Friday, April 20, 2007

Rubber, Inflatable Abdominals Of Slumber

Beware the abdominal snowman. The abominable one is surely no worse for wear. The leather makes for a rather good winter picture diary. Super Combat Butlers to rescue the prisoner cover slips from my sludge-enveloped, feathery earthwormy friends. Mossy green polar bears have the most insquishable appetite for easter bunny hair. Poor bald bunny. It's not funny. Especially when it was all sunny. The yolk in my polk-a is runny. Besides the point, a bit to the left, maybe a bit above as well lies the belowest of the bellow's below. Did you think you could hide from a feather angel? Squiggly fish lateral lines.
If you study the weather, you have no life. Great offence was not meant to be a part of the non-offensive implication of the objectionable comment I never just made. I mean, who wants to look at the fluffyness of floating razor-blade wielding permanent marker flavoured water vapoured pastel coloured simpleton thievery. Lost track of my train there. Slipped the rails. Fell of the railing. Stumbled into a plastic slipper. No, pitcher plants have not been drinking slime balls to get high. That's the proboscis monkey's proboscis' 400598th nostril hair's incentive to achieve greater hights of sound quality. As for the 400599th nostril hair, picnics in the rain, living among the oak trees, feeding on pencil case fibres. From their diet, it can be deduced that eyeballs are cholesterol free and suffer not from constipation. Mastication of mastification seems to help. What's mastification? The process of mastifying something.
Just as obviously, using a negative sign in a coin box doesn't help to stop the plague. Sing a song of six pence a pocket full of bones... stones... cones... phones... tones... credit-card holding uniformed arctic terns. Migration is the ultimate form of settling down for a lifetime. Blue LED goes on a nomadic journey to find the fabled land of coffee bottle top Gomoku games.
Back to square one. Nought or cross? That's like asking "Somersaulting butterfly or mentally disabled euphemistic grasshopper larvae eaters?" But not really...
If you thought walking into a steel rod was funny, try jumping off a ledge into a pool of cockroach guts. Just at that moment, if you're lucky (which you probably won't be) and amazingly dense (which you could be, even now...) the medal of pica honour will meep its way onto your lap with amazing dexterity. Finally I will be one with the gold ribbon as the assault helicopermermeterer THING zeros the max and stationaries the pointer on the head of a backflip triple loop monkey-fly-undone barrel-of-wine roll. Eeeeeeooooooo plop.
Like washers in the night. Doing laundry.

Comic part 2's gonna be late... probly.

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