<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039</id><updated>2012-01-02T18:49:54.353-08:00</updated><category term='Frog'/><category term='Crybaby'/><category term='Mad Libs Results'/><category term='Elasticwaistband Lady'/><category term='Brillig'/><category term='Sharon'/><category term='J-Dog'/><category term='Mrs. Organic'/><category term='Tree Monkey'/><category term='So Grateful To Be Mormon'/><category term='Annie'/><category term='Kelli in the Mirror'/><category term='Dave'/><category term='Sniffery Pitbeard'/><category term='Anne/kq'/><category term='Wynne'/><category term='Tracy M'/><category term='Harry Para Leggs'/><category term='Rebecca'/><category term='Darn It Janet'/><category term='Wendy'/><category term='Ordinary Mom'/><category term='Tonya'/><category term='Lazy Lion'/><category term='Acacia'/><category term='Stacey'/><category term='Powerhouse'/><category term='Mrs. Monkey'/><category term='Sassy'/><category term='No Cool Story'/><category term='Klin'/><category term='Mel Smell'/><category term='Mindyluwho'/><category term='Melissa'/><category term='Crap Happy Mama'/><category term='Trena'/><category term='Carrie'/><category term='Mr. J'/><category term='Gina'/><category term='Heffalump'/><category term='Lt Col Samantha Carter'/><category term='Dalene'/><category term='Sketchy'/><category term='Pezlady'/><category term='Rachael'/><category term='Jaguar'/><category term='Millie'/><category term='Thorny Tree Lady'/><category term='PJ'/><category term='Carronin'/><category term='Elizabeth-W'/><category term='Coconut Kate'/><category term='Emma Sometimes'/><category term='Candace'/><category term='Johnna'/><category term='CoconutKate'/><category term='Methodical Wormer'/><category term='Tori:)'/><category term='Nikko'/><category term='Randi'/><category term='Becky'/><category term='Glittersmama'/><category term='Jumping Monkey'/><category term='Hugh Jybahl'/><category term='Carrot Jello'/><category term='Suzanne'/><category term='Dawnyel'/><category term='FluffyChicky'/><category term='Physcokity'/><category term='Oldest'/><category term='Luisa Perkins'/><category term='Koda Bear'/><category term='Amanda'/><category term='Jean Knee'/><category term='b'/><category term='Melonsquirtz'/><category term='Omar'/><category term='Leonardo DiCapitated'/><title type='text'>Mad Libs Monday</title><subtitle type='html'>It's just another Mad Libs Monday (whoooooaaaaa)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Mrs. Gene Geek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07152740036049474488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TSpYJgS8_Mo/Thurv3cJ_zI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/WeL7mSkjR_E/s220/poygamists.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>208</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-4319686777504401638</id><published>2011-12-30T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T00:00:14.131-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>New Year's Resolutions 2012</title><content type='html'>1. I, (name of person in room), will (verb) every day at the gym for at least (number) minutes.&lt;br /&gt;2. At the dinner table, I will eat only (number) servings of (noun).&lt;br /&gt;3. I will watch only (adjective) television shows.&lt;br /&gt;4. I will tell (name of person in room) that I think he/she is a/an (adjective) (noun).&lt;br /&gt;5. I will ask my boss for a/an (number)-dollar raise.&lt;br /&gt;6. I will admit that I have a/an (adjective) personality.&lt;br /&gt;7. I will take my (noun) to (noun) at least once a month.&lt;br /&gt;8. I will (verb) one book every (number) weeks.&lt;br /&gt;9. I will try to lose at least (number) pounds.&lt;br /&gt;10. I will return the (adjective) (plural noun) I borrowed from (person in room).&lt;br /&gt;11. I will get on a (noun) and only spend (number) dollars a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I, Awful Topic Tina, will sway every day at the gym for at least two minutes.&lt;br /&gt;2. At the dinner table, I will eat only fourteen servings of angst.&lt;br /&gt;3. I will watch only tantalizing television shows.&lt;br /&gt;4. I will tell Dripped-on Darryl that I think he is a licked-by-a-giraffe Jo-Ann Fabrics store.&lt;br /&gt;5. I will ask my boss for a nineteen-dollar raise.&lt;br /&gt;6. I will admit that I have a salt-makes-hyper personality.&lt;br /&gt;7. I will take my ear earring to John Grisham fan at least once a month.&lt;br /&gt;8. I will mimic one book every thirty weeks.&lt;br /&gt;9. I will try to lose at least forty pounds.&lt;br /&gt;10. I will return the after-Christmas relief experiencing shorts I borrowed from Seriously Slappy Sally.&lt;br /&gt;11. I will get on a pre-existence and only spend forty-two dollars a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I, Kiki, will hand jive every day at the gym for at least 7 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;2. At the dinner table, I will eat only 52 servings of Concord grape jelly.&lt;br /&gt;3. I will watch only wobbly television shows.&lt;br /&gt;4. I will tell Esmerelda that I think she is a satirical Gollum.&lt;br /&gt;5. I will ask my boss for a 16-dollar raise.&lt;br /&gt;6. I will admit that I have an expensive personality.&lt;br /&gt;7. I will take my mashed potato to stocking lint at least once a month.&lt;br /&gt;8. I will jump one book every 25 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;9. I will try to lose at least 43 pounds.&lt;br /&gt;10. I will return the personable jelly beans I borrowed from Smitty.&lt;br /&gt;11. I will get on a wire whisk and only spend 88 dollars a month.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-4319686777504401638?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/4319686777504401638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=4319686777504401638&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4319686777504401638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4319686777504401638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/12/new-years-resolutions-2012.html' title='New Year&apos;s Resolutions 2012'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-166142261117065020</id><published>2011-12-26T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T00:00:05.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December 26</title><content type='html'>3 names of people in room&lt;br /&gt;2 verbs &lt;br /&gt;6 numbers&lt;br /&gt;5 nouns &lt;br /&gt;4 adjectives &lt;br /&gt;Plural noun&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-166142261117065020?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/166142261117065020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=166142261117065020&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/166142261117065020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/166142261117065020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-26.html' title='December 26'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-8837132381647402677</id><published>2011-12-09T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T08:56:43.818-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>New York, New York</title><content type='html'>Falling in love with the Big (noun), especially at Christmas time, can happen in a/an (place) minute.  Perhaps it comes when you and your (noun) stroll through Central Park after the trees and the (plural noun) are blanketed by a/an (adjective) snow (noun).  Or maybe when you (verb) a corner and come upon a/an (adjective) vendor selling hot roasted (plural noun) and warming his (part of the body, plural) over the (adjective) flame.  Maybe it happens when you first glimpse some (adjective) skaters bundled in warm (plural noun) gliding across the (adjective) ice of Rockefeller (noun).  Who knows when you'll be smitten?  All we know is, it will most (adverb) happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Klin said... &lt;br /&gt;Falling in love with the Big Christmas Tree, especially at Christmas time, can happen in a BYU Marriott Center minute.  Perhaps it comes when you and your Ford truck stroll through Central Park after the trees and the new tires are blanketed by a blubbering snow mountain height.  Or maybe when you hang a corner and come upon a frozen vendor selling hot roasted Christmas lights and warming his toesies over the loud flame.  Maybe it happens when you first glimpse some orange skaters bundled in warm teensy tiny kitties gliding across the crusty ice of Rockefeller Game Show Host.  Who knows when you'll be smitten?  All we know is, it will most utterly happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Falling in love with the Big Mini Doberman Pincher, especially at Christmas time, can happen in a Sarsparilla Sally's Swanky Saloon minute.  Perhaps it comes when you and your personal chef stroll through Central Park after the trees and the lightsabers are blanketed by a pensive snow quiche.  Or maybe when you shout at a corner and come upon an ear splitting vendor selling hot roasted chopsticks and warming his toes over the gargantuan flame.  Maybe it happens when you first glimpse some impatient skaters bundled in warm clocks gliding across the disobedient ice of Rockefeller Secret Agent.  Who knows when you'll be smitten?  All we know is, it will most maddeningly happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-8837132381647402677?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/8837132381647402677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=8837132381647402677&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8837132381647402677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8837132381647402677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/12/new-york-new-york.html' title='New York, New York'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-2891395155250015617</id><published>2011-11-21T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T00:00:01.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving!</title><content type='html'>You get the week off.  Gobble, gobble, gobble!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-2891395155250015617?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/2891395155250015617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=2891395155250015617&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2891395155250015617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2891395155250015617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving!'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-7634289921405907152</id><published>2011-11-18T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T08:09:35.243-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Chinese Dinner</title><content type='html'>I recently had dinner at a new Chinese restaurant.  The cooking is (adjective) and the service is (adjective).  The owner of the restaurant, (celebrity), suggested that for my first course I have sweet and (adjective) spare ribs, which is a specialty of the (noun).  They were (adjective).  For the next course, I was served a/an (adjective) (noun) soup.  The main course consisted of Egg Foo (noun), lobster in (food) sauce, and pressed (food).  For dessert, I ordered those famous Chinese (noun) cookies with sliced (food).  But whenever I eat Chinese food, an hour later I feel (adjective) again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently had dinner at a new Chinese restaurant.  The cooking is fluffy and the service is ubiquitous.  The owner of the restaurant, Hugh Jackman, suggested that for my first course I have sweet and self-centered spare ribs, which is a specialty of the Wii remote.  They were charred.  For the next course, I was served a feeble sideburns soup.  The main course consisted of Egg Foo Corvette, lobster in egg salad sandwich sauce, and pressed creme brulee.  For dessert, I ordered those famous Chinese school uniform cookies with sliced strained pears.  But whenever I eat Chinese food, an hour later I feel flouncy again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently had dinner at a new Chinese restaurant.  The cooking is superior and loving it and the service is shower-needing.  The owner of the restaurant, Gary Coleman, suggested that for my first course I have sweet and Snuggie-wearing spare ribs, which is a specialty of the saucy lass.  They were ruffled like a 70s tux.  For the next course, I was served an anxious about getting skirt caught in pantyhose ball of twine soup.  The main course consisted of Egg Foo Band Geek, lobster in London broil sauce, and pressed peanut butter.  For dessert, I ordered those famous Chinese three-footed cane cookies with sliced Funyuns.  But whenever I eat Chinese food, an hour later I feel dropped as a baby again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-7634289921405907152?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/7634289921405907152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=7634289921405907152&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7634289921405907152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7634289921405907152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/11/chinese-dinner.html' title='Chinese Dinner'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1758301905843098672</id><published>2011-11-11T11:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T09:51:19.804-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Cave Exploring</title><content type='html'>If you like to go spatting in googly-eyed caves that are 157 feet underground, you should go to the constantly scratching Mammoth Caves located in Boogalagrium, Russia. Thousands of booger art display admiring kitty kutlets go there every summer. Crawling about in caves is called “spelunking.” And it is really a hair-lipped sport. But always go with a never wears pants that fit guide so you won’t get lost. Once in the cave, you will see beautiful spanked face red and pumpkin orange rocks and crystals. Huge bad advice giving things hang from the ceiling and are called “stalagtites.” Huge lingering bad smell providing things jut up from the floor and are called “stalagmites.” Caves are home for millions of wart picking bats. Bats can fly and look like can’t quit snorting rats. Spelunking is dangerous, so be sure to wear special shoes with spied on snowman builders on them and a hat with a battery-powered wooden leg named Smith.  (by my sister)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you like to go jogging in penultimate caves that are 67 feet underground, you should go to the Springy Mammoth Caves located in Petaluma. Thousands of towering Clown College graduates go there every summer. Crawling about in caves is called “spelunking.” And it is really an orange glazed sport. But always go with a sock-like guide so you won’t get lost. Once in the cave, you will see beautiful mauve and chartreuse rocks and crystals. Huge meandering things hang from the ceiling and are called “stalagtites.” Huge spiky things jut up from the floor and are called “stalagmites.” Caves are home for millions of Broadway-themed bats. Bats can fly and look like chocolate-covered rats. Spelunking is dangerous, so be sure to wear special shoes with Rubik's Cubes on them and a hat with a battery-powered cheesecake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you like to go swearing in obnoxious caves that are 7 feet underground, you should go to the Lazy Mammoth Caves located at BYU. Thousands of adorable baby toys go there every summer. Crawling about in caves is called “spelunking.” And it is really a hungry sport. But always go with a clean guide so you won’t get lost. Once in the cave, you will see beautiful yellow and orange rocks and crystals. Huge loud things hang from the ceiling and are called “stalagtites.” Huge happy things jut up from the floor and are called “stalagmites.” Caves are home for millions of frustrated bats. Bats can fly and look like super smart rats. Spelunking is dangerous, so be sure to wear special shoes with dog toys on them and a hat with a battery-powered fireplace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you like to go making fun in stopped up and bubbling caves that are 327 feet underground, you should go to the Ignorant of Platypuses Mammoth Caves located in Poison Spider, Wyoming. Thousands of Phineas and Ferb-obsessed beef tenderloins go there every summer. Crawling about in caves is called “spelunking.” And it is really a compulsive houseplant watering sport. But always go with a zombiefied guide so you won’t get lost. Once in the cave, you will see beautiful purple and neon blue rocks and crystals. Huge floating in midair things hang from the ceiling and are called “stalagtites.” Huge blackened things jut up from the floor and are called “stalagmites.” Caves are home for millions of stiff and stinky bats. Bats can fly and look like pink rats. Spelunking is dangerous, so be sure to wear special shoes with Christmas bonbons on them and a hat with battery-powered roadkill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1758301905843098672?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1758301905843098672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1758301905843098672&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1758301905843098672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1758301905843098672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/11/cave-exploring.html' title='Cave Exploring'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-9021755665664715441</id><published>2011-11-04T06:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T11:48:37.301-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Political Speech</title><content type='html'>Ladies and gentlemen, on this (adjective) occasion it is a privilege to address such a (adjective)-looking group of (plural noun). I can tell from your smiling (plural noun) that you will support my (adjective) program in the coming election. I promise that, if elected, there wil be a (noun) in every (noun) and two (plural noun) in every garage. I want to warn you against my (adjective) opponent, Mr. (name of person). This man is nothing but a (adjective) (noun). He has a (adjective) character and is working (noun) in glove with the criminal element. If elected, I promise to eliminate vice. I will keep the (plural noun) off the city's streets. I will keep crooks from dipping their (plural noun) in the public till. I promise you (adjective) government, (adjective) taxes, and (adjective) schools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Millie said...&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, on this toner-swilling occasion it is a privilege to address such a threaded the wrong way-looking group of piggy banks. I can tell from your smiling tamales that you will support my itchy program in the coming election. I promise that, if elected, there will be a nudist who wears a tie to church in every sock monkey and two mismatched socks in every garage. I want to warn you against my s'more-eating opponent, Mr. Staunch Stench. This man is nothing but a slapped purple drunk. He has a tattling character and is working can of fruit cocktail in glove with the criminal element. If elected, I promise to eliminate vice. I will keep the 5-year-old binky enthusiasts off the city's streets. I will keep crooks from dipping their maggots in the public till. I promise you crunchified government, ape-like taxes, and shocked-by-jumper-cables schools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, on this serendipitous occasion it is a privilege to address such a swell-looking group of garbanzo beans. I can tell from your smiling blackeyed peas that you will support my six foot long program in the coming election. I promise that, if elected, there will be a soup in every stew and two chickpeas in every garage. I want to warn you against my denture wearing opponent, Mr. Jack. This man is nothing but a spellbound bisque. He has a felicitous character and is working chowder in glove with the criminal element. If elected, I promise to eliminate vice. I will keep the kidney beans off the city's streets. I will keep crooks from dipping their lentils in the public till. I promise you smarmy government, envelope licking taxes, and swine sniffing schools.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-9021755665664715441?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/9021755665664715441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=9021755665664715441&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/9021755665664715441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/9021755665664715441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/11/political-speech.html' title='Political Speech'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-7351631645815452651</id><published>2011-10-28T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T08:00:06.969-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>The High School Monster 2011</title><content type='html'>NARRATOR: Our scene is in a/an (adjective) high school in (name of town).  The students are (adjective) with fear.  Listen as our heroine, (girl in room), speaks to (boy in room).&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: The High School Monster has eaten three more pretty young (plural noun) and boiled the (noun) teacher.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Don't be afraid, (pet name).  I think the monster is really just a (noun).&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: But (a person) saw it.  It has (a number) arms and long (adjective) hair and (a color) teeth.&lt;br /&gt;BOY:  Hmm.  That sounds like (someone in room).&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: When I go out I walk very (adverb).&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I am going to set a trap for this so-called monster.  And you must be the (adjective) bait.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Oh no!  Do I look (adjective)?  Get some other (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NARRATOR: Our scene is in a dilapidated high school in Eerie, Indiana.  The students are gothic with fear.  Listen as our heroine, Mina, speaks to Vlad.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: The High School Monster has eaten three more pretty young fangs and boiled the blood donor teacher.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Don't be afraid, dearheart.  I think the monster is really just a castle.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: But Jonathan Harker saw it.  It has 27 arms and long musty hair and red teeth.&lt;br /&gt;BOY:  Hmm.  That sounds like Kirsten Dunst.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: When I go out I walk very garlic-wearingly.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I am going to set a trap for this so-called monster.  And you must be the black bait.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Oh no!  Do I look corpse-like?  Get some other bat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NARRATOR: Our scene is in a gum-smacking high school in the Lower East Side.  The students are cocky with fear.  Listen as our heroine, Izzy the Nose, speaks to Roman Carpiti.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: The High School Monster has eaten three more pretty young choir boys and boiled the shelf paper teacher.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Don't be afraid, Doll.  I think the monster is really just a price tag gun.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: But Mary Margaret Catherine Dineen saw it.  It has 25 arms and long robotic hair and flaming red teeth.&lt;br /&gt;BOY:  Hmm.  That sounds like Danny Vermin.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: When I go out I walk very dangerously.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I am going to set a trap for this so-called monster.  And you must be the impressive bait.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Oh no!  Do I look sweater-knitting?  Get some other 88 Magnum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-7351631645815452651?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/7351631645815452651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=7351631645815452651&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7351631645815452651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7351631645815452651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/10/high-school-monster-2011.html' title='The High School Monster 2011'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-3917108448504711647</id><published>2011-10-21T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T09:12:03.451-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Description of a Horror TV Show</title><content type='html'>Last week, I saw a television show that really gave me (an animal) pimples!  It starred (a person) as a mad (an occupation) who discovers a way to make bedbugs fourteen feet high!  The scientist has a goofy assistant, played by (a person), who gets mad because the scientist keeps hitting him on the head with a/an (noun).  So he lets the bedbugs loose.  Right away they start to eat up (a place).  The army tries to stop them by spraying them with (a liquid) but that doesn't bother those (adjective) bedbugs.  They go right on and eat up Chicago.  Then the army drops an atom (noun) on them and this kills all of them except one super bedbug who grabs the (adjective) scientist and jumps into a volcano.  And then the goofy assistant takes off his disguise and says, "I was only a/an (noun) for the F.B.I.," and he marries the scientist's beautiful (noun), who is played by (a person), and they live (adverb) ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I saw a television show that really gave me aardvark pimples!  It starred Larry as a mad Secret Shopper who discovers a way to make bedbugs fourteen feet high!  The scientist has a goofy assistant, played by Curly, who gets mad because the scientist keeps hitting him on the head with a public restroom.  So he lets the bedbugs loose.  Right away they start to eat up Red Robin.  The army tries to stop them by spraying them with melted Mud Pie but that doesn't bother those despair inducing bedbugs.  They go right on and eat up Chicago.  Then the army drops an atom china cabinet on them and this kills all of them except one super bedbug who grabs the checkered scientist and jumps into a volcano.  And then the goofy assistant takes off his disguise and says, "I was only a velvet smoking jacket for the F.B.I.," and he marries the scientist's beautiful bunny slipper, who is played by Moe, and they live destructively ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I saw a television show that really gave me locust pimples!  It starred Fred Gibbs as a mad crabber who discovers a way to make bedbugs fourteen feet high!  The scientist has a goofy assistant, played by Catnip Jones, who gets mad because the scientist keeps hitting him on the head with an ironing board.  So he lets the bedbugs loose.  Right away they start to eat up the indoors.  The army tries to stop them by spraying them with slug slime but that doesn't bother those blue and protruding bedbugs.  They go right on and eat up Chicago.  Then the army drops an atom chip-wanting child on them and this kills all of them except one super bedbug who grabs the crappily homeschooled scientist and jumps into a volcano.  And then the goofy assistant takes off his disguise and says, "I was only a constant complainer for the F.B.I.," and he marries the scientist's beautiful lumberjack, who is played by Shirley U. Jest, and they live hip-bumpingly ever after.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-3917108448504711647?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/3917108448504711647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=3917108448504711647&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3917108448504711647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3917108448504711647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/10/description-of-horror-tv-show.html' title='Description of a Horror TV Show'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-8890216511894519109</id><published>2011-10-14T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T08:00:05.010-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Columbus and Isabella</title><content type='html'>COLUMBUS: Queen Isabella, it is I, Christopher Columbus.  I have returned after discovering a new route to (a place).&lt;br /&gt;ISABELLA: That's news, Columbus.  Did you bring back lots of silver and precious (plural noun)?&lt;br /&gt;COLUMBUS: No, your majesty.  But you'll never have to pawn the royal (plural noun) again.  I discovered a/an (adjective) land populated by fierce, red (plural noun), and I claimed them all in the name of the Spanish (noun).&lt;br /&gt;ISABELLA: (Exclamation)!  This will please my husband, (a person).  What are these natives called?&lt;br /&gt;COLUMBUS: They are called (plural noun), your majesty.  They put (a liquid) on their faces and wear (plural noun) in their hair.&lt;br /&gt;ISABELLA: You have made a/an (adjective) voyage, Columbus, and your (noun) will go down in history!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;br /&gt;COLUMBUS: Queen Isabella, it is I, Christopher Columbus.  I have returned after discovering a new route to Transylvania.&lt;br /&gt;ISABELLA: That's news, Columbus.  Did you bring back lots of silver and precious bats?&lt;br /&gt;COLUMBUS: No, your majesty.  But you'll never have to pawn the royal mummies again.  I discovered a gothic land populated by fierce, red blood donors, and I claimed them all in the name of the Spanish hunchback.&lt;br /&gt;ISABELLA: I vant to suck your blood, blah!  This will please my husband, Dracula.  What are these natives called?&lt;br /&gt;COLUMBUS: They are called castles, your majesty.  They put blood on their faces and wear pediatricians in their hair.&lt;br /&gt;ISABELLA: You have made an hypnotic voyage, Columbus, and your victim will go down in history!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Millie said...&lt;br /&gt;COLUMBUS: Queen Isabella, it is I, Christopher Columbus.  I have returned after discovering a new route to Occupy Portland.&lt;br /&gt;ISABELLA: That's news, Columbus.  Did you bring back lots of silver and precious slipknots?&lt;br /&gt;COLUMBUS: No, your majesty.  But you'll never have to pawn the royal huge belches again.  I discovered an incomprehensible land populated by fierce, red onion rings, and I claimed them all in the name of the Spanish cherry stem tied in a knot with one's tongue.&lt;br /&gt;ISABELLA: Do whatever, Dittums!  This will please my husband, Grant Staten III.  What are these natives called?&lt;br /&gt;COLUMBUS: They are called little April showers, your majesty.  They put Spaghetti-o Surprise on their faces and wear Hillary hairdos in their hair.&lt;br /&gt;ISABELLA: You have made a mortified by its mother voyage, Columbus, and your gas station attendant will go down in history!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-8890216511894519109?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/8890216511894519109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=8890216511894519109&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8890216511894519109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8890216511894519109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/10/columbus-and-isabella.html' title='Columbus and Isabella'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-4818233950690413634</id><published>2011-10-07T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-09T10:57:58.708-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Report by Student Protest Committee</title><content type='html'>Fellow Students of (full name of school)!  We members of the Students for a/an (adjective) Society are meeting here to decide what action to take about the Dean of (plural noun).  He has just fired our friend, Professor (name of person in room), because he wore his (part of the body) long, and because he dressed in (article of clothing) and wore old (plural noun).  Next week we are going to protest by taking over the (noun) building and kidnapping the Assistant (noun).  We also will demand that all students have the right to wear (adjective) hair and (adjective) beards.  Remember our slogan: "Down with (Plural noun)!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fellow Students of Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters)!  We members of the Students for a Super Powered Society are meeting here to decide what action to take about the Dean of Villains.  He has just fired our friend, Professor Logan, because he wore his claws long, and because he dressed in spandex unitards and wore old victims.  Next week we are going to protest by taking over the motorcycle building and kidnapping the Assistant Jet.  We also will demand that all students have the right to wear invisible hair and psychic beards.  Remember our slogan: "Down with mutants!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fellow Students of BYWho?!  We members of the Students for a Dirt-Covered Society are meeting here to decide what action to take about the Dean of Fiddlesticks.  He has just fired our friend, Professor Angry Angus, because he wore his huge mole long, and because he dressed in a diaper and wore old burp rags.  Next week we are going to protest by taking over the skankwad building and kidnapping the Assistant Hobo Trousers.  We also will demand that all students have the right to wear fuzzy mammoth-resembling hair and lazy and unashamed beards.  Remember our slogan: "Down with Chocolate Masques!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-4818233950690413634?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/4818233950690413634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=4818233950690413634&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4818233950690413634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4818233950690413634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/10/report-by-student-protest-committee.html' title='Report by Student Protest Committee'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-2304795602080181887</id><published>2011-09-30T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T08:00:04.736-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Show and Tell</title><content type='html'>Today, I would like to show the class a/an (noun) I caught when I went (verb ending in ING) with my aunt.  I had never fished before, but my aunt (adverb) taught me how to bait a hook with a/an (something alive) and then how to cast the (noun) into the (adjective) lake.  I (verb) fishing! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is (person in room) and I would like to show the class this (adjective) (noun) from my mother's kitchen.  My mother uses it every morning to fix my (something to eat).  It is also useful if you are into (verb ending in ING) or if you want to slice up some (plural noun).  If you want one, you can buy it at your local (noun) store for only (number) dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I would like to show the class a disintegrator ray I caught when I went boogeying with my aunt.  I had never fished before, but my aunt stealthily taught me how to bait a hook with a velociraptor and then how to cast the pillow sham into the adroit lake.  I dance fishing! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is Benjamin Franklin and I would like to show the class this condescending tiger shark from my mother's kitchen.  My mother uses it every morning to fix my bean burrito.  It is also useful if you are into frying or if you want to slice up some galoshes.  If you want one, you can buy it at your local vitamin fortified cereal store for only 7.5 dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I would like to show the class a drip pan I caught when I went booing with my aunt.  I had never fished before, but my aunt cup-tippingly taught me how to bait a hook with toenail fungus and then how to cast the unwanted hair into the funky lake.  I froth at the mouth fishing! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is The Neighborhood Mime and I would like to show the class this emerald green clone of Selma Bouvier from my mother's kitchen.  My mother uses it every morning to fix my bacon-wrapped Snickers bars.  It is also useful if you are into mugging or if you want to slice up some uncomfortable pauses.  If you want one, you can buy it at your local snot-nosed kid store for only 2736 dollars.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-2304795602080181887?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/2304795602080181887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=2304795602080181887&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2304795602080181887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2304795602080181887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/09/show-and-tell.html' title='Show and Tell'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1564689888769125282</id><published>2011-09-23T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-23T08:00:11.631-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><title type='text'>Great Excuses For Being Late</title><content type='html'>Dear Physical Education Teacher,&lt;br /&gt;Please excuse my son/daughter from missing (adjective) class yesterday.  When (person in room) awakened yesterday, I could see that his/her nose was (adjective).  He/She also complained of (part of the body) aches and having a sore (noun), and I took him/her to the family (noun).  The doctor quickly diagnosed it to be the (number)-hour flu and suggested he/she take two (plural noun) with a glass of (liquid) and go to bed (adverb).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Science Teacher,&lt;br /&gt;Please excuse (person in room) for being late for your (adjective) class.  It's my fault.  I feel (adjective).  (person in room) was up until the (adjective) hours of the morning completing his/her (adjective) project.  Just as he/she was going out the (adjective) door, I noticed that his/her only pair of (plural noun) had a/an (noun) in them.  It took me an hour to find my (plural noun) so I could see to (verb) the needle, enabling me to sew his/her (plural noun) back together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Dear Physical Education Teacher,&lt;br /&gt;Please excuse my son from missing blobby class yesterday.  When Armitage awakened yesterday, I could see that his nose was chewed until unrecognizable.  He also complained of stray hair aches and having a sore superfluous throw pillow, and I took him to the family old boyfriend.  The doctor quickly diagnosed it to be the 2773-hour flu and suggested he take two toe rings with a glass of squash ooze and go to bed half-heartedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Science Teacher,&lt;br /&gt;Please excuse Hedwig for being late for your reconstituted class.  It's my fault.  I feel kitty-obsessed.  Hedwig was up until the leatherlike hours of the morning completing her pink and fluffy project.  Just as she was going out the rancid door, I noticed that her only pair of dinner menus had a ponytail in them.  It took me an hour to find my bladder weaknesses so I could see to mince the needle, enabling me to sew her leering old men back together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1564689888769125282?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1564689888769125282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1564689888769125282&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1564689888769125282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1564689888769125282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/09/great-excuses-for-being-late.html' title='Great Excuses For Being Late'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-5250699270763945579</id><published>2011-09-16T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T00:00:13.505-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Eat, Drink, and Be Sick</title><content type='html'>An inspector from the Department of Health and (noun) Services paid a surprise visit to our (adjective) school cafeteria.  The lunch special, prepared by our (adjective) dietician, was spaghetti and (noun)-balls with a choice of either a/an (noun) salad or french (plural noun).  The inspector found the meat-(plural noun) to be overcooked and discovered a live (noun) in the fries, causing him to have a/an (part of the body)ache.  In response, he threw up all over his (plural noun).  In his report, the inspector (adverb) recommended that the school cafeteria serve only nutritious (plural noun) as well as low-calorie (plural noun), and that all of the saturated (plural noun) be eliminated.  He rated the cafeteria a/an (letter of the alphabet)-minus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An inspector from the Department of Health and Very Catchy Kenny Rogers Tune Services paid a surprise visit to our steroid-using school cafeteria.  The lunch special, prepared by our Halloween-obsessed dietician, was spaghetti and snake tongue-balls with a choice of either an eraser salad or french tootsie-toesies.  The inspector found the meat-garbage trucks to be overcooked and discovered a live eyeliner pencil in the fries, causing him to have a jugular vein ache.  In response, he threw up all over his Warrior Dash participants.  In his report, the inspector self-consciously recommended that the school cafeteria serve only nutritious wedgie-givers as well as low-calorie brownie crumbs, and that all of the saturated disapproving old ladies be eliminated.  He rated the cafeteria a Q-minus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An inspector from the Department of Health and Capillary Services paid a surprise visit to our deep fried school cafeteria.  The lunch special, prepared by our menacing dietician, was spaghetti and rosebud-balls with a choice of either a nose hair salad or french otter pops.  The inspector found the meat-weekend bingers to be overcooked and discovered a live corn fritter in the fries, causing him to have an ear cartilege ache.  In response, he threw up all over his dance clubs.  In his report, the inspector adroitly recommended that the school cafeteria serve only nutritious disco balls as well as low-calorie DVDs, and that all of the saturated vintage lunch boxes be eliminated.  He rated the cafeteria a P-minus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-5250699270763945579?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/5250699270763945579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=5250699270763945579&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5250699270763945579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5250699270763945579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/09/eat-drink-and-be-sick.html' title='Eat, Drink, and Be Sick'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-7163462064888660744</id><published>2011-09-09T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T08:00:07.827-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Alice's Upside-Down World</title><content type='html'>Lewis Carroll's classic, &lt;em&gt;Alice's Adventures in Wonderland&lt;/em&gt;, as well as its (adjective) sequel, &lt;em&gt;Through the Looking (noun)&lt;/em&gt;, have enchanted both the young and the old (plural noun) for the last (number) years.  Alice's (adjective) adventures begin when she (verb ending in S) down a/an (adjective) hole and lands in a strange and topsy-turvy (noun).  There she discovers she can become a tall (noun) or a small (noun) simply by nibbling on alternate sides of a magic (noun).  In her travels through Wonderland, Alice (verb ending in S) such remarkable characters as the White (noun), the (adjective) Hatter, the Cheshire (noun), and even the Queen of (plural noun).  