I Am So Spumphy... Bibliobibuli

Betty White just took residence inside my freezer. I am so confused right now. Even more flatulent, a gnome has my credit card. Good thing I made sure it was laced with anthrax. My taxi driver is an arachibutyrophobic man, because his name is Mary. His father before him was named Mary, his father before him was named Mary, and his father before him was named Craig. You know that's right. Whenever I need a ride, I just hail Mary. BOOM!

I'm eatin' your grapes, bro! You don't just go to the blue kitchen and get whatever you want. It's a competition, you silly cow! Beep. Beep.

I'm sure you are wondering how my day went because how could you not be. Right? Right. Calm down, mental patients and fangirls (which are basically the same thing). I was talking to my floorboards when my cousin frowned at my ear and demanded I undress that flat-screen TV. I said no, and he said, "And have you noticed how weird Dr. Pepper tastes? I mean its good. But if you step back and think about it, it has a really weird taste. Its like....spumphy." He's right. I should know. I am so spumphy. You have no idea. Guess what? Last night, I got your grasshopper a ticket to watch the jealousy comet. It will be a blastocyte. Jiggletastic plastic muggle. Finish your plate.

Two words: blophocordingtons.

I like parentheses (well, most parentheses (also, the singular form of that word (which is parentheses) is parenthesis (you'd be surprised (most people are) how many people don't know that (it's a lot (not, like, including the people that don't speak English, though (I don't mean that as a racist statement, of course (not to assume you could already tell (some people probably couldn't (not to imply that you are stupid (although some people really are (that was not intended to make fun of mentally challenged people, of course)))))))(speaking of a lot, there are a lot of parentheses here (way too many, if you ask me (not to say I won't be making more (I am definitely going to make more (I can't stop (Seriously, I can't ((((((((WE HAVE TO GO DEEPER)))))))))))))))))).

Excuse me. I burped. Okay. Okay. Seriously. Like, seriously. Seriously. Why is there a dead man on this table? I wanted a poptart. You stupid waiter. Go wait over there, and think about what you haven't done. Oh no! The poolice! I must absquatulate!

I'm so tired I think I will become a puddle. Take this wrench and fix the sun so it can't move. Or have babies. Large, gaseous, flaming babies. I think we already have those here, actually. No. No. NEVERMIND! It's milk. Bibliobibuli! Those read too much. A hubble bubble is a simple form of the hookah, which, frankly, is nothing but a frivolous boondoogle. Don't eat the crumbly hodgepodge; it's going to jugulate you.

I took a gold-plated test and sold it. I didn't pass, but I got like a hundred dollars. Last time I saw you, Ronald Reagan was trying to scream at about half of something. I don't know what. Nobody knows. . . The trouble I've seen. But! But! Butt! Butte! Olaf! I wasn't trying to commit manslaughter! Oh wait yes I was. Is that an "I ♥ That Guy's Pancreas" T-shirt? I have one just like it...Let's get married.

Evil lipstick makes you kiss everything and everyone. Even government spies, especially when they are going undercover as cross-dressing earwax. That's why I never wear make-up. Also, I am not a lady. I'm a chemist who likes dropping cheese into acid, or at least swan-diving into the koolaid because they wouldn't let me ride the escalator during a rock slide. I hate going home because it's full of talkative soap and garrulous disinfectant. The bubbles contain tiny fairies that die if you poke them with your nose.

Your Honor, I strongly suggest these lawyers be hobbled.

Lumpy

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Work It, Because Wagons

I eat out of an exhaust pipe. Let's all swim giddily in raw sewage. I love it. I LOVE IT. Who do you want me to shampoo? That guy in the elevator? I hate that guy. He didn't just fall off the wagon. He jumped off he wagon, with both feet, and then he pushed the wagon off a cliff. Worst pioneer ever.

It was the bottom of the ninth, I was facing a seven-ten split, and my racket was completely broken... and on fire. I swung my golf-club and sent the football flying, but then the goalie jumped up toward it! An instant later, the goalie fell to the court, because gravity was working that day, and he wept because he did not have the football. Nay, the precious ball had got caught on midair. Not in midair. On it. Things typically do not snag on air, so it took a whole day for the referees to figure out how to dislodge the football from the surrounding oxygen, nitrogen, and the small percentage of carbon dioxide.

That, of course, has nothing to do with sports. I was speaking in code. Everything that contained a letter means "banana." I still can't read.

 I'm sure you're wondering what I'm doing with this jackhammer. Well, so am I. Come to think of it, where am I? When am I? Why am I? Ooh, deep. You cannot fathom the fathoms of the Ocean of Mashed Potatoes. But you can eat them. Unfortunately, you lack both a spoon and a consciousness. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sir. And take your elderly dwarves with you. They smell as if they've been frolicking in meadows of donkey hair.

Earlier today, I saw a guy planking on somebody's car. The owner of said car walked up and demanded he leave, but all he did was toot and giggle in Swahili. I think he just wanted a cup of Joe, who unfortunately wasn't around at the time. On the other hand, it never would have worked out anyway, since Joe is usually not made of liquid. So, the car's owner simply conceded, and by that I mean he used a sponge mop to push the foreign guy off his car, and then he drove away. I was going to help the foreign guy stand up, but I noticed I had a bucket of popcorn in my hand, so I just threw it at him and left.

Four hours and sixty minutes later, I had a conversation with

Jack Sparrow: Flirp, you need to get a job.

Flirp: What is a job?

