Lake of sire
Today I went to swim in the communal lake in our village. When I arrived there and examined the bathing pools I noticed that they were covered in a thick film of orange slime and pubic hair. I whipped my pistol from my knickers. 'Pistol' in this sense refers to the industrial strength cleaning products that I keep concealed secretly in a secret concealed compartment of my outfit.
"Guaaaaaaaaaaaurgh! Your days are numbered!" I exclaimed to the slime as it tried to slip out of my deadly line of fire. The slime whined in ginger distress as I attempted to vanquish it with my gun. It was then that I noticed the smell. The smell of roast lamb flavoured chips in distress. The smell of many tissues in the bedroom garbage of a man with only a dog for company. The smell of an old cheese sausage.
It was come. Old caked-on come mixed with pubic hair that I was attempting to read the last rites to in my cleaning fury. I stopped. My heart beat for a moment. I felt empathy. Empathy for all the unborn half-babies that were desperately clinging to the beardy surfaces of the rocks.
"Never fear!" I shouted, "I shall save you!" and I whipped forth my silk lined cotton tissues. Gently, gently I removed the pubic babies from their womb of rock. As they slid onto the silk of the tissues I immediately water-slided them into a waiting glass canister.
To cut a long story short, my empathy soon ran out, and I crushed the babies into a paste. This paste I soon applied to my entire body thinking to emulate Jennifer Lopez. It made my skin as soft as never-born babies, and "hallelujah!" I cried.
My beauty was enhanced as never before. I was crying tears of joy and of conjuctivitis.
In the end I was so beautious that I had to get drunk for free at the local teachers' training institute. They told me off for being so drunk, but I showed them up by becoming 20 times more drunk in the next five minutes, and they shut their blasphemous mouths.
"Guaaaaaaaaaaaurgh! Your days are numbered!" I exclaimed to the slime as it tried to slip out of my deadly line of fire. The slime whined in ginger distress as I attempted to vanquish it with my gun. It was then that I noticed the smell. The smell of roast lamb flavoured chips in distress. The smell of many tissues in the bedroom garbage of a man with only a dog for company. The smell of an old cheese sausage.
It was come. Old caked-on come mixed with pubic hair that I was attempting to read the last rites to in my cleaning fury. I stopped. My heart beat for a moment. I felt empathy. Empathy for all the unborn half-babies that were desperately clinging to the beardy surfaces of the rocks.
"Never fear!" I shouted, "I shall save you!" and I whipped forth my silk lined cotton tissues. Gently, gently I removed the pubic babies from their womb of rock. As they slid onto the silk of the tissues I immediately water-slided them into a waiting glass canister.
To cut a long story short, my empathy soon ran out, and I crushed the babies into a paste. This paste I soon applied to my entire body thinking to emulate Jennifer Lopez. It made my skin as soft as never-born babies, and "hallelujah!" I cried.
My beauty was enhanced as never before. I was crying tears of joy and of conjuctivitis.
In the end I was so beautious that I had to get drunk for free at the local teachers' training institute. They told me off for being so drunk, but I showed them up by becoming 20 times more drunk in the next five minutes, and they shut their blasphemous mouths.
posted by Face at 12:34 AM
1 Comments:
beware! I will save you!!
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