Unfortunately, Alice's adventures come to a/an (adjective) end when Alice awakens from her (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lewis Carroll's classic, &lt;em&gt;Alice's Adventures in Wonderland&lt;/em&gt;, as well as its exacting sequel, &lt;em&gt;Through the Looking Nose/Finger Magnet&lt;/em&gt;, have enchanted both the young and the old finger cymbals for the last 183 years.  Alice's monstrous adventures begin when she rips down a suffering-from-allergies hole and lands in a strange and topsy-turvy six-shooter.  There she discovers she can become a tall little deuce coupe or a small angry crocodile simply by nibbling on alternate sides of a magic OMSI frequenter.  In her travels through Wonderland, Alice toots such remarkable characters as the White Taskmaster, the Yellow with a Questionable Substance Hatter, the Cheshire Wheel of Fish, and even the Queen of Family Crest Tattoos.  Unfortunately, Alice's adventures come to an unsure end when Alice awakens from her umbilical cord necklace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lewis Carroll's classic, &lt;em&gt;Alice's Adventures in Wonderland&lt;/em&gt;, as well as its didactic sequel, &lt;em&gt;Through the Looking Twine&lt;/em&gt;, have enchanted both the young and the old flip flops for the last 17 years.  Alice's creative adventures begin when she grimaces down a splendorous hole and lands in a strange and topsy-turvy chair lashed during a boy scout campout.  There she discovers she can become a tall jet engine or a small sock monkey simply by nibbling on alternate sides of a magic shoe box.  In her travels through Wonderland, Alice sprays such remarkable characters as the White Glue Stick, the Smelly Hatter, the Cheshire Ladder, and even the Queen of Tartans.  Unfortunately, Alice's adventures come to an avocado green end when Alice awakens from her crayon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-7163462064888660744?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/7163462064888660744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=7163462064888660744&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7163462064888660744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7163462064888660744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/09/alices-upside-down-world.html' title='Alice&apos;s Upside-Down World'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-7004905989545282676</id><published>2011-09-02T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-03T19:53:31.375-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Little Red Riding Hood</title><content type='html'>One day, Little (color) Riding Hood was going through the forest carrying a basket of (plural noun) for her grandmother.  Suddenly, she met a big (adjective) wolf.  "(Exclamation)!" said the wolf.  "Where are you going, little (silly word)?"  "I'm going to my grandmother's house," she said.  Then the wolf (verb, past tense) away.  When Miss Riding Hood got to her grandmother's house, the wolf was in bed dressed like her grandmother.  "My, Grandmother," she said, "What big (plural noun) you have."  "The better to (verb) you with," said the wolf.  "And Grandmother," she said, "what big (plural noun) you have."  And then she said, "What big (plural noun) you have, Grandmother."  But the wolf said nothing.  He had just died of indigestion from eating Grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, Little Mustard Yellow Riding Hood was going through the forest carrying a basket of insubordinates for her grandmother.  Suddenly, she met a big carmelized wolf.  "Well slurp me sideways!" said the wolf.  "Where are you going, little dropopple?"  "I'm going to my grandmother's house," she said.  Then the wolf ricocheted away.  When Miss Riding Hood got to her grandmother's house, the wolf was in bed dressed like her grandmother.  "My, Grandmother," she said, "What big flashdancers you have."  "The better to delouse you with," said the wolf.  "And Grandmother," she said, "what big man boobs you have."  And then she said, "What big dog attack suits you have, Grandmother."  But the wolf said nothing.  He had just died of indigestion from eating Grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, Little Tangerine Riding Hood was going through the forest carrying a basket of pirated DVDs for her grandmother.  Suddenly, she met a big perfunctory wolf.  "Chicken Butt!" said the wolf.  "Where are you going, little wigwam?"  "I'm going to my grandmother's house," she said.  Then the wolf tortured away.  When Miss Riding Hood got to her grandmother's house, the wolf was in bed dressed like her grandmother.  "My, Grandmother," she said, "What big varicose veins you have."  "The better to shake you with," said the wolf.  "And Grandmother," she said, "what big artificial sweeteners you have."  And then she said, "What big flesh-eating zombies you have, Grandmother."  But the wolf said nothing.  He had just died of indigestion from eating Grandmother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-7004905989545282676?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/7004905989545282676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=7004905989545282676&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7004905989545282676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7004905989545282676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/09/little-red-riding-hood.html' title='Little Red Riding Hood'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-3356719110261416168</id><published>2011-08-26T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T08:07:00.720-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Alexander the Great</title><content type='html'>In 356 BC, Phillip of Macedonia, the ruler of a province in northern Greece, became the father of a bouncing baby (noun) named Alexander.  Alexander's teacher was Aristotle, the famous (noun).  When he was 20 years old, his father was murdered by (celebrity), after which he became (noun) of all Macedonia.  In 334, he invaded Persia and defeated (celebrity) at the battle of (a place).  Later, at Arbela, he won his most important victory over Darius the Third.  This made him (noun) (silly word) over all Persians.  Then he marched to India, and many of his (plural noun) died.  After that, Alexander began drinking too much (liquid), and at the age of 33, he died of an infection in the (part of the body).  His last words are reported to have been, "There are no more (plural noun) to conquer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 356 BC, Phillip of Macedonia, the ruler of a province in northern Greece, became the father of a bouncing baby lady who gets mad if you tell her her slip is showing named Alexander.  Alexander's teacher was Aristotle, the famous unidentified moldy object.  When he was 20 years old, his father was murdered by Dylan McKay, after which he became shrimp cocktail of all Macedonia.  In 334, he invaded Persia and defeated Brandon Walsh at the battle of Sordidville, CA.  Later, at Arbela, he won his most important victory over Darius the Third.  This made him flagellum a gooey gooey gooey over all Persians.  Then he marched to India, and many of his seamed stockings died.  After that, Alexander began drinking too much mysterious goo, and at the age of 33, he died of an infection in the toe.  His last words are reported to have been, "There are no more strawberry tarts to conquer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 356 BC, Phillip of Macedonia, the ruler of a province in northern Greece, became the father of a bouncing baby hummus named Alexander.  Alexander's teacher was Aristotle, the famous guest star on Martha Stewart.  When he was 20 years old, his father was murdered by Mike the Headless Chicken, after which he became Pillsbury dough boy of all Macedonia.  In 334, he invaded Persia and defeated Pauly Shore at the battle of Fruita.  Later, at Arbela, he won his most important victory over Darius the Third.  This made him half-eaten sandwich farfegnugen over all Persians.  Then he marched to India, and many of his sea monkeys died.  After that, Alexander began drinking too much beaten egg, and at the age of 33, he died of an infection in the thumb knuckle.  His last words are reported to have been, "There are no more family trees to conquer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 356 BC, Phillip of Macedonia, the ruler of a province in northern Greece, became the father of a bouncing baby nose picking 3rd grader named Alexander.  Alexander's teacher was Aristotle, the famous trail mix.  When he was 20 years old, his father was murdered by Avril Lavigne, after which he became stuffed hippopotamus of all Macedonia.  In 334, he invaded Persia and defeated Taylor Lautner at the battle of Campus Dorm.  Later, at Arbela, he won his most important victory over Darius the Third.  This made him smelly old gym bag sexified over all Persians.  Then he marched to India, and many of his partay supplies died.  After that, Alexander began drinking too much Dreft detergent, and at the age of 33, he died of an infection in the cuticle.  His last words are reported to have been, "There are no more school fees to conquer."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-3356719110261416168?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/3356719110261416168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=3356719110261416168&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3356719110261416168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3356719110261416168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/08/alexander-great.html' title='Alexander the Great'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1007721039562181139</id><published>2011-08-15T15:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T15:27:07.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry</title><content type='html'>Millie's on vacation again this week!  Enjoy the time off... read your thesaurus!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1007721039562181139?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1007721039562181139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1007721039562181139&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1007721039562181139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1007721039562181139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/08/sorry.html' title='Sorry'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1679974922039761291</id><published>2011-08-12T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T15:26:43.698-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FluffyChicky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><title type='text'>Advertisement</title><content type='html'>Seeking a new career?  Be a (noun) or just look like one!  In just (number) sessions, we can have you (verb ending in ING), (verb ending in ING) and (verb ending in ING) like a top-paying (noun).  Opportunities in this (adjective) field are limitless.  There is no fee!  Just come in for a free consultation.  Our expert (plural noun) will analyze your (noun) and determine your potential for success in this (adjective) field.  Use your natural (noun) to earn (adjective) money and have time to (verb) your dreams too.  Just ask (name of girl in room) who came to us looking like a (noun) out of (noun), and in just ten days we improved her (noun) 100%.  We even corrected her (noun).  It was just in the nick of time because the (silly word) Squad was ready to ban her from the (noun).  Don't wait another day.  Time is running out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fluffychicky said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeking a new career?  Be a scabby elbow or just look like one!  In just 27 sessions, we can have you wafting, spanking and gouging like a top-paying gouty left leg.  Opportunities in this flatulent field are limitless.  There is no fee!  Just come in for a free consultation.  Our expert studmuffins will analyze your "special" brownies and determine your potential for success in this giddy as a schoolboy field.  Use your natural Madmartigan to earn hen-pecked money and have time to masticate your dreams too.  Just ask Helga, who came to us looking like a partially dissected fetal pig out of John Cleese's mustache trimmings, and in just ten days we improved her sewer system 100%.  We even corrected her slightly used Q-tip.  It was just in the nick of time because the Flibbertigibbet Squad was ready to ban her from the sociopathic yoga instructor.  Don't wait another day.  Time is running out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeking a new career?  Be a live toad or just look like one!  In just 372 sessions, we can have you slipping, sassing and discussing like a top-paying split pea soup disaster.  Opportunities in this resentfully submissive field are limitless.  There is no fee!  Just come in for a free consultation.  Our expert jumbo shrimp will analyze your eye muscle spasm and determine your potential for success in this red and chapped field.  Use your natural fit-throwing clinic patient to earn brain-destroying money and have time to expostulate your dreams too.  Just ask Slapped Silly Sally, who came to us looking like a toy poodle out of Benadryl addict, and in just ten days we improved her shopping bag snob 100%.  We even corrected her poisonous mushroom.  It was just in the nick of time because the Gobby-Gobby Squad was ready to ban her from the toe.  Don't wait another day.  Time is running out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1679974922039761291?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1679974922039761291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1679974922039761291&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1679974922039761291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1679974922039761291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/08/advertisement.html' title='Advertisement'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-7909301787832706648</id><published>2011-08-05T17:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T18:42:21.545-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Stacy's Bridal Shower</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I wrote this for my cousin's kitchen-themed shower.&lt;/em&gt;  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome, (adjective) family and friends, to Stacy's wedding shower.  We all wish her and Michael a very (adjective) marriage with many happy (plural noun) to come.  One thing you might not know about Stacy is that her favorite food is (a food), especially if it has (an animal) in it.  She first tasted it at a/an (adjective) Smith family reunion held in (a location) and hasn't stopped eating it since.  Usually she eats it with a (color) (adjective) salad and some (adverb) (verb, past tense) bread.  Yes, it's a/an (adjective) family tradition.  It's prepared by (verb ending in ING) the juice of a (a fruit) and mixing it in a (noun) full of mashed (food).  Then it's baked in a (number)-degree oven for (number) minutes.  It's made by using several important utensils, such as the (kitchen utensil), the (kitchen utensil) and a/an (adjective) (noun).  You can substitute a (noun) in a pinch, but this is not recommended as things might get a little too (adjective).  At any rate, we wish Stacy many (adjective) adventures in her (room of the house) and great times in her kitchen!  We love you Stace!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome, stormy family and friends, to Stacy's wedding shower.  We all wish her and Michael a very zesty marriage with many happy days to come.  One thing you might not know about Stacy is that her favorite food is Rice Krispie treats, especially if it has crab in it.  She first tasted it at a pixie-like Smith family reunion held at San Diego Zoo and hasn't stopped eating it since.  Usually she eats it with an orange hard-as-nails salad and some utterly shocked bread.  Yes, it's a crazed family tradition.  It's prepared by playing the juice of a banana and mixing it in a dog crate full of mashed peanut butter and jam sandwiches.  Then it's baked in a 36-degree oven for 29 minutes.  It's made by using several important utensils, such as the whisk, the cutting knife and an orange umbrella.  You can substitute a pen in a pinch, but this is not recommended as things might get a little too hyper.  At any rate, we wish Stacy many obnoxious adventures in her master closet and great times in her kitchen!  We love you Stace!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome, bongo-playing family and friends, to Stacy's wedding shower.  We all wish her and Michael a very shrimpish marriage with many happy toenail clippers to come.  One thing you might not know about Stacy is that her favorite food is Cheerios, especially if it has a mud wasp in it.  She first tasted it at a twisted and evil Smith family reunion held in the backyard and hasn't stopped eating it since.  Usually she eats it with a sky blue wibble-wobbling salad and some coercingly swatted bread.  Yes, it's a sarcastically laughing family tradition.  It's prepared by gesturing to the juice of a kumquat and mixing it in a Nintendo DS full of mashed mandarin oranges.  Then it's baked in a 273-degree oven for pi minutes.  It's made by using several important utensils, such as the melon baller, the paper towel holder and a drippy-pitted questionable cottage cheese.  You can substitute a Yahtzee game in a pinch, but this is not recommended as things might get a little too regular and happy about it.  At any rate, we wish Stacy many chartreuse adventures in her broom closet and great times in her kitchen!  We love you Stace!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome, gyrating family and friends, to Stacy's wedding shower.  We all wish her and Michael a very sympathetic marriage with many happy stilettos to come.  One thing you might not know about Stacy is that her favorite food is mini quiche, especially if it has bengal tiger in it.  She first tasted it at a green with envy Smith family reunion held in Calvin and Hobbes' treehouse and hasn't stopped eating it since.  Usually she eats it with a fuschia spade-like salad and some despairingly pranced bread.  Yes, it's a maximized family tradition.  It's prepared by leaping over the juice of a kumquat and mixing it in a gorilla glue full of mashed escargot.  Then it's baked in a .173-degree oven for 7568 minutes.  It's made by using several important utensils, such as the corn cob holder, the egg slicer and a nimble pony.  You can substitute a strawberry shortcake in a pinch, but this is not recommended as things might get a little too over the top.  At any rate, we wish Stacy many demonstrative adventures in her secret lab and great times in her kitchen!  We love you Stace!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-7909301787832706648?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/7909301787832706648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=7909301787832706648&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7909301787832706648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7909301787832706648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/08/stacys-bridal-shower.html' title='Stacy&apos;s Bridal Shower'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-8496585276898655489</id><published>2011-07-25T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T00:00:08.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All Hail Girls Camp!</title><content type='html'>Millie's taking the week off!  See you next Monday!  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-8496585276898655489?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/8496585276898655489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=8496585276898655489&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8496585276898655489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8496585276898655489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/07/all-hail-girls-camp.html' title='All Hail Girls Camp!'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-5873260297086202833</id><published>2011-07-22T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T08:25:42.789-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Waitress and Customer</title><content type='html'>Customer: Oh waitress!  Would you please bring me a (noun), I want to see what today's special is.&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: Today's special is (an animal) sauteed in cream of (noun) soup.  Does that sound good?&lt;br /&gt;Customer: No, I'll have the roast prime (plural noun) of beef with the (adjective) pudding.&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: We're out of that.  How about a sizzling sirloin (noun) and a/an (adjective) salad?&lt;br /&gt;Customer: No thanks, I'd rather have the (adjective) fried chicken.&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: Sorry, but we're out of that too.  How about fried (noun)?&lt;br /&gt;Customer: No thanks.  Do you have any roast Long Island (noun)?&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: No, but why don't you try our (adjective) goulash with homemade (noun) sauce?&lt;br /&gt;Customer: Oh, never mind.  Just bring me a/an (adjective) egg sandwich and a cup of black (liquid)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer: Oh waitress!  Would you please bring me a genealogy, I want to see what today's special is.&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: Today's special is bunny sauteed in cream of Babybel Cheese soup.  Does that sound good?&lt;br /&gt;Customer: No, I'll have the roast prime Mad Libs of beef with the awesome pudding.&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: We're out of that.  How about a sizzling sirloin Birkenstock and an intelligent salad?&lt;br /&gt;Customer: No thanks, I'd rather have the funny fried chicken.&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: Sorry, but we're out of that too.  How about fried daisy?&lt;br /&gt;Customer: No thanks.  Do you have any roast Long Island playlist?&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: No, but why don't you try our wonderful goulash with homemade bandana sauce?&lt;br /&gt;Customer: Oh, never mind.  Just bring me a sometimes inappropriate egg sandwich and a cup of black emergency water!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer: Oh waitress!  Would you please bring me a day camp T-shirt, I want to see what today's special is.&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: Today's special is blue jay sauteed in cream of gimp soup.  Does that sound good?&lt;br /&gt;Customer: No, I'll have the roast prime fat, yelling Cub Scout leaders of beef with the rotten pudding.&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: We're out of that.  How about a sizzling sirloin Saturn model and a covered in poison oak salad?&lt;br /&gt;Customer: No thanks, I'd rather have the disobedient fried chicken.&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: Sorry, but we're out of that too.  How about fried farting slime toy?&lt;br /&gt;Customer: No thanks.  Do you have any roast Long Island forgotten lunch?&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: No, but why don't you try our drizzling goulash with homemade annoying staffer sauce?&lt;br /&gt;Customer: Oh, never mind.  Just bring me a Valium-swilling egg sandwich and a cup of black egg whites!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-5873260297086202833?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/5873260297086202833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=5873260297086202833&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5873260297086202833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5873260297086202833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/07/waitress-and-customer.html' title='Waitress and Customer'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-5696054468725595563</id><published>2011-07-15T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T00:00:08.875-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>A Card From Camp</title><content type='html'>Dear Folks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Camp is great!  I love all the (plural noun) in my tent.  I have become as close as two (plural noun) in a pod with (person in room - full name), who has a/an (adjective) personality and is never without a/an (noun).  He/She tells really (adjective) stories which make all of us (verb) out loud.  I have to stop writing now.  I know I promised a long (noun), but this morning I washed my shirts and (article of clothing - plural) and put them out to dry on the clothes (noun), and it looks like it's getting ready to rain cats and (plural noun).  I better get off my (noun) and get my (plural noun) off the (noun) line before I run out of (adjective) underwear.  I promise to write a letter full of (plural noun) before my (part of the body) hits the pillow tonight... or tomorrow... or maybe I'll write Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your loving (noun),&lt;br /&gt;(Another person in room)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Folks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Camp is great!  I love all the mammograms in my tent.  I have become as close as two Crayola Twistables in a pod with Split Lip Linda, who has a kinked up personality and is never without a hammer dropped on a toe.  She tells really scrub-needing stories which make all of us spaz out, out loud.  I have to stop writing now.  I know I promised a long bowling ball, but this morning I washed my shirts and codpieces and put them out to dry on the clothes Christmas crowbar, and it looks like it's getting ready to rain cats and potato eyes.  I better get off my chubby little man and get my blueberry daiquiris off the bowline knot line before I run out of superfluous underwear.  I promise to write a letter full of Bermuda shorts before my nose balls hit the pillow tonight... or tomorrow... or maybe I'll write Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your loving cactus needle,&lt;br /&gt;Sammy Davis, Sr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Folks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Camp is great!  I love all the rutabagas in my tent.  I have become as close as two tractors in a pod with Farmer Inna Dell, who has a squash-like personality and is never without a hoedown.  She tells really John Deere green stories which make all of us spin out loud.  I have to stop writing now.  I know I promised a long barn raising, but this morning I washed my shirts and overalls and put them out to dry on the clothes spade, and it looks like it's getting ready to rain cats and scarecrows.  I better get off my mule and get my fenceposts off the hen house line before I run out of  underwear.  I promise to write a letter full of seeds before my bunion hits the pillow tonight... or tomorrow... or maybe I'll write Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your loving prize winning pig,&lt;br /&gt;Martha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-5696054468725595563?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/5696054468725595563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=5696054468725595563&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5696054468725595563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5696054468725595563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/07/card-from-camp.html' title='A Card From Camp'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6584525642676584641</id><published>2011-07-08T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-08T00:00:00.925-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Letters Parents Hope Get Lost in the Mail</title><content type='html'>Dear Folks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in L.A.  It is (adverb) awesome.  Yesterday, I met the greatest (noun).  He plays (noun) with a (adjective) band.  He has (color) hair and wears a (noun) in his (part of body).  I can't wait for you to meet (name of man), the (noun) of my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your (adjective) daughter,&lt;br /&gt;(Name of woman)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Folks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please send money as (adverb) as possible.  I found a really great surf (noun) for only 150 (Plural noun).  I borrowed the money from my (adjective) girlfriend, who is a life (noun) at the beach and is teaching me to surf nine-(part of body) waves.  Although she is (number) years older than I am, I know she's the right (noun) for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your (adjective) son,&lt;br /&gt;(name of man) (known to my beach friends as The (animal))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Folks, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For your information, I broke my (part of body) surfing, so I returned the surfboard. &lt;br /&gt;P.S. I used the money to get a tattoo on my (part of body).  You'll (verb) it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed, The (same animal) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Folks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in L.A.  It is oppressively awesome.  Yesterday, I met the greatest annoying soup slurp.  He plays bored six-year-old with a hairy band.  He has purple hair and wears a pair of Hanes briefs in his saliva gland.  I can't wait for you to meet I. Lean Sideways, the Nervous Nellie of my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your fat daughter, &lt;br /&gt;Marcia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Folks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please send money as while shrink-wrapped as possible.  I found a really great surf craisin for only 150 slap-worthy whiners.  I borrowed the money from my pasty girlfriend, who is a life-Charlie Brown hairdo at the beach and is teaching me to surf nine-pancreas waves.  Although she is 38 years older than I am, I know she's the right pig snout for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dimpled son,&lt;br /&gt;Roger U. Roundly (known to my beach friends as The Jabiru)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Folks, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For your information, I broke my eyelid surfing, so I returned the surfboard. &lt;br /&gt;P.S. I used the money to get a tattoo on my scalp.  You'll pontificate it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed, The Jabiru&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Folks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in L.A.  It is obtusely awesome.  Yesterday, I met the greatest root canal.  He plays popcorn hull with an afflicted with halitosis band.  He has yellow hair and wears a drill in his wisdom tooth.  I can't wait for you to meet Steve, the molar of my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your sparkling daughter,&lt;br /&gt;Hilda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Folks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please send money as firmly as possible.  I found a really great surf mouthwash for only 150 dollars.  I borrowed the money from my foamy girlfriend, who is a life retainer at the beach and is teaching me to surf nine-tongue waves.  Although she is 807 years older than I am, I know she's the right floss for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your tingly son,&lt;br /&gt;Brian (known to my beach friends as The Saber Tooth Tiger)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Folks, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For your information, I broke my jaw surfing, so I returned the surfboard. &lt;br /&gt;P.S. I used the money to get a tattoo on my gumline.  You'll scrape it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed, The Saber Tooth Tiger&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6584525642676584641?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6584525642676584641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6584525642676584641&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6584525642676584641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6584525642676584641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/07/letters-parents-hope-get-lost-in-mail.html' title='Letters Parents Hope Get Lost in the Mail'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-7373512425550683457</id><published>2011-07-01T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T00:00:01.106-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Darn It Janet'/><title type='text'>Father Goose Rhymes</title><content type='html'>Old Mother Hubbard went to the (noun)&lt;br /&gt;To get her (adjective) (noun) a bone.&lt;br /&gt;When she got there, the (noun) was (adjective),&lt;br /&gt;And so her (adjective) dog had none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack and Jill went up the (noun) &lt;br /&gt;To fetch a/an (container) of water.&lt;br /&gt;Jack fell down and broke his (noun)&lt;br /&gt;And Jill came tumbling after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a little girl and she had a little curl&lt;br /&gt;Right in the middle of her (noun).&lt;br /&gt;When she was (adjective), she was very, very (adjective),&lt;br /&gt;And when she was bad, she was (adjective).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a/an (adjective) woman&lt;br /&gt;Who (verb, past tense) in a shoe.&lt;br /&gt;She had so many (plural noun)&lt;br /&gt;She didn't know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Darn It Janet said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Mother Hubbard went to the snot drip&lt;br /&gt;To get her sick of peanut butter but won't eat anything else, persistent nagging cough a bone.&lt;br /&gt;When she got there, the empty candy wrapper was gaggy,&lt;br /&gt;And so her paper-thin dog had none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack and Jill went up the platypus&lt;br /&gt;To fetch a farty ketchup bottle of water.&lt;br /&gt;Jack fell down and broke his giant vat&lt;br /&gt;And Jill came tumbling after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a little girl and she had a little curl&lt;br /&gt;Right in the middle of her closet Marxist.&lt;br /&gt;When she was horse-laughing, she was very, very splotchy,&lt;br /&gt;And when she was bad, she was omnipotent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a wavering in her resolve woman&lt;br /&gt;Who seethed in a shoe.&lt;br /&gt;She had so many rabid mutts&lt;br /&gt;She didn't know what to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-7373512425550683457?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/7373512425550683457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=7373512425550683457&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7373512425550683457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7373512425550683457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/07/father-goose-rhymes.html' title='Father Goose Rhymes'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-3673095556779442908</id><published>2011-06-24T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T08:04:06.760-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Pool Rools</title><content type='html'>ATTENTION ALL SWIMMERS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to swim in this (noun) or soak in our (adjective) spa, you must follow these (adjective) rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. No nude (verb ending in ING) allowed.  Men must wear (adjective) shorts, and women must wear one-piece bathing (plural nouns) or (adjective) bikinis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. No (plural noun) under the age of (number) are allowed in the (noun) unless accompanied by a (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. (verb ending in ING) in the pool is only permitted in the (adjective) end and only when a life-(noun) is on duty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. People with (adjective) hair must wear bathing (plural noun).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WARNING!  If you plan to sunbathe, (adverb) cover your arms, legs, and (part of the body) with a (adjective) lotion.  You don't want to get a (noun) burn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a (adjective) day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ATTENTION ALL SWIMMERS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to swim in this enormous Nyquil capsule or soak in our needle-nosed spa, you must follow these lobster-resembling rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. No nude gouging allowed.  Men must wear trembling shorts, and women must wear one-piece bathing lamb tongues or searched at the airport bikinis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. No deftly aiming pigeons under the age of 28 are allowed in the sharpened stick unless accompanied by a piano concerto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Squawking in the pool is only permitted in the spanking fresh end and only when a life-screaming-for-water houseplant is on duty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. People with uncertain hair must wear bathing garden weeds.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WARNING!  If you plan to sunbathe, backwardly cover your arms, legs, and aorta with a dresses in period costumes for no discernible reason lotion.  You don't want to get a botched nose job burn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a Star Trek-avoiding day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ATTENTION ALL SWIMMERS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to swim in this dilapidated barn or soak in our besmirched spa, you must follow these rugged rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. No nude pleading allowed.  Men must wear travel stained shorts, and women must wear one-piece bathing prescriptions or imperialistic bikinis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. No subscriptions under the age of 72 are allowed in the grandfather clock unless accompanied by an empty tissue box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Gesturing in the pool is only permitted in the germ ridden end and only when a life-nasal spray is on duty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. People with weathered hair must wear bathing inscriptions.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WARNING!  If you plan to sunbathe, gracefully cover your arms, legs, and earlobe with a musky lotion.  You don't want to get a stopwatch burn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have an idiotic day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-3673095556779442908?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/3673095556779442908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=3673095556779442908&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3673095556779442908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3673095556779442908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/06/pool-rools.html' title='Pool Rools'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-932936560710618110</id><published>2011-06-17T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T17:36:50.423-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='J-Dog'/><title type='text'>A Commercial Message from the Sponsor</title><content type='html'>Friends, have you noticed that your teeth are starting to look (adjective) and (adjective)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's because you've been using the wrong toothpaste.  Chomp Toothpaste will make your teeth (adjective) after only (number) brushings.  That's because Chomp Toothpaste contains "Hex-a-chlor-a-(liquid)," a secret ingredient known to your (adjective) druggist as (name of a toothpaste).  Chomp attacks the (adjective) acids in your mouth and leaves your breath (adjective) and (adjective).  It will make your (noun) feel (adjective) and will also stimulate your (plural noun).  Always keep the familiar (color) tube of Chomp handy in your (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, back to our western program, "Have (noun), Will Travel!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, have you noticed that your teeth are starting to look drop-kicked and addicted to Sims?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's because you've been using the wrong toothpaste.  Chomp Toothpaste will make your teeth plastic and transparent after only 38 brushings.  That's because Chomp Toothpaste contains "Hex-a-chlor-a-slurp," a secret ingredient known to your unimaginably stenchy druggist as Colgate.  Chomp attacks the bird-chirping acids in your mouth and leaves your breath blowin' in the wind and best forgotten.  It will make your potty goer feel cheap and will also stimulate your runaway hogs.  Always keep the familiar taupe tube of Chomp handy in your misfit toy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, back to our western program, "Have Philatelist, Will Travel!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, have you noticed that your teeth are starting to look preposterous and bewildered?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's because you've been using the wrong toothpaste.  Chomp Toothpaste will make your teeth besmirched after only 71 brushings.  That's because Chomp Toothpaste contains "Hex-a-chlor-a-carrot juice," a secret ingredient known to your wildebeest-like druggist as Plaquenator Plus Whitening.  Chomp attacks the numb acids in your mouth and leaves your breath expensive and dandelion yellow.  It will make your battery feel fizzy and will also stimulate your singed eyebrows.  Always keep the familiar taupe tube of Chomp handy in your fishing pole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, back to our western program, "Have Olympic Badminton Coach, Will Travel!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;J-Dog said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, have you noticed that your teeth are starting to look twitchy and demonic?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's because you've been using the wrong toothpaste.  Chomp Toothpaste will make your teeth odd after only 1,234,000,015.76 brushings.  That's because Chomp Toothpaste contains "Hex-a-chlor-a-teriyaki sauce," a secret ingredient known to your bloodshot druggist as Lady Gaga's Signature Plaque Away.  Chomp attacks the inhumane acids in your mouth and leaves your breath rabid and smelly.  It will make your light bulb feel constipated and will also stimulate your severed Muppet heads.  Always keep the familiar puce tube of Chomp handy in your moldy kimono.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, back to our western program, "Have Nyquil Sleepy Time Smoothie, Will Travel!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, have you noticed that your teeth are starting to look orange and cheesy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's because you've been using the wrong toothpaste.  Chomp Toothpaste will make your teeth ridiculous after only 24 brushings.  That's because Chomp Toothpaste contains "Hex-a-chlor-a-shampoo," a secret ingredient known to your super-dee-duper druggist as Crest 3D.  Chomp attacks the sweaty acids in your mouth and leaves your breath fastidious and fatigued.  It will make your speeding train feel rushing and will also stimulate your smelly 30 year old home canned peaches.  Always keep the familiar chartreuse tube of Chomp handy in your long-freaking day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, back to our western program, "Have Lighthouse, Will Travel!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-932936560710618110?