Jack Sparrow: It is a thing you should get.

Flirp: Oh. Okay...What do I do once I get it?

Jack Sparrow: Work it.

I found a toupeé in my ear.

Naked Ice Cream

I met a kangaroo that quickly became a speed-bump. It's just impossible to climb an ellipsis. Do not cross that median; you are on the roof. Don't you understand? If so, what exactly do you stand under? Is it a bridge? 'Cause I hear there are trolls under those things. Are you a troll? Do you eat riddles? Do you know any children? Are you particularly fat? I see. With both eyes. That's exactly why the dwarf-lady kept trying to extinguish a fire that didn't exist. That poor oyster...

I am trying to run away from the poolice! Poo!

That little flea really wants to walk on the river, but it would need a crutch, and I just don't have a hospital in my pocket. At least not today. Yesterday was a different story. That was the day I spent screaming at camels, which, incidentally, frightened all of the children at the petting zoo. The headlines read, "I HAVE A TERRIBLE FEVER AND EVERYTHING ITCHES" but I don't know why. It's about time my wallet got some publicity. When toys go to school, it means the students have planted decoys, and the Great Revolution has begun. It involves everyone in the world spinning around aimlessly for absolutely no reason.

Be careful about the bomb. It's on fire. Much like this teddy bear. Yes, I know I am getting third degree burns by holding it in my bear hands, which are not actually attached to my body...which is also on fire. I like to think of it as I am just really hot. All the chicks dig it, albeit only because they are trying to put out the fire using only shovels and dirt. I don't really know where they came from. I am in a locked room with no windows or doors. That is to say that I didn't bring any doors or windows with me to this locked room. All I brought was a bomb, a teddy bear, some bear hands, and lots of shovels.

You can pick any lock at a locksmith's shop. You just point at the lock and say "That one." Oh dear. Would you like these leftover map-crumbs? They're delicious. I like the sky. It snows on bones. Which I find humerus. All mail men are secretly Zeus. You can tell because they shoot lightning at everything. Femail men are an entirely different story, much like yesterday. I stuck a caterpillar in a padlock and watched the magic happen. Most of the time, all that happens is a tiny golfer made a hole in one even though he was standing inside a tulip. He put crisps in my lemonade! POR QUOI???

 I ate your clothes, ice cream. Now you're naked!!!

So, like, I so like your soul, Ike. Also your name is funny, but then again so is the rest of you. I mean, what kind of person looks at a person's toes and goes, "...Tourists?" Well, I suppose I can't complain about Ike's weird. I have weird too. Just a moment ago, I went to a fast-food restaurant with my friends. We had an entire hour's worth of conversation in only three minutes, because we were driving through the drive thru (driver thrus can't spell). Plus, when we got our food, I stuck my face in the bag and whispered "What is your name??"

I just... I want a full-body tattoo of myself.

Sit On An Elderly

The marshmallow is actually caressing my face. What a pleasant surprise. Let us frolic. Through the meadow! But quickly, for the meadow is on fire. Once, after first grade, when everybody was trying to kiss the fire alarm at the same time, my Spanish teacher burst from a manhole and began to tango with a conveniently located homeless person. In response, we all swiveled our hips in unison. To this day, I cannot understand basic mathematics. Fortunately, I've got this here ticket to a toast-petting competition. The grand prize is polio.

I met a girl once, and I decided she was probably female. She asked me politely, "How are you today, Mr. Reagan?" and I said "Viscous." She giggled, and I threw a chair into the basement, where said chair proceeded to sit on an elderly. Apparently, that is not how chairs work. Also, that girl is still female! She's a business associate; she likes to associate businesses with things. I know this because we ate lunch together. She glanced at a bottle of ketchup and began to flail her arms in the air, wildly. "DEPENDS!" she exclaimed. I laughed and jumped into the window, which was apparently bulletproof and also human-proof. It doesn't matter how many times you shoot a human out of a cannon and into that window -- the glass will remain intact. That's because it's made of swag.

Let's be honest. Telling someone that your favorite song is "Pants on the Ground" will probably give off the wrong impression. Now let's be dishonest! Barbara Streisand.

In some cultures, a monkey's brain is considered a delicacy. That means it's delicate. You can't touch it or it will break, much like the world record for rolling around in puddles of Welch's grape juice. I drink beverages a lot, in a glass, with ice, except instead of ice, I use croutons. Sometimes I throw magazines at patients lounging in the waiting room, and then I hide under the chairs conspicuously. The staff has called the mental health department eighteen times in the past three minutes -- they won't pick up because they are too busy texting their girlfriend. Yes. Just one.

I know how gum works.

I ran around Europe with a moldy swastika, which was really a living organism in its own right, much like my refrigerator. Peasants protested the monarchy because apparently they weren't allowed to eat cake. I would tell someone to let them, but I have a strange feeling I'd end up losing my head. Mimes have French accents when they don't speak.

I think it was like, 1912 when I flipped a light-switch and accidentally sank the Titanic. My bad. It wasn't the light-switch I thought it was. It looked exactly the same, except the words "Prankster Central" were printed across the top. I don't get it. On the bright side, the captain got blamed for it, mostly, because I loaned him a jug full of compact discs. I video taped doctored footage of somebody filming something, and he loved it so much that he showed his wife a picture of a whisk. That's not totally my fault, although I am offering free autographs in the lobby, plus a complimentary subpoena.

I refuse to wear those fabulous pumps.