Monday, April 2, 2012


At the famous "Jump Across 100 Starter Salads"

Yes, you can take my hoarder if I can hoarder some fries with that entrée nous. I usually prefer In-N-Out-Of-Africa-Burger -- where you hoarder a Colonial or Post-Colonial w/ a Lite Boer -- but either way, I'll be finishing up with A Clockwork Orange Julius, the refreshing beverage that, just, meters your mindfulness. It's at The Mall, I'm always at the kiosk, I'm all about the flicks, Slick, and I'm going to see that new movie, BEER HORSE, about a roan thoroughbred who runs, like, really fast, to and from the brewery. It's a double feature, though, and the second film is about an Irish-American leg-breaker boxer bum who gets a shot at the champ; it's called SHAMROCKY. Or, I dunno, it's about a guy, Rocky, who's not who he says. That kind of reminds me of the famous explorer, Ponce de Chameleon -- always changing his clothes, changing his mind, changing his vote from "Pro Romney" to "Leaning Romney." Swing voters, man; too promiscuous. The premise being that they Promise The Couscous, i.e., the whole antsy lotta. Let us now recite: Whose weed this is I think I know // His stash is in the village though // He will not see me copping here // To watch his weed fill up with snow. That's either from Frost's poem, "Stopping to Buy Weed on a Snowy Evening" or Dickens' novel, Little Dorritos, about the imprisonment of those who owe a snackchips debt to society. We can drink tequila; we can say, Goodnight, tequila; and we can dream what the agave dreams, a spiny, parched topography that offers a sappy denouement. The sun-rise brings Industry, it always brings Industry, we must complete a round of Industry, whether it be solemn or not. Come along, say your morning pleasantries with me: Good morning, Industry; Nice power-tie, Industry; You've lost a little paunch, Industry; I don't mind compromising my core values, Industry, just as long as I can provide some trans fat for my people; That's all right, Industry, I guess I don't need a level wage, after all. The Story of the Mendicant and the Fancy Woman always goes like this: The Beggar was a persistent bugger, for each time he saw the Lady, he would beg her and bug her.


Geopoulos said...

Lowest common denominator, Dan. Picking on people -- "hoarders" -- who have a common disorder. For shame.

Anonymous said...

duuuuuuuuuuude. okay, this is funny. you're funny! but but but WHO IS THAT GUUY! he's always giving you crap. i liked little dorritos. because i've read that book! now when i think of it i'll think of chips. thanks, duuuuuuuuude! RUHGINA


I'm not sure you should be talking about "lowest" anything, AnchorOpoulos. For one, you're lower to the ground than I am. Thou belly that thou slitherest in the dirt, Jack. But either way, Jagoff, just goes to show how elite you are, to say "common" about something that ain't too common. It is more common, for ex., to stab one's ex-boss in the back, for personal gain. And then you, Shakapopoulos, precipitated Bush 2, singlehandedly. You're the Republican, man!


Hiiiiiiiiiiii, RUHGINA. Good to hear from you. I imagine you're flush in the middle of senioritis. Do you guys have beach week? Do you go to Lake Erie and light the water on fire? Pray tell. Enquiring minds want to know. & all best to yr mom & her ex-DAVE but mostly hope yr well. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------BA

Anonymous said...

we dont go to lake herie dude! we go to punderson or we go to the empty lot with mickeys. don't be so squate! GINUH

the words you make me type aare:

ndGui inkslut (i'm not kidding)


RUHGINA! TYPOS! ARGH! lake herie? like it's a lake over herie? (here + erie.)

also: mickey's malt liquor? are you kidding me? first of all = under age drinking! second of all = that stuff is GROSS.

squate? what is a squate? are you saying i'm square? if so, say square, not squate!

i don't make you say those words! blogger does! i didn't make you type inkslut! ahahahahahahahahaha!

sorry, though. that's a stupid word.


Kirk said...

Prom Romney is the Romney of choice.
Prom Romney canted leftward toward camera, arms around Date Romney, eyes towards Cam Romney.
Clan Romney roaming promwards, Date Romney responds "no entrance" to Prom Romney's exit poll re: entrance of pole.
This is a family blog, people.


Cam Romney plays goalie for the Provo Brighams of the Mormon League -- but because of his Faith in Joseph Smith he ain't familiar with hockey slang -- so when his teammate goes five hole between the pillows in practice -- and says so -- Cam Romney drops the gloves, throws off the cage, and charges. On the way to the fisticuffs, of course, he baptizes three dead Jews. Daddy will pay for the broken nose surgery -- but what to do about The Mission to The Misssion in San Francisco. The Brighams don't play there and Cam Romney will endure many solitudes, all by hisself, cheating in small ways -- coffee, a sip of Listerine (that he swallows) and long, piercing glances with Other Peoples. Romney may become President of the Prom but nobody will know Cam's Sadness, not even the Angel with the Golden Wand.