Pt 16: Properly Donked

Tuesday May 31st, 2016
8:32 am (6 1/4 hours of sleep)

Jingling in the pocket of a clown, I sat wondering how I had gotten there. Gary Lamar ate nothing but cigarette butts for a week upon which he decided it to be a poor dietary choice. The tobacco companies would miss his patronage. Where for art the artists? When might they be returning? What has happened to the people of Swintch that they would be nothing more than a bad jolly boy in the prime of his life?

Sweden left nothing up to the imagination when they became the harbinger of the end times. Where might these end times be? You silly bungalo! I just told you! Sweden! Time and again the times of another being is sometimes too much for a Trembalo to manage. These creatures know nothing of managing ones own time. So they make it their business to steal other people's. What life might have been like without them constantly stealing the time from the rest of us.

Some people like to donk up their lives with the intent to never undonk it. These people usually like to try and donk other lives once theirs has been properly donked. These people should be taught proper undonking procedures to help with their lives.

"When will the Vibromanx be ready for production?"
"When we have the patents available."
"What would we need to do to see this thing through?"
"Think happy thoughts for at least two hours daily."
"See, I thought it took more than that these days."
"Naw, man. That's about all their is to it."
"Well I hope production goes well for you."
"As with you, my bartifelinx trantoriss."
"Shalom"
"Shalom"

"Guuuuuuurl, you be seeing things in hypermax 3D again haven't cha?"
"No I have not my good man. No I have not."

Twirling for the glory of the space needle was nothing to scoff at. Killing time was.

"Lame excuses for a third eye wearing manx loving hug feeling fairy mongering twit!" yelled the butcher to his best customer Mrs O'Donovan. Mrs O'Donovan used to be in the anti alien league on Dorovish Prime. So she understood the sacrifices it took to truly be racist against off-worlders.

"Fantasy football has nothing to do with dragons!" yelled little Billy Ponix at his mother. She had only asked whether he wanted steak or slime for dinner and truly didn't know her son. Billy would grow up to be the head coach of the first professional football team to eat the other during the game. This was due to the fact that he had fielded only dragons. Turns out their are no official rules in football against fielding mythical creatures.