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/932936560710618110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=932936560710618110&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/932936560710618110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/932936560710618110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/06/commercial-message-from-sponsor.html' title='A Commercial Message from the Sponsor'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-5321398993844020374</id><published>2011-06-10T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T00:00:05.743-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Page from an Analyst's Notebook</title><content type='html'>This is the case history of (name of fellow in room) who is suffering from a/an (noun) complex.  He also has abnormal fears of (plural noun) and (adjective) schizophrenia.  As a child, he had a/an (adjective) mother who never let him (verb) outside and paid no attention to his (plural noun).  Also, his father refused to let him play little league (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he was (number) years old, his (an animal) ran away on a rainy night which is why he (verb ending in S) at the moon during thunderstorms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's no wonder that today he never leaves the (noun), spends all his time watching (a sport) on TV while eating boxes of (an animal) biscuits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the case history of Tyrone who is suffering from a cavity complex.  He also has abnormal fears of chocolate chips and swirling schizophrenia.  As a child, he had an effortless mother who never let him trudge outside and paid no attention to his vitamins.  Also, his father refused to let him play little league beanie baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he was .176 years old, his jackalope ran away on a rainy night which is why he grimaces at the moon during thunderstorms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's no wonder that today he never leaves the cracked wheat cereal, spends all his time watching croquet on TV while eating boxes of hippo biscuits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the case history of the Earl of Sandwich who is suffering from a woman in 7-B complex.  He also has abnormal fears of lickspittles and rapidly snarfed schizophrenia.  As a child, he had a winking at nothing mother who never let him impersonate outside and paid no attention to his tar bubbles.  Also, his father refused to let him play little league mozzarella cheese stick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he was 234 years old, his duck ran away on a rainy night which is why he profligates at the moon during thunderstorms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's no wonder that today he never leaves the ginormous stankwad, spends all his time watching cow-tipping on TV while eating boxes of monkey armpit mite biscuits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the case history of Kid Rock who is suffering from a crazy music video complex.  He also has abnormal fears of insurance companies and peanut buttery schizophrenia.  As a child, he had a flowy mother who never let him rap outside and paid no attention to his candy bars.  Also, his father refused to let him play little league Justin Bieber.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he was 21 years old, his aardvark ran away on a rainy night which is why he sings at the moon during thunderstorms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's no wonder that today he never leaves the dorky commercial, spends all his time watching rugby on TV while eating boxes of canine biscuits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-5321398993844020374?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/5321398993844020374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=5321398993844020374&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5321398993844020374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5321398993844020374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/06/page-from-analysts-notebook.html' title='Page from an Analyst&apos;s Notebook'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1439296622853869109</id><published>2011-06-03T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T00:00:05.727-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Letter of Complaint</title><content type='html'>Dear Sir or (noun), &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just spent a miserable weekend at your (adjective) hotel.  Your advertisement in my hometown (noun) was an outrageous (noun).  You said you provided guests with a welcome basket of (plural noun).  All I found in my room was a trash (noun) filled with old (plural noun).  You also claimed to offer free overnight (verb ending in "ING") in your garage.  Not true, Fella.  Your garage was all filled up, and I had to park my new (noun) across the street in a vacant (noun).  It was stolen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about your hotel staff - they were (adverb) inadequate.  Your so-called expert masseur not only stuck a finger in my (noun), but he broke two of my (part of the body - plural) while giving me a Swedish (noun).  Your room service was a/an (adjective) joke!  They not only served burnt (noun) but spilled a hot cup of (noun) all over my newly pressed (noun).  I had to go to a business meeting wearing a/an (noun)!  I'm planning to sue you for a million (plural noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt; (Yay!  You're back!)&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sir or Grandbaby, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just spent a miserable weekend at your smelly hotel.  Your advertisement in my hometown burp diaper was an outrageous chihuahua.  You said you provided guests with a welcome basket of poopy diapers.  All I found in my room was a trash schnauzer/shi tzu mix dog filled with old pulled pork sandwiches.  You also claimed to offer free overnight flooding in your garage.  Not true, Fella.  Your garage was all filled up, and I had to park my new Provo Canyon across the street in a vacant sidewalk.  It was stolen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about your hotel staff - they were much inadequate.  Your so-called expert masseur not only stuck a finger in my rainy day, but he broke two of my nostrils while giving me a Swedish hand sanitizer.  Your room service was an adorable joke!  They not only served burnt scrapbook but spilled a hot cup of relaxing drive all over my newly pressed flour canister.  I had to go to a business meeting wearing a potsticker!  I'm planning to sue you for a million bean burritos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sir or Ketchup Stain, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just spent a miserable weekend at your low on funds hotel.  Your advertisement in my hometown sap drip was an outrageous kitty trousers.  You said you provided guests with a welcome basket of cherry pies.  All I found in my room was a trash creep in the lingerie aisle filled with old stake high councilors.  You also claimed to offer free overnight wafting in your garage.  Not true, Fella.  Your garage was all filled up, and I had to park my new death breath across the street in a vacant tall drink of water.  It was stolen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about your hotel staff - they were subversively inadequate.  Your so-called expert masseur not only stuck a finger in my usurped PTA president, but he broke two of my tootsies while giving me a Swedish four-leaf clover.  Your room service was an offended by E.T. joke!  They not only served burnt Beach Boy but spilled a hot cup of country song about going into rehab all over my newly pressed turkey neck.  I had to go to a business meeting wearing a suspicious brown crumb!  I'm planning to sue you for a million corn on the cob holders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sir or Telescope, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just spent a miserable weekend at your creepy hotel.  Your advertisement in my hometown ski mask was an outrageous gag.  You said you provided guests with a welcome basket of zip ties.  All I found in my room was a trash chloroform filled with old rubber gloves.  You also claimed to offer free overnight pleading in your garage.  Not true, Fella.  Your garage was all filled up, and I had to park my new Polaroid camera across the street in a vacant ransom note written with poorly cut out letters from a magazine.  It was stolen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about your hotel staff - they were horrifyingly inadequate.  Your so-called expert masseur not only stuck a finger in my lock pick, but he broke two of my fingerprints while giving me a Swedish taser.  Your room service was a stealthy joke!  They not only served burnt getaway car but spilled a hot cup of duct tape all over my newly pressed rope.  I had to go to a business meeting wearing a black sweatsuit!  I'm planning to sue you for a million shoes with common treads.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1439296622853869109?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1439296622853869109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1439296622853869109&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1439296622853869109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1439296622853869109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/06/letter-of-complaint.html' title='Letter of Complaint'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1165629033810151583</id><published>2011-05-30T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T00:00:04.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>May 30</title><content type='html'>12 nouns &lt;br /&gt;2 adjectives &lt;br /&gt;3 plural nouns &lt;br /&gt;Verb ending in "ING"&lt;br /&gt;Adverb&lt;br /&gt;Part of the body - plural&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1165629033810151583?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1165629033810151583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1165629033810151583&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1165629033810151583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1165629033810151583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/05/may-30.html' title='May 30'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6400845698013189852</id><published>2011-05-27T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-27T08:00:06.856-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Bringing Home the Good (Or Is It Bad?) News</title><content type='html'>Dear Parent,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is (person in room)'s report card for the (adjective) eighth grade. He/she has received a/an (letter) in English, a/an (letter) in Mathematics, and an A in Social (plural noun). Unfortunately, we could not give a passing (noun) in (noun) Education because his/her broken (body part) prevented the taking of the final (noun). This (adjective) class can be made up in our summer (noun). The school believes a "parent-(noun)" conference is necessary to discuss (same person in room)'s (adjective) behavior. He/She continues to draw (adjective) pictures on the bathroom (noun) and talks (adverb) behind the teacher's (body part). Please call the principal's (noun) for a/an (adjective) appointment immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;Mr./Ms. (another person in room)&lt;br /&gt;Head (occupation)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Parent,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the ghost of Aunt Ahra's report card for the eats-then-leaves eighth grade. She has received a K in English, a W in Mathematics, and an A in Social Shaved Legs.  Unfortunately, we could not give a passing basket case in Nosy Telephone Operator Education because her broken toe prevented the taking of the final giant souvenir pencil. This Bart Simpson-resembling class can be made up in our summer brownie crumb. The school believes a "parent-extremely rude house guest" conference is necessary to discuss the ghost of Aunt Ahra's mannequin pose mocking behavior. She continues to draw winged pictures on the bathroom hummingbird beak and talks awkwardly behind the teacher's medulla oblongata. Please call the principal's smart aleck remark for a poker-faced appointment immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Fred Ferd&lt;br /&gt;Head Cupid Portrayer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Parent,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Ingrid's report card for the busty eighth grade. She has received an X in English, a Z in Mathematics, and an A in Social Placebos. Unfortunately, we could not give a passing crop duster in Menagerie Education because her broken nostril prevented the taking of the final Sonic screwdriver. This crusty class can be made up in our summer flip flop. The school believes a "parent-monkey" conference is necessary to discuss Ingrid's dusty behavior.  She continues to draw lusty pictures on the bathroom avocado and talks fiestily behind the teacher's clavicle. Please call the principal's Mars for a musty appointment immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;Ms. Ingeborg&lt;br /&gt;Head Goatherd&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6400845698013189852?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6400845698013189852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6400845698013189852&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6400845698013189852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6400845698013189852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/05/bringing-home-good-or-is-it-bad-news.html' title='Bringing Home the Good (Or Is It Bad?) News'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-4622289521842751183</id><published>2011-05-20T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T16:23:33.139-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Smoking Cigarettes</title><content type='html'>Medical science has discovered that smoking cigarettes causes (type of disease). It is also bad for your (noun) and causes pains in the (part of the body). When mice and dogs were exposed to (adjective) cigarette smoke, they developed (person in room)’s disease. Tobacco companies have put charcoal (plural noun) on the ends of cigarettes, but they still spend millions of (plural noun) advertising their (nasty adjective) product. If you smoke cigarettes, the tobacco will leave all kinds of tar and (plural noun) in your lungs. This will make you cough and say, “(exclamation)!” Don’t smoke cigarettes. Remember, only (plural noun) smoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medical science has discovered that smoking cigarettes causes hypertrichosis. It is also bad for your beauty school and causes pains in the big toe. When mice and dogs were exposed to unsightly cigarette smoke, they developed Pablo’s disease. Tobacco companies have put charcoal bunions on the ends of cigarettes, but they still spend millions of eyebrows advertising their putrescent product. If you smoke cigarettes, the tobacco will leave all kinds of tar and teeth in your lungs. This will make you cough and say, “Holy Doilies Grandma!” Don’t smoke cigarettes. Remember, only midgets smoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medical science has discovered that smoking cigarettes causes Monkey Gut. It is also bad for your Silly String and causes pains in the pancreas. When mice and dogs were exposed to elastic cigarette smoke, they developed Disgruntled Gretel’s disease. Tobacco companies have put charcoal punched-out lights on the ends of cigarettes, but they still spend millions of naysayers advertising their icky-poo product. If you smoke cigarettes, the tobacco will leave all kinds of tar and edible socks in your lungs. This will make you cough and say, “Ouch!  My Butt!” Don’t smoke cigarettes. Remember, only 14-month-olds smoke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-4622289521842751183?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/4622289521842751183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=4622289521842751183&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4622289521842751183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4622289521842751183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/05/smoking-cigarettes.html' title='Smoking Cigarettes'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-7526747211511302015</id><published>2011-05-13T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T10:52:54.777-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><title type='text'>How To Do That New Dance, the Monstrosity</title><content type='html'>Here's how you do the Monstrosity.  First, stand with your feet together.  Now move your left foot (adverb) to the side.  Now stamp your right foot (number) times and put your hands on your partner's (plural noun).  Next, you both (verb) slowly to the right and bend your (part of the body) backward.  Now for the next eight counts, both of you (verb) (adverb) to the left.  Next, you and your partner stand back to back and wiggle your (plural noun) and slap your (plural noun) together.  Don't forget to keep stamping your right foot.  Now face your partner again, put your (plural noun) together and shout, "(nonsense word)!"  Now (verb) backward and repeat the whole thing (number) times.  If you feel that you can't learn this dance, you can always (verb) the next one out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how you do the Monstrosity.  First, stand with your feet together.  Now move your left foot snippily to the side.  Now stamp your right foot 287 times and put your hands on your partner's cranky old bus drivers.  Next, you both sip slowly to the right and bend your elbow pudge backward.  Now for the next eight counts, both of you slap sunglasses-wearingly to the left.  Next, you and your partner stand back to back and wiggle your bored children and slap your toenail clippers together.  Don't forget to keep stamping your right foot.  Now face your partner again, put your wedgies together and shout, "Malloopy-loopy!"  Now spank backward and repeat the whole thing 8.1 times.  If you feel that you can't learn this dance, you can always throttle the next one out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-7526747211511302015?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/7526747211511302015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=7526747211511302015&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7526747211511302015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7526747211511302015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/05/how-to-do-that-new-dance-monstrosity.html' title='How To Do That New Dance, the Monstrosity'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1718519761974022231</id><published>2011-05-06T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T08:00:07.046-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Bird Watching and Vice Versa</title><content type='html'>Bird watching can be more fun than a barrel of (plural noun). Our (adjective) feathered friends are everywhere, waiting to be watched. An interesting bird to start with is the (adjective) oriole, which builds its nest in (noun) trees. Early in spring we hear the oriole give its mating call, which sounds like this: "(funny noise)." Then the male and female get together and (verb). Later, the female lays (number) eggs. Isn't that (adjective)? Another fascinating bird is the (adjective)-breasted nuthatch. The nuthatch is very tame. He will fly down and land right on your (noun), and eat out of your (plural noun). Other birds to watch out for are the red-crested (noun), the (adjective)-necked thrush, and the yellow-bellied (adjective) sucker. Now that you know something about birds - get out there and watch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bird watching can be more fun than a barrel of birthers. Our repeatedly sniffed feathered friends are everywhere, waiting to be watched. An interesting bird to start with is the knocked sideways oriole, which builds its nest in deformed mouse trees. Early in spring we hear the oriole give its mating call, which sounds like this: "CRANG." Then the male and female get together and Snoopy dance. Later, the female lays 273 eggs. Isn't that Froot Loops-loving? Another fascinating bird is the upset-breasted nuthatch. The nuthatch is very tame. He will fly down and land right on your wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, and eat out of your angry cockroaches. Other birds to watch out for are the red-crested questionable cold sore, the left out in the rain-necked thrush, and the yellow-bellied scorched sucker. Now that you know something about birds - get out there and watch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bird watching can be more fun than a barrel of Pilates instructors. Our steam powered feathered friends are everywhere, waiting to be watched. An interesting bird to start with is the vacuum sealed oriole, which builds its nest in Golden Globe Award trees. Early in spring we hear the oriole give its mating call, which sounds like this: "beeeeeeellllllch." Then the male and female get together and ruminate. Later, the female lays 17 eggs. Isn't that superfluous? Another fascinating bird is the dipped in chocolate-breasted nuthatch. The nuthatch is very tame. He will fly down and land right on your stainless steel vat, and eat out of your donut holes. Other birds to watch out for are the red-crested underpaid airline pat-down technician, the flame retardant-necked thrush, and the yellow-bellied sequinned sucker. Now that you know something about birds - get out there and watch!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1718519761974022231?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1718519761974022231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1718519761974022231&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1718519761974022231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1718519761974022231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/05/bird-watching-and-vice-versa.html' title='Bird Watching and Vice Versa'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-9081067615485025261</id><published>2011-04-29T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-29T00:00:09.378-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Charity Drive Letter</title><content type='html'>Dear (name of person),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure you've heard of our organization, "The Society for the Prevention of (adjective) (plural nouns)."  We are currently having a drive to raise (number) dollars to build an up-to-date (noun) for underprivileged (plural noun).  I know that as one of the leading (plural noun) of your community, you will want to contribute to this (adjective) cause.  Our president, (celebrity), and our treasurer, (celebrity), have been connected with many (adjective) charities.  They urge you to reach down into your (noun) and give.  Even if it's only a (noun).  The money will finance our (adjective) out-patient clinic where anyone who thinks he has (liquid) in his (plural noun) can come and have our (adjective) doctors x-ray his (noun).  Eventually we hope to stamp out (plural noun) altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Signed) (name of person)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Ferdinand,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure you've heard of our organization, "The Society for the Prevention of Loudly Slurped Red-headed Stepchildren."  We are currently having a drive to raise 382 dollars to build an up-to-date gutless flipflopper for underprivileged egg cups.  I know that as one of the leading sweat pockets of your community, you will want to contribute to this 700 Club-avoiding cause.  Our president, Phil Donahue, and our treasurer, Olivia de Havilland, have been connected with many plum blossom-carpeted charities.  They urge you to reach down into your obnoxious hallway bra-snapper and give.  Even if it's only a twit.  The money will finance our squeaking unintelligibly out-patient clinic where anyone who thinks he has ripe melon ooze in his origami experiments can come and have our spanking fresh doctors x-ray his forgotten sack lunch.  Eventually we hope to stamp out cows altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Signed) Marchetta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Fred,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure you've heard of our organization, "The Society for the Prevention of Spherical Aebelskiver."  We are currently having a drive to raise 17 dollars to build an up-to-date baby carrot for underprivileged fences.  I know that as one of the leading helicopters of your community, you will want to contribute to this syrupy cause.  Our president, Bozo the Clown, and our treasurer, Cher, have been connected with many speckled charities.  They urge you to reach down into your pudding cup and give.  Even if it's only a ball peen hammer.  The money will finance our delicious out-patient clinic where anyone who thinks he has formaldehyde in his singing sensations can come and have our ape-like doctors x-ray his rutabaga.  Eventually we hope to stamp out trapeze artists altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Signed) Wilma&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-9081067615485025261?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/9081067615485025261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=9081067615485025261&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/9081067615485025261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/9081067615485025261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/04/charity-drive-letter.html' title='Charity Drive Letter'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-7865935597922500956</id><published>2011-04-22T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T00:00:01.769-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Easter</title><content type='html'>Easter vacations usually fall around Easter time.  The schools are closed and all the (plural noun) get (number) weeks off.  The (adjective) teachers also get a vacation.  There are a lot of things to do on Easter vacation.  Some kids loaf around and watch the (noun).  Others get outside and play (a game), while more ambitious students spend their time studying their (adjective) books so they will grow up to become (plural noun).  Little kids also color (adjective) eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how you color an egg: First mix a package of (adjective) dye in a bowl full of (liquid).  Then dip the (noun) in the bowl and rinse it off with (liquid).  Then after it dries, you can paint on it with a brush.  Then you show it to your friends who will say, "Boy, what a/an (adjective) egg!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter vacations usually fall around Easter time.  The schools are closed and all the hedgehogs get 8.73 weeks off.  The gregarious teachers also get a vacation.  There are a lot of things to do on Easter vacation.  Some kids loaf around and watch the tour guide.  Others get outside and play Break the Safe, while more ambitious students spend their time studying their sparkly books so they will grow up to become shoe horns.  Little kids also color liver-spotted eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how you color an egg: First mix a package of swirly-warranting dye in a bowl full of hand lotion.  Then dip the crop duster in the bowl and rinse it off with carbonated spinach juice.  Then after it dries, you can paint on it with a brush.  Then you show it to your friends who will say, "Boy, what a boss egg!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter vacations usually fall around Easter time.  The schools are closed and all the mountains get 44 weeks off.  The fuschia teachers also get a vacation.  There are a lot of things to do on Easter vacation.  Some kids loaf around and watch the Jeep.  Others get outside and play Double Dutch Jump Rope, while more ambitious students spend their time studying their flirty books so they will grow up to become babies.  Little kids also color fast eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how you color an egg: First mix a package of silent dye in a bowl full of Clorox Bleach.  Then dip the Rock in the bowl and rinse it off with apple juice.  Then after it dries, you can paint on it with a brush.  Then you show it to your friends who will say, "Boy, what a happy egg!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter vacations usually fall around Easter time.  The schools are closed and all the palm fronds get 835 weeks off.  The sniffing repeatedly teachers also get a vacation.  There are a lot of things to do on Easter vacation.  Some kids loaf around and watch the scalp scab.  Others get outside and play Button, Button, Who's Got the Button?, while more ambitious students spend their time studying their obsessed with Scotland books so they will grow up to become seaweed jumpropes.  Little kids also color red-blinking eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how you color an egg: First mix a package of caterpillar-resembling dye in a bowl full of snot.  Then dip the light bulb in the bowl and rinse it off with grenadine.  Then after it dries, you can paint on it with a brush.  Then you show it to your friends who will say, "Boy, what a mustachioed egg!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-7865935597922500956?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/7865935597922500956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=7865935597922500956&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7865935597922500956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7865935597922500956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/04/easter.html' title='Easter'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-3405373184329985085</id><published>2011-04-15T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T09:14:29.299-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><title type='text'>Advice to Prospective Parents</title><content type='html'>Congratulations to all of you (adjective) mothers and (adjective) fathers.  You are about to give birth to a/an (noun).  Remember, a happy child comes from a happy (noun).  Undoubtedly, the (noun) will cause many changes in your life.  You'll have to get up at four a.m. to give the little (noun) its bottle of (adjective) milk.  Later, when he's (number) years old, he'll learn to walk and you'll hear the patter of little (plural noun) around the house.  And in no time he'll be talking (adverb) and calling you his "(noun)" and "(noun)."  It's no wonder they are called little bundles of (plural noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations to all of you socially unaware mothers and fakey-voiced fathers.  You are about to give birth to a rhino horn.  Remember, a happy child comes from a happy skeptical eyebrow lifter.  Undoubtedly, the knuckle hair will cause many changes in your life.  You'll have to get up at four a.m. to give the little dried out deodorant cake its bottle of two sizes too small milk.  Later, when he's 12 years old, he'll learn to walk and you'll hear the patter of little workplace restroom frequenters who feel comfortable conversing while pottying around the house.  And in no time he'll be talking belchingly and calling you his "nonpareil" and "snobby Mayflower descendant."  It's no wonder they are called little bundles of questionable taste in music.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-3405373184329985085?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/3405373184329985085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=3405373184329985085&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3405373184329985085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3405373184329985085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/04/advice-to-prospective-parents.html' title='Advice to Prospective Parents'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-5212915093561976040</id><published>2011-04-08T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-08T00:00:09.086-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Horoscope</title><content type='html'>Those born under the planetary sign of the (noun) possess (adjective) personalities and are forever searching for new (plural noun) to conquer.  This is a more or less (adjective) month for you because the planet (silly word) is directly over your (noun) and Mercury is influencing your (plural noun).  This means you should avoid eating (plural noun) and stay away from anybody with (adjective) (plural noun).  During the coming year you will find conditions getting (adjective) due to your (adjective) outlook on life and your (adjective) attitude toward (plural noun).  You are best suited to a (adjective) mate with (adjective) (plural noun) and a (adjective) complexion, which means, of course, that you can look forward to a really (adjective) life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those born under the planetary sign of the chimpanzee possess purple personalities and are forever searching for new siblings to conquer.  This is a more or less stretchy month for you because the planet Sesquipedalian is directly over your rutabaga and Mercury is influencing your aliens.  This means you should avoid eating farmers and stay away from anybody with aboriginal Christmas lights.  During the coming year you will find conditions getting mustache-wearing due to your dappled outlook on life and your slimy attitude toward rubber gloves.  You are best suited to an adequate mate with expectant M&amp;Ms and a slim complexion, which means, of course, that you can look forward to a really sour-faced life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those born under the planetary sign of the lame billing department possess glowing personalities and are forever searching for new Mogadorians to conquer.  This is a more or less fruity month for you because the planet Lady GaGa is directly over your Crazy 8 store and Mercury is influencing your travelers.  This means you should avoid eating Lorien Symbols and stay away from anybody with warm and vanilla-y aliens.  During the coming year you will find conditions getting ice cold due to your freakin' outlook on life and your tired attitude toward new cars.  You are best suited to a huddled mate with loud snowflakes and a lousy complexion, which means, of course, that you can look forward to a really smelly life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those born under the planetary sign of the shrinkage possess rhymes like Dr. Seuss personalities and are forever searching for new misguided Obama supporters to conquer.  This is a more or less oddly protruding month for you because the planet Flagellum is directly over your slurped soup and Mercury is influencing your plum tarts.  This means you should avoid eating old coots and stay away from anybody with Honeycomb cereal-horfing goobies.  During the coming year you will find conditions getting light switchy due to your pants optional outlook on life and your crispy attitude toward public butt pinchers.  You are best suited to a shifty-eyed mate with frequently bamboozled wooden legs named Smith and a razor-tailed complexion, which means, of course, that you can look forward to a really can't spare a square life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-5212915093561976040?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/5212915093561976040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=5212915093561976040&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5212915093561976040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5212915093561976040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/04/horoscope.html' title='Horoscope'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-4414111181553831095</id><published>2011-04-01T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T00:00:09.299-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Newspaper Ads</title><content type='html'>FOR SALE: 1957 Sedan.  This (adjective) car is in a (adjective) condition.  It was formerly owned by a (adjective) school teacher who always drove it (adverb).  There is a (adjective) (noun) in the back seat and a chrome (noun) on the hood.  It has a (adjective) paint job, (adjective) tires, and the back opens out into a (adjective) (noun).  Will consider taking slightly used (noun) in trade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOST: In the vicinity of (geographical location), a (adjective) French poodle with (adjective) hair and a (adjective) tail.  It answers to the name of (name of person) and when last seen was carrying a (noun) in its mouth.  A (adjective) reward is offered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOR SALE: 1957 Sedan.  This petulant car is in an uncanny condition.  It was formerly owned by a flippant school teacher who always drove it famously.  There is a grandiose potbelled pig in the back seat and a chrome pitchfork on the hood.  It has a snarky paint job, melodramatic tires, and the back opens out into an albino petunia.  Will consider taking slightly used aardvark in trade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOST: In the vicinity of Boring, OR, a back-biting French poodle with sarcastic hair and a purified tail.  It answers to the name of Jeeves and when last seen was carrying a dishwasher in its mouth.  A toxic reward is offered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOR SALE: 1957 Sedan.  This Texas-sized car is in a ridiculous condition.  It was formerly owned by a froglike school teacher who always drove it poorly.  There is a hostile bad love song in the back seat and a chrome annoying ring tone on the hood.  It has a far-fetched paint job, fresh tires, and the back opens out into a broken precocious animal.  Will consider taking slightly used duck poop in trade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOST: In the vicinity of Manti La Sal Mountains, an orange French poodle with snotty hair and an epic tail.  It answers to the name of Cher and when last seen was carrying an escape artist in its mouth.  A dark reward is offered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOR SALE: 1957 Sedan.  This brassaholic car is in a fire-breathing condition.  It was formerly owned by a pointless school teacher who always drove it drunkenly.  There is a persnickety yearly bather in the back seat and a chrome shyster on the hood.  It has a candle-obsessed paint job, invisible tires, and the back opens out into a slave-driving hypochondriac.  Will consider taking slightly used singer of horribly catchy songs in trade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOST: In the vicinity of Passamaquoddy, a bought-for-$50 French poodle with cave-dwelling hair and a conniving tail.  It answers to the name of Pete and when last seen was carrying a fingernail in its mouth.  A green reward is offered.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-4414111181553831095?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/4414111181553831095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=4414111181553831095&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4414111181553831095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4414111181553831095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/04/newspaper-ads.html' title='Newspaper Ads'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-2900892919401827461</id><published>2011-03-25T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-25T10:13:00.160-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Student Protest</title><content type='html'>Fellow Students of (school)!  We the members of the Students for a (adjective) Society are meeting here to decide what action to take about the Dean of (plural noun).  He has just fired our friend, Professor (name of man), because he wore his (part of body) long, and because he dressed in a (article of clothing) and wore old (plural noun).  Next week, we are going to protest by taking over the (noun) building and kidnapping the Assistant (noun).  We also will demand that all students have the right to wear (adjective) hair and (adjective) beards.  Remember our slogan: "Down with (plural noun)!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fellow Students of Sally Sitwell's School of Poise and Posture!  We the members of the Students for a Treat-obsessed Society are meeting here to decide what action to take about the Dean of Hip-swayers.  He has just fired our friend, Professor Horatio Inkblot, because he wore his cute pink man ear long, and because he dressed in rainbow suspenders and wore old, unruly roosters that crow all day long.  Next week, we are going to protest by taking over the slimy pig nose building and kidnapping the Assistant Dial Tone.  We also will demand that all students have the right to wear moss-covered hair and angry-at-clouds beards.  Remember our slogan: "Down with secretly sipped drinks!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fellow Students of Rosalie's Refining Academy for Girls!  We the members of the Students for a Crunchy Society are meeting here to decide what action to take about the Dean of Rawhide Dog Treats.  He has just fired our friend, Professor Sergeant Gibbs, because he wore his belly button long, and because he dressed in a flip flop and wore old long days.  Next week, we are going to protest by taking over the new video building and kidnapping the Assistant Ballet Slipper.  We also will demand that all students have the right to wear tired hair and boring beards.  Remember our slogan: "Down with hundreds of BeJeweled games!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fellow Students of The Grimm Brothers' School for Repentant Fairy Tale Villains!  We the members of the Students for a Winged Society are meeting here to decide what action to take about the Dean of Gingerbread Houses.  He has just fired our friend, Professor Westley the Farm Boy, because he wore his webby place between your toes long, and because he dressed in a mask and wore old breadcrumbs.  Next week, we are going to protest by taking over the Father's Sword building and kidnapping the Assistant Oven Belonging to an Evil Witch.  We also will demand that all students have the right to wear home cooked hair and kiln dried beards.  Remember our slogan: "Down with evil stepmothers!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-2900892919401827461?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/2900892919401827461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=2900892919401827461&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2900892919401827461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2900892919401827461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/03/student-protest.html' title='Student Protest'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1246758664665750283</id><published>2011-03-18T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T08:00:00.925-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Fable</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time a (adjective) (noun) expert named (name of person) felt a (adjective) pain.  He sent for a (adjective) surgeon who looked at his (adjective) stomach and said, "(exclamation)!"  Then he muttered (adverb), "I see your trouble.  The (noun) on your (adjective) stomach is overlapping the (noun) next to your kidney."  The surgeon (adverb) took him to the (adjective) operating room of the hospital.  There he made a (adjective) incision reaching from the patient's (noun) to his (noun).  "(Exclamation)!" said the surgeon.  "That takes care of that (adjective) (noun)."  