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lucky_bonewish
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paste!
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please tease toast then roast dee's knees. the ghost from 27 burning people from the 1978 lost sitcom is much bigger than we thought. what do you do when a chandelier is pregnant with all of the apes? there is nowhere to hide. the laundromat is closed for sure, despite signs.
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030417
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sixteen
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what is it with 27?
I always won when we pulled, The Carrolls house and all the kids would beg the older ones to play hide and go seek.
they had a wooden floor and when you ran you slid into walls or stairs or furniture. there were doors slamming over giggles, forbidden rooms, and kool-aid (my mom hated it, so we never had any at our house). Family was as weird as portrayed on tv, with aunts pinching cheeks and grandmothers with signature recipes. Dogs tackling kids and licking faces...my least favorite part...
Never got the wishes, but I was supposed to. They were probably stupid anyway.
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030603
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oldephebe
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i am smiling wryly at this one. paste!
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040309
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white_wave
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it seems i am not the only one digging up these tasty little morsels written by paste so long ago. thanks oldphebe. keep em' comin'!
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040309
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oE
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that's not a problem mam
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040313
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seventeen
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paste! is my thang, bitches! revel in te glory of The One Who Owns Paste!
yes, John is mine.allllllll miiiiiiine.
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040313
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oldephebe
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that was kind of gratuitously self-congratulatory and delusional indicative of some gender informed chemical imbalance not to mention the hydroencephalic ego..and the ameteurish posturing...but i'm only saying that because blazing chariot out of id's cave bearing down on today the methane index for northumberland is an asphyxiating .62...i can scult almost anything out of..the secret service has just confessed to premptively interviewing people in baseball who knew the erstwhile base ball owner and now dubious if not cognitively impaired president..the pres has firmly asserted his having no knowledge of that enterprise nor any other acts, strategies and or philosophical planks that constitute the Cheney er..Bush administrations...or about the night when the erstwhile baseball team owner and scion of two blue blood families was observed hatless in a raincoat opened to reveal his abject nudity and possible derangement prior pharmacological intervention weilding a bottle of 30 year old scotch in one hand and running around the bases..each time he crosse home plate he'd drawl..i did daddy..i scored me a home run..momma didn't think i could do it! heh..he was observed by several parties over the course of 2.7 hours on a rare rainforest like evening in early august..when a succession of games had been rained out..she had a penchant for really, really pungent horseradish..i mean she put it on everything..he sat pining away for those evenings in the woodshed with his father and a burly leather strap..KYW news time 7***look officer, i don't see why you have to impale me with that truncheon, i mean i'm happily subdued and willing to cooperate..this is highly..he waited for the click and then silent assasine, puncturing bone and flesh and cerebral meatus..it would soon be sphht! "(...)"
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040313
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oldephebe
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tiger has been busy in the connubial bed..so he said to the venerable history prof..the so called eminence de gris..grey eminenece and all that..the prof - now a nearly senescent 84 (and who really had the professional and personal gonads of steel tensility to strip him of tenure, position and put him to pasture for and from that point a pretty rapid decline into dementia and eventual incontinence and then ultimately a defiant posture in the garish rictus of rigormortus..and posed elegantly in the old ancestral sepulcre)the gray grave clothed prof was given to long winded tirades on the subject of why he thought freud was wrong..and such.. something to do with freud having been suspected of deflowering his distant cousin 40 years his senior..an old ragged family skien of shame..when i went to extend the old prefunctory hand at some departmental dinner contrived to subtley insinuate and or impress upon the now slightly disconcertingly parkinsonian palsied professorial fixture and such that hey now almost after sixty years of teaching..wow..and hey why not finally get to those animated and give no quarter parchesi games? lay the old professorial bridle to bed..any way when his palsied hand touched mine it was like cold clammy not to mention mildly aploplectic death. really. remember to avoid all graven images and let your tirades have an extra dimension of hostility to them..especially when speaking of the dishonored dead..
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040313
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What?
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tongue still firmly stapled to my cheek
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040314
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