posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off it's hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice
Posts: 1466 | Registered: Jan 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off it's hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice, sensing that they
Posts: 1215 | Registered: Apr 2005
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice, sensing that they were about to be
Posts: 834 | Registered: Jun 2005
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice, correctly sensing that they were about to be
Posts: 9 | Registered: Jan 2007
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached.
Posts: 684 | Registered: Jun 2002
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of
Posts: 9 | Registered: Jan 2007
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made
Posts: 993 | Registered: Jul 2006
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a
Posts: 2437 | Registered: Apr 2005
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking
Posts: 1215 | Registered: Apr 2005
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Posts: 684 | Registered: Jun 2002
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by
Posts: 993 | Registered: Jul 2006
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew
Posts: 527 | Registered: Aug 2004
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a
Posts: 684 | Registered: Jun 2002
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time
Posts: 993 | Registered: Jul 2006
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitake
Posts: 527 | Registered: Aug 2004
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posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull
Posts: 993 | Registered: Jul 2006
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posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicououred confetti
Posts: 243 | Registered: Aug 2005
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicououred confetti at his face.
Posts: 1594 | Registered: Apr 2006
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped harold, pointing
Posts: 213 | Registered: Jan 2007
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posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped harold, pointing at the purple
Posts: 38 | Registered: Nov 2006
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped harold, pointing at the purple, evil telekinetic fruitcake.
Posts: 438 | Registered: May 2006
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posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped Harold, pointing at the purple, evil telekinetic fruitcake. He wiped at
Posts: 1215 | Registered: Apr 2005
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped Harold, pointing at the purple, evil telekinetic fruitcake. He wiped at his forehead after
Posts: 2054 | Registered: Nov 2005
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posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped Harold, pointing at the purple, evil telekinetic fruitcake. He wiped at his forehead after missing his chin.
Posts: 5957 | Registered: Oct 2001
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posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped Harold, pointing at the purple, evil telekinetic fruitcake. He wiped at his forehead after missing his chin. Seeing this, the
Posts: 2437 | Registered: Apr 2005
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me!" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it burped, and he said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped Harold, pointing at the purple, evil telekinetic fruitcake. He wiped at his forehead after missing his chin. Seeing this, the
(aside: that sentence has been bothering me for three pages...why would the monkey call him a monolith worshipping ape??!?)
Posts: 3516 | Registered: Sep 2002
| IP: Logged |
quote:Originally posted by Leonide: (aside: that sentence has been bothering me for three pages...why would the monkey call him a monolith worshipping ape??!?)
That's probably a reference to 2001: A Space Odyssey, where the apelike ancestors of humans were taught tool use and other such skills by the monolith in Africa.
Posts: 2437 | Registered: Apr 2005
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posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me!" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it burped, and he said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped Harold, pointing at the purple, evil telekinetic fruitcake. He wiped at his forehead after missing his chin. Seeing this, the intruders began to
(How come the monkey replied if Harold is now the husband?)
Posts: 2054 | Registered: Nov 2005
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me!" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it burped, and he said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped Harold, pointing at the purple, evil telekinetic fruitcake. He wiped at his forehead after missing his chin. Seeing this, the intruders began to giggle like women.
(Props to the Women thread )
Posts: 5957 | Registered: Oct 2001
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me!" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it burped, and he said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped Harold, pointing at the purple, evil telekinetic fruitcake. He wiped at his forehead after missing his chin. Seeing this, the intruders began to giggle like women. The fruitcake appeared
(Hey, I remember this thread )
Posts: 213 | Registered: Jan 2007
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me!" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it burped, and he said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped Harold, pointing at the purple, evil telekinetic fruitcake. He wiped at his forehead after missing his chin. Seeing this, the intruders began to giggle like women. The fruitcake appeared to them asPosts: 993 | Registered: Jul 2006
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me!" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it burped, and he said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped Harold, pointing at the purple, evil telekinetic fruitcake. He wiped at his forehead after missing his chin. Seeing this, the intruders began to giggle like women. The fruitcake appeared to them as though it was
Posts: 2437 | Registered: Apr 2005
| IP: Logged |
posted
One sunny day, as the coastal wind began to rise, a woman woke. The morning air smelled like fermented used sweatsocks fumigated with perfumes. Dead were the possibilities of misfortune. The woman looked out the window, and sneezed powerfully, being somewhat less than terminally ill. She turned as she was miraculously healed.
"You!" she giggled, wickedly.
Her husband smiled. "Me!" he said, mischeviously, grape jelly cascading down his chin. He seemed profoundly unconcerned with the large monkey until it burped, and he said, "Give me jelly, you stupid monolith worshipping ape!"
"Harold!"
The monkey replied, "What? He ate my jelly sandwich."
The woman screamed with fear as a mighty foghorn reminded her that the boat set sail an hour ago. She mightily hurt her chances of escaping the monkey's jelly-covered claws.
"Aack! I can't believe it's not butter!"
"You had better not! It is definitely monkey jelly!"
Suddenly, the door was kicked in.
The television alerted them of surreptitious break-ins by local police officers disguised as old women.
At the door were three old women asking to come in, for they intended to steal the jelly.
The husband blanched, his face turning towards Harold.
"You!" he giggled, gruesomely.
They removed guns from their boots and threw them at the monkey. The monkey caught every one, missing none of them.
"Take that!" they yelled in manly voices that both frightened and enraged the neocon right. They then took several large balloons filled with helium, the kind that you usually buy at party stores, and ate them.
"Frankly, my dear, I'm puzzled," said Harold, carefully placing the guns on a crate of live mice. "Why did you knock my door off its hinges? Wouldn't using the toilet at Wal-Mart be more relaxing?"
The intruders, now utterly constipated, began squealing in anger.
Meanwhile, the mice quickly escaped, correctly sensing that they were about to be bleached. The scent of stale fruitcake made them turn a hard left, taking out the vase.
Shards of painted glass, hand-crafted by god himself, flew away towards a rift in space-time but the fruitcake's gravitational pull threw multicoluoured confetti at his face.
"What is this" yelped Harold, pointing at the purple, evil telekinetic fruitcake. He wiped at his forehead after missing his chin. Seeing this, the intruders began to giggle like women. The fruitcake appeared to them as though it was made out of
Posts: 993 | Registered: Jul 2006
| IP: Logged |
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