Posts Tagged ‘PWS’
I have a new desk coming that was on clearance at Bon-Ton, but now it’s delayed and won’t get here till the end of the month, which leaves me on a wobbly old glass-top desk in a half-completed office. This is fine, I’ll manage, but I’m looking forward to getting this battlestation fully operational, y’know?
Anyway. I’m back! I’m just going to ignore the fecal stains on the curtains. I’m going to forget about the clump of hair (and part of a scalp) I found in the garbage disposal. I’ll just quietly take the keys back from you apes and say no more about the trio of dead hookers arranged around a poker table in the attic.
Listen, I’m not a jackass. I knew that poking the bear would wake the bear. What I didn’t realize was that the bear would awaken, and then his tummy would growl, and he’d open his mouth and angry mechanized wasps would fly out, and then he’d shoot napalm diarrhea from his fuzzy hindquarters.
You threw your hats into the ring, and I picked names out of a hat. Maybe the same hat. I dunno. It was a Fez. With sequins. It was filled with monkey droppings. Is it yours? (I know it isn’t Doyce’s — his is velvety and dispenses both Skittles and Rogaine.)
Anyway, here are the seven lucky folks!
Been a while since I slapped you in the mouth with a hot tasty recipe, right? Right. Thus, it’s time. Except this recipe ain’t hot in the temperature sense. It’s cool. Chill. But it’s hot like sexy. It’s hot like fishnet stockings. It’s hot like that scene in Ghost with the wheel of clay. Yeah. Nnnggh. Swoon.