With that, he began sewing up the incision.  However, on the tenth stitch the patient sneezed and almost pulled the (noun) out of the (noun), but the surgeon took one final stitch and saved the (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL: A (noun) in time saves nine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time a pink polka-dotted pirate expert named Dudley felt a fur-lined pain.  He sent for a nautically inspired surgeon who looked at his groovy stomach and said, "Holy Hot Cocoa!"  Then he muttered emphatically, "I see your trouble.  The sous chef on your ardent stomach is overlapping the baby carrot next to your kidney."  The surgeon squelchingly took him to the lost in the Bermuda Triangle operating room of the hospital.  There he made a spindly incision reaching from the patient's weiner dog to his IRS agent being pursued by angry taxpayers.  "Serendipitous!" said the surgeon.  "That takes care of that effervescent rubber raft."  With that, he began sewing up the incision.  However, on the tenth stitch the patient sneezed and almost pulled the water wings out of the school bus converted into a mobile home, but the surgeon took one final stitch and saved the sledgehammer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL: A Canadian mountie in time saves nine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time a torn up radiation fear expert named Muammar Gaddafi felt a soured pain.  He sent for a disputed surgeon who looked at his minty flavor stomach and said, "Holy Batman!"  Then he muttered blithely, "I see your trouble.  The tsunami on your brand spanking new stomach is overlapping the nuclear reactor next to your kidney."  The surgeon assiduously took him to the fluffy operating room of the hospital.  There he made a not-quite-done incision reaching from the patient's birthday boy to his adorable puppy.  "What the cabbage!" said the surgeon.  "That takes care of that kiwi-eating magazine stack."  With that, he began sewing up the incision.  However, on the tenth stitch the patient sneezed and almost pulled the purported progress out of the dog toy, but the surgeon took one final stitch and saved the smelly shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL: A barking dog in time saves nine.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time a screwed up goat nostril expert named Love Handle Larry felt an always tardy pain.  He sent for a booger-coated surgeon who looked at his flummoxed stomach and said, "What the WHAAAAA?!"  Then he muttered perspiringly, "I see your trouble.  The unwanted pencil on your Snow White costume-wearing stomach is overlapping the Burgerville milkshake next to your kidney."  The surgeon lip-smackingly took him to the yellow and questionable operating room of the hospital.  There he made an eyeball-less incision reaching from the patient's cavity creep to his teenager in love.  "Keep that guy away from my cocaine!" said the surgeon.  "That takes care of that minty fresh wet trampoline that splashes when you jump."  With that, he began sewing up the incision.  However, on the tenth stitch the patient sneezed and almost pulled the T-shirt gun out of the frostbite, but the surgeon took one final stitch and saved the Fox News-watching and paranoid old man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL: A paramedic in time saves nine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1246758664665750283?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1246758664665750283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1246758664665750283&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1246758664665750283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1246758664665750283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/03/fable.html' title='Fable'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-3532901641271734957</id><published>2011-03-11T19:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T13:59:55.748-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mel Smell'/><title type='text'>Ireland</title><content type='html'>Ireland is a beautiful, green island lying directly west of (place).  In 250 B.C., Ireland was inhabited by short, dark (plural noun) who were later called "Picts."  They intermarried with (adjective) Vikings and with Celts who were (plural noun) from Northern Europe.  In 1846, a blight ruined the (noun) crop in Ireland and over a million Irishmen migrated to the United States.  Many of their descendants have become very important American (plural noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Irish are noted for their poetry and songs.  Some of these Irish songs are: "When Irish (plural noun) are Smiling," "Did Your (noun) Come From Ireland?" and "McNamara's (noun)."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thousands of American tourists go to Ireland every year to visit its capital, (place), and buy Irish linen (plural noun), and see the beautiful (plural noun) and lakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mel Smell said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ireland is a beautiful, green island lying directly west of the Breast Reduction Clinic.  In 250 B.C., Ireland was inhabited by short, dark butt snots who were later called "Picts."  They intermarried with licks everything to claim it Vikings and with Celts who were old lady hosiery from Northern Europe.  In 1846, a blight ruined the constant wedgie crop in Ireland and over a million Irishmen migrated to the United States.  Many of their descendants have become very important American armpit tattoos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Irish are noted for their poetry and songs.  Some of these Irish songs are: "When Irish Annoying Noise-making Mothers are Smiling," "Did Your Week-old Depends Come From Ireland?" and "McNamara's Kitty Winker Perfume."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thousands of American tourists go to Ireland every year to visit its capital, Undie Stain Steam-Cleaning Factory, and buy Irish linen gerbil tank tops, and see the beautiful naughty baby snot bubbles and lakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ireland is a beautiful, green island lying directly west of the Lost City of Atlantis.  In 250 B.C., Ireland was inhabited by short, dark unicorns who were later called "Picts."  They intermarried with mythical Vikings and with Celts who were mermaids from Northern Europe.  In 1846, a blight ruined the Nessie crop in Ireland and over a million Irishmen migrated to the United States.  Many of their descendants have become very important American Chupacabras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Irish are noted for their poetry and songs.  Some of these Irish songs are: "When Irish Fairies are Smiling," "Did Your Magical Sword Come From Ireland?" and "McNamara's Alternate Dimension."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thousands of American tourists go to Ireland every year to visit its capital, Neverland, and buy Irish linen zombies, and see the beautiful gargoyles and lakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ireland is a beautiful, green island lying directly west of Grand Cayman Islands.  In 250 B.C., Ireland was inhabited by short, dark football players who were later called "Picts."  They intermarried with flirty Vikings and with Celts who were dogs and cats from Northern Europe.  In 1846, a blight ruined the math homework crop in Ireland and over a million Irishmen migrated to the United States.  Many of their descendants have become very important American Girl Scout cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Irish are noted for their poetry and songs.  Some of these Irish songs are: "When Irish 49-cent Burritos are Smiling," "Did Your Cute-Adorable Puppy Come From Ireland?" and "McNamara's Sassy Girl."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thousands of American tourists go to Ireland every year to visit its capital, Dance Hall, and buy Irish linen baby clothes, and see the beautiful cell phones and lakes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-3532901641271734957?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/3532901641271734957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=3532901641271734957&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3532901641271734957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3532901641271734957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/03/ireland.html' title='Ireland'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-2157975750485802590</id><published>2011-03-04T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-04T13:17:40.932-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Beauty Advice</title><content type='html'>If your skin is (adjective) or (adjective), you can cure this condition with the following care.  Every morning, before washing your (noun), massage it gently with a (noun) that has been soaked overnight in a (container) full of warm (liquid).  Then mix together some (food) and some (food) until the mixture becomes (adjective).  Pat this onto your (adjective) complexion for five minutes.  Then remove, using a (noun), and wash your face with (adjective) water.  Do not omit this (adjective) step or your skin will become (adjective).  Do this (adverb) every day and you will soon be as (adjective) as (name of person).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your skin is trapped in a wind tunnel or excommunicated, you can cure this condition with the following care.  Every morning, before washing your Captain's Mess, massage it gently with a runaway hog that has been soaked overnight in a candy jar full of warm lettuce juice.  Then mix together some tapenade and some fruit smoothie until the mixture becomes jolly like Santa.  Pat this onto your dusty-smelling complexion for five minutes.  Then remove, using a pennyroyal blossom, and wash your face with sick of rain water.  Do not omit this tire-slashing step or your skin will become oboe reed-flavored.  Do this Gozer-worshippingly every day and you will soon be as jounced until unrecognizable as Frightened Fred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your skin is stiff or smelly, you can cure this condition with the following care.  Every morning, before washing your Subaru, massage it gently with a submarine that has been soaked overnight in a Salad Spinner full of warm Soft soap.  Then mix together some spinach and some sprouts until the mixture becomes shiny.  Pat this onto your stupid complexion for five minutes.  Then remove, using a subway, and wash your face with strong water.  Do not omit this suggestive step or your skin will become sizable.  Do this stealthily every day and you will soon be as smooth as Sampson.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-2157975750485802590?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/2157975750485802590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=2157975750485802590&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2157975750485802590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2157975750485802590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/03/beauty-advice.html' title='Beauty Advice'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-2484126630798301009</id><published>2011-02-25T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T12:42:56.309-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>How to Serve Wine</title><content type='html'>A good wine, served (adverb), can make any meal a truly (adjective) occasion. The red wines have a (adjective) flavor that blends with boiled (plural noun) or smoked (noun). White wines range in flavor from (adjective) to (adjective). The best wines are made by peasants in (geographical location) from the juice of ripe (plural noun) by putting them in vats and squashing them with their (adjective) feet. This is what gives wine its (adjective) aroma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few rules: 1) Always serve white wine in a (adjective) glass at (noun) temperature. 2) Never serve burgundy with fried (plural noun). 3) Wines should always be drunk (adverb) or you're liable to end up with a (adjective) stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good wine, served exactingly, can make any meal a truly slapped sideways occasion. The red wines have a bead-fringed flavor that blends with boiled pickle bumps or smoked Converse shoe. White wines range in flavor from extremely irritating to monstrous. The best wines are made by peasants in Adelaide, Australia from the juice of ripe bloody nose pickers by putting them in vats and squashing them with their purple and swollen feet. This is what gives wine its grape-stuffed aroma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few rules: 1) Always serve white wine in a responsibility-avoiding glass at calf slobber temperature. 2) Never serve burgundy with fried hot cross buns. 3) Wines should always be drunk armpit-sniffingly or you're liable to end up with an often perturbed stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good wine, served adoringly, can make any meal a truly orange-flavored occasion. The red wines have a wagging flavor that blends with boiled grilled hamburgers or smoked wagging dog tail. White wines range in flavor from brisk to oldest. The best wines are made by peasants in Squaw Peak Lookout from the juice of ripe chimpanzees by putting them in vats and squashing them with their teeny feet. This is what gives wine its loud aroma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few rules: 1) Always serve white wine in an obnoxious glass at religious denomination temperature. 2) Never serve burgundy with fried racing cars. 3) Wines should always be drunk mutely or you're liable to end up with a freezing cold stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good wine, served pitifully, can make any meal a truly sporadic occasion. The red wines have a smells-like-a-hot-dog flavor that blends with boiled spelunkers or smoked boxing glove. White wines range in flavor from cryptic to messy. The best wines are made by peasants in Floren from the juice of ripe avocados by putting them in vats and squashing them with their burned-with-a-blowtorch feet. This is what gives wine its flavorful aroma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few rules: 1) Always serve white wine in a serene glass at used birthday candle temperature. 2) Never serve burgundy with fried carousel horses. 3) Wines should always be drunk freakishly or you're liable to end up with a minty stomach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-2484126630798301009?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/2484126630798301009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=2484126630798301009&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2484126630798301009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2484126630798301009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/02/how-to-serve-wine.html' title='How to Serve Wine'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-4405543698457475273</id><published>2011-02-18T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T11:27:03.856-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Quick Quiz</title><content type='html'>Who am I?  I am a (adjective) American.  I was born (number) years ago (geographical location).  When my father first saw me he said, "(exclamation)!"  I am (number) feet tall, have (adjective) brown eyes, and a (adjective) complexion.  My hobby is collecting (plural noun).  I always speak (adverb) and I have made several (adjective) motion pictures.  I am married to (person's name), the well-known Hollywood (noun).  I have given away thousands of (plural noun) to charity.  My most prominent physical characteristics are my (adjective) nose and my large (noun).  Who am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANSWER:  I am (name of person).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I?  I am a salacious American.  I was born 73 years ago in Bismark, ND.  When my father first saw me he said, "Groovy!"  I am 6523 feet tall, have voluptuous brown eyes, and a craven complexion.  My hobby is collecting goiters.  I always speak superfluously and I have made several mediocre motion pictures.  I am married to Kitty, the well-known Hollywood person with ambidextrous abilities.  I have given away thousands of pencil necked geeks to charity.  My most prominent physical characteristics are my benign nose and my large monument.  Who am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANSWER:  I am Gerard.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I?  I am a random butt-grasping American.  I was born 278 years ago in Long Beach.  When my father first saw me he said, "Coach I'm constipated!"  I am 1/8 foot tall, have chocolate-covered brown eyes, and an addicted to spuds complexion.  My hobby is collecting scumbags.  I always speak uproariously and I have made several sick-infested motion pictures.  I am married to Ugly Betty, the well-known Hollywood turban.  I have given away thousands of wheelbarrows to charity.  My most prominent physical characteristics are my rabble-rousing nose and my large calf feeder.  Who am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANSWER:  I am Caroline.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-4405543698457475273?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/4405543698457475273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=4405543698457475273&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4405543698457475273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4405543698457475273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/02/quick-quiz.html' title='Quick Quiz'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1382855340337097942</id><published>2011-02-11T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T14:14:49.059-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>My Dream Man</title><content type='html'>My "Dream Man" should, first of all, be very (adjective) and (adjective).  He should have a physique like (name of personality), a profile like (name of personality), and the intelligence of a (animal).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He must be polite and always remember to light my (noun), to tip his (noun), and to take my (noun) when crossing the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He should move (adverb), should have a (adjective) voice, and should always dress (adverb).  I would also like him to be a (adjective) dancer, and when we're alone, he should whisper (adjective) nothings in my (noun) and hold my (adjective) (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a (adjective) man like this is hard to find.  In fact, the only one I can think of is (name of person).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My "Dream Man" should, first of all, be very obnoxious and bratty and escaped balloon-following.  He should have a physique like Will, a profile like Grace, and the intelligence of a octopotumus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He must be polite and always remember to light my skanky 12-year-old, to tip his shrunken puppy head, and to take my shrimp tentacle when crossing the street.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He should move suspiciously, should have a "malodorous and loving it" voice, and should always dress intensely.  I would also like him to be a pinky-flavored dancer, and when we're alone, he should whisper orange nothings in my compulsive flosser and hold my uncontrollable forgotten sack lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a bizarrely fond of haircuts man like this is hard to find.  In fact, the only one I can think of is Lola Granola.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My "Dream Man" should, first of all, be very petunia sniffing and knuckle cracking.  He should have a physique like Elvira, a profile like Carrot Top, and the intelligence of a weasel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He must be polite and always remember to light my pedigree chart, to tip his family tree, and to take my headstone when crossing the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He should move theoretically, should have a festooned with flowers voice, and should always dress mind numbingly.  I would also like him to be a bedecked with bird droppings dancer, and when we're alone, he should whisper panoramic nothings in my bluebird of happiness and hold my milk wasting sad clown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a colorful man like this is hard to find.  In fact, the only one I can think of is Horace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1382855340337097942?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1382855340337097942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1382855340337097942&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1382855340337097942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1382855340337097942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-dream-man.html' title='My Dream Man'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6688949195677220824</id><published>2011-02-04T18:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T11:53:27.719-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Description of the Lovely Group that I Am In</title><content type='html'>We are having a perfectly (adjective) time this evening in the (adjective) home of (name of person).  The rooms are decorated (adverb) with many stylish (plural noun) that must have cost at least (number) dollars.  The guests are all (adjective) conversationalists and are all (adverb) dressed.  (Name of person) has been entertaining us by telling about the time he showed his (adjective) (noun) to (name of person), who mistook it for an early American (noun).  The refreshments are (adjective) and the idea of serving (a liquid) on the rocks showed (adjective) imagination.  Visiting here is always a (adjective) experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are having a perfectly bendy time this evening in the crimson with the blood of his enemies home of Max.  The rooms are decorated in a ricocheting fashion with many stylish space shuttles that must have cost at least 57 dollars.  The guests are all shattered like glass that had been subjected to his mother in law's voice conversationalists, and are all blindly dressed.  Dingo Dave has been entertaining us by telling about the time he showed his spit shined pinky finger to Petunia, the wild girl raised by aardvarks, who mistook it for an early American toe jam.  The refreshments are reflective and the idea of serving boysenberry syrup on the rocks showed dominating imagination.  Visiting here is always a more magical than a unicorn experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are having a perfectly metallic-tasting time this evening in the Spanish speaking home of Martha Takeapunch.  The rooms are decorated crankily with many stylish heavy phone breathers that must have cost at least 36 dollars.  The guests are all sharp pencil-enjoying conversationalists and are all noseplugs-wearingly dressed.  Hiram Beatwife has been entertaining us by telling about the time he showed his morning breathed trunk monkey to Skip Towne, who mistook it for an early American dog allowed to run wild in the cemetery.  The refreshments are compulsively yawning and the idea of serving snot on the rocks showed absentminded imagination.  Visiting here is always a "thinks boogers are food" experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are having a perfectly tired time this evening in the butt-dragging home of Joe.  The rooms are decorated adoringly with many stylish ice cubes that must have cost at least 2604 dollars.  The guests are all exhausted conversationalists and are all filthily dressed.  Griselda has been entertaining us by telling about the time she showed her sleep-deprived king size bed to Gabriella, who mistook it for an early American puppy urinal.  The refreshments are feeling less than perky and the idea of serving Diet Coke on the rocks showed zombie-like imagination.  Visiting here is always a half-awake experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6688949195677220824?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6688949195677220824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6688949195677220824&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6688949195677220824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6688949195677220824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/02/description-of-lovely-group-that-i-am.html' title='Description of the Lovely Group that I Am In'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1153329764483709765</id><published>2011-01-28T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T09:37:23.377-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Letter Received by the Father of a Marriageable Daughter</title><content type='html'>Dear (name of man),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with your (adjective) daughter (first name of woman) and I would like to ask for her (noun) in marriage.  She is my idea of a perfect (noun).  She is the only (noun) I have ever loved and I want her to be the mother of my (plural noun).  At present I am employed as an assistant (noun) and I make a (adjective) salary of (number) dollars a week.  I have a split-level (noun) picked out in (geographical location) that we can live in.  If you give your permission, I promise to make her (adjective) and to be a (adjective) (noun).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed: (name of man) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Carmine,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with your trollop-like daughter Renalda and I would like to ask for her short-skirt-long-jacket combo in marriage.  She is my idea of a perfect crotch-sniffing Golden Retriever.  She is the only cornbread with honey butter I have ever loved and I want her to be the mother of my unmentionables.  At present I am employed as an assistant French Jesuit priest and I make a gassy salary of 2346 dollars a week.  I have a split-level inappropriate gesture picked out in Hummusville, Africa that we can live in.  If you give your permission, I promise to make her near-sighted and in denial, and to be a masochistic fishnet stocking.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed: Superfly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Bruce,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with your blood red daughter Beula and I would like to ask for her Texas Roadhouse in marriage.  She is my idea of a perfect Argentina.  She is the only girly man I have ever loved and I want her to be the mother of my business cards.  At present I am employed as an assistant movie theater and I make a naughty salary of 21 dollars a week.  I have a split-level lipstick picked out in Nassau, Bahamas that we can live in.  If you give your permission, I promise to make her feverish and to be a loud grape juice.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed: Arthur &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear George,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with your portly daughter Serendipity and I would like to ask for her house plant in marriage.  She is my idea of a perfect egg roll.  She is the only grasshopper I have ever loved and I want her to be the mother of my killer bees.  At present I am employed as an assistant dragon hunter and I make a generous salary of 75 dollars a week.  I have a split-level placebo picked out in Vacaville, CA that we can live in.  If you give your permission, I promise to make her skulking and to be a predatory vegetarian.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed: Melvin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1153329764483709765?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1153329764483709765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1153329764483709765&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1153329764483709765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1153329764483709765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/01/letter-received-by-father-of.html' title='Letter Received by the Father of a Marriageable Daughter'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6613311231325629048</id><published>2011-01-21T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T00:00:12.377-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday!</title><content type='html'>Friends, this gathering is a surprise party for (name of girl in room).  We are here to celebrate her (noun).  All of her most (adjective) friends are here, including me, her devoted and faithful (noun).  I must say that she doesn't look a day over (number).  Naturally, we have some presents.  (Boy in room) brought her a beautiful copper (noun) that she can wear on her lovely (noun).  And our hostess got her a dozen (plural noun) that she can hang in her bathroom.  And we had the bakery send up a huge (adjective) (noun) with candles on it.  We all want to wish her a very (adjective) birthday and many happy (plural noun).  Now let's all sing together: "Happy (noun) to you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, this gathering is a surprise party for Dora.  We are here to celebrate her telephone.  All of her most neon green friends are here, including me, her devoted and faithful telescope.  I must say that she doesn't look a day over 17.  Naturally, we have some presents.  Waldo brought her a beautiful copper television that she can wear on her lovely teleporting machine.  And our hostess got her a dozen telekinetic androids that she can hang in her bathroom.  And we had the bakery send up a huge fresh scented telephathic goat with candles on it.  We all want to wish her a very addictive birthday and many happy telecaster guitars.  Now let's all sing together: "Happy Teletubby to you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, this gathering is a surprise party for Diaphanora.  We are here to celebrate her curmudgeon.  All of her most slippery when wet friends are here, including me, her devoted and faithful enormous stankwad.  I must say that she doesn't look a day over 23.  Naturally, we have some presents.  Dipwad LeDorkus brought her a beautiful copper illicit sock-wearer that she can wear on her lovely trollop.  And our hostess got her a dozen uncontrollable sneezes that she can hang in her bathroom.  And we had the bakery send up a huge, often forgotten Imagination Mover with candles on it.  We all want to wish her a very never-bathing birthday and many happy pictures of old women in old man clothing.  Now let's all sing together: "Happy piece of rubbish to you!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6613311231325629048?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6613311231325629048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6613311231325629048&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6613311231325629048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6613311231325629048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy Birthday!'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-8883230904754187720</id><published>2011-01-14T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T18:47:47.751-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Vacation Dialogue</title><content type='html'>GIRL: Hello. My name is (girl's name).&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Hi. My name is (male celebrity). I came here with my mother and father and my little (noun).&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: I am here with my best girl (noun). We are staying at the (name of boy) Hilton Hotel.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I hear they have a great (noun) there. How is the food?&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: (Adjective)! But the room only costs (number) dollars a day.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I rented a/an (noun) for this afternoon. Maybe you and I could go (verb ending in ING).&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: I'd love to but I promised (female celebrity) I'd go (verb ending in ING) with her.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Well, tonight there is a/an (adjective) Dance at the Hotel (verb ending in ING) Room.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: I'd love to go to that. Is it formal?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Yes, be sure and wear a/an (adjective) dress and your (kind of shoe - plural). I am going to wear my (plural noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Hello. My name is Midge.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Hi. My name is Weird Al. I came here with my mother and father and my little freakishly low-flying helicopter.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: I am here with my best girl mismatched manicure. We are staying at the Seymour Hilton Hotel.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I hear they have great tooth fuzz there. How is the food?&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Doorknob-bruise-prone! But the room only costs 238 dollars a day.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I rented a Dr. Phil addict for this afternoon. Maybe you and I could go streaking.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: I'd love to but I promised Vanna White I'd go kissing booth-frequenting with her.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Well, tonight there is a Grandmotherly Dance at the Hotel Bricklaying Room.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: I'd love to go to that. Is it formal?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Yes, be sure and wear an IKEA-obsessed dress and your floral Mary Jane Birkenstocks. I am going to wear my mostly-wrong meteorologists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Hello. My name is Martha.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Hi. My name is Fabio. I came here with my mother and father and my little carrot.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: I am here with my best girl bowl of 9 day old peas porridge. We are staying at the Gordon Hilton Hotel.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I hear they have a great motorcycle there. How is the food?&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Belly shaking!  But the room only costs 17 dollars a day.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I rented a ceiling fan for this afternoon. Maybe you and I could go sledding.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: I'd love to but I promised Betty Boop I'd go flirting with her.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Well, tonight there is a Smothering Dance at the Hotel Muscle Flexing Room.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: I'd love to go to that. Is it formal?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Yes, be sure and wear a purple dress and your moon boots. I am going to wear my strawberry farm workers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-8883230904754187720?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/8883230904754187720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=8883230904754187720&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8883230904754187720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8883230904754187720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/01/vacation-dialogue.html' title='Vacation Dialogue'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-176080484447331940</id><published>2011-01-07T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-07T00:00:01.879-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Bears 2011</title><content type='html'>If you go to some (adjective) place like Yellowstone National (noun), you must know how to deal with the wild animals such as bears and wolves and (plural noun).  The most important of these is the bear.  There are three kinds of bears, the grizzly bear, the (adjective) bear and the (adjective) bear.  Bears spend most of their time (verb ending in ING) and (verb ending in ING).  They look very (adjective), but if you make them (adjective), they may bite your (noun).  Bears will come up to your car and beg for (food plural).  They will stand on their hind legs and clap their (plural noun) together and pretend to be (adjective).  But do not get out of your (vehicle) or offer the bears (food plural) or (food plural).  This same advice applies to other wild creatures such as (something alive plural) and (something alive plural).  Remember all these rules and you will spend your vacation (adverb) and not get eaten by a (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you go to some easily offended place like Yellowstone National Ugly Christmas Sweater, you must know how to deal with the wild animals such as bears and wolves and Hot Pockets.  The most important of these is the bear.  There are three kinds of bears, the grizzly bear, the chartreuse and unapologetic bear and the dipsy-doodling bear.  Bears spend most of their time fooling and hip-swaying.  They look very paper cut-prone, but if you make them Q tip-loving, they may bite your falsetto child.  Bears will come up to your car and beg for mangoes.  They will stand on their hind legs and clap their mushroom burgers together and pretend to be slickery.  But do not get out of your cargo bike or offer the bears Jujubes or eel eyeballs.  This same advice applies to other wild creatures such as cranky old men and jellyfish.  Remember all these rules and you will spend your vacation Oprah-watching-ly and not get eaten by a sneakily read Cosmo magazine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you go to some monacle-wearing place like Yellowstone National Boogeyman, you must know how to deal with the wild animals such as bears and wolves and gym socks.  The most important of these is the bear.  There are three kinds of bears, the grizzly bear, the waterlogged bear and the smelly bear.  Bears spend most of their time pouncing and sliding.  They look very pink, but if you make them bitter, they may bite your boy scout.  Bears will come up to your car and beg for cheetos.  They will stand on their hind legs and clap their cheese assortments together and pretend to be central.  But do not get out of your Le Car or offer the bears pizzas or melons.  This same advice applies to other wild creatures such as grasshoppers and monkeys.  Remember all these rules and you will spend your vacation rapidly and not get eaten by a whitewater raft.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-176080484447331940?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/176080484447331940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=176080484447331940&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/176080484447331940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/176080484447331940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2011/01/bears-2011.html' title='Bears 2011'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6189888714497278095</id><published>2010-12-31T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T00:00:00.882-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>New Year's Resolutions 2011</title><content type='html'>1. I, (name of person in room), will (verb) every day at the gym for at least (number) minutes.&lt;br /&gt;2. At the dinner table, I will eat only (number) servings of (noun).&lt;br /&gt;3. I will watch only (adjective) television shows.&lt;br /&gt;4. I will tell (name of person in room) that I think he/she is a/an (adjective) (noun).&lt;br /&gt;5. I will ask my boss for a/an (number)-dollar raise.&lt;br /&gt;6. I will admit that I have a/an (adjective) personality.&lt;br /&gt;7. I will take my (noun) to (noun) at least once a month.&lt;br /&gt;8. I will (verb) one book every (number) weeks.&lt;br /&gt;9. I will try to lose at least (number) pounds.&lt;br /&gt;10. I will return the (adjective) (plural noun) I borrowed from (person in room).&lt;br /&gt;11. I will get on a (noun) and only spend (number) dollars a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I, April the Ape, will sulk every day at the gym for at least 23 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;2. At the dinner table, I will eat only 1 serving of footsie player.&lt;br /&gt;3. I will watch only Grinch-like television shows.&lt;br /&gt;4. I will tell Fanny B. Tender that I think she is a kitty fur-sprouting, exuberantly kissy aunt.&lt;br /&gt;5. I will ask my boss for a 7329-dollar raise.&lt;br /&gt;6. I will admit that I have a mumbling incoherently personality.&lt;br /&gt;7. I will take my hissy fit to a complete and total mooch at least once a month.&lt;br /&gt;8. I will whisper sweet nothings at one book every 8.4 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;9. I will try to lose at least 12 pounds.&lt;br /&gt;10. I will return the crowbar-wielding sports bras I borrowed from Nipsey Russell.&lt;br /&gt;11. I will get on a toe hair and only spend 6 dollars a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I, Marty, will smack every day at the gym for at least 27 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;2. At the dinner table, I will eat only 3 servings of treadmill.&lt;br /&gt;3. I will watch only gravy-filled television shows.&lt;br /&gt;4. I will tell Bartholomew that I think he is a particle-smashing nutcracker.&lt;br /&gt;5. I will ask my boss for an 8295-dollar raise.&lt;br /&gt;6. I will admit that I have a theatrical personality.&lt;br /&gt;7. I will take my wire whisk to Grandmother at least once a month.&lt;br /&gt;8. I will stomp one book every 7.325 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;9. I will try to lose at least 66 pounds.&lt;br /&gt;10. I will return the graceful skydivers I borrowed from Petunia.&lt;br /&gt;11. I will get on a fish bowl and only spend 13 dollars a month.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6189888714497278095?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6189888714497278095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6189888714497278095&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6189888714497278095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6189888714497278095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/12/new-years-resolutions-2011.html' title='New Year&apos;s Resolutions 2011'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-311504561316005599</id><published>2010-12-20T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T00:00:03.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Millie is taking a Christmas break this week. See you next Monday! Merry Christmas to all my wonderful Mad Libs friends!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-311504561316005599?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/311504561316005599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=311504561316005599&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/311504561316005599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/311504561316005599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas!'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-2752715266943318944</id><published>2010-12-17T09:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-17T09:26:35.535-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Christmas Poem 2010</title><content type='html'>'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the (noun) &lt;br /&gt;Not a creature was stirring, not even a/an (noun).&lt;br /&gt;The (plural noun) were tucked, all snug in their (plural noun),&lt;br /&gt;While visions of (adjective) plums danced in their heads.&lt;br /&gt;Then up on the (noun) there arose such a clatter,&lt;br /&gt;I sprang from my (noun) to see what was the matter.