Just in case anyone is wondering, the story thus far is as follows:
Once the guard dog had eaten plenty of blue oysters, it fell over. Consequently, my yard smelled like seafood. “Ew,” sneered Anubis, “Why?” There was no butter to trip the light-sensitive geekazoid while I continued running around in this anti-gravity Catamarinian wishing well. Anubis could eat more soy buggers than a starved author. Thor thought about pruning monkeys relativity Gotterdammerrung-style. But Loki was suspicious. Why monkeykind allowed giraffes to eat crabs this week was anyone’s guess. Thirteen spots ate 53 potatoes and rabbit stew. Legs dangle from rudimentary wooden posts which belong to a virtual genius without peer review peek obsequiously from beneath the elevator. Upon St. Patrick’s Day three blind bananas followed a witch called Brigit Bardou. They called Walmart in frustration from John’s insistent urgins. Chthonic imagery haunts Zeus even though Bob refuses responsibility. Marvin Migglehoff dances every other Thursday under
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