Pt 20: Civil Duty

Saturday June 4th, 2016
9:30 am (8 hours of sleep)

The bunny brigade squadron #9 was the hippiest and hoppiest of the wartime bunny squads. Sheri Duboui made sure her land holdings never got into her brother's clutches. She knew exactly how to stare off into nothingness like the rest of her gal pals.

Tame shrews were harder to come by than one expected them to be. Shakespeare had brought a revolution to the rodent taming business with a special emphasis on shrews. However, it's died down a bit as of late. Harry Houdini was a master shrew tamer. He would travel the world taming shrews. He came to it naturally but his father disapproved of his taming habits.

Tagglin Feire was a wee man who sat on stumps. He thought it his civil duty and took it very seriously. That is, until he deigned to sit on the Queen's stumps. Royal stumps are not to be touched let alone sat upon. He was thrown into The Tower of London for six days and twelve nights.

Barbara Streisand feels no compassion for the tiny man in apartment eight. She once found him eating with his hands to which there was great screaming.

Tiles are the textile equivalent to a bacon wrapped peach cobbler in some cultures. Bacon wrapped peach cobbler being the premier place of business classes in the upper west side.

Wonder Woman was created by a polygamist. Well, more of a bohemian with a wife and girlfriend having all of them live together. That is actual fact.

Chances are you'll never slay a dragon or punch a manticore so you'll never be quite as cool as Surias Dumph Puncher of All Things Mythical. He once punched a dragon in the mouth so hard it's kidneys ruptured. So... yeah.

Thomas the Tank Engine never saw the apocalypse coming. He did, however, thrive in it's harsh conditions. "Kill or be killed" was Thomas' motto and he followed it to the letter no matter the circumstances. Trains will do that, you know. First sign of trouble and they go feral, taking down anyone they come across.

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.

Pt 4: Space-Jelly

Thursday May 19th, 2016
8:02am (6 1/2 hours of sleep)

"Terrible events are afoot" said the Marquise of Much Prestidigitation. Manxsome foes are the hardest types of foes. Cheesy butter leaves much to be desired. Windows to the soul are much like a watercress sandwich. Tiger balm sounds beautifully explosive. When shattered realms come up for air, so then will my theremin be located and held at bay. The fridge sometimes on very rare occasions will go ahead and force feed you dates in your sleep.

Triglen Fae never knew his parents. Being left on the stoop of the Sha of Jasswua left him with many questions. How great must the feeling of Barry Kramer's left hook be, after the triumphant supplanting of the Duke o' Taffy. How many people does it take to make an eighty foot wondrous cave of wondrous befuddlement? "About two really inquisitive snails".

Put forth upon the rock of time,

Held by pewter magazines,

I finally found what was mine,

Not before I had to drag a bean.

Hopelessly and wonderfully lost I found myself wondering if I would ever once again see the light of day. I had misplaced myself once again and didn't  know which way was up. The Shanderseen had taken all my knowledge of it's realm and bottled it up.

Kimono clad komodo dragons have learned the secrets of space-time in the islands of Sthuewoity. What they're going to do with it is anyone's guess. However, I heard jellyfish come in many poultry shapes. This would make sense as poultry has eaten logs and logs of taffy rolls. Figs knew the answers to the questions to the ponderings of the elite turtle dove whistlers. Once in a while I felt a big claw give me the well placed and much deserved fish of the depths of wheels.

Time can be replaced by jelly. If only you believe in the space-jelly theory. Tim Sanderson thinks the space-jelly theory would leave us all perpetually sticky and sweet. One's disposition of positions has posited itself against the supposition  of depositions. Plague monkeys feel nothing for society and it's selfish norms. Although water buffaloes have great compassion towards the lost, they have absolutely none for a wayward borogove.