Here it is, you illiterate sick bastards =========================== CHAPTER 1. I once had eaten the baby, green and rotting, (it) made me sneeze (and) projectile vomiting ensued. Chunks of baby littered the ground, feeding the garden snails, which ravenously chewed on bits and pieces of baby face and specks of sediment. That was when I startedly exclaimed “there be snails!” I quickly grabbed all the ham and threw it in the fire and then Biscassy died. The fire brought him back. And my mules. I rode those over the fish and into the army of snails, while simultaneously juggling stray cats and a mature cactus. The snails weren’t ready to commit, so then I goaded them into a filthy, stinking pile of pure human feces and tried to bring soap to them. It didn’t work because some unicorns ate the feces to impress a large ambiguously, overbearing man with sideburns. The unicorns mutated into hippy vampires with poop foaming mouths and they tried (to) invite the man to talk Spanish. “No habla englais” the man echoed. I was stunned by his response. Since the accident, I have tried to teach him how to yodel but instead he farted so hard, a shart actually shot out his bobo. But grandma with her strength, smacked his face. BIFF, POW, THWACK! It thinnificated his already quite small bilateral maxillary sinuses and they bled, creating an ocean filled with pirates tinier than sin and filthier than your mom. But it evaporated when a peaceful leprechaun screamed “Bacon more than three miles away!" Then the snail army started shooting lasers out of their plump, red, bulbous gonads. Their leader, Pontificus the Great, grew a tooth straight out of his sturdy shell. Boozha killed it. But then BurnPyro revived Pontificus, wiggling his big fat... tongue, which he used to slather everyone with banana yogurt. Despite his best attempts at murder, Pontificus stood firmly watching his hordes. And with his massive eyeballs watching everything, spontaneously transformed into gigantic spheres of indiscriminate goo, as his arch nemesis Serkan very slowly stroked his majestic beard and thought of Girls Gone Wild... Boobs bouncing everywhere. Girls kissing girls. On a dare he decided that abstinence was wiser and so he drank until he floated like a duck down the mystical river Styx; where he met, not just one, but three giraffes who were singing with erections that reached the stars of a rainbow unicorn. Suddenly Doctor Who appeared with the clumsiness of a laden cupboard. He was drunk because of extraterrestrial aliens which took great pleasure in molesting his butt. He wasn’t ok with free love because Hitler was molesting him all day and all funky fresh in the rear end. And he liked to think about how to stop(!) "Hammer Time” so he asked the alien to probe Hitler; which he did. “Someone posted twice - this is madness!” Exclaimed the president, then the alien took his bendy straw and stabbed Hitler. “I loved him” wept the alien and his tears drowned the world. CHAPTER 2. He had tequila in a strange, yet oddly right, rocks glass that hummed a lullaby that sounded like pigs on meth voraciously mating with a frightened ostrich. It was his love of fowl that felled him. Doctor Who killed millions of innocents with his pinky and a rusty Sonic Screwdriver. After shoveling the driveway, the Doctor liked some slashfic writing and futbol playing hippos. He also cut his wrists to look like a wheelchair potato. His efforts blossomed into cabbage. “That was weird”, said the lion to his beautiful lost queen, "She has three heads". They ate Who; he was tasty and so squishy that his flesh jiggled like jello (and) like Santa’s belly on sunny days (or happy days). Yonder in the glorious fields of rice and corn, pudding and cake, tacos and fajitas, ass or tits - it didn’t matter. (The) post was deleted until someone saw (it) red, googly (and) gyrating. “Do not delete, (I’m) lost and confused (and) I am sorry”, a wanderer said to the lion, “Perhaps I may see your boobs?” Unamused, the lion denied the request because obesity killed my sex drive. "But my passion (is) for you - you are a sexual being from the land of confusion and purple flying squids. Your fat tentacles are miniscule compared (to) my huge throbbing pelican named Sam." Pelican is code for ************ and other things. Besides, ************ (is) boring to lions. Besides what does