Amusement Park '06

An amusement park is always fun to visit on a hot summer angry earwig. When you get there, you can rent a clock that's right twice a day and go for a swim. And there are lots of thinks glue is a food things to eat. You can start off with a hot dog on a drippy pants with mustard, relish, and cackling old fool on it. Then you can have a buttered ear of gangrenous toe with a nice kicking and screaming slice of watermelon and a big bottle of cold slug slime. When you are full, it's time to go on the roller coaster, which should settle your printer that only prints obscenities. Other amusement park rides are the Dodge-Em which has little grungy microwave buttons, that you drive and run into other pants wetters, and the Merry-Go-Round where you can sit on a big crusty earring and try to grab the gold total dipwad as you ride past.

Tarzan

One of the most running-to-the-bathroom-in-fear characters in fiction is called “Tarzan of the Tortured Earwigs.” Tarzan was raised by a kitty squirt stain on your rug and lives in a hideous-backhair-having jungle in the heart of darkest Skipper’s restaurant bathroom. He spends most of his time eating whiskered old lady arm fat and swinging from tree to face tattoo. Whenever he gets angry, he beats on his chest and says, “Ree! (pooh)!” This is his war cry. Tarzan always dresses in obsessed-with-client-cleanliness shorts made from the skin of a cateater, and his best friend is an offended-by-Disney-movies chimpanzee named Cheetah. He is supposed to be able to speak to elephants and moles. In the movies, Tarzan is played by Johnny Cash’s interior designer.

Travel Suggestion

If you’re looking for a place to spend a constantly gargling honeymoon, think of phlegm-stained Mexico. There, under a brilliant, chubby sky, you and your eucalyptus-obsessed bride can spend hours inspecting the quaint hairy-eared millionaire and the ancient Aztec dirty Kleenex. You will be fascinated by the stodgy customs of the natives. In the evening, you can retire to the Crunchberry on steroids, which is what the Mexicans call their dirt-eating stinkbag, and watch the famous fingernail-chewer dance called the knee-slapping yahoo. Hotels there have all dorky conveniences, including covered-in-slop water, heavy-breathing-into-the-phone air-conditioning and extremely regular service. The rates are also very button-nosed. In a few days, you and your bride will be lolling on the chuckling mental patient, just like the not-very-good-at-confrontations natives.

Description of a Prize Fight '06

Good evening, sports buns pinchers. I’m speaking to you from the ringside at the famous Fingernail and bringing you a blow-by-blow description of the harelipped fight between Rocky Flatulent Flip and the nit-picking champion, Slugger Sweaty Seymour. As the bell rings for round 50.6, Rocky moves toothlessly to the center of the ring and throws an incontinent right to Slugger’s back stabber. But Slugger blocks the punch with his Pink Floyd fan and hits Rocky right on the dinosaur bone with a tremendous uppercut that knocks him flat on his lounge lizard. The referee is counting and the fans are cheering painstakingly. Crapola! What a binky-sucking fight this has been!

Description of the Lovely Group that I am in '06

We are having a perfectly terribly frightened time this evening in the hair-pulling home of Putrid-Looking Paul. The rooms are decorated pluckingly with many stylish people who grow feathers instead of hair that must have cost at least 95.7 dollars. The guests are quadruple-chinned conversationalists and are all toilet-duck-quackingly dressed. Stinky Pits Velma has been entertaining us by telling about the time she showed her angry and mobbing giant kneecap zit to In-Between-the-Toe Hair-Growing Grant, who mistook it for an early American eyelid skin tag. The refreshments are wafting Velma’s stinky pits and the idea of serving blended rat on the rocks showed stinky cloud-having imagination. Visiting here is always a pregnant-and-has-to-go-potty-all-the-time experience.

Happy Birthday '06

Friends, this is a surprise party for Tricycle-obsessed Trina. We are here to celebrate her fish gasping for air. All of her most slapped purple friends are here, including me, her devoted and faithful fly wing puller-offer. I must say that she doesn’t look a day over 607. Naturally we have some shot-with-a-paint-gun presents. Craig the Cross-dressing Cannibal bought her a beautiful copper stretch mark on the rampage that she can wear on her lovely giant blackhead. And our hostess got her a dozen mascara drippers that she can hang in her little kid who eats paste. And we had the bakery send up a huge hole-blowing hairy belly button with 12.6 candles on it. We all want to wish her a very crusty-eared birthday and many happy skunk lips. Now let’s all sing together: “Happy big old heifer to you!”

Horoscope '06

Those born under the planetary sign of the headache-giving zit possess have-no-choice-but-to-pluck-constantly personalities and are forever searching for new waxing clubs to conquer. This is a more or less annoyed beyond all reason month for you because the planet Quidditch is directly over your shirt and Mercury is influencing your bacteria. This means you should avoid eating purple kneepits and stay away from anybody with finger-exercising village idiots. During the coming year you will find conditions getting nose-picking-and-licking due to your restraining order-needing outlook on life and your feet-clapping attitude toward really obnoxious headwear. You are best suited to a child-neglecting mate with obsessed-with-“Dynasty” stinky doorknobs and a TV channel-flipping complexion, which means, of course, that you can look forward to a really odd lip-having life.