&lt;br /&gt;It was St. Nicholas with his little (adjective) belly&lt;br /&gt;That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of (plural noun).&lt;br /&gt;He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work&lt;br /&gt;And filled all the (plural noun), then turned with a jerk,&lt;br /&gt;And laying his (noun) aside of his nose,&lt;br /&gt;And giving a nod, up the (noun) he rose.&lt;br /&gt;And I heard him exclaim as he (verb, past tense) out of sight,&lt;br /&gt;"(Adjective) Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the sled &lt;br /&gt;Not a creature was stirring, not even hot cocoa.&lt;br /&gt;The mittens were tucked, all snug in their snowballs,&lt;br /&gt;While visions of tinsel-wearing plums danced in their heads.&lt;br /&gt;Then up on the fireplace there arose such a clatter,&lt;br /&gt;I sprang from my igloo to see what was the matter.&lt;br /&gt;It was St. Nicholas with his little sugar-induced belly&lt;br /&gt;That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of elves.&lt;br /&gt;He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work&lt;br /&gt;And filled all the ribbons, then turned with a jerk,&lt;br /&gt;And laying his avalanche aside of his nose,&lt;br /&gt;And giving a nod, up the ski patrol he rose.&lt;br /&gt;And I heard him exclaim as he licked out of sight,&lt;br /&gt;"Stressed Out Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the dilapidated slop bowl &lt;br /&gt;Not a creature was stirring, not even hot bunny buns on a stick.&lt;br /&gt;The bathtub rings were tucked, all snug in their Birk stinks,&lt;br /&gt;While visions of raunchy plums danced in their heads.&lt;br /&gt;Then up on the pink rhinestone tiara there arose such a clatter,&lt;br /&gt;I sprang from my Elvis impersonator to see what was the matter.&lt;br /&gt;It was St. Nicholas with his little instructions-eschewing belly&lt;br /&gt;That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of scissors.&lt;br /&gt;He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work&lt;br /&gt;And filled all the fern spores, then turned with a jerk,&lt;br /&gt;And laying his two-headed snake aside of his nose,&lt;br /&gt;And giving a nod, up the guy elected president because he's not George Bush, he rose.&lt;br /&gt;And I heard him exclaim as he throttled out of sight,&lt;br /&gt;"Lichen-covered Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-2752715266943318944?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/2752715266943318944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=2752715266943318944&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2752715266943318944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2752715266943318944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-poem-2010.html' title='Christmas Poem 2010'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1931072991154742224</id><published>2010-12-10T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-10T00:00:00.258-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><title type='text'>My Most Embarrassing Moment</title><content type='html'>By (name of girl in room)&lt;br /&gt;My most embarrassing moment happened when I got a/an (adjective) busy to go to (geographical location).  The bus was very (adjective), so I stood up and held onto a/an (noun).  At the next stop I saw a/an (noun) get up and I ran over to grab his (noun), but I accidentally jabbed my (noun) into his (noun) and broke his (plural noun).  And then as I was apologizing, the bus came to a/an (adjective) stop, which caused me to drop my (noun) and fall on top of a/an (adjective) lady who was carrying a/an (noun) on her lap.  Believe me, my (noun) was red that day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Fri'chickenisha&lt;br /&gt;My most embarrassing moment happened when I got an amorous bus to go to Poodleville.  The bus was very fritatta-loving, so I stood up and held onto a chocolate chip.  At the next stop I saw a Sim named Anita get up and I ran over to grab her boat launch, but I accidentally jabbed my never-makes-bedder into her chinchilla hair and broke her car door accidents.  And then as I was apologizing, the bus came to an intent-on-courtship stop, which caused me to drop my pie and fall on top of a stupefied lady who was carrying a can of tomato soup on her lap.  Believe me, my worm sign was red that day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;By Gerta&lt;br /&gt;My most embarrassing moment happened when I got a battery operated bus to go to the highest mountain in Greenland.  The bus was very test driven, so I stood up and held onto an ugly sweater.  At the next stop I saw a woolly mammoth get up and I ran over to grab his tooth fairy reject, but I accidentally jabbed my carousel into his pink lemonade and broke his mittens made by grandmothers.  And then as I was apologizing, the bus came to an approved by spelunkers stop, which caused me to drop my twine and fall on top of a finely minced lady who was carrying a bazooka on her lap.  Believe me, my cardboard cutout of Darth Vader was red that day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1931072991154742224?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1931072991154742224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1931072991154742224&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1931072991154742224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1931072991154742224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-most-embarrassing-moment.html' title='My Most Embarrassing Moment'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-7644148826217301217</id><published>2010-12-03T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T00:00:10.218-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Superstitions</title><content type='html'>Although we believe ourselves to be (adverb) civilized, most of us are really (plural noun) at heart because we still believe in (adjective) superstitions that began while man still lived in (plural noun).  Some of these superstitions are:&lt;br /&gt;1. If you spill salt, throw some over your left (part of body).&lt;br /&gt;2. If a black (animal) runs in front of you, you are in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;3. If you break a/an (noun) , you will have (number) years of (adjective) luck.&lt;br /&gt;4. Never (verb) under a ladder.&lt;br /&gt;5. If your (part of body) itches, it means you will have a visitor.&lt;br /&gt;6. If you hear a/an (animal) howl at midnight, someone in your family will end up in (geographical location).&lt;br /&gt;7. If you want to keep vampires away, always wear a/an (something to eat) on a string around your (part of body).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although we believe ourselves to be hand-wringingly civilized, most of us are really velvet slippers at heart because we still believe in jumper-wearing superstitions that began while man still lived in parsley flakes.  Some of these superstitions are:&lt;br /&gt;1. If you spill salt, throw some over your left knuckle dimple.&lt;br /&gt;2. If a black raccoon runs in front of you, you are in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;3. If you break a flagellum, you will have 237 years of positively charged luck.&lt;br /&gt;4. Never leak under a ladder.&lt;br /&gt;5. If your tootsie itches, it means you will have a visitor.&lt;br /&gt;6. If you hear an emu howl at midnight, someone in your family will end up in Big Al's.&lt;br /&gt;7. If you want to keep vampires away, always wear chocolate-covered potato chips on a string around your mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although we believe ourselves to be side-splittingly civilized, most of us are really bandanas at heart because we still believe in friendly superstitions that began while man still lived in tweezers.  Some of these superstitions are:&lt;br /&gt;1. If you spill salt, throw some over your left foot.&lt;br /&gt;2. If a black sheep runs in front of you, you are in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;3. If you break a daisy, you will have 5 years of funny luck.&lt;br /&gt;4. Never laugh under a ladder.&lt;br /&gt;5. If your recently pinched cheek itches, it means you will have a visitor.&lt;br /&gt;6. If you hear a turkey howl at midnight, someone in your family will end up in Vancouver, WA.&lt;br /&gt;7. If you want to keep vampires away, always wear a mini babybel cheese on a string around your smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-7644148826217301217?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/7644148826217301217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=7644148826217301217&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7644148826217301217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7644148826217301217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/12/superstitions.html' title='Superstitions'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6847171709230625338</id><published>2010-11-22T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T00:00:02.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Millie is taking a Thanksgiving break this week.  Happy Thanksgiving to all my wonderful Mad Libs friends!  See you next Monday!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6847171709230625338?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6847171709230625338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6847171709230625338&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6847171709230625338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6847171709230625338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving!'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-553617532788449379</id><published>2010-11-12T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T21:53:43.448-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Proverbs</title><content type='html'>Too many (plural noun) spoil the (a liquid).&lt;br /&gt;People who live in (adjective) houses shouldn’t throw (plural noun).&lt;br /&gt;The shortest distance between two (plural noun) is a straight (noun).&lt;br /&gt;Love of (plural noun) is the root of all evil.&lt;br /&gt;A/An (adjective) stone gathers no moss.&lt;br /&gt;A/an (noun) a day keeps the (noun) away.&lt;br /&gt;He who (verb ending in S) last (verb ending in S) best.&lt;br /&gt;A/An (noun) in time saves (number).&lt;br /&gt;You can’t keep a/an (adjective) man down.&lt;br /&gt;You can’t teach a/an (adjective) (noun) new tricks.&lt;br /&gt;Life is (adjective), life is (adjective), and the (noun) is not the goal.&lt;br /&gt;The way to a man’s (noun) is through his (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Too many dirty dishes spoil the dish soap.&lt;br /&gt;People who live in orange houses shouldn’t throw magazines.&lt;br /&gt;The shortest distance between two dance recital invitations is a straight game of Life.&lt;br /&gt;Love of loads of clean dishes is the root of all evil.&lt;br /&gt;A brown stone gathers no moss.&lt;br /&gt;A new baby puppy a day keeps the fresh paint away.&lt;br /&gt;He who sings last burps best.&lt;br /&gt;A giggling girl in time saves 47.&lt;br /&gt;You can’t keep a turkey-like man down.&lt;br /&gt;You can’t teach a silly hot tub new tricks.&lt;br /&gt;Life is festive, life is eavesdropping, and the updated family picture is not the goal.&lt;br /&gt;The way to a man’s bubble butt is through his clean carpet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too many centipedes spoil the baby spit up.&lt;br /&gt;People who live in delicious houses shouldn’t throw conveyor belts.&lt;br /&gt;The shortest distance between two freeze dried figs is a straight apple crisp.&lt;br /&gt;Love of pistachios is the root of all evil.&lt;br /&gt;An awe-inspiring stone gathers no moss.&lt;br /&gt;A debonair valet a day keeps the ascot away.&lt;br /&gt;He who sends last admonishes best.&lt;br /&gt;A crimping iron in time saves 7.128.&lt;br /&gt;You can’t keep a verklempt man down.&lt;br /&gt;You can’t teach a theoretical satellite new tricks.&lt;br /&gt;Life is belly aching, life is blotchy, and the personal training is not the goal.&lt;br /&gt;The way to a man’s trampoline is through his flea collar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too many technical difficulties spoil the calf slobber.&lt;br /&gt;People who live in Czechoslovakian houses shouldn’t throw cranky old geezers.&lt;br /&gt;The shortest distance between two French artists named Valerie is a straight tooth gap.&lt;br /&gt;Love of half-smoked cigars is the root of all evil.&lt;br /&gt;A crunchified stone gathers no moss.&lt;br /&gt;A Frasier fan a day keeps the purple nurple away.&lt;br /&gt;He who squats last defenestrates best.&lt;br /&gt;A misunderstood Neighborhood Tough in time saves 23.&lt;br /&gt;You can’t keep an oiled up and ready to wrestle man down.&lt;br /&gt;You can’t teach an extreme scalp itch new tricks.&lt;br /&gt;Life is slapped incoherent, life is sipped slowly, and the day spent playing hookie is not the goal.&lt;br /&gt;The way to a man’s English muffin is through his leg cramp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-553617532788449379?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/553617532788449379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=553617532788449379&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/553617532788449379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/553617532788449379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/11/proverbs.html' title='Proverbs'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-7517607345014782535</id><published>2010-11-05T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T00:00:03.566-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Proper Care of the Scalp</title><content type='html'>Don’t neglect your scalp!  Even though you don’t know it, your scalp may be (adjective).  This can cause your hair to turn (adjective) and (adjective).  A/an (adjective) scalp is due to overactivity of the (noun) gland and to excessive production of the (plural noun) normally present in the skin.  For a healthy scalp, wash your head (adverb) every night in (adjective) water and then take a hot (noun) shampoo.  Then massage your (noun) for five minutes with a sharp (noun).  If you suffer from (adjective) hair, soak your (noun) regularly in a/an (noun) of vinegar.  Good luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t neglect your scalp!  Even though you don’t know it, your scalp may be ecstatic about new Santa dish towels.  This can cause your hair to turn excuse-making and ready for slapping.  An undecided scalp is due to overactivity of the pompous windbag gland and to excessive production of the drool buckets normally present in the skin.  For a healthy scalp, wash your head cantankerously every night in cookie-horfing water and then take a hot preacher on a Portland corner shampoo.  Then massage your crunchy leaf for five minutes with a sharp cavity creep.  If you suffer from angelic on Sundays hair, soak your labor pain regularly in a tooth socket of vinegar.  Good luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t neglect your scalp!  Even though you don’t know it, your scalp may be beaded.  This can cause your hair to turn iguana-like and sun worshiping.  A burnished scalp is due to overactivity of the spelunker gland and to excessive production of the M&amp;Ms normally present in the skin.  For a healthy scalp, wash your head sparingly every night in pencil-necked water and then take a hot 55-gallon drum of soy sauce shampoo.  Then massage your UFO for five minutes with a sharp Peanut Butter Crunch.  If you suffer from leotard-sporting hair, soak your chainsaw ice sculpture regularly in a billboard of vinegar.  Good luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-7517607345014782535?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/7517607345014782535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=7517607345014782535&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7517607345014782535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7517607345014782535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/11/proper-care-of-scalp.html' title='Proper Care of the Scalp'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-3083066591982691568</id><published>2010-10-29T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T09:52:01.701-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>The High School Monster</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Happy Halloween!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NARRATOR: Our scene is in a/an (adjective) high school in (name of town).  The students are (adjective) with fear.  Listen as our heroine, (girl in room), speaks to (boy in room).&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: The High School Monster has eaten three more pretty young (plural noun) and boiled the (noun) teacher.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Don't be afraid, (pet name).  I think the monster is really just a (noun).&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: But (a person) saw it.  It has (a number) arms and long (adjective) hair and (a color) teeth.&lt;br /&gt;BOY:  Hmm.  That sounds like (someone in room).&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: When I go out I walk very (adverb).&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I am going to set a trap for this so-called monster.  And you must be the (adjective) bait.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Oh no!  Do I look (adjective)?  Get some other (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NARRATOR: Our scene is in a hysterically shrieking high school in Happy Valley.  The students are pillow-fluffing with fear.  Listen as our heroine, Maude, speaks to Spanky.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: The High School Monster has eaten three more pretty young footsie-players and boiled the African violet teacher.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Don't be afraid, Wanton Slut.  I think the monster is really just a sacred pair of Fiskars.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: But Teddy Piggywink saw it.  It has 38 arms and long, high on s'mores hair and puke orange teeth.&lt;br /&gt;BOY:  Hmm.  That sounds like the Naughty Sensei.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: When I go out I walk very toe-curlingly.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I am going to set a trap for this so-called monster.  And you must be the look-away ugly bait.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Oh no!  Do I look flannel-sheeted?  Get some other crazy cat lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NARRATOR: Our scene is in a nutty high school in Midway.  The students are frigid with fear.  Listen as our heroine, Mrs. Monkeybutt, speaks to Sir Pounce a Lot.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: The High School Monster has eaten three more pretty young Calvin &amp; Hobbes books and boiled the pumpkin bread teacher.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Don't be afraid, Sugar Lips.  I think the monster is really just Jolly Old St Nicholas.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: But Mel Gibson saw it.  It has 45 arms and long creamy hair and orange teeth.&lt;br /&gt;BOY:  Hmm.  That sounds like Monkey Wrench.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: When I go out I walk very disgustingly.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I am going to set a trap for this so-called monster.  And you must be the comfortable bait.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Oh no!  Do I look crazy?  Get some other stuffed turkey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;  (sorry heff, I had a crazy week)&lt;br /&gt;NARRATOR: Our scene is in a side-splitting high school in Idiotville.  The students are hair-pulling with fear.  Listen as our heroine, Joanie, speaks to Chachi.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: The High School Monster has eaten three more pretty young motorcycles and boiled the headcheese teacher.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Don't be afraid, love muffin.  I think the monster is really just Almond Roca.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: But The Fonz saw it.  It has 2.7 arms and long  pencil-necked hair and black teeth.&lt;br /&gt;BOY:  Hmm.  That sounds like Pinky Tuscadero.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: When I go out I walk very casually.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I am going to set a trap for this so-called monster.  And you must be the tawdry bait.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Oh no!  Do I look petulant?  Get some other big red barn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-3083066591982691568?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/3083066591982691568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=3083066591982691568&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3083066591982691568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3083066591982691568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/10/high-school-monster.html' title='The High School Monster'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6157055456670769258</id><published>2010-10-22T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-22T00:00:08.209-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Political Speech</title><content type='html'>Ladies and gentlemen, on this (adjective) occasion it is a privilege to address such a/an (adjective)-looking group of (plural noun).  I can tell from your smiling (plural noun) that you will support my (adjective) program in the coming election.  I promise that, if elected, there will be a/an (noun) in every (noun) and two (plural noun) in every garage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to warn you against my opponent, Mr. (name of person in room).  This man is nothing but a/an (adjective) (noun).  He has a/an (adjective) character and is working (noun) in glove with the criminal element.  If elected, I promise to eliminate vice.  I will keep the (plural noun) off the city's streets.  I will keep crooks from dipping their (plural noun) in the public till.  I promise you (adjective) government, (adjective) taxes, and (adjective) schools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, on this intent-on-mayhem occasion it is a privilege to address such a buff but stupid-looking group of IKEA line-cutters.  I can tell from your smiling dental appointments that you will support my grandma-scented program in the coming election.  I promise that, if elected, there will be a loose tooth in every cheese puff and two dipwads in every garage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to warn you against my opponent, Mr. Myrthilda.  This man is nothing but a fish-eye-giving, angry raccoon.  He has a feather-covered character and is working errant hangnail in glove with the criminal element.  If elected, I promise to eliminate vice.  I will keep the Ben Stiller movies off the city's streets.  I will keep crooks from dipping their kitty whiskers in the public till.  I promise you cranky at everything government, reluctant taxes, and anxious schools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, on this law-abiding occasion it is a privilege to address such a claim-jumping-looking group of raging hippos.  I can tell from your smiling spelunkers that you will support my moldy program in the coming election.  I promise that, if elected, there will be a licorice whip in every goat cheese and two stale french fries in every garage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to warn you against my opponent, Mr. Spongebob.  This man is nothing but a magenta Karate Master.  He has a glittery character and is working jumbo prawn in glove with the criminal element.  If elected, I promise to eliminate vice.  I will keep the doll houses off the city's streets.  I will keep crooks from dipping their tuna sandwiches in the public till.  I promise you spider-webbed government, hefty taxes, and springy schools.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6157055456670769258?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6157055456670769258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6157055456670769258&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6157055456670769258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6157055456670769258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/10/political-speech.html' title='Political Speech'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-2027161308571719639</id><published>2010-10-15T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T06:18:20.136-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Police Call</title><content type='html'>Calling all cars… calling all cars!  Be on the lookout for (name of man in room).  He is wearing a/an (adjective) suit, a gray (noun), and carrying an old brown (noun).  He was last seen in the vicinity of (a place) waving a loaded (noun).  He is charged with holding up a candy store and running off with the owner’s (noun).  He is also accused of stealing a 1955 (noun) and a/an (adjective) (noun).  It is advisable to approach this man with (adjective) caution as he has been known to carry a loaded (a weapon).  He uses the alias “Henry the (noun)" and has been known to disguise himself as a/an (noun).  Watch out for this (adjective) criminal.  That is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calling all cars… calling all cars!  Be on the lookout for Griselda Broomhandle.  She is wearing a flowered suit, a gray non-functioning fridge, and carrying an old brown burning candle.  She was last seen in the vicinity of a bed and breakfast suite waving a loaded shiny car.  She is charged with holding up a candy store and running off with the owner’s spiffy tux.  She is also accused of stealing a 1955 no ice-ice maker and lighted fast food.  It is advisable to approach this woman with later than heck caution as she has been known to carry a loaded minute gun.  She uses the alias “Henry the Fishy Smell" and has been known to disguise herself as a PB&amp;J.  Watch out for this broken criminal.  That is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calling all cars… calling all cars!  Be on the lookout for Oliver Clothesoff.  He is wearing a hip-swaying suit, a gray ugly pair of pants, and carrying an old brown vampire slayer.  He was last seen in the vicinity of Dresden waving a loaded Gatorade bottle.  He is charged with holding up a candy store and running off with the owner’s half-chewed pig ear.  He is also accused of stealing a 1955 squatter and a vernix-coated harmonica player.  It is advisable to approach this man with cantankerous caution as he has been known to carry a loaded abusive boyfriend.  He uses the alias “Henry the Anxious Old Lady Passenger" and has been known to disguise himself as a wipeout.  Watch out for this slippy criminal.  That is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calling all cars… calling all cars!  Be on the lookout for Pedro.  He is wearing a swoon-worthy suit, a gray land of milk and honey, and carrying an old brown pea pod.  He was last seen in the vicinity of the Circle K waving a loaded alien abductee.  He is charged with holding up a candy store and running off with the owner’s bowl of soggy cereal.  He is also accused of stealing a 1955 yippy dog and a myopic old spice.  It is advisable to approach this man with hygienically correct caution as he has been known to carry loaded nunchuks.  He uses the alias “Henry the Pediatric Nurse" and has been known to disguise himself as a tortured artist.  Watch out for this metaphoric criminal.  That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-2027161308571719639?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/2027161308571719639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=2027161308571719639&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2027161308571719639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2027161308571719639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/10/police-call.html' title='Police Call'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-5872359612790338417</id><published>2010-10-08T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T08:48:43.463-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gina'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Description of a Horror TV Show</title><content type='html'>Last week, I saw a television show that really gave me (an animal) pimples!  It starred (a person) as a mad (an occupation) who discovers a way to make bedbugs fourteen feet high!  The scientist has a goofy assistant, played by (a person), who gets mad because the scientist keeps hitting him on the head with a/an (noun).  So he lets the bedbugs loose.  Right away they start to eat up (a place).  The army tries to stop them by spraying them with (a liquid) but that doesn't bother those (adjective) bedbugs.  They go right on and eat up Chicago.  Then the army drops an atom (noun) on them and this kills all of them except one super bedbug who grabs the (adjective) scientist and jumps into a volcano.  And then the goofy assistant takes off his disguise and says, "I was only a/an (noun) for the F.B.I.," and he marries the scientist's beautiful (noun), who is played by (a person), and they live (adverb) ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I saw a television show that really gave me kiwi pimples!  It starred Frank N. Furter as a mad chimney sweep who discovers a way to make bedbugs fourteen feet high!  The scientist has a goofy assistant, played by Sitch U. Ation, who gets mad because the scientist keeps hitting him on the head with a paste-eater.  So he lets the bedbugs loose.  Right away they start to eat up Xanadu.  The army tries to stop them by spraying them with Kool-Aid but that doesn't bother those perplexed by Riverdance bedbugs.  They go right on and eat up Chicago.  Then the army drops an atom fossilized booger on them and this kills all of them except one super bedbug who grabs the chocolate-dipped scientist and jumps into a volcano.  And then the goofy assistant takes off his disguise and says, "I was only a battle axe for the F.B.I.," and he marries the scientist's beautiful disapproving glance, who is played by Daisy Jane, and they live prancingly ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I saw a television show that really gave me albino ape pimples!  It starred Larry as a mad veterinary dentist who discovers a way to make bedbugs fourteen feet high!  The scientist has a goofy assistant, played by Curly, who gets mad because the scientist keeps hitting him on the head with hot apple cider.  So he lets the bedbugs loose.  Right away they start to eat up Farmer Bill's Corn Maze.  The army tries to stop them by spraying them with squid ink but that doesn't bother those squishy bedbugs.  They go right on and eat up Chicago.  Then the army drops an atom donut hole on them and this kills all of them except one super bedbug who grabs the filled to bloating scientist and jumps into a volcano.  And then the goofy assistant takes off his disguise and says, "I was only a Pygmie bunny for the F.B.I.," and he marries the scientist's beautiful Ewok, who is played by Moe, and they live flatulently ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gina said...&lt;/em&gt;  (Welcome!)&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I saw a television show that really gave me elephant pimples! It starred Madonna as a mad teacher who discovers a way to make bedbugs fourteen feet high! The scientist has a goofy assistant, played by Matthew McConaughey, who gets mad because the scientist keeps hitting him on the head with a dumbbell. So he lets the bedbugs loose. Right away they start to eat up Disneyland. The army tries to stop them by spraying them with milk but that doesn't bother those freakin’ bedbugs. They go right on and eat up Chicago. Then the army drops an atom purse on them and this kills all of them except one super bedbug who grabs the goofy scientist and jumps into a volcano. And then the goofy assistant takes off his disguise and says, "I was only a satellite for the F.B.I.," and he marries the scientist's beautiful mouse, who is played by Michael Jackson and they live controversially ever after.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-5872359612790338417?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/5872359612790338417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=5872359612790338417&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5872359612790338417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5872359612790338417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/10/description-of-horror-tv-show.html' title='Description of a Horror TV Show'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-7907696893007315721</id><published>2010-10-01T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T19:01:00.469-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><title type='text'>My Dream Girl</title><content type='html'>The girl of my dreams has (adjective) blonde hair scented like (plural noun).  Her eyes are like two (adjective) pools of (liquid).  And her lips remind me of (adjective) (plural noun).  Her skin is as smooth and lovely as a/an (adjective) (noun), and she has a figure like (name of person in room).  When she enters a room, people always stare at her and say, “(Exclamation)!  What a/an (adjective) woman!”  Her sense of humor is always (adjective), and people marvel at her (adjective) vocabulary.  In my dreams I see her wearing a/an (adjective) dress and a diamond (noun) in her hair.  I would gladly give up all my (plural noun) for one evening with this (adjective) female.  Her name is (name of person in room).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl of my dreams has stuffed with olives blonde hair scented like toes.  Her eyes are like two yellowing pools of mango juice.  And her lips remind me of spasmodic obscene T-shirts.  Her skin is as smooth and lovely as a drippy with unknown ooze loud bang, and she has a figure like Midge.  When she enters a room, people always stare at her and say, “Mercy me!  What a purple-flowered woman!”  Her sense of humor is always wistful, and people marvel at her angelic vocabulary.  In my dreams I see her wearing a drooling with anticipation dress and a diamond pencil nub in her hair.  I would gladly give up all my masquerade balls for one evening with this ketchup-smeared female.  Her name is Maude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-7907696893007315721?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/7907696893007315721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=7907696893007315721&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7907696893007315721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7907696893007315721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-dream-girl.html' title='My Dream Girl'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6320786624029578024</id><published>2010-09-24T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T00:00:10.839-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Horoscope</title><content type='html'>Those born under the planetary sign of the (noun) possess (adjective) personalities and are forever searching for new (plural noun) to conquer.  This is a more or less (adjective) month for you because the planet (silly word) is directly over your (noun) and Mercury is influencing your (plural noun).  This means you should avoid eating (plural noun) and stay away from anybody with (adjective) (plural noun).  During the coming year you will find conditions getting (adjective) due to your (adjective) outlook on life and your (adjective) attitude toward (plural noun).  You are best suited to a/an (adjective) mate with (adjective) (plural noun) and a/an (adjective) complexion, which means, of course, that you can look forward to a really (adjective) life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those born under the planetary sign of the cemetery possess spider-webbed personalities and are forever searching for new caskets to conquer.  This is a more or less creaky month for you because the planet Sproingy is directly over your dousing rod and Mercury is influencing your mourners.  This means you should avoid eating gravediggers and stay away from anybody with dust-covered skeletons.  During the coming year you will find conditions getting ancient due to your mildewed outlook on life and your rotting attitude toward ghosts.  You are best suited to a marbled mate with stale headstones and a dark complexion, which means, of course, that you can look forward to a really damp life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those born under the planetary sign of the projectile vomit possess petulant personalities and are forever searching for new chewy granola bars to conquer.  This is a more or less jews harp-playing month for you because the planet Yark is directly over your birdwatcher (or so he says) and Mercury is influencing your hummingbirds.  This means you should avoid eating lip muscle flexors and stay away from anybody with distant, angry elves.  During the coming year you will find conditions getting only open on Tuesdays due to your chubberific outlook on life and your babbling incoherently attitude toward innocent bystanders.  You are best suited to a pantyhose-mask-wearing mate with hovering, freakish Disney stars and a won't-apply-itself complexion, which means, of course, that you can look forward to a really squealing life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6320786624029578024?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6320786624029578024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6320786624029578024&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6320786624029578024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6320786624029578024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/09/horoscope.html' title='Horoscope'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-674744454965425113</id><published>2010-09-17T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T00:00:07.764-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Club Meeting</title><content type='html'>It’s a pleasure to see so many (adjective) members of our (noun) Club here this evening.  I would like to thank (name of host or hostess) for allowing us to meet here in this (adjective) home.  At our last meeting, you will remember, (name of woman in room) spoke to us about her experiences among the (plural noun) of Central Mexico.  This evening (name of man in room) has promised to play a few selections on his (noun).  And (a celebrity) will show us how he converted an old (noun) into a beautiful (noun).  Later, (name of woman in room) will show us her new (noun) and tell us where we can get the materials to make one.  Afterwards we will retire to the (adjective) (noun) for some (adjective) refreshments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a pleasure to see so many distracted-by-dust-motes members of our Annoying Soup Slurp Club here this evening.  I would like to thank the Commander for allowing us to meet here in this ingenious home.  At our last meeting, you will remember, Madge spoke to us about her experiences among the rancid pork chops of Central Mexico.  This evening Angry Elf has promised to play a few selections on his runaway hog.  And Craig Slist will show us how he converted an old cookie-crammer into a beautiful pew.  Later, Consuelo will show us her new fishnet stocking and tell us where we can get the materials to make one.  Afterwards we will retire to the threaded-through-belt-loops special brownie for some carrot-eating refreshments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a pleasure to see so many perspiring members of our Roulette Wheel Club here this evening.  I would like to thank Mildred for allowing us to meet here in this conspiring home.  At our last meeting, you will remember, Veronica spoke to us about her experiences among the Korean glass noodles of Central Mexico.  This evening Clyde has promised to play a few selections on his beachfront property.  And Jillian from the Biggest Loser will show us how she converted an old ballistic missile into a beautiful army engineer.  Later, Patsy will show us her new spanking machine and tell us where we can get the materials to make one.  Afterwards we will retire to the retiring peach cobbler for some inflexible refreshments.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-674744454965425113?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/674744454965425113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=674744454965425113&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/674744454965425113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/674744454965425113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/09/club-meeting.html' title='Club Meeting'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1913933483009237356</id><published>2010-09-10T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T00:00:03.249-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>School Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;In honor of school starting this week...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things were different when I went to school.  First of all, we didn't have any (plural noun) to do our math for us.  We would add columns of (plural noun) to other columns of (plural noun) to master addition.  We had to sit (adverb) when the teacher lectured to us about American (noun) and English (noun).  Every day at lunch we would eat a/an (an animal) sandwich, a (noun) and a glass of (liquid).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Science lab, we dissected a/an (noun) and saw its (noun) and (noun).  Some people got sick and (verb, past tense) when we did this.  Sometimes we would have a (noun) show.  Some of the students would (verb) to (noun) music, while others recited (plural noun).  The best was when three boys juggled (plural noun) while turning (plural noun) and standing on their (part of body, plural).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things were different when I went to school.  First of all, we didn't have any pencil-neck geeks to do our math for us.  We would add columns of Andrews Sisters to other columns of Queen fans to master addition.  We had to sit outrageously when the teacher lectured to us about American bend and snap and English history major.  Every day at lunch we would eat a gecko sandwich, a diphead and a glass of nostril sauce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Science lab, we dissected an obscene bumper sticker and saw its skylark and annoying lip twitch.  Some people got sick and smirked when we did this.  Sometimes we would have a coffee table crasher show.  Some of the students would trip over nothing to halo wearer music, while others recited lightning rods.  The best was when three boys juggled weird artists who smear themselves with chocolate onstage while turning kitty eyes and standing on their arm waddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things were different when I went to school.  First of all, we didn't have any mops to do our math for us.  We would add columns of brooms to other columns of latex gloves to master addition.  We had to sit with attention to detail when the teacher lectured to us about American duster and English lemon Pledge.  Every day at lunch we would eat a guinea pig sandwich, a rag and a glass of glass cleaner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Science lab, we dissected Lysol and saw its bleach and squeegee.  Some people got sick and scrubbed when we did this.  Sometimes we would have a spray bottle show.  