to pay some past due bill for when I purchased a faulty clothes hanger factory. Come to find out the voice was my pituitary gland trying to impersonate a telemarketer selling barn shingles made entirely of chewed up peanut hulls.

word of the weird
stizapolis III Jr part 4 esquire senoir

1 comments:

kevin the jerk said...

Man, I hate it when those clothes hangers go all factorial on you. Could it be that your intuition of cupping tires might be faulty or whimsical? Grapes are neat-o and artful.