Also, I found a big pot hole on my dream Madison square that was filled with vomit and feces.
This girl and I would wade out a ways, then roll together in when a big wave came in. We kept doing that over and over.
Finally, she noticed that there was no body in the bathtub and the alligator was missing. She was pissed.
We used our spears to kill them, then I though "hmmm... didn't Romans have short swords for close combat?" Poof, I had a short sword, making the carnage easier to propagate.
I was waiving and yelling "Thanks Duke Boys!"
A woman about my age turned around and asked where she could get fish, it being Fat Tuesday and all.
My father (Fred) asked who the hell he was and my mother said “Oh, he (Johnny Rotten) was our waiter at Denny's last week!”
Then Germans behind the counter in the unfinished basement threw red bottles of ketchup (the old, restaurant type that showed no brand) over at us in means of surrender.
My eight grade algebra teacher called on me to be a wolf or something and I didn't like it.
On a stranger note, Allison Hannigan was dancing and singing about how she liked ice cream with a crew of dancing six foot poodles.
Freud would have a field day.
No comments:
Post a Comment