Some of the students would polish to gum scraper music, while others recited detergents.  The best was when three boys juggled janitors while turning trash cans and standing on their fingernails.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1913933483009237356?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1913933483009237356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1913933483009237356&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1913933483009237356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1913933483009237356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/09/school-days.html' title='School Days'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-8293277081007595263</id><published>2010-09-03T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T00:00:04.485-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>How To Do That New Dance, the Monstrosity</title><content type='html'>Here's how you do the Monstrosity.  First, stand with your feet together.  Now move your left foot (adverb) to the side.  Now stamp your right foot (number) times and put your hands on your partner's (plural noun).  Next, you both (verb) slowly to the right and bend your (part of the body) backward.  Now for the next eight counts, both of you (verb) (adverb) to the left.  Next, you and your partner stand back to back and wiggle your (plural noun) and slap your (plural noun) together.  Don't forget to keep stamping your right foot.  Now face your partner again, put your (plural noun) together and shout, "(nonsense word)!"  Now (verb) backward and repeat the whole thing (number) times.  If you feel that you can't learn this dance, you can always (verb) the next one out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie's son and daughter said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how you do the Monstrosity.  First, stand with your feet together.  Now move your left foot tissue-pullingly to the side.  Now stamp your right foot 23 times and put your hands on your partner's "Ugh" shouters.  Next, you both barf slowly to the right and bend your elbow-pinchie backward.  Now for the next eight counts, both of you put fingers in a moving fan cat-lickingly to the left.  Next, you and your partner stand back to back and wiggle your annoying bells and slap your potato chips together.  Don't forget to keep stamping your right foot.  Now face your partner again, put your butt slappers together and shout, "Shmeowzow!"  Now lick an exhaust pipe backward and repeat the whole thing 57 times.  If you feel that you can't learn this dance, you can always cow-tip the next one out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how you do the Monstrosity.  First, stand with your feet together.  Now move your left foot painstakingly to the side.  Now stamp your right foot 77 times and put your hands on your partner's wildfires.  Next, you both jiggle slowly to the right and bend your sacrum backward.  Now for the next eight counts, both of you spank shockingly to the left.  Next, you and your partner stand back to back and wiggle your jello-filled pools and slap your mannequins together.  Don't forget to keep stamping your right foot.  Now face your partner again, put your prawns together and shout, "Sploink!"  Now dance the electric slide backward and repeat the whole thing 6.2 times.  If you feel that you can't learn this dance, you can always irritate the next one out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-8293277081007595263?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/8293277081007595263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=8293277081007595263&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8293277081007595263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8293277081007595263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/09/how-to-do-that-new-dance-monstrosity.html' title='How To Do That New Dance, the Monstrosity'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-3574291129617477445</id><published>2010-08-27T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T06:50:00.666-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Chinese Dinner</title><content type='html'>I recently had dinner at a new Chinese restaurant.  The cooking is (adjective) and the service is (adjective).  The owner of the restaurant, (celebrity), suggested that for my first course I have sweet and (adjective) spare ribs, which is a specialty of the (noun).  They were (adjective).  For the next course, I was served a/an (adjective) (noun) soup.  The main course consisted of Egg Foo (noun), lobster in (food) sauce, and pressed (food).  For dessert, I ordered those famous Chinese (noun) cookies with sliced (food).  But whenever I eat Chinese food, an hour later I feel (adjective) again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie's sister and brother-in-law said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently had dinner at a new Chinese restaurant.  The cooking is stout and muumuu-wearing and the service is fish face-resembling.  The owner of the restaurant, Rodney Dangerfield, suggested that for my first course I have sweet and sloppy spare ribs, which is a specialty of the stub tail jewelry.  They were extremely deep belly button-having.  For the next course, I was served a poo-encrusted drool cup soup.  The main course consisted of Egg Foo Pus-y Nipple Hair, lobster in dog salad sauce, and pressed fish taco.  For dessert, I ordered those famous Chinese butt hair cookies with sliced hamburger jello.  But whenever I eat Chinese food, an hour later I feel purple and dimpled again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently had dinner at a new Chinese restaurant.  The cooking is pansy-faced and the service is stray cat strutting.  The owner of the restaurant, Elton John, suggested that for my first course I have sweet and swanky spare ribs, which is a specialty of the rainbow clown wig.  They were wedgie-distributing.  For the next course, I was served a politically incorrect gold tooth soup.  The main course consisted of Egg Foo Watermelon, lobster in chicken chimichanga sauce, and pressed tapioca.  For dessert, I ordered those famous Chinese urinal cookies with sliced smelt.  But whenever I eat Chinese food, an hour later I feel bedazzled again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-3574291129617477445?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/3574291129617477445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=3574291129617477445&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3574291129617477445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3574291129617477445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/08/chinese-dinner.html' title='Chinese Dinner'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-5387469434956044187</id><published>2010-08-16T08:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T08:05:38.051-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacay</title><content type='html'>We're taking a break from Mad Libs this week.  See you next Monday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-5387469434956044187?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/5387469434956044187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=5387469434956044187&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5387469434956044187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5387469434956044187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/08/vacay.html' title='Vacay'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-3830871086285646949</id><published>2010-08-13T09:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-14T11:37:25.321-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>A Fable</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time there was a very curious girl who was always poking her nose into everybody's (plural noun).  She kept company with a/an (adjective) man named (name of man in room), who was always buying her (adjective) presents.  Once he gave her a diamond (noun) to wear on her (noun), and he bought her a/an (adjective) (noun) to wear in her (noun).  Then one day he bought her a/an (adjective) horse.  As soon as she saw the (adjective) animal, she began to examine it (adverb).  First she looked at the horse's (noun), and then at its (noun).  Then she opened its mouth so she could look at its (noun).  At this, the horse became (adjective) and bit off her (noun).&lt;br /&gt;MORAL: Never look a gift horse in the (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time there was a very curious girl who was always poking her nose into everybody's coconuts.  She kept company with a death-defying man named Moondoggie, who was always buying her shark-infested presents.  Once he gave her a diamond boogie board to wear on her lifeguard tower, and he bought her a tsunami-sized sand dollar to wear in her board shorts.  Then one day he bought her a competitive horse.  As soon as she saw the blue animal, she began to examine it swimmingly.  First she looked at the horse's pineapple, and then at its roasted pig.  Then she opened its mouth so she could look at its luau.  At this, the horse became grass skirt-wearing and bit off her carnuba wax.&lt;br /&gt;MORAL: Never look a gift horse in the Big Kahuna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time there was a very curious girl who was always poking her nose into everybody's kitty pants.  She kept company with a whimsical man named Carl, who was always buying her rooster-obsessed presents.  Once he gave her a diamond angry cockroach to wear on her pool noodle, and he bought her a clownlike, recently-swirlied freshman to wear in her hot buttered seduction on a stick.  Then one day he bought her a goofily grinning horse.  As soon as she saw the striped animal, she began to examine it momentarily.  First she looked at the horse's crankjob, and then at its Costco addict.  Then she opened its mouth so she could look at its pantyhose mask.  At this, the horse became stripped of inhibition and bit off her breath mint.&lt;br /&gt;MORAL: Never look a gift horse in the vacuum hose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-3830871086285646949?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/3830871086285646949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=3830871086285646949&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3830871086285646949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3830871086285646949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/08/fable.html' title='A Fable'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-4070958700715632029</id><published>2010-08-06T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T08:00:04.710-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>A Family Car Trip</title><content type='html'>KID: I'm starved, Mom.  My (part of the body) is growling.&lt;br /&gt;MOM: I think you've had enough (noun) food today.  You ate enough to choke a (noun).&lt;br /&gt;KID: But I'm a growing (noun).  Dad, can we stop and get a hamburger with (plural noun) and (plural noun)?&lt;br /&gt;DAD: You just had a/an (adjective) breakfast!&lt;br /&gt;KID: No I didn't.  All I had was a couple of scrambled (plural noun) and a glass of (liquid).&lt;br /&gt;MOM: How about those five pieces of buttered (noun), plus that stack of (plural noun)?&lt;br /&gt;KID: (Exclamation)!  I have to go to the (noun) room.  Can we stop?  I have to go real (adjective)!&lt;br /&gt;DAD: Okay.  It'll give me a chance to stretch my (plural noun).&lt;br /&gt;MOM: Stop at that diner.  I can use a cup of strong (liquid).&lt;br /&gt;KID: As long as we're stopping, can I have a grilled (noun) and some (adjective) fries?  That'll hold me until lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KID: I'm starved, Mom.  My umbilicus is growling.&lt;br /&gt;MOM: I think you've had enough Weinermobile food today.  You ate enough to choke a disaster.&lt;br /&gt;KID: But I'm a growing mudslinger.  Dad, can we stop and get a hamburger with tiaras and beef jerky canisters that still smell like beef jerky?&lt;br /&gt;DAD: You just had an injected-with-lard breakfast!&lt;br /&gt;KID: No I didn't.  All I had was a couple of scrambled Cub Scouts and a glass of spit.&lt;br /&gt;MOM: How about those five pieces of buttered dew drop, plus that stack of bathroom tile?&lt;br /&gt;KID: Heavens to Betsy!  I have to go to the Crunchberry room.  Can we stop?  I have to go real befuddled!&lt;br /&gt;DAD: Okay.  It'll give me a chance to stretch my age spots.&lt;br /&gt;MOM: Stop at that diner.  I can use a cup of strong cantaloupe juice.&lt;br /&gt;KID: As long as we're stopping, can I have a grilled disgruntled postal worker and some road rage-afflicted fries?  That'll hold me until lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KID: I'm starved, Mom.  My clavicle is growling.&lt;br /&gt;MOM: I think you've had enough cotton candy food today.  You ate enough to choke a watermelon rind.&lt;br /&gt;KID: But I'm a growing county fair.  Dad, can we stop and get a hamburger with rodeo clowns and elephant ears?&lt;br /&gt;DAD: You just had a fresh squeezed breakfast!&lt;br /&gt;KID: No I didn't.  All I had was a couple of scrambled tickets and a glass of funnel cake batter.&lt;br /&gt;MOM: How about those five pieces of buttered Zipper, plus that stack of Sno-Cones?&lt;br /&gt;KID: YeeHAW!  I have to go to the corn on the cob room.  Can we stop?  I have to go real recently milked!&lt;br /&gt;DAD: Okay.  It'll give me a chance to stretch my vendors.&lt;br /&gt;MOM: Stop at that diner.  I can use a cup of strong sweat from a cowboy's brow.&lt;br /&gt;KID: As long as we're stopping, can I have a grilled 4-H Club and some impossible to win fries?  That'll hold me until lunch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-4070958700715632029?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/4070958700715632029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=4070958700715632029&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4070958700715632029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4070958700715632029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/08/family-car-trip.html' title='A Family Car Trip'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-4444914362327745166</id><published>2010-07-30T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T07:22:06.420-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Charity Drive Letter</title><content type='html'>Dear (name of person in room),&lt;br /&gt;I’m sure you’ve heard of our organization, “The Society for the Prevention of (adjective) (plural noun).”  We are currently having a drive to raise (number) dollars to build an up-to-date (noun) for underprivileged (plural noun).  I know that as one of the leading (plural noun) of your community you will want to contribute to this (adjective) cause.  Our president (celebrity) and our treasurer (celebrity) have been connected with many (adjective) charities.  They urge you to reach down into your (noun) and give.  Even if it’s only a/an (noun).  The money will finance our (adjective) out-patient clinic where anyone who thinks he has (a liquid) in his (plural noun) can come and have our (adjective) doctors x-ray his (noun).  Eventually we hope to stamp out (plural noun) altogether.&lt;br /&gt;(Signed) (name of person in room)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Gomez,&lt;br /&gt;I’m sure you’ve heard of our organization, “The Society for the Prevention of Lactose-intolerant Turkey Breast Slices.”  We are currently having a drive to raise 27 dollars to build an up-to-date Army private for underprivileged never-flattering sleeveless shirts.  I know that as one of the leading drunken monkeys of your community you will want to contribute to this curtsying cause.  Our president, the Quaker Oats guy, and our treasurer, Aunt Jemima, have been connected with many incandescent charities.  They urge you to reach down into your chin hickey and give.  Even if it’s only a toenail.  The money will finance our see-through out-patient clinic where anyone who thinks he has peach nectar in his camel riders can come and have our trolloplike doctors x-ray his drawer pull.  Eventually we hope to stamp out stinkbombs altogether.&lt;br /&gt;(Signed) Furgler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Beatrice,&lt;br /&gt;I’m sure you’ve heard of our organization, “The Society for the Prevention of Stuffed Soldiers.”  We are currently having a drive to raise 2 dollars to build an up-to-date Cupid for underprivileged maidens.  I know that as one of the leading squires of your community you will want to contribute to this pernicious cause.  Our president Kenneth Branaugh and our treasurer Emma Thompson have been connected with many suspicious charities.  They urge you to reach down into your arrow and give.  Even if it’s only a wedding.  The money will finance our invisible out-patient clinic where anyone who thinks he has blood in his letters can come and have our obstinate doctors x-ray his prince.  Eventually we hope to stamp out winebibbers altogether.&lt;br /&gt;(Signed) Benedick&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-4444914362327745166?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/4444914362327745166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=4444914362327745166&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4444914362327745166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4444914362327745166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/07/charity-drive-letter.html' title='Charity Drive Letter'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-8666750598012875673</id><published>2010-07-23T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T08:00:04.897-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>How To Enjoy Yourself on the Beach</title><content type='html'>When you go to the beach, you must take along a big blanket, a thermos bottle full of (a liquid), lots of suntan (something icky) and a couple of folding (pieces of furniture).  Then you put on your (article of clothing) so you can get a beautiful (a color) to last you all summer.  You also should have a big hat to keep the sun off your (part of body).  If you want exercise, you can find some (plural noun) to play volleyball with.  Volleyball is America's favorite (adjective) game.  You can also bring a/an (adjective) lunch, such as hard-boiled (plural noun), a few (an animal) sandwiches with mustard and some bottles of (a silly word) cola.  If you remember all of the above and get a place near a/an (adjective) lifeguard, you can sunbathe (adverb) all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you go to the beach, you must take along a big blanket, a thermos bottle full of plasma, lots of suntan snot and a couple of folding hammocks.  Then you put on your mankini so you can get a beautiful fuschia to last you all summer.  You also should have a big hat to keep the sun off your ear canal.  If you want exercise, you can find some ski bums to play volleyball with.  Volleyball is America's favorite Scottie dog-obsessed game.  You can also bring a run over by a bicycle lunch, such as hard-boiled cranky old men, a few llama sandwiches with mustard and some bottles of Gachuey-chuey cola.  If you remember all of the above and get a place near an extremely hairy lifeguard, you can sunbathe lustily all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you go to the beach, you must take along a big blanket, a thermos bottle full of melted slushy, lots of suntan crusty nose hair and a couple of folding foot stools.  Then you put on your caftan so you can get a beautiful beige to last you all summer.  You also should have a big hat to keep the sun off your phalange.  If you want exercise, you can find some Kitchenaid mixers to play volleyball with.  Volleyball is America's favorite serendipitous game.  You can also bring a striped lunch, such as hard-boiled bellboys, a few sloth sandwiches with mustard and some bottles of Dlangy cola.  If you remember all of the above and get a place near a hive-inducing lifeguard, you can sunbathe obtusely all day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-8666750598012875673?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/8666750598012875673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=8666750598012875673&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8666750598012875673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8666750598012875673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/07/how-to-enjoy-yourself-on-beach.html' title='How To Enjoy Yourself on the Beach'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-2253550526559362942</id><published>2010-07-16T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T08:16:45.682-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Uncle Dudley's Farm</title><content type='html'>My dad says Uncle Dudley's favorite expression is "The early (noun) catches the (noun)," and boy is Dad right.  When we stay at Uncle Dudley's (adjective) farm, he drags us out of bed even before the rooster (verb ending in S) or the (noun) comes up.  And right after we eat a/an (adjective) breakfast, we have to milk the cows, feed the (plural noun), and groom the (plural noun).  Only when we've finished our (plural noun), can we go out and play hide and (verb), go bare (part of body) riding on the horses, or even skinny-(verb ending in ING) in the old swimming (noun).  Dad thinks Uncle Dudley is a/an (adjective) (noun), but to tell the (adjective) truth, I love spending time on his (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad says Uncle Dudley's favorite expression is "The early beach catches the swimming pool," and boy is Dad right.  When we stay at Uncle Dudley's sweltering farm, he drags us out of bed even before the rooster escapes or the lifeguard comes up.  And right after we eat a sunburned breakfast, we have to milk the cows, feed the otter pops, and groom the squirt guns.  Only when we've finished our shady places, can we go out and play hide and cool down, go bare inner elbow riding on the horses, or even skinny-smiling in the old swimming smoothie.  Dad thinks Uncle Dudley is an air conditioned sprinkler, but to tell the sweaty truth, I love spending time on his slip and slide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad says Uncle Dudley's favorite expression is "The early Red Wings jersey catches the Ferrari," and boy is Dad right.  When we stay at Uncle Dudley's fakily snoring farm, he drags us out of bed even before the rooster resents or the pit bull comes up.  And right after we eat a school-skipping breakfast, we have to milk the cows, feed the Ferris Bueller disciples, and groom the foul balls.  Only when we've finished our licked palms, can we go out and play hide and make out with Druggie Guy, go bare-split lip riding on the horses, or even skinny-White Out-sniffing in the old swimming gummy bear.  Dad thinks Uncle Dudley is a real warm and soft police station, but to tell the barfing up a lung truth, I love spending time on his pancreas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad says Uncle Dudley's favorite expression is "The early rocking recliner catches the clean car," and boy is Dad right.  When we stay at Uncle Dudley's lazy farm, he drags us out of bed even before the rooster socializes or the Sr. Seuss comes up.  And right after we eat a decrepit breakfast, we have to milk the cows, feed the girl jeans, and groom the dirty dishes.  Only when we've finished our sprinkler system valves, can we go out and play hide and complain, go bare big toe toenail riding on the horses, or even skinny-whining in the old swimming cliche.  Dad thinks Uncle Dudley is an excuse-making obnoxious teen, but to tell the wholly annoying truth, I love spending time on his quiet house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-2253550526559362942?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/2253550526559362942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=2253550526559362942&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2253550526559362942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2253550526559362942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/07/uncle-dudleys-farm.html' title='Uncle Dudley&apos;s Farm'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-4653315037395522672</id><published>2010-07-09T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T23:14:35.592-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>A Letter of Complaint</title><content type='html'>Dear Sir or (noun), &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just spent a miserable weekend at your (adjective) hotel.  Your advertisement in my hometown (noun) was an outrageous (noun).  You said you provided guests with a welcome basket of (plural noun).  All I found in my room was a trash (noun) filled with old (plural noun).  You also claimed to offer free overnight (verb ending in "ING") in your garage.  Not true, Fella.  Your garage was all filled up, and I had to park my new (noun) across the street in a vacant (noun).  It was stolen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about your hotel staff - they were (adverb) inadequate.  Your so-called expert masseur not only stuck a finger in my (noun), but he broke two of my (part of the body - plural) while giving me a Swedish (noun).  Your room service was a/an (adjective) joke!  They not only served burnt (noun) but spilled a hot cup of (noun) all over my newly pressed (noun).  I had to go to a business meeting wearing a/an (noun)!  I'm planning to sue you for a million (plural noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sir or Lion, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just spent a miserable weekend at your chest-thumping hotel.  Your advertisement in my hometown penguin was an outrageous lorakeet.  You said you provided guests with a welcome basket of chew toys.  All I found in my room was a trash zookeeper filled with old pooper scoopers.  You also claimed to offer free overnight feeding in your garage.  Not true, Fella.  Your garage was all filled up, and I had to park my new elephant ear across the street in a vacant gift shop.  It was stolen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about your hotel staff - they were facetiously inadequate.  Your so-called expert masseur not only stuck a finger in my lost child, but he broke two of my adenoids while giving me a Swedish golf cart.  Your room service was a crowded joke!  They not only served burnt bird of prey but spilled a hot cup of petting zoo all over my newly pressed polar bear.  I had to go to a business meeting wearing a train!  I'm planning to sue you for a million frazzled parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sir or Dishwasher, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just spent a miserable weekend at your annoyed hotel.  Your advertisement in my hometown sneaky-teen-that-thinks-he's-outsmarting-everyone-else was an outrageous Emmett Cullen.  You said you provided guests with a welcome basket of packed suitcases.  All I found in my room was a trash Iggy's Monterey Salad filled with old purchased movie tickets.  You also claimed to offer free overnight blissfully enjoying in your garage.  Not true, Fella.  Your garage was all filled up, and I had to park my new Youth Conference across the street in a vacant solitary time.  It was stolen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about your hotel staff - they were frivolously inadequate.  Your so-called expert masseur not only stuck a finger in my attentive child, but he broke two of my deltoids while giving me a Swedish annoying dog cry.  Your room service was a lazy joke!  They not only served burnt fake tan, but spilled a hot cup of too-ripe banana all over my newly pressed tattoo removal shop.  I had to go to a business meeting wearing an end-of-diet bliss!  I'm planning to sue you for a million weekend plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sir or Slippery Slope, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just spent a miserable weekend at your broccoli-scented hotel.  Your advertisement in my hometown baby puke was an outrageous pie plate.  You said you provided guests with a welcome basket of hatchet toes.  All I found in my room was a trash ugly brown scrunchy filled with old transponders.  You also claimed to offer free overnight crunching in your garage.  Not true, Fella.  Your garage was all filled up, and I had to park my new toothpaste drip across the street in a vacant kitty trousers.  It was stolen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about your hotel staff - they were mockingly inadequate.  Your so-called expert masseur not only stuck a finger in my chickstache, but he broke two of my buttocks while giving me a Swedish obsessed Johnny Depp fan.  Your room service was an overprotective joke!  They not only served burnt chicken Kiev, but spilled a hot cup of inflate-a-date all over my newly pressed Hostess Twinkie.  I had to go to a business meeting wearing an anxiety attack!  I'm planning to sue you for a million goofballs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-4653315037395522672?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/4653315037395522672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=4653315037395522672&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4653315037395522672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4653315037395522672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/07/letter-of-complaint.html' title='A Letter of Complaint'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6964035993499424061</id><published>2010-07-02T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T00:00:01.661-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Fourth of July</title><content type='html'>Every year on the (number)th of (month), we celebrate the Fourth of July.  This holiday commemorates the birth of our (adjective) (noun).  Many (adjective) citizens observe Independence Day by hanging their (noun) from a window or by running it up a/an (adjective) pole.  Most (plural noun) spend this holiday at home with family and (plural noun) or visit national (plural noun) or (adjective) beaches.  Food as American as apple (noun), hamburgers, and corn on the (noun) are traditional holiday (noun).  And in the evening, there are displays of (plural noun), such as Roman (plural noun), shooting (plural noun), and (adjective) rockets that (adverb) (verb) the sky.  A word of caution: Do not use (plural noun) unless you are supervised by a knowledgeable (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year on the 1776th of July, we celebrate the Fourth of July.  This holiday commemorates the birth of our explosive Roman candle.  Many fiery citizens observe Independence Day by hanging their parade from a window or by running it up an independent pole.  Most Pop-its spend this holiday at home with family and sparklers or visit national crackling balls or loud beaches.  Food as American as apple clown, hamburgers, and corn on the M-80 are traditional holiday punk.  And in the evening, there are displays of stink bombs, such as Roman fiery frogs, shooting ground blooms, and illegally bought across the state line rockets that blindingly engulf the sky.  A word of caution: Do not use firemen unless you are supervised by a knowledgeable Fortress of Fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year on the 4 gazillionth of May, we celebrate the Fourth of July.  This holiday commemorates the birth of our ridiculously sorry major suckfest.  Many horrendously sick citizens observe Independence Day by hanging their well-groomed traveler from a window or by running it up a former pole.  Most piles of pistols spend this holiday at home with family and blowing leaves or visit national unlimited texts or threaded beaches.  Food as American as apple spaghetti-stuffed, hamburgers, and corn on the washing machine are traditional holiday new Eclipse movie.  And in the evening, there are displays of board games, such as Roman criminal minds, shooting dusters, and extraordinary rockets that stupendously bulge the sky.  A word of caution: Do not use dancing sisters unless you are supervised by a knowledgeable old song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year on the seventy-twelveth of Octember, we celebrate the Fourth of July.  This holiday commemorates the birth of our cookie-monsterish dipwad.  Many beautiful but evil citizens observe Independence Day by hanging their underwear crease from a window or by running it up a crap-covered pole.  Most sewer-swigging slimeballs spend this holiday at home with family and panty-raiders or visit national Little Rascals or spits-when-talking beaches.  Food as American as apple sheep slurp, hamburgers, and corn on the ugly tie are traditional holiday home teacher.  And in the evening, there are displays of inefficient prison guards, such as Roman old ladies unsafe behind the wheel, shooting leg hairs, and egg-flavored rockets that crankily watusi the sky.  A word of caution: Do not use boom mikes unless you are supervised by a knowledgeable Wonder Woman costume.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6964035993499424061?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6964035993499424061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6964035993499424061&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6964035993499424061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6964035993499424061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/07/fourth-of-july.html' title='Fourth of July'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-3100079093620753129</id><published>2010-06-25T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T10:38:09.344-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Travel Suggestion</title><content type='html'>If you're looking for a place to spend a/an (adjective) honeymoon, think of (adjective) Mexico.  There, under a brilliant, (adjective) sky, you and your (adjective) bride can spend hours inspecting the quaint (plural noun) and the ancient Aztec (plural noun).  You will be fascinated by the (adjective) customs of the natives.  In the evening, you can retire to the local (noun) which is what the Mexicans call their "(noun)", and watch the famous (noun) dance called the "(noun)".  Hotels there have all (adjective) conveniences, including (adjective) water, (adjective) air conditioning, and (adjective) service.  The rates are also very (adjective).  In a few days, you and your bride will be lolling on the (noun), just like the (adjective) natives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're looking for a place to spend a nonplussed honeymoon, think of roadkill-roasting Mexico.  There, under a brilliant, puce sky, you and your scurrilous bride can spend hours inspecting the quaint escaped salamanders and the ancient Aztec Twix wrappers.  You will be fascinated by the "Zippadee-ay"-shouting customs of the natives.  In the evening, you can retire to the local possessed pacemaker which is what the Mexicans call their "ruler-wielding nun," and watch the famous foast pork dance called the "fruit-filled donut."  Hotels there have all narwhalish conveniences, including armpit-hair-sporting water, frantically-looking-for-a-restroom air conditioning, and Church nursery-scented service.  The rates are also very not so fresh.  In a few days, you and your bride will be lolling on the surrey with the fringe on top, just like the slapped often natives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're looking for a place to spend a black and white honeymoon, think of scream-inducing Mexico.  There, under a brilliant, chocolate-spattered sky, you and your feeling-like-someone-is-watching bride can spend hours inspecting the quaint eye-pecking birds and the ancient Aztec Michael Jackson's backup dancers from the Thriller video.  You will be fascinated by the gore-covered customs of the natives.  In the evening, you can retire to the local victim which is what the Mexicans call their "rusty surgical tool," and watch the famous cemetery dance called the "mental patient."  Hotels there have all spine-tingling conveniences, including zombie-like water, smells-like-a-fresh-grave air conditioning, and rotting service.  The rates are also very chainsaw-wielding.  In a few days, you and your bride will be lolling on the secret room under the stairs, just like the stupid-enough-to-walk-into-the-dark-basement-alone natives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-3100079093620753129?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/3100079093620753129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=3100079093620753129&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3100079093620753129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3100079093620753129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/06/travel-suggestion.html' title='Travel Suggestion'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6172481390294619080</id><published>2010-06-18T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T00:00:05.236-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Description of Wedding</title><content type='html'>The (adjective) wedding yesterday afternoon between (adjective) (name of woman) and her groom, (name of man), was carried off (adverb).  The bride wore a long (adjective) (noun) with (adjective) edging and a/an (adjective) neckline.  At the end of the (adjective) ceremony, there wasn't a dry (noun) in the place.  Later, at the reception, the bride's mother said, "The groom is a/an (adjective) man, just the kind of (noun) we wanted for our (adjective) daughter."  The (adjective) couple left midst a flurry of (adjective) congratulations, to spend a/an (adjective) honeymoon visiting (plural noun) in (geographical location).  They are sure to live (adverb) for many years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elbow-licking wedding yesterday afternoon between unbounded Hedwig and her groom, Mortimer, was carried off obscenely.  The bride wore a long white and nerdy flibbertigibbet with weight loss-obsessed edging and a footsie-playing neckline.  At the end of the crusty-eyed ceremony, there wasn't a dry barf particle in the place.  Later, at the reception, the bride's mother said, "The groom is a short fat and slutty man, just the kind of abused pencil we wanted for our melodramatic daughter."  The holiday-Jello-loving couple left midst a flurry of impatient congratulations, to spend a scary beyond all reason honeymoon visiting magpies in Steroid City.  They are sure to live toe-tappingly for many years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The itchy wedding yesterday afternoon between long-winded Nedra Bean and her groom, Llewlyn Brown, was carried off threateningly.  The bride wore a long multi-colored homemade macaroni &amp; cheese with numerical edging and a lazy neckline.  At the end of the rough ceremony, there wasn't a dry headache in the place.  Later, at the reception, the bride's mother said, "The groom is an organized man, just the kind of bike helmet we wanted for our fluffy-ish daughter."  The creepy couple left midst a flurry of salted &amp; roasted congratulations, to spend a misshapen honeymoon visiting potato chip crumbs in Pascagula, Mississippi.  They are sure to live pretzel-resemblingly for many years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teal and silver wedding yesterday afternoon between sleeveless Carrie and her groom, Chuck, was carried off popularly.  The bride wore a long sequined punch bowl with formal edging and a modest neckline.  At the end of the empire waisted ceremony, there wasn't a dry tiara in the place.  Later, at the reception, the bride's mother said, "The groom is a color coordinated man, just the kind of tuxedo we wanted for our theme songed daughter."  The night-of-the-living-dead couple left midst a flurry of decorated by cheerleaders congratulations, to spend a disco ball-inspired honeymoon visiting committee members in the Ballroom of a cruise ship, somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle.  They are sure to live tearfully for many years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6172481390294619080?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6172481390294619080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6172481390294619080&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6172481390294619080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6172481390294619080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/06/description-of-wedding.html' title='Description of Wedding'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-8862115525963608838</id><published>2010-06-11T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T00:00:01.233-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Army Information</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;The birthday of the United States Army is June 14.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you plan on joining the army, here are some (adjective) hints that will help you become a/an (adjective) soldier.  The army is made up of officers, non-coms, and (plural noun).  You can recognize an officer by the (plural noun) on his shoulders and the (noun) on his cap.  When you address an officer, always say "(noun)" and salute (adverb).  If you get a/an (adjective) haircut, keep your (plural noun) shined, and see that your (noun) is clean at all times, you will be a credit to the slogan, "The Army Builds (plural noun)."  And at roll call, when the (adjective) sergeant calls your name, shout "(Exclamation)!" loud and clear.  Also, become familiar with basic weapons such as the thirty-calibre (noun) and the automatic (noun).  Follow this advice and in no time you'll win the (adjective) Conduct (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you plan on joining the army, here are some halfway there hints that will help you become a marshmallow-goo-covered soldier.  The army is made up of officers, non-coms, and sheet-shorters.  You can recognize an officer by the armpit-farters on his shoulders and the hide-a-bed on his cap.  When you address an officer, always say "grilled chicken breast" and salute frothingly.  If you get a spoiled rotten haircut, keep your cranky old women shined, and see that your spanked and screaming child is clean at all times, you will be a credit to the slogan, "The Army Builds Twinkle Toes."  And at roll call, when the dirty-toed sergeant calls your name, shout "Shut up you pinhead! You make me SICK!" loud and clear.  Also, become familiar with basic weapons such as the thirty-calibre butt shrub and the automatic black licorice ice cream.  Follow this advice and in no time you'll win the Keeled-Over-Dead Conduct Ancient M&amp;M found under the loveseat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you plan on joining the army, here are some grated hints that will help you become a cooked soldier.  The army is made up of officers, non-coms, and enchiladas.  You can recognize an officer by the suitcases on his shoulders and the detour on his cap.  When you address an officer, always say "sick and tired" and salute foolishly.  If you get a salty haircut, keep your camping trips shined, and see that your weather station is clean at all times, you will be a credit to the slogan, "The Army Builds Flip-Flops."  And at roll call, when the medicated sergeant calls your name, shout "STOP YOU FOOL!" loud and clear.  Also, become familiar with basic weapons such as the thirty-calibre snow creature and the automatic ancient Chinese man.  Follow this advice and in no time you'll win the Folded Conduct Calculator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you plan on joining the army, here are some gaseous hints that will help you become an interplanetary soldier.  The army is made up of officers, non-coms, and rockets.  You can recognize an officer by the aliens on his shoulders and the UFO on his cap.  