a lion ********** with? As the snail went off topic and reached a kid with chickenpox, it ran, repulsed and began to bury his body under the hot desert sands. Yet it wasn’t enough. So he **********s to harden sand into solid glass that can fit a large anus (and) disappeared. Inappropriate topics began to form in the sky - “My oh my! - not more giraffes”. But it was a large anus filled with giraffes (that) disappeared again. “Stop with this madness!” Meanwhile, in America, cows were migrating into an anus full of butter. (It) turns out that 2+2=are those words? I think to myself and dance. Now I’ll prance, purposefully awkward, thereby reversing global warming. Despite the confusion, global warning receded. Though not without the help of the Power Rangers and the snails. “Oh Pontificus, ye sly dog of dirty snail things that sparkle like a fairy’s vomit in a verdant, yet oddly lackluster secret dragon lair filled with eggs (that were) stolen by a man eating ostrich - What is thoust favorite way of dining in hell that is earth? - Is it perhaps outlandish to think (that) forty-three shaved gorillas are smarter than 56 hairy pigs who have syphilis?” To be clear, I like ducks (and) I am advocating for their rights to enter brothels (even after church excommunication for orgies, with charcola loving, fiddle playing frogs that speak fluent German and French, while dancing like tarantulas with arachnophobia.) Meanwhile, on the farm, there was a monkish rooster who often ate babies whole and regurgitate them because he felt guilty. For the babies were so cute (that) the sexy farm girl loved her goats - for they were arousing to her. “(Is) global warming receding?” said the farm girl with (an) ominous wiggling, as she tucked away her big red, throbbing sandwich down her pants. Filled with ecstasy, she felt the meat fill her up. “STOP!” said the farm girl orgasmically eating a burrito using her feet. "Oh so neat and horny", said Bertha the farm girl, "your flower is not very pretty.” Pontificus and Serkin raised an army of mighty ostriches, who fired lasers while drinking tea and playing volleyball, to kill Bertha, the talking dolphin, which loved poptarts. Ah, glorious poptarts. Cherry and blueberry. Frozen or burnt. Eaten or uneaten. Yet glorious always. All the time. Succulent like wet and grass-filled slugs from the Steppes. Bertha is (a) farm girl who dances to the moon and the stars, so that one day twelve of the thirty little lambs (could) team up with an endless Warogg with unstoppable. The ensuing massacre ruined my appetite. I then discovered the real purple hat worn by Purple Top withered for 2 seconds, (and) then grew tentacles- many of which pierced the heavens. Bertha fought well, but Serkan killed the farm animals to impress a psychopathic killer named Billy Jim Bob. Serkan loved him and wanted to make sweet love inside a cave filled with bears. CHAPTER 3. Bears hate Serkan, as do most spine cats and howlers. Thus Serkan died as Gnark died. Dirge, however, lives (and) is filthy like a prostitute’s butt. We must worship without regard or regret. Furthermore, cauliflower is great with well aged mayonnaise, as well as flame-retardant, luke warm butter. His butt itched annoyingly so, and the mogas giggled (and) Dirge got angry. But luckily Snuffaluf***us, friend of all, strengthened the bond of giraffes and yellow creatures everywhere. With a dictionary, he looked up and sneezed (and just) like that, he sharted pixie dust with the goblins who grew three bleeding nipples. The giraffes watched confusedly while the monkeys jumped up and toppled over bedazzled tortoises. But then, Thor appeared with no clothes on. He shivered and began dancing like a mating ostrich (and) a passing koala decided to join. His koalafications were valid and legit as @$!&! BurnPyro is Boozha’s hero, **** AssBlood. For reals, but Dagdaped was jealous of Loyaute’s love for BurnPyro’s rhymes about snail armies in pig’s blankets. “Shut up BurnPyro” Loyaute said infuratedly, “You thread hyhacking, no-good rotton pig-stealer - where do you Kung-Fu in the dying light of the last waltz?” Concluding the waltz with a back-flip, Eminem and Miley mounted Sauropods and sang about Jesus while spinning pottery. I have to lick Henry’s beard for fear of losing his virginity to the farm animals. For fresh juice, sometimes Henry slides