Everyone burps, and I want to stick your finger in a
typewriter. So yesterday, I went sky diving, except backwards. Instead
of jumping out of a plane, I jumped into the plane. And I had to stuff
my parachute into my backpack on the way up. But now I am afraid of
heights because WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE OF CANCER. Cancer the Crab. He
lives in the sky and pinches people who fly. That is why I am afraid of
heights. . . I don't want to be pinched by a constellation.
Did you hear about the bread crisis? I ran out of spit.
Most people think mermaids are all like Ariel, from The Little Mermaid. Like they're all like, "Falala, I want dinglehoppers part of your world I can't breathe and feet! End scene," but they're not. I swear, the next time I see a mermaid impersonator on the street or in my closet, trying to act like they can't breathe, I'm just gonna grab their face with a plunger and escort them to a local public restroom. I think we should all throw mermaids in water basins. Why? Because mermaids are kill you. They pass out danger like my roommates pass gas. Also they are notorious for stealing policemen from donuts and selling the sun on the black market. They tried to sell the pope once, in exchange for a golden egg, but the pope was all like, "Oh no you di'in't!" He went all Catholic-ninja on all they faces, and then, as he backed out the door, their shoes in one hand, a stray orphan in the other, he snapped his fingers and was all like, "Oh, you wanna go there? Girlfriend? You best be steppin' back, girl! Shazzam!" And then a comet came down and killed everybody.
The moral of this story is pants. There was a guy on the sidewalk, and I stepped on him because he had a cheeseburger and I wanted it. But once I had it, I threw it in the dumpster and stole his shoe. That's how the tiger got its stripes. That's also why leopards and leotards don't mix.
The mashed potatoes are just too lumpy. You gotta get up in there. Get up after the lumps. Lumps of potato.
The government has decided to start an observation tax. You have to pay money to pay attention. Calculators will eat your flesh if you don't double-tap, because everyone knows that all electronics are really the zombie invasion from Mars. . . Woah. . . Zombie aliens. I'm offering you a laser umbrella; how you can not accept? If you read a book, they will send torpedoes after you -- it's not my fault she puts shamrocks in your birthday cake. This is your life. You have to dance.
In my wallet, I carry the sea. I also gossip about beans, because if I don't, pictures of mountains will shoot lightning at things. For instance, bears, which do not ride mopeds. If a sand-shark weighs as much as a duck, is it a sand-witch? And if there are several suchlike sharks shoved between two pieces of wheat bread, does that make them sand-witch sandwiches? And which sandwitch sandwich would be capable of sanding a witch? That made too much sense. Somebody kiss me. Balcony appetite!
Three things are radioactive: scissors, combs, and men. That's why doctors hand out tiny families at the gas station every Thursday. But it's Tuesday right now. It will be Wednesday in like two minutes as of the word "Wednesday." By the way, a thing happened earlier today to meeeeee. I wanted to wash my hands in the bathroom. I turned on the faucet, and a man in a canoe came out and paddled into the toilet. I heard a flush and just like that, my new friend was gone. Funny how people enter into our lives so briefly like that. Just like that. Via indoor plumbing. The coffee panther traveled to the soup capital of the world and died a horrible death, but it's okay -- he kept his receipt.
Some people squat violently and then explode.
Did you hear about the bread crisis? I ran out of spit.
Most people think mermaids are all like Ariel, from The Little Mermaid. Like they're all like, "Falala, I want dinglehoppers part of your world I can't breathe and feet! End scene," but they're not. I swear, the next time I see a mermaid impersonator on the street or in my closet, trying to act like they can't breathe, I'm just gonna grab their face with a plunger and escort them to a local public restroom. I think we should all throw mermaids in water basins. Why? Because mermaids are kill you. They pass out danger like my roommates pass gas. Also they are notorious for stealing policemen from donuts and selling the sun on the black market. They tried to sell the pope once, in exchange for a golden egg, but the pope was all like, "Oh no you di'in't!" He went all Catholic-ninja on all they faces, and then, as he backed out the door, their shoes in one hand, a stray orphan in the other, he snapped his fingers and was all like, "Oh, you wanna go there? Girlfriend? You best be steppin' back, girl! Shazzam!" And then a comet came down and killed everybody.
The moral of this story is pants. There was a guy on the sidewalk, and I stepped on him because he had a cheeseburger and I wanted it. But once I had it, I threw it in the dumpster and stole his shoe. That's how the tiger got its stripes. That's also why leopards and leotards don't mix.
The mashed potatoes are just too lumpy. You gotta get up in there. Get up after the lumps. Lumps of potato.
The government has decided to start an observation tax. You have to pay money to pay attention. Calculators will eat your flesh if you don't double-tap, because everyone knows that all electronics are really the zombie invasion from Mars. . . Woah. . . Zombie aliens. I'm offering you a laser umbrella; how you can not accept? If you read a book, they will send torpedoes after you -- it's not my fault she puts shamrocks in your birthday cake. This is your life. You have to dance.
In my wallet, I carry the sea. I also gossip about beans, because if I don't, pictures of mountains will shoot lightning at things. For instance, bears, which do not ride mopeds. If a sand-shark weighs as much as a duck, is it a sand-witch? And if there are several suchlike sharks shoved between two pieces of wheat bread, does that make them sand-witch sandwiches? And which sandwitch sandwich would be capable of sanding a witch? That made too much sense. Somebody kiss me. Balcony appetite!
Three things are radioactive: scissors, combs, and men. That's why doctors hand out tiny families at the gas station every Thursday. But it's Tuesday right now. It will be Wednesday in like two minutes as of the word "Wednesday." By the way, a thing happened earlier today to meeeeee. I wanted to wash my hands in the bathroom. I turned on the faucet, and a man in a canoe came out and paddled into the toilet. I heard a flush and just like that, my new friend was gone. Funny how people enter into our lives so briefly like that. Just like that. Via indoor plumbing. The coffee panther traveled to the soup capital of the world and died a horrible death, but it's okay -- he kept his receipt.
Some people squat violently and then explode.
I agree... your best work by far.
ReplyDeleteIndoor plumbing. It's gonna be big.
ReplyDelete