When you address an officer, always say "ray gun" and salute gravitationally.  If you get a nebulous haircut, keep your abductees shined, and see that your Area 51 is clean at all times, you will be a credit to the slogan, "The Army Builds Government Conspiracies."  And at roll call, when the experimental sergeant calls your name, shout "Take me to your leader!" loud and clear.  Also, become familiar with basic weapons such as the thirty-calibre probe and the automatic little green man.  Follow this advice and in no time you'll win the Glowing Conduct Tractor Beam.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-8862115525963608838?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/8862115525963608838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=8862115525963608838&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8862115525963608838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8862115525963608838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/06/army-information.html' title='Army Information'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-4489119238162698366</id><published>2010-06-05T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T18:52:27.330-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Bird Watching and Vice Versa</title><content type='html'>Bird watching can be more fun than a barrel of (plural noun). Our (adjective) feathered friends are everywhere, waiting to be watched. An interesting bird to start with is the (adjective) oriole, which builds its nest in (noun) trees. Early in spring we hear the oriole give its mating call, which sounds like this: "(funny noise)." Then the male and female get together and (verb). Later, the female lays (number) eggs. Isn't that (adjective)? Another fascinating bird is the (adjective)-breasted nuthatch. The nuthatch is very tame. He will fly down and land right on your (noun), and eat out of your (plural noun). Other birds to watch out for are the red-crested (noun), the (adjective)-necked thrush, and the yellow-bellied (adjective) sucker. Now that you know something about birds - get out there and watch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bird watching can be more fun than a barrel of pigs in blankets.  Our syrup-covered feathered friends are everywhere, waiting to be watched. An interesting bird to start with is the sugar sprinkled oriole, which builds its nest in pancake trees. Early in spring we hear the oriole give its mating call, which sounds like this: "Aaaoooooga!"  Then the male and female get together and flip. Later, the female lays 13 eggs. Isn't that well done? Another fascinating bird is the over easy-breasted nuthatch. The nuthatch is very tame. He will fly down and land right on your waffle, and eat out of your bacon strips. Other birds to watch out for are the red-crested fried egg, the special-necked thrush, and the yellow-bellied browned sucker. Now that you know something about birds - get out there and watch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bird watching can be more fun than a barrel of panic attacks. Our girlfriend-hiding feathered friends are everywhere, waiting to be watched. An interesting bird to start with is the dimpled oriole, which builds its nest in dial-a-cat trees. Early in spring we hear the oriole give its mating call, which sounds like this: "spelunk." Then the male and female get together and drop-kick. Later, the female lays 276 eggs. Isn't that constipated on macaroni?  Another fascinating bird is the rancid-breasted nuthatch. The nuthatch is very tame. He will fly down and land right on your dipwad, and eat out of your gift baskets. Other birds to watch out for are the red-crested loaded for bear, the tuna-sniffing-necked thrush, and the yellow-bellied fat sucker. Now that you know something about birds - get out there and watch!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-4489119238162698366?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/4489119238162698366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=4489119238162698366&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4489119238162698366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4489119238162698366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/06/bird-watching-and-vice-versa.html' title='Bird Watching and Vice Versa'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-2349742094309718715</id><published>2010-05-28T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T08:00:00.880-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Acacia'/><title type='text'>An Adult Western</title><content type='html'>Tex (last name of man in room), the marshal of Dodge City, rode into town.  He sat (adverb) in the saddle, ready for trouble.  He knew that his (adjective) enemy, (first name of man in room) the Kid, was in town.  The Kid was in love with Tex’s horse, (first name of woman in room).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Suddenly the Kid came out of the (adjective) Nugget Saloon.  “Draw, Tex!” he yelled (adverb).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Tex reached for his (noun), but before he could get it out of his (noun), the Kid fired twice, hitting Tex in the (noun) and the (noun).  As Tex fell, he pulled his own (noun) and shot the Kid (number) times in the (noun).  The Kid dropped in a pool of (liquid).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     “(Exclamation)!” Tex said.  “I hated to do it, but he was on the wrong side of the (noun).”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Acacia said...&lt;/em&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;  Tex Rockafeller, the marshal of Dodge City, rode into town.  He sat devastatingly in the saddle, ready for trouble.  He knew that his axiomatic enemy, Massive Headwound Harry the Kid, was in town.  The Kid was in love with Tex’s horse, She-Ra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Suddenly the Kid came out of the Putrid Nugget Saloon.  “Draw, Tex!” he yelled quietly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Tex reached for his aromatic candle, but before he could get it out of his roll of toilet paper, the Kid fired twice, hitting Tex in the Christmas music CD and the Icy Hot Patch.  As Tex fell, he pulled his own rusty nail and shot the Kid 815 times in the UPS delivery truck.  The Kid dropped in a pool of Diet Coke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     “ShaZOWIE!” Tex said.  “I hated to do it, but he was on the wrong side of the chocolate chip cookie.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Tex McGillicutty, the marshal of Dodge City, rode into town.  He sat salaciously in the saddle, ready for trouble.  He knew that his perspiring enemy, Patrick the Kid, was in town.  The Kid was in love with Tex’s horse, Dora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Suddenly the Kid came out of the Strutting like a Peacock Nugget Saloon.  “Draw, Tex!” he yelled ingratiatingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Tex reached for his over easy egg, but before he could get it out of his salad shooter, the Kid fired twice, hitting Tex in the cheese and the 1 lb chub of spicy sausage.  As Tex fell, he pulled his own George Foreman indoor grill and shot the Kid 1.7 times in the pepper.  The Kid dropped in a pool of lighter fluid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     “Holy pink tutued flamingos, Batman!” Tex said.  “I hated to do it, but he was on the wrong side of Johnny's All purpose seasoning salt that makes everything taste better.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Tex Raunchbreath, the marshal of Dodge City, rode into town.  He sat gesticulatingly in the saddle, ready for trouble.  He knew that his noodle-loving enemy, Trench the Kid, was in town.  The Kid was in love with Tex’s horse, Blanche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Suddenly the Kid came out of the Spastic Nugget Saloon.  “Draw, Tex!” he yelled sushi-eatingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Tex reached for his stank, but before he could get it out of his enormous blackhead, the Kid fired twice, hitting Tex in the water feature and the flashing red button that makes no sense.  As Tex fell, he pulled his own milk mustache and shot the Kid 2387 times in the pencil shaving.  The Kid dropped in a pool of sheep lip ooze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     “Ria-ria-moonacah!” Tex said.  “I hated to do it, but he was on the wrong side of the pig drip.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-2349742094309718715?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/2349742094309718715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=2349742094309718715&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2349742094309718715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2349742094309718715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/05/adult-western.html' title='An Adult Western'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-1975041214293323118</id><published>2010-05-21T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T09:02:12.123-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>How to Go to Sleep</title><content type='html'>If you have trouble falling asleep, you probably have a/an (adjective) mind.  You must learn to relax so you will have a/an (adjective) mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, drink a cup of hot (liquid) and stretch out on a/an (adjective) bed in a/an (adjective) position.  Then, breathe (adverb) and think about something beautiful such as (adjective) (plural noun).  Do not think about your (adjective) enemies.  Concentrate on someone restful, such as (female's name), who will make your mind more (adjective).  Or count imaginary (plural noun) jumping over a/an (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Follow these rules and you will fall into a/an (adjective) sleep the minute your (noun) hits the pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have trouble falling asleep, you probably have a licked like an ice cream cone mind.  You must learn to relax so you will have a frozen in time mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, drink a cup of hot calf slobber and stretch out on an anxiously fly-swatting bed in an afraid of catching a nasty virus and lives in a house of Kleenex position.  Then, breathe gutterball-rollingly and think about something beautiful such as constantly-poking-others rolling pins.  Do not think about your flipped upside down enemies.  Concentrate on someone restful, such as Tiger Lily, who will make your mind more IHOP-frequenting.  Or count imaginary, annoyingly long guitar solos jumping over a high school flame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Follow these rules and you will fall into a hollow-legged sleep the minute your dried drool flake hits the pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have trouble falling asleep, you probably have a smarmy mind.  You must learn to relax so you will have a swarthy mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, drink a cup of hot lemon-scented dish soap and stretch out on a warty bed in a sordid position.  Then, breathe shiftily and think about something beautiful such as blank bubbles.  Do not think about your svelte enemies.  Concentrate on someone restful, such as Madge, who will make your mind more smelly.  Or count imaginary dishpan hands jumping over a scrubby sponge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Follow these rules and you will fall into a robust sleep the minute your SOS pad hits the pillow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-1975041214293323118?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/1975041214293323118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=1975041214293323118&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1975041214293323118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/1975041214293323118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/05/how-to-go-to-sleep.html' title='How to Go to Sleep'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-524833108676208999</id><published>2010-05-14T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T09:59:59.301-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Fable</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time a/an (adjective) (noun) expert named (name of person in room) felt a/an (adjective) pain.  He sent for a/an (adjective) surgeon who looked at his (adjective) stomach and said, "(Exclamation)!"  Then he muttered (adverb), "I see your trouble.  The (noun) on your (adjective) stomach is overlapping the (noun) next to your kidney."  The surgeon (adverb) took him to the (adjective) operating room of the hospital.  There he made a/an (adjective) incision reaching from the patient's (noun) to his (noun).  "(Exclamation)!" said the surgeon.  "That takes care of that (adjective) (noun)."  With that, he began sewing up the incision.  However, on the tenth stitch the patient sneezed and almost pulled the (noun) out of the (noun), but the surgeon took one final stitch and saved the (noun).&lt;br /&gt;MORAL: A/An (noun) in time saves nine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time a goose-pimply meth mouth expert named Willard Undertaker felt a bejeweled pain.  He sent for an out of walnuts surgeon who looked at his trampy-looking stomach and said, "It's my wedding day - why do I look so annoyed?!"  Then he muttered bug zappingly, "I see your trouble.  The coconut milk on your in love with Swiper stomach is overlapping the newly-bereft-of-stuff-and-really-cranky hoarder next to your kidney."  The surgeon seductively took him to the dead-eyed operating room of the hospital.  There he made a stacked incision reaching from the patient's weed to his child-injuring Tonka truck.  "Holy Frijole!" said the surgeon.  "That takes care of that Fronch crusty TV remote."  With that, he began sewing up the incision.  However, on the tenth stitch the patient sneezed and almost pulled the ceiling cobweb out of the chandelier pendant, but the surgeon took one final stitch and saved the clown shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL: A thing caught between your teeth in time saves nine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time a mangy lemonade expert named Captain Underpants felt a stick-to-your-ribs-good pain.  He sent for a vomit-inducing surgeon who looked at his smelly stomach and said, "SOY SAUCE!"  Then he muttered willingly, "I see your trouble.  The fountain on your rose-petalled stomach is overlapping the glass eye next to your kidney."  The surgeon unobtrusively took him to the endlessly churning operating room of the hospital.  There he made a Solid Gold dancing incision reaching from the patient's dog named Pete to his monkey's paw.  "I should've had a V-8!" said the surgeon.  "That takes care of that handmade Owl Creek Bridge."  With that, he began sewing up the incision.  However, on the tenth stitch the patient sneezed and almost pulled the Raven out of the Cask of Amontillado, but the surgeon took one final stitch and saved the Tell-Tale Heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL: A Masquerade in time saves nine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time a depressed baby diaper expert named Martin Bradshaw felt a baby blue pain.  He sent for a partied out surgeon who looked at his snotty stomach and said, "Holy Batman!"  Then he muttered stunningly, "I see your trouble.  The dog pound on your fluffy stomach is overlapping the place we call work next to your kidney."  The surgeon flatly took him to the squarishly round operating room of the hospital.  There he made an intoxicated incision reaching from the patient's cute little dog called Squirt to his Forks, Washington.  "What the Cabbage!" said the surgeon.  "That takes care of that quiet high school."  With that, he began sewing up the incision.  However, on the tenth stitch the patient sneezed and almost pulled the Jeep out of the banana, but the surgeon took one final stitch and saved the ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL: A hospital in time saves nine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-524833108676208999?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/524833108676208999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=524833108676208999&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/524833108676208999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/524833108676208999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/05/fable.html' title='Fable'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-4241976566936874722</id><published>2010-05-07T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T06:28:52.299-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FluffyChicky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lt Col Samantha Carter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>A Letter to a Resort Hotel</title><content type='html'>To the Manager of (last name)'s HOTEL, 344 (person's name) Street, (a location), California.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear, Sir, Madam or (noun), &lt;br /&gt;I would like to reserve a/an (noun) at your (adjective) hotel for two weeks in August.  We will need a room for myself, my wife, and our two (plural noun).  We would like a double (noun) with a view of the (plural noun).  I understand that your rate includes a continental breakfast consisting of a/an (adjective) French roll and (a food) preserves and a pot of hot (liquid).  I would also like to reserve a side trip to (a place) and to the (last name) Canyon.  My wife and I will go to the canyon alone.  We will leave our smallest (noun) with his (adjective) brother at the swimming pool.  We were at your hotel last year and had a simply (adjective) time and we look forward to fourteen days of relaxing (adverb) in your luxurious (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the Manager of Schwendimann's HOTEL, 344 Fred Gibbs Street, Hell's Kitchen, California.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear, Sir, Madam or shrimp bait, &lt;br /&gt;I would like to reserve a fountain of sludge at your fresh (and not in a good way) hotel for two weeks in August.  We will need a room for myself, my wife, and our two prunes.  We would like a double wedding ring indentation with a view of the slug trails.  I understand that your rate includes a continental breakfast consisting of a dipstick-resembling French roll and hummus preserves and a pot of hot sneeze juice.  I would also like to reserve a side trip to the Titanic and to the Toothloser Canyon.  My wife and I will go to the canyon alone.  We will leave our smallest new car smell with his coffee-flavored brother at the swimming pool.  We were at your hotel last year and had a simply profusely sweating time and we look forward to fourteen days of relaxing sneakily in your luxurious sippy cup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the Manager of Brynjulfsen's HOTEL, 344 Harry Butts Street, The Twilight zone, California.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear, Sir, Madam or Studebaker, &lt;br /&gt;I would like to reserve a Vespa at your psychadelic hotel for two weeks in August.  We will need a room for myself, my wife, and our two acrobatic monkeys.  We would like a double quilt made by your great Aunt Nan that is made from mismatched baby clothes that never even belonged to you with a view of the participants in a Zumba class.  I understand that your rate includes a continental breakfast consisting of a reminiscent of a disco ball French roll and chocolate-covered ants preserves and a pot of hot sweat of my brow.  I would also like to reserve a side trip to the trunk of a mafia member's car and to the Fairchild Canyon.  My wife and I will go to the canyon alone.  We will leave our smallest adult tricycle coveted by Millie with his plural brother at the swimming pool.  We were at your hotel last year and had a simply in need of decoding time and we look forward to fourteen days of relaxing increasingly in your luxurious shade-loving hosta plants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lt Col Samantha Carter said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the Manager of Aniston's HOTEL, 344 Angelina Street, Nice, France, California.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear, Sir, Madam or portable fan, &lt;br /&gt;I would like to reserve a wii remote at your undulating hotel for two weeks in August.  We will need a room for myself, my wife, and our two Prom goers.  We would like a double itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini with a view of the garden destroying gophers.  I understand that your rate includes a continental breakfast consisting of an undulating French roll and fresh pineapple preserves and a pot of hot grenadine.  I would also like to reserve a side trip to the backseat of Jackie's car and to the Pitt Canyon.  My wife and I will go to the canyon alone.  We will leave our smallest Hoff's hair with his economically depressed brother at the swimming pool.  We were at your hotel last year and had a simply frazzled time and we look forward to fourteen days of relaxing friviolously in your luxurious angelic nectar that is Dr Pepper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;FluffyChicky said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the Manager of Finklestein's HOTEL, 344 Melba Peachbottom Street, The Pit of Despair, California.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear, Sir, Madam or wet t-shirt contest for the “Over 70” crowd, &lt;br /&gt;I would like to reserve a cheese grater at your hot-headed hotel for two weeks in August.  We will need a room for myself, my wife, and our two electric griddles.  We would like a double Aunt Orva’s false teeth with a view of the loser celebrities who aren’t cool enough to have their own figure at Madame Tussaud’s.  I understand that your rate includes a continental breakfast consisting of a full-figured French roll and 3 week old Chinese leftovers wedged into the back corner of the refrigerator preserves and a pot of hot pimple secretions.  I would also like to reserve a side trip to under the living room couch with the killer dust bunnies and to the Stanky Canyon.  My wife and I will go to the canyon alone.  We will leave our smallest Wankle rotary engine with his underwhelming brother at the swimming pool.  We were at your hotel last year and had a simply slap-happy time and we look forward to fourteen days of relaxing snottily in your luxurious swimming pool full of rabid naked mole rats.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-4241976566936874722?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/4241976566936874722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=4241976566936874722&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4241976566936874722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/4241976566936874722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/05/letter-to-resort-hotel.html' title='A Letter to a Resort Hotel'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-5082137346747986516</id><published>2010-04-30T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T06:40:14.486-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Newspaper Ads</title><content type='html'>FOR SALE: 1957 Sedan.  This (adjective) car is in a/an (adjective) condition.  It was formerly owned by a/an (adjective) school teacher who always drove it (adverb).  There is a/an (adjective) (noun) in the back seat and a chrome (noun) on the hood.  It has a/an (adjective) paint job, (adjective) tires, and the back opens out into a/an (adjective) (noun).  Will consider taking slightly used (noun) in trade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOST: In the vicinity of (geographical location), a/an (adjective) French poodle with (adjective) hair and a/an (adjective) tail.  It answers to the name of (name of person in room) and when last seen was carrying a/an (noun) in its mouth.  A/An (adjective) reward is offered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOR SALE: 1957 Sedan.  This pummeled with pillows car is in a wrinkly and crusty condition.  It was formerly owned by a pejorative school teacher who always drove it jackrabbit-catchingly.  There is an orange peel-covered professional armpit sniffer in the back seat and a chrome ugly plant on the hood.  It has a flapping in the breeze paint job, filled with sugary goodness tires, and the back opens out into an acidic Grandma's knickers.  Will consider taking slightly used eyelash mite in trade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOST: In the vicinity of Rentown, USA, a numerological French poodle with blistered and oozing hair and an iris-sniffing tail.  It answers to the name of Lola the Showgirl and when last seen was carrying a spoon bent with mind power in its mouth.  A fey reward is offered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOR SALE: 1957 Sedan.  This blatant car is in a grandmother approved condition.  It was formerly owned by a fire-breathing school teacher who always drove it terrifyingly.  There is a buttock clenching sequinned jacket in the back seat and a chrome glass eye on the hood.  It has a fist shaking paint job, dizzying tires, and the back opens out into a klepto-inspired wooden shoe.  Will consider taking slightly used tomahawk in trade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOST: In the vicinity of Cawker City, Kansas, Home to the World's largest ball of twine, a fedora wearing French poodle with samba dancing through the night hair and a ewe-like tail.  It answers to the name of Ernesto the bald troubador and when last seen was carrying a dancing bear in its mouth.  A not as smart as a first grader reward is offered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Sorry about that, Heff!  That's what happens when Millie leaves her house... she gets confused)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-5082137346747986516?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/5082137346747986516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=5082137346747986516&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5082137346747986516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5082137346747986516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/04/newspaper-ads.html' title='Newspaper Ads'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-3528212753470881373</id><published>2010-04-23T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T12:32:02.190-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Beauty Advice</title><content type='html'>If your skin is (adjective) or (adjective), you can cure this condition with the following care.  Every morning, before washing your (noun), massage it gently with a/an (noun) that has been soaked overnight in a/an (container) full of warm (liquid).  Then mix together some (a food) and some (a food) until the mixture becomes (adjective).  Pat this onto your (adjective) complexion for five minutes.  Then remove, using a/an (noun), and wash your face with (adjective) water.  Do not omit this (adjective) step or your skin will become (adjective).  Do this (adverb) every day and you will soon be as (adjective) as (name of person in room).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your skin is meteoric or pain-inducing, you can cure this condition with the following care.  Every morning, before washing your woolly mammoth, massage it gently with a synchronized swimmer that has been soaked overnight in a vat full of warm SOY SAUCE!.  Then mix together some armadillo steak and some strawberry shortcake until the mixture becomes classically original.  Pat this onto your brilliant complexion for five minutes.  Then remove, using a rickshaw driver, and wash your face with smashing water.  Do not omit this mind-boggling step or your skin will become effervescent.  Do this shockingly every day and you will soon be as syncopated as Mary Poppins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your skin is frenetic or drooling, you can cure this condition with the following care.  Every morning, before washing your armpit drip, massage it gently with a tossed cookie that has been soaked overnight in a tool box full of warm smear juice.  Then mix together some strained pears and some fish paste until the mixture becomes butt-clenchingly unpleasant.  Pat this onto your floppy disk tossing complexion for five minutes.  Then remove, using an angry earwig, and wash your face with perpendicular water.  Do not omit this contrary step or your skin will become blue.  Do this MRSA-thwartingly every day and you will soon be as monkey-seeking as Puff the Impaled Harpoonist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-3528212753470881373?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/3528212753470881373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=3528212753470881373&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3528212753470881373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3528212753470881373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/04/beauty-advice.html' title='Beauty Advice'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-7930194360305159404</id><published>2010-04-09T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T12:32:19.659-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Description of the Lovely Group that I am in</title><content type='html'>We are having a perfectly (adjective) time this evening in the (adjective) home of (name of person in room).  The rooms are decorated (adverb) with many stylish (plural noun) that must have cost at least (number) dollars.  The guests are all (adjective) conversationalists and are all (adverb) dressed.  (Name of person in room) has been entertaining us by telling about the time he showed his (adjective) (noun) to (name of person in room), who mistook it for an early American (noun).  The refreshments are (adjective) and the idea of serving (a liquid) on the rocks showed (adjective) imagination.  Visiting here is always a/an (adjective) experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are having a perfectly stupendous time this evening in the flexible home of Larry.  The rooms are decorated painstakingly with many stylish sideburns that must have cost at least 27 dollars.  The guests are all inspired-by-circus-freaks conversationalists and are all insultingly dressed.  Curly has been entertaining us by telling about the time he showed his rainbow wig-wearing armpit to Mo, who mistook it for an early American carrot cake.  The refreshments are muscle bound and the idea of serving motor oil on the rocks showed more sequined than Elvis' jumpsuit imagination.  Visiting here is always an aromatic experience.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are having a perfectly copied and posted all over town time this evening in the skipped over and crying in Primary home of Headlouse Hedwig.  The rooms are decorated sippy cup-slurpingly with many stylish monkeys wearing dresses that must have cost at least 1328 dollars.  The guests are all glowing red conversationalists and are all strangely dressed.  Oliver Clothesoff has been entertaining us by telling about the time he showed his smacked and embarrassed new Wii game to Angel O'Themorning, who mistook it for an early American jangly and annoying bracelet.  The refreshments are twitching and the idea of serving rat drip on the rocks showed incoherently mumbling imagination.  Visiting here is always a saucy experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-7930194360305159404?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/7930194360305159404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=7930194360305159404&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7930194360305159404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/7930194360305159404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/04/description-of-lovely-group-that-i-am.html' title='Description of the Lovely Group that I am in'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-2477092865168506446</id><published>2010-04-06T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T09:01:06.877-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lt Col Samantha Carter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Dialogue Between Tourist and Souvenir Salesperson</title><content type='html'>Played by (boy in room) and (girl in room).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Hello there, Miss.  I am looking for some postal (plural noun) that I can mail back to my (plural noun) in (a town).&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: We have some very (adjective) cards.  Would you like some with pictures of our local (noun) or with pictures of (plural noun) growing along the beach?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I would like five of those that show my (adjective) hotel.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Alright.  Now how about a bumper sticker that says "(a city), America's greatest little (vegetable)"?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: No thanks.  But I would like to see one of those (color) hats with the (noun) on top.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Okay.  Here.  My, you look just like a (noun).&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Good.  I'll take it.  Now if you can sell me some fourteen-cent (plural noun), I'll let all my friends back home know what a/an (adjective) time I am having.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Played by Madmartigan and Sorsha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Hello there, Miss.  I am looking for some postal apes hyped up on candy and fire water that I can mail back to my grandma trampolines in Burnt Corn, Alabama.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: We have some very misspelled cards.  Would you like some with pictures of our local whale tail tattoo or with pictures of Percocet tablets growing along the beach?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I would like five of those that show my holier-than-thou hotel.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Alright.  Now how about a bumper sticker that says "Madrid, America's greatest little radish"?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: No thanks.  But I would like to see one of those mint green hats with the disproportionately large noggin on top.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Okay.  Here.  My, you look just like fingernail ooze.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Good.  I'll take it.  Now if you can sell me some fourteen-cent naughty distractions, I'll let all my friends back home know what an on guard time I am having.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lt Col Samantha Carter said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Played by Tiger Woods and Kate Gosselin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Hello there, Miss.  I am looking for some postal seashells that I can mail back to my tourists in Hope, Arkansas.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: We have some very appetizing cards.  Would you like some with pictures of our local cutting board or with pictures of pretzels growing along the beach?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I would like five of those that show my chocolate-coated hotel.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Alright.  Now how about a bumper sticker that says "Munchkin City, America's greatest little asparagus"?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: No thanks.  But I would like to see one of those vermilion hats with the ingrown toenail on top.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Okay.  Here.  My, you look just like a wet bandaid.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Good.  I'll take it.  Now if you can sell me some fourteen-cent earplugs, I'll let all my friends back home know what a lice-infested time I am having.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Played by Pedro and Maxine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Hello there, Miss.  I am looking for some postal vitamins that I can mail back to my gardening tools in Ephrata.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: We have some very piercing cards.  Would you like some with pictures of our local eye or with pictures of fuel injectors growing along the beach?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I would like five of those that show my enlightening hotel.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Alright.  Now how about a bumper sticker that says "Dodge, America's greatest little Swiss chard"?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: No thanks.  But I would like to see one of those cornflower blue hats with the pinky finger on top.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Okay.  Here.  My, you look just like navel lint. &lt;br /&gt;BOY: Good.  I'll take it.  Now if you can sell me some fourteen-cent popcicle sticks, I'll let all my friends back home know what a larger than life time I am having.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Played by Dr. Jekyll and Madonna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Hello there, Miss.  I am looking for some postal scattered dog toys that I can mail back to my poor dead fishies in Mayberry.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: We have some very life-like cards.  Would you like some with pictures of our local child of mine or with pictures of freedoms in peril growing along the beach?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: I would like five of those that show my blustery hotel.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Alright.  Now how about a bumper sticker that says "San Francisco, America's greatest little kohlrabi"?&lt;br /&gt;BOY: No thanks.  But I would like to see one of those orange hats with the ringing telephone on top.&lt;br /&gt;GIRL: Okay.  Here.  My, you look just like a Wii.&lt;br /&gt;BOY: Good.  I'll take it.  Now if you can sell me some fourteen-cent fantabulous speakers, I'll let all my friends back home know what a disobedient time I am having.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-2477092865168506446?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/2477092865168506446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=2477092865168506446&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2477092865168506446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2477092865168506446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/04/dialogue-between-tourist-and-souvenir.html' title='Dialogue Between Tourist and Souvenir Salesperson'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6576474103741035218</id><published>2010-04-02T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T00:00:08.654-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lt Col Samantha Carter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Easter</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Happy Easter&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter vacations usually fall around Easter time.  The schools are closed and all the (plural noun) get (number) weeks off.  The (adjective) teachers also get a vacation.  There are a lot of things to do on Easter vacation.  Some kids loaf around and watch the (noun).  Others get outside and play (a game), while more ambitious students spend their time studying their (adjective) books so they will grow up to become (plural noun).  Little kids also color (adjective) eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how you color an egg: First mix a package of (adjective) dye in a bowl full of (liquid).  Then dip the (noun) in the bowl and rinse it off with (liquid).  Then after it dries, you can paint on it with a brush.  Then you show it to your friends who will say, "Boy, what a/an (adjective) egg!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter vacations usually fall around Easter time.  The schools are closed and all the extremely naughty babies get 1137 weeks off.  The slapped silly teachers also get a vacation.  There are a lot of things to do on Easter vacation.  Some kids loaf around and watch the too-curious 5-year-old.  Others get outside and play Two Minutes in the Closet, while more ambitious students spend their time studying their red and crinkly books so they will grow up to become Santa pants.  Little kids also color lard-frosted eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how you color an egg: First mix a package of repulsed by pregnant women dye in a bowl full of cow slobber.  Then dip the Bismark donut in the bowl and rinse it off with rain water.  Then after it dries, you can paint on it with a brush.  Then you show it to your friends who will say, "Boy, what a cricket-noise-making egg!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter vacations usually fall around Easter time.  The schools are closed and all the unfinished scrapbooks get 7 weeks off.  The intensely annoying teachers also get a vacation.  There are a lot of things to do on Easter vacation.  Some kids loaf around and watch the intense field fire.  Others get outside and play Kick-the-can, while more ambitious students spend their time studying their begging-to-eat-candy books so they will grow up to become 6 loads of bedding.  Little kids also color broken-hearted eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how you color an egg: First mix a package of luckiest dye in a bowl full of non-coagulated blood.  Then dip the new computer in the bowl and rinse it off with turpentine.  Then after it dries, you can paint on it with a brush.  Then you show it to your friends who will say, "Boy, what a contemporary egg!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lt. Col. Samantha Carter said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter vacations usually fall around Easter time.  The schools are closed and all the bottles of nasal spray get 815 weeks off.  The overworked teachers also get a vacation.  There are a lot of things to do on Easter vacation.  Some kids loaf around and watch the skeleton key.  Others get outside and play Uno, while more ambitious students spend their time studying their underappreciated books so they will grow up to become M&amp;Ms.  Little kids also color grumpy eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how you color an egg: First mix a package of covered-in-snot dye in a bowl full of Dr. Pepper.  Then dip the whoopie cushion in the bowl and rinse it off with ham glaze.  Then after it dries, you can paint on it with a brush.  Then you show it to your friends who will say, "Boy, what a barf-inducing egg!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter vacations usually fall around Easter time.  The schools are closed and all the donkeys get 13 weeks off.  The pimply-faced teachers also get a vacation.  There are a lot of things to do on Easter vacation.  Some kids loaf around and watch the bowling shirt.  Others get outside and play Spin the Bottle, while more ambitious students spend their time studying their anatomically correct books so they will grow up to become neckties.  Little kids also color bovine-inspired eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how you color an egg: First mix a package of polka dotted dye in a bowl full of chocolate milk.  Then dip the unwanted zucchini in the bowl and rinse it off with blood plasma.  Then after it dries, you can paint on it with a brush.  Then you show it to your friends who will say, "Boy, what a makes-you-want-to-samba egg!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6576474103741035218?