On a dark stormy night. There was a pug stuck to my neck.
The End
Friday, December 11, 2015
Cups
Posted by Fat Shark at 6:09 PM 1 comments
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Granules of spam
"Oh, but I have a habitual translator," said the unruly platypus. I didn't understand what he meant at first, because of the irritability of his hummus. All of a sudden, the nares came to fruition, and I weeded the garden. Once the pustules were vanquished, there was nothing standing in the way of Captain Crunch dominating the racquetball court. Do you have the keys to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang?
Posted by Unknown at 12:40 PM 3 comments
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Protracting the Spatula
In recent visits to purchase kelp flavored apple sauce, I came across a spatula that seemed to shrink when I gazed upon it. We shall not be able to overcome the indescribable feeling that comes with tiny, minute, pancake flippers which give way to temptation. Shun them I suppose with great resistance.
Posted by Fat Shark at 11:57 AM 0 comments
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
cable ties are on my ankle
Collusion is a part of my genetic makeup. My manual transmission is pulling these feelings out of me. Don't you think I should partake in such tomfoolery? I can't stand the frightening nature of parameters. Oh, and by the way, if you see me at the partridge family reunion festival, be sure to remind me of my inclination to proliferate my ambulance.
Posted by Unknown at 11:14 AM 1 comments
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Shunt resistors in Hazzard County
I bet you wonder what this means. While watching dukes of hazzard on my couch something poked me in my leg when I sat down. To my surprise it was my shunt resistor that had been so close to my heart for years. After January she disappeared from my life. We watched dukes of hazzard together for a solid week catching up on old times. I then pretended that my newly found shunt resistor made a great partner in viewing re-runs of the dukes (me and my resistor) in hazzard county.
Posted by Fat Shark at 4:35 PM 0 comments
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Tortoises and snacks
Somebody said I should write about my experience with the carpal tunnel gnomes. "Somebody" is a euphemism for antelope ticks. So here goes.
I went to the rolling pin for some tubular advice. He/she said my hombre was justified in rapping about granules. I don't know whether I took offense, or if I was stupendous. Either way, that whatchamacallit sent me down to the river to see if there were any underwater globes to be had. There I encountered the carpal tunnel gnomes of yesteryear. They keeled over in dismay when I told them of my fascination with horticulture. Although they didn't have much to say, they did entertain me to the point of undercooking my deer sausage.
Posted by Unknown at 11:37 AM 0 comments
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Yelping for cookies
Over there is my panda bear shaped grape soda. I procured it from the hospital when Tomathy was there next week with an appendix bypass interruption. Don't think the attending prosthetic didn't notice my be-gloved-ness, or the jamboree infestation in my Pinto. Undoing mass migration is the business I hope to be in when I graduate from the state college of Umbro shorts. Or there may be snapping pigeons on the Phil Collins statue on the square in Madagascar. Photo finishes are a hobby of mine, since I ate that camera a few tape guns back. I once doodled a doodle of noodles when I was huffing arctic sea turtles. Don't judge me by my overreaching habits, says the orbital bone infection.
Posted by Unknown at 8:51 AM 0 comments