HaHAHAHA…HEEHEE..
HAAAHHAAA!
(gasping for air)
HAAAAHAHHAHEEHA!
(wheezing)
HAAAHAAA..(Giggle, snort, repeat endlessly)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“The General Surgeon of the United States has deemed the consumption of kitchenware to be a serious health hazard. It is strongly recommended that all travelers avoid eating local dishes and instead stick with real food. Eating dishes has been proven to cause massive digestive damage and wreak holy hell on the rectum.”
This public service warning has been brought to you because there are many democrats that believe it is okay to eat dishes.
Written by: A turnip farmer
Once upon a time there was a dirt clod separator agoing by the name, Cletus. Now Cletus was what you might call, a turnip sodbuster. Meaning he’d be one of those folk that turns the sod over by using a mule and a plow. Single shank shiny sodbusting machine a straight out of Sears and Roebuck cateelog.
Now Cletus was a definitely not a fancy dandy. There was no automobile, no lectricty, and no telivision.
It might sound strange but turnip sodbusters wor funny clothies. They had to cuz there weren’t much money to be made by selling turnips. Most nips ended up as hog slop, or in Cletus cause, his still. See, turnips made some nice alkehol.
I’m telling this story as Cletus wuz my cousin who worried about nuthin, well, almost nuthin cept talkin to women folk.
Cletus was a bigun, stood about three axes high with black wiry hair strong enough to slick a tick. Sometimes the mule he used to sodbust got cranky and tire so many days old Cletus had to take the leather straps n pull that single shank shiny plow hisself, whistling and going gangbusters.
One day Cletus saw a woman standing on the road next to a automobile spewing black smoke. This worried Cletus as he was alway fideting and sweating when his body was near a female, specially them ones that were not sporting a beard or sipping from a jug while not having any teeth.
This here woman was a looker, weighing in bout ten stone, the heavy kind. The kind where a man could have her help pull a cord of wood, split it, and still have enough spark to plow twenty acres.
Cletus tried to avert his gaze and while the plowing was hard work, he started sweating a pool of stink and his gut felt like a skunk crawled up inside to nest.
A strong whistle came ringing down and plumb slammed Cletus in the head. He had no choice but ta check the source, source being of course, the lady astanding next to the dead automobile.
With a tremble said to the mule, “Yahooo…” Which in mule language means, “Stop.”
Wiping the dirt from his hands Cletus ambled on over to talk to this woman.
“Uh, howdy miss, need any help?” Cletus now was truly sweating up a storm and the skunk in his gut sought higher ground inside his head.
“Yes indeed sir. Seems my car here is not feeling well.”
Now, Cletus could talk mule, he could talk plow, heck he could even talk to squirells, dogs, and wildcats. Women folk without beards and had most of their teeth were a might hard to even evoke a whisper.
Pausing for a spell, Cletus told this fine lady, “I don’t know much bout automobiles. Nothing at all.” And with that he turned and lumbered off.
He lumbered off a mumbling an giggling. Lumbered past his mule and plow. Lumbered past the turnip patch. Lumbered past his shack. Heck, he lumbered so long he go tired and lay down to take a nap.
When Cletus woke up he found himself naked, surrounded by fried possum, fried grizzly grease. He was shocked as he stood up and saw a lake with giant trout jumping up and laughing at him daring him to catch them. Cletus realized he was in heaven an what a wonderful heaven. No turnips, no mules, no plows, no cousins, no women with or without beards.
“Yehaa!” Cletus said as he reached down to pluck a ripe watermelon. Yessir, heaven it was indeed. An not a worry in the world.
“Here, hold my beer and watch this…”
Open your eyes to God instead of embracing the blindfold of the world.
Who is the fictional character?
No. Who is most definitely not the fictional character to relate to the most, and most is not even close to less or even average.
“Who is the fictional character you relate to the most?”
Question: Is who a relative of most? If so, who fucked who? Did who have parents that were distant cousins of most?
Can you see the hypocrisy of human language? Who. Related to. Most.?
If i were alien and studying the vernacular of humans it would cause a massive cerebral rupture indeed.
It. Ah yes, it. It is real. Who is a fucktard as is their cousin, most.
Wake me up when this nightmare is over. You. And you and you and you…
Everything happens for a reason? Mmm… then nothing happens by accident?
Confused. (plus I’m a dick when it comes to this planets embracment of language more primitive than fly farts)
Everything. Thing. Noun. Or is it a verb? Maybe an adjective? Now, is it a proper noun? Thing! “Stop playing with your Thing!”
Every. Adjective indeed in ‘every’ way. Everywhere. Everything. Everybody.
Human speak sucks.
Lets try it my way. A way very pleasing to my self identity.
When actions of movement are started by using the abilities of the being able to process cognitive thoughts of logic and place such thoughts into kinetic motion there is a ponderable question: Is there a reason for such activity?
Answers: Upon further inquiry into the mind process of debate, the answer is ‘yes’, as without the actions of movement being started by using the abilities of the being able to process cognitive thoughts of logic and place such thought into kinetic motion, there then would be no reason.
However, if another being encounters the actions of others set into motion the answer would still remain ‘yes’ though with different titles of applications as they pertain to definitions of chance and absolutes.
In conclusion, humans are a fucked up species trying to come to term with their identities using a barbaric form of communication. Instead of trying to voice/show reason where reason is already in force they should all learn how to hum pure music and attain a higher level of existence.
It’s between, “Row row row your boat..”
and
“When I whip out my big ten inch…”
Are you satisfied now A.I.?
I would eat myself.
After seeing the movie, Jaws, I was moved to swim quickly out of the water when inside my head the movies theme song of, Da…Dum. Da… Dum. Da dum, da dum, dadum, dadum… started playing.
Amazing how seaweed can look and feel strangely like a 40′ great white shark when swimming nekked and drinking beer.