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6576474103741035218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6576474103741035218&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6576474103741035218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6576474103741035218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/04/easter.html' title='Easter'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-9044699552811483321</id><published>2010-03-26T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T09:33:42.722-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lt Col Samantha Carter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Advice to Prospective Parents</title><content type='html'>Congratulations to all of you (adjective) mothers and (adjective) fathers.  You are about to give birth to a/an (noun).  Remember, a happy child comes from a happy (noun).  Undoubtedly, the (noun) will cause many changes in your life.  You'll have to get up at four a.m. to give the little (noun) its bottle of (adjective) milk.  Later, when he's (number) years old, he'll learn to walk and you'll hear the patter of little (plural noun) around the house.  And in no time he'll be talking (adverb) and calling you his "(noun)" and "(noun)."  It's no wonder they are called little bundles of (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations to all of you pill-dependent mothers and stupid health care reform bill-passing fathers.  You are about to give birth to an incredible stench.  Remember, a happy child comes from a happy elasticity.  Undoubtedly, the toe mark on the wall will cause many changes in your life.  You'll have to get up at four a.m. to give the little cranky scorpion its bottle of unstable milk.  Later, when he's 23 years old, he'll learn to walk and you'll hear the patter of little angry old men around the house.  And in no time he'll be talking innuendo-ingly and calling you his "minced fish" and "Costco card with an ugly picture."  It's no wonder they are called little bundles of tooth whitening kit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations to all of you velociraptor-like mothers and herculean fathers.  You are about to give birth to a chimp.  Remember, a happy child comes from a happy chump.  Undoubtedly, the champ will cause many changes in your life.  You'll have to get up at four a.m. to give the little ape its bottle of swaggering milk.  Later, when he's 27 years old, he'll learn to walk and you'll hear the patter of little haikus around the house.  And in no time he'll be talking agonizingly and calling you his "grape" and "cape."  It's no wonder they are called little bundles of tape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lt. Col. Samantha Carter said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations to all of you destitute mothers and devoid of soul fathers.  You are about to give birth to a wedding ring.  Remember, a happy child comes from a happy speed bump.  Undoubtedly, the Cadbury Mini Egg will cause many changes in your life.  You'll have to get up at four a.m. to give the little ace bandage its bottle of asinine milk.  Later, when he's 815 years old, he'll learn to walk and you'll hear the patter of little saltines around the house.  And in no time he'll be talking redundantly and calling you his "pedometer" and "dull pencil."  It's no wonder they are called little bundles of nanny-cam.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-9044699552811483321?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/9044699552811483321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=9044699552811483321&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/9044699552811483321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/9044699552811483321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/03/advice-to-prospective-parents.html' title='Advice to Prospective Parents'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-2889257706977906136</id><published>2010-03-19T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T00:00:01.446-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Quick Quiz</title><content type='html'>Who am I?  I am a/an (adjective) American.  I was born (number) years ago in (geographical location).  When my father first saw me he said, "(Exclamation)!"  I am (number) feet tall, have (adjective) brown eyes, and a/an (adjective) complexion.  My hobby is collecting (plural noun).  I always speak (adverb) and I have made several (adjective) motion pictures.  I am married to (person's name), the well known Hollywood (noun).  I have given away thousands of (plural noun) to charity.  My most prominent physical characteristics are my (adjective) nose and my large (noun).  Who am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANSWER: I am (name of person in room).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I?  I am a happy American.  I was born 7 years ago in Munchkinland.  When my father first saw me he said, "Ding Dong the witch is dead!"  I am 2 feet tall, have sleepy brown eyes, and a dopey complexion.  My hobby is collecting flying monkeys.  I always speak menacingly and I have made several grumpy motion pictures.  I am married to Snow White, the well known Hollywood rabbit.  I have given away thousands of evil stepmothers to charity.  My most prominent physical characteristics are my bashful nose and my large gooseberry pie.  Who am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANSWER: I am Bertrand the Magnificent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I?  I am a discombobulated American.  I was born 1968 years ago in Uintah Mountains.  When my father first saw me he said, "What the cabbage!"  I am 43 feet tall, have super smelly brown eyes, and a higher than a kite complexion.  My hobby is collecting diapers.  I always speak forlornly and I have made several stingy remote control wielding motion pictures.  I am married to Oprah, the well known Hollywood stylin' Corvette.  I have given away thousands of investigations to charity.  My most prominent physical characteristics are my painfully stubbed nose and my large rosary.  Who am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANSWER: I am Goob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I?  I am a cop-mocking American.  I was born 2378 years ago in Angry Beaver, Pennsylvania.  When my father first saw me he said, "SHUT UP JOHNNY!"  I am 872 feet tall, have itchy and snotty brown eyes, and a wrinkled beyond recognition complexion.  My hobby is collecting major crankbutts.  I always speak ignorantly and I have made several sot-inspiring motion pictures.  I am married to Ack-Ack, the well known Hollywood shorts in a blender.  I have given away thousands of happy onstage hippies to charity.  My most prominent physical characteristics are my "oozing nice like a melted malted" nose and my large flatliner.  Who am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANSWER: I am Clumsy Clara.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-2889257706977906136?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/2889257706977906136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=2889257706977906136&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2889257706977906136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2889257706977906136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/03/quick-quiz.html' title='Quick Quiz'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-5906900427662670624</id><published>2010-03-12T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T00:00:09.431-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lt Col Samantha Carter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Ireland</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Happy Saint Patrick's Day next week&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ireland is a beautiful, green island lying directly west of (place).  In 250 B.C., Ireland was inhabited by short, dark (plural noun) who were later called "Picts."  They intermarried with (adjective) Vikings and with Celts who were (plural noun) from Northern Europe.  In 1846, a blight ruined the (noun) crop in Ireland and over a million Irishmen migrated to the United States.  Many of their descendants have become very important American (plural noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Irish are noted for their poetry and songs.  Some of these Irish songs are: "When Irish (plural noun) are Smiling," "Did Your (noun) Come From Ireland?" and "McNamara's (noun)."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thousands of American tourists go to Ireland every year to visit its capital, (place), and buy Irish linen (plural noun), and see the beautiful (plural noun) and lakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lt. Col. Samantha Carter said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ireland is a beautiful, green island lying directly west of Shangra-La.  In 250 B.C., Ireland was inhabited by short, dark cans of hairspray who were later called "Picts."  They intermarried with ubiquitous Vikings and with Celts who were boogers from Northern Europe.  In 1846, a blight ruined the Self-Righteous and Holier-than-thou relatives crop in Ireland and over a million Irishmen migrated to the United States.  Many of their descendants have become very important American wads of chewed gum found underneath your school desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Irish are noted for their poetry and songs.  Some of these Irish songs are: "When Irish Birthday Balloons are Smiling," "Did Your Sandra Bullock Come From Ireland?" and "McNamara's Racing Horse."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thousands of American tourists go to Ireland every year to visit its capital, Munchkin City, and buy Irish linen pennies, and see the beautiful cell phones and lakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ireland is a beautiful, green island lying directly west of  Dracula's ancestral home.  In 250 B.C., Ireland was inhabited by short, dark identical triplets whose parents tell them apart by painting their toenails different colors, who were later called "Picts."  They intermarried with environmentally friendly Vikings and with Celts who were illegally downloaded Weird Al songs from Northern Europe.  In 1846, a blight ruined the out of control Yugo crop in Ireland and over a million Irishmen migrated to the United States.  Many of their descendants have become very important American Cannibal Chimpanzees from the Planet Earth DVDs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Irish are noted for their poetry and songs.  Some of these Irish songs are: "When Irish Idiots Who Don't Know How to Use Their Turn Signals are Smiling," "Did Your Suburb Come From Ireland?" and "McNamara's Washable Marker."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thousands of American tourists go to Ireland every year to visit its capital, the women's restroom in the Space Needle, and buy Irish linen mimes whose black and white striped shirts accidentally got washed with a red sock, and see the beautiful chips that have been double dipped, and lakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ireland is a beautiful, green island lying directly west of Poison Spider, Wyoming.  In 250 B.C., Ireland was inhabited by short, dark purposeful trippers who were later called "Picts."  They intermarried with caught in the gears of a combine Vikings and with Celts who were drug mules from Northern Europe.  In 1846, a blight ruined the Tourette's syndrome crop in Ireland and over a million Irishmen migrated to the United States.  Many of their descendants have become very important American people who shave all their hair off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Irish are noted for their poetry and songs.  Some of these Irish songs are: "When Irish Rejected and Disgruntled Belly-button-whistle Dancers are Smiling," "Did Your Cottage Cheese Glob Come From Ireland?" and "McNamara's Cat in Heat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thousands of American tourists go to Ireland every year to visit its capital, Sandusky, Ohio, and buy Irish linen cough spittle victims, and see the beautiful dog leg prostheses and lakes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-5906900427662670624?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/5906900427662670624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=5906900427662670624&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5906900427662670624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5906900427662670624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/03/ireland.html' title='Ireland'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-3954552212921227830</id><published>2010-03-05T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T00:00:00.206-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><title type='text'>Advertisement for a Cruise Ship</title><content type='html'>Come aboard the famous cruise ship, "Love (noun)."  Your vacation will stretch from the land of the midnight (noun) to the sunny (plural noun) of the Mediterranean.  You and your (plural noun) will stay in a luxurious private (a receptacle).  You will dine in (adjective) surroundings in our magnificent banquet hall on the (noun) deck.  Every night there will be entertainment by (person's name) and his/her musical (plural noun).  The (adjective) cruise will visit the island port of (a city) and then go along the coast of (a place).  We will drop (noun) in (a city) and spend all day (verb ending in ING).  You can live (adverb) and all for only 120 (plural noun) a day, plus tax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come aboard the famous cruise ship, "Love Mechanical Masterpiece."  Your vacation will stretch from the land of the midnight pepperoni pizza to the sunny dog poops of the Mediterranean.  You and your Canadian geese will stay in a luxurious private Kerr quart jar.  You will dine in freshly shaven surroundings in our magnificent banquet hall on the Wii Fit Console deck.  Every night there will be entertainment by Kevin Bacon and his musical silly cones.  The lung hucking cruise will visit the island port of Santaquin and then go along the coast of Bulgaria.  We will drop retro kitchen in Orlando and spend all day dancing.  You can live scrumptiously and all for only 120 Spaghettios a day, plus tax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come aboard the famous cruise ship, "Love iTunes card spent on nothing but Gladys Knight &amp; The Pips."  Your vacation will stretch from the land of the midnight tossed dwarf to the sunny lifestyle-enhancing underwear of the Mediterranean.  You and your bran flakes will stay in a luxurious private measuring cup.  You will dine in sugared up and slap-happy surroundings in our magnificent banquet hall on the errant glass eyeball deck.  Every night there will be entertainment by Karen Carpenter and her musical dried refrigerator drips.  The chicken-resembling cruise will visit the island port of Lisbon and then go along the coast of Rentown, USA.  We will drop male pattern baldness in Suva and spend all day expostulating.  You can live fish-eye-givingly and all for only 120 cookie monsters a day, plus tax.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-3954552212921227830?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/3954552212921227830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=3954552212921227830&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3954552212921227830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3954552212921227830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/03/advertisement-for-cruise-ship.html' title='Advertisement for a Cruise Ship'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-3586258787931927063</id><published>2010-02-25T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T20:38:22.507-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lt Col Samantha Carter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><title type='text'>Letter to a Friend Back Home</title><content type='html'>Dear (name of person in room),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here we are at the (adjective) Seaside Hotel in (a place).  The weather is (adjective) and the temperature is (number) degrees.  Our hotel room looks out onto a garden filled with (a food) trees and tropical (plural noun).  The natives are all (adjective) and spend their time (verb ending in ING) and riding their (plural noun) through the streets.  Most of them only speak (a language), but I can communicate with them by making signs with my (part of body, plural).  The local food is really (adjective).  Mostly they eat (adjective) burritos and refried (a food, plural).  Our hotel only costs a hundred (silly word, plural) a day.  We are going to spend the week (verb ending in ING) and then come home.  Wish you were here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Hortense,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here we are at the blueberry-obsessed Seaside Hotel in Shrimpsburgh.  The weather is swarming with angry bees and the temperature is 23871 degrees.  Our hotel room looks out onto a garden filled with ribs trees and tropical duck butts.  The natives are all donkey-flavored and spend their time snorting nasal spray and riding their fat guys in little coats through the streets.  Most of them only speak Cantonese, but I can communicate with them by making signs with my nose pores.  The local food is really ruffly and girly.  Mostly they eat picked over and discarded burritos and refried waffle cones.  Our hotel only costs a hundred ah-cha-cha-chas a day.  We are going to spend the week gluing cotton balls to construction paper and then come home.  Wish you were here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sean Hannity,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here we are at the kicking hot Seaside Hotel in the plain states.  The weather is succulent and sour and the temperature is 5309 degrees.  Our hotel room looks out onto a garden filled with homemade creamy cheesy potato soup trees and tropical Olympic athletes.  The natives are all twisted in a cool way and spend their time ballroom dancing and riding their success stories through the streets.  Most of them only speak Slovak, but I can communicate with them by making signs with my orifices of snot.  The local food is really quick.  Mostly they eat arduous burritos and refried homemade dinner rolls of deliciousness.  Our hotel only costs a hundred blegsquesters a day.  We are going to spend the week high jumping and then come home.  Wish you were here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lt. Col. Samantha Carter said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear John "I'm a total D-Bag" Mayer,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here we are at the fed-up Seaside Hotel in The Olympic Village.  The weather is delectable and the temperature is 815 degrees.  Our hotel room looks out onto a garden filled with Bubba Gump Shrimp trees and tropical acne scars.  The natives are all misunderstood and spend their time break-dancing and riding their overdue bills through the streets.  Most of them only speak Pig Latin, but I can communicate with them by making signs with my nostrils.  The local food is really smarmy.  Mostly they eat nasty-tasting burritos and refried Frosties from Wendy's.  Our hotel only costs a hundred flibbertygibbits a day.  We are going to spend the week deep sea fishing and then come home.  Wish you were here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-3586258787931927063?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/3586258787931927063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=3586258787931927063&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3586258787931927063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/3586258787931927063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/02/letter-to-friend-back-home.html' title='Letter to a Friend Back Home'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-2644950116632143175</id><published>2010-02-19T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T00:00:08.905-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FluffyChicky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lt Col Samantha Carter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Oscar Acceptance Speech</title><content type='html'>Thank you, ladies and (plural noun).  I'm so nervous.  My (noun) is beating a/an (noun) a minute.  I didn't prepare a/an (noun).  I never expected to win this (adjective) Oscar.  I have so many people to (verb).  First and foremost, my (adjective) co-star - (person in room) - who was always in my dressing (noun), held my (part of body) when I was in trouble, and never failed to compliment me or give me a/an (adjective) pat on my (noun) when I did well.  I also want to thank my (adjective) director, my (adjective) producer, and of course, the (adjective) writer of the screenplay.  Most of all, I want to thank you, my (adjective) fans, and all the members of the Motion Picture (noun) who were responsible for my (verb ending in ING) this (adjective) award.  Bless your (plural noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, ladies and forceps.  I'm so nervous.  My idiot stalker with no life and a severe butt acne problem is beating a gunmetal nail polish a minute.  I didn't prepare a Hip Hop Abs DVD.  I never expected to win this spanked Oscar.  I have so many people to whistle at.  First and foremost, my perturbed by old women co-star - Uncle Flagellum - who was always in my dressing cockroach bent on revenge, held my tooth when I was in trouble, and never failed to compliment me or give me a helium-filled pat on my yummy liplock when I did well.  I also want to thank my stuffed with pastries and drunk with power director, my eerily glowing producer, and of course, the dip-headed writer of the screenplay.  Most of all, I want to thank you, my indiscriminately shooting at wild hogs fans, and all the members of the Motion Picture Abnormal Protrusion who were responsible for my greasing this purple award.  Bless your dirty camera straps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, ladies and monkey lips.  I'm so nervous.  My piggy bank is beating a flamboyant dancer a minute.  I didn't prepare a hamster wheel.  I never expected to win this red Oscar.  I have so many people to pirouette.  First and foremost, my yellow co-star - Hello Kitty - who was always in my dressing unicycle, held my navel when I was in trouble, and never failed to compliment me or give me a blue pat on my mime asked to perform at a school for the blind when I did well.  I also want to thank my loud director, my electrifying producer, and of course, the pain induced writer of the screenplay.  Most of all, I want to thank you, my wheezy fans, and all the members of the Motion Picture Construction Zone who were responsible for my shimmying this booby trapped award.  Bless your rainbow suspenders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, ladies and long traffic lights.  I'm so nervous.  My Wisconsin cheese is beating a white-trash culture a minute.  I didn't prepare a fabulous daughter.  I never expected to win this perty cool Oscar.  I have so many people to fart.  First and foremost, my silly-silly-silly co-star - Goofy - who was always in my dressing Hall's cough drop, held my cuticle when I was in trouble, and never failed to compliment me or give me a puke-tasting pat on my studly snow tire when I did well.  I also want to thank my big brother teasing director, my happy-kid screaming producer, and of course, the hair-pulling writer of the screenplay.  Most of all, I want to thank you, my ugly man ponytail-sporting fans, and all the members of the Motion Picture Ooh La La Disco Dance who were responsible for my snotting this involuntarily planting-eating award.  Bless your stupid cartoons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lt Col Samantha Carter said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, ladies and bunches of bruised bananas.  I'm so nervous.  My carpet stain remover is beating a broken toe a minute.  I didn't prepare a Tupperware container of fuzzy leftovers.  I never expected to win this tired Oscar.  I have so many people to sail through.  First and foremost, my cold co-star - Dolly Parton - who was always in my dressing snow-covered patio table umbrella, held my knee cap when I was in trouble, and never failed to compliment me or give me an unimaginative pat on my grumpy employee when I did well.  I also want to thank my oozing with charm director, my oozing with pus producer, and of course, the enjoyable as nails on a chalkboard writer of the screenplay.  Most of all, I want to thank you, my venomous fans, and all the members of the Motion Picture Empty Bank Account who were responsible for my vacating this headache-inducing award.  Bless your greasy grimey gopher guts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;FluffyChicky said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, ladies and fat and droopy eyelids.  I'm so nervous.  My cheese grater is beating a One-Eyed Willie a minute.  I didn't prepare an overweight Brendan Fraser impersonator.  I never expected to win this slap-happy Oscar.  I have so many people to vomit.  First and foremost, my smelly co-star - Old Man Jenkins’ crazed ex-wife - who was always in my dressing nose nugget, held my boobs in need of some serious lift when I was in trouble, and never failed to compliment me or give me an unfortunate-looking pat on my worn out Kermit the Frog puppet when I did well.  I also want to thank my Beatle-wig-wearing director, my bug-eyed producer, and of course, the oozing writer of the screenplay.  Most of all, I want to thank you, my coma-inducing fans, and all the members of the Motion Picture Unopenable Pickle Jar who were responsible for my sexually harassing this cry-your-eyes-out-ugly award.  Bless your sweaty armpits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-2644950116632143175?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/2644950116632143175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=2644950116632143175&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2644950116632143175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/2644950116632143175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/02/oscar-acceptance-speech.html' title='Oscar Acceptance Speech'/><author><name>Mad Libs Millie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/__NzwUrrEvMg/SIELx_xKVMI/AAAAAAAAABU/AShlv8AuiQU/S220/old+computer+034.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-8613888549400875402</id><published>2010-02-12T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T00:00:02.353-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lt Col Samantha Carter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><title type='text'>My Dream Man</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Happy Valentine's Day on Sunday&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My "Dream Man" should, first of all, be very (adjective) and (adjective).  He should have a physique like (name of personality), a profile like (name of personality), and the intelligence of a/an (animal).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He must be polite and always remember to light my (noun), to tip his (noun), and to take my (noun) when crossing the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He should move (adverb), should have a/an (adjective) voice, and should always dress (adverb).  I would also like him to be a/an (adjective) dancer, and when we're alone, he should whisper (adjective) nothings in my (noun) and hold my (adjective) (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a/an (adjective) man like this is hard to find.  In fact, the only one I can think of is (name of person in room).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My "Dream Man" should, first of all, be very chartreuse with envy and blind in one eye.  He should have a physique like Goat Boy, a profile like one of the Thompson Twins, and the intelligence of a buffalo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He must be polite and always remember to light my errant chin whisker, to tip his Sweetheart Ball dancer, and to take my major skankwad when crossing the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He should move cross-examiningly, should have a fumbling voice, and should always dress suspiciously.  I would also like him to be a dimwitted dancer, and when we're alone, he should whisper "thrilled with his new jello salad recipe" nothings in my angry rash and hold my Mormon Rap-loving toadstool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a freaked out by monkeys man like this is hard to find.  In fact, the only one I can think of is The Human Yawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lt Col Samantha Carter said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My "Dream Man" should, first of all, be very frickin' cold!!! and agitated.  He should have a physique like Jay Leno, a profile like Conan O'Brien, and the intelligence of a giraffe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He must be polite and always remember to light my bag o'glass, to tip his broken fingernail, and to take my outdated cell phone when crossing the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He should move gingerly, should have a french-fried voice, and should always dress forcefully.  I would also like him to be an ample dancer, and when we're alone, he should whisper minimized nothings in my tainted hamburger which incited food poisoning and hold my enveloped, pouty 2 year old child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a fuzzy man like this is hard to find.  In fact, the only one I can think of is David Letterman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-8613888549400875402?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/8613888549400875402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=8613888549400875402&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8613888549400875402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/8613888549400875402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-dream-man.html' title='My Dream Man'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6325969954423718691</id><published>2010-02-05T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T00:00:05.203-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lt Col Samantha Carter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Fortune Cookie</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Chinese New Year begins February 14, 2010... it's the Year of the Tiger.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter what city you visit, there's bound to be a Chinatown, a Chinese restaurant, and, of course, Chinese fortune cookies, which might say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. A romantic (noun) will add interest to your otherwise (adjective) life.&lt;br /&gt;2. You will inherit a large sum of (plural noun) from a dear, departed (noun).&lt;br /&gt;3. You are admired by your fellow (plural noun) for your ability to (verb) under (adjective) pressure.&lt;br /&gt;4. Although thoughts weigh (adverb) on your (part of body), you are never without a sense of (noun).&lt;br /&gt;5. You tackle difficult (plural noun) with (adjective) skill and the confidence of a much older (noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. A romantic extra chunky peanut butter will add interest to your otherwise aromatic life.&lt;br /&gt;2. You will inherit a large sum of ineffective bicycle fenders from a dear, departed gravity defying monkey.  &lt;br /&gt;3. You are admired by your fellow Solid Gold Dancers for your ability to juggle under intense pressure.&lt;br /&gt;4. Although thoughts weigh dodgingly on your thumb knuckle, you are never without a sense of pain free hair removal system.&lt;br /&gt;5. You tackle difficult flaming bowling pins with neon lighted skill and the confidence of a much older local square dance hall.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. A romantic psychotic funeral picketer will add interest to your otherwise about-to-be-slapped life.&lt;br /&gt;2. You will inherit a large sum of flibbertigibbets from a dear, departed toe-curling belch.&lt;br /&gt;3. You are admired by your fellow shrunken heads on sale at a shop in Ho Chi Minh City for your ability to desecrate under hulking and scary pressure.&lt;br /&gt;4. Although thoughts weigh half-heartedly on your blackhead, you are never without a sense of poodle painted green.&lt;br /&gt;5. You tackle difficult Adam Lambert assault victims with dangerously alluring skill and the confidence of a much older Krusty Krab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lt Col Samantha Carter said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. A romantic Mysterious Island will add interest to your otherwise existential life.&lt;br /&gt;2. You will inherit a large sum of The Others from a dear, departed Smoke Monster.&lt;br /&gt;3. You are admired by your fellow tiki torches for your ability to time-travel under fear-inducing pressure.&lt;br /&gt;4. Although thoughts weigh sinisterly on your abs, you are never without a sense of Benjamin Linus, the Lying Liar who Lies about Lies.&lt;br /&gt;5. You tackle difficult fake beards with mind boggling skill and the confidence of a much older polar bear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6325969954423718691?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6325969954423718691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6325969954423718691&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6325969954423718691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6325969954423718691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/02/fortune-cookie.html' title='Fortune Cookie'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-6405727925132155753</id><published>2010-01-29T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T00:00:06.622-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FluffyChicky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>And Now A Word From...</title><content type='html'>It is almost impossible to watch (adjective)-time television without having some (adjective) athlete pitching a/an (noun) for you to buy. They sell you everything from soup to (plural noun). They are spokespersons for sneakers that (verb), as well as (adjective)-smelling deodorants you put under your (part of body, plural). Other products they endorse are designer (plural noun), watches with (adjective) movements, and (adjective) razors, which they guarantee will remove every (noun) from your (part of body). Athletes make more money from (verb ending in ING) products than they can earn from playing (plural noun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is almost impossible to watch cape wearing-time television without having some snot licking athlete pitching a screaming teenage boy for you to buy. They sell you everything from soup to Top Gun flybys. They are spokespersons for sneakers that yodel, as well as half-baked-smelling deodorants you put under your kidneys. Other products they endorse are designer second hand clothes, watches with tattle-telling movements, and ridiculous razors, which they guarantee will remove every exemplary position from your spleen. Athletes make more money from almost shrieking products than they can earn from playing Hawaiian Haystacks.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It is almost impossible to watch diarrhea-resembling-time television without having some headless athlete pitching an ugly pity plant for you to buy. They sell you everything from soup to eyeball jello molds. They are spokespersons for sneakers that screech, as well as smacked silly-smelling deodorants you put under your elbow chub wrinkles. Other products they endorse are designer Kipper stories, watches with lavender with pink stripes movements, and "sniffs when meeting strangers" razors, which they guarantee will remove every bent-over whale tail wearer from your tootsie. Athletes make more money from manhandling products than they can earn from playing Costco birthday cakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is almost impossible to watch gut wrenching-time television without having some luminous athlete pitching a carrot-wielding gardener for you to buy. They sell you everything from soup to crock pots full of award winning chili. They are spokespersons for sneakers that reach, as well as addlepated-smelling deodorants you put under your pinkies. Other products they endorse are designer recently pedicured toenails, watches with groggy movements, and dizzying razors, which they guarantee will remove every eensy weensy spider from your mandible. Athletes make more money from smirking products than they can earn from playing moles that strangely change position on faces.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;FluffyChicky said...&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It is almost impossible to watch hair-raising-time television without having some vomit-inducing athlete pitching a Slap-Happy Sam the Town Drunk for you to buy. They sell you everything from soup to super secret and specially trained attack weasels. They are spokespersons for sneakers that spank, as well as shnockered-smelling deodorants you put under your slightly backed up digestive tract. Other products they endorse are designer boogers, watches with voluptuous movements, and clammy razors, which they guarantee will remove every buffalo shaving contest winner from your surgically enhanced clavicle. Athletes make more money from spitting products than they can earn from playing gnarly thumb knuckles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-6405727925132155753?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/6405727925132155753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=6405727925132155753&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6405727925132155753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/6405727925132155753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/01/and-now-word-from.html' title='And Now A Word From...'/><author><name>Mad Libs Millie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/__NzwUrrEvMg/SIELx_xKVMI/AAAAAAAAABU/AShlv8AuiQU/S220/old+computer+034.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3701103245068267039.post-5000393263224710036</id><published>2010-01-22T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T08:51:40.688-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Klin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lt Col Samantha Carter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Millie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heffalump'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday!</title><content type='html'>Friends, this gathering is a surprise party for (name of girl in room).  We are here to celebrate her (noun).  All of her most (adjective) friends are here, including me, her devoted and faithful (noun).  I must say that she doesn't look a day over (number).  Naturally, we have some presents.  (Boy in room) brought her a beautiful copper (noun) that she can wear on her lovely (noun).  And our hostess got her a dozen (plural noun) that she can hang in her bathroom.  And we had the bakery send up a huge (adjective) (noun) with candles on it.  We all want to wish her a very (adjective) birthday and many happy (plural noun).  Now let's all sing together: "Happy (noun) to you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Millie said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, this gathering is a surprise party for Bubbles.  We are here to celebrate her chicken on a leash.  All of her most dipped in cheese sauce until unrecognizable friends are here, including me, her devoted and faithful stuffed hash browns.  I must say that she doesn't look a day over 631.  Naturally, we have some presents.  The Amazing Mumford brought her a beautiful copper sparkly and dangerous balloon weight holder thingie that she can wear on her lovely Facebook friendship gone totally awry.  And our hostess got her a dozen kitty nuptials that she can hang in her bathroom.  And we had the bakery send up a huge, repeatedly mocked juvenile delinquent with candles on it.  We all want to wish her a very slivered birthday and many happy dreams about Matt Damon being handsy.  Now let's all sing together: "Happy heavily sighing teenager who wants the computer to you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heffalump said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, this gathering is a surprise party for Rainbow Boucle.  We are here to celebrate her pipe cleaner creature.  All of her most grotesque friends are here, including me, her devoted and faithful Captain Crunch.  I must say that she doesn't look a day over 17.  Naturally, we have some presents.  Steve from Blues Clues brought her a beautiful copper peanut throwing squirrel that she can wear on her lovely CD of horrifyingly synthesized music.  And our hostess got her a dozen onion rings that she can hang in her bathroom.  And we had the bakery send up a huge statuesque post apocalyptic war zone with candles on it.  We all want to wish her a very Abba-esque birthday and many happy songs that get stuck in my head.  Now let's all sing together: "Happy leg warmers to you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lt. Col. Samantha Carter said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, this gathering is a surprise party for Dolly Parton.  We are here to celebrate her opened can of whoopa$$.  All of her most sublime friends are here, including me, her devoted and faithful sterno.  I must say that she doesn't look a day over 14.  Naturally, we have some presents.  Conan O'Brien brought her a beautiful copper pen with no ink that she can wear on her lovely facebook junkie.  And our hostess got her a dozen useless antacid tablets that she can hang in her bathroom.  And we had the bakery send up a huge archaic sewing machine with candles on it.  We all want to wish her a very frivolous birthday and many happy headphones.  Now let's all sing together: "Happy box of tax software to you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Klin said...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, this gathering is a surprise party for the girl who wants to marry Flint.  We are here to celebrate her pizza.  All of her most ginormous friends are here, including me, her devoted and faithful sprite.  I must say that she doesn't look a day over 468.  Naturally, we have some presents.  The grumpy teen boy that doesn't like rules brought her a beautiful copper banana that she can wear on her lovely meatball.  And our hostess got her a dozen gummy bears that she can hang in her bathroom.  And we had the bakery send up a huge glutinous salad with candles on it.  We all want to wish her a very stuffed birthday and many happy giant marshmallows.  Now let's all sing together: "Happy spaghetti to you!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3701103245068267039-5000393263224710036?l=madlibsmonday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/feeds/5000393263224710036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3701103245068267039&amp;postID=5000393263224710036&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5000393263224710036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3701103245068267039/posts/default/5000393263224710036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madlibsmonday.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy Birthday!'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01677085436695571495</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zxlXUMW7KHU/TLNxlPRTWCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/-_ndM8pidYo/S220/MIllie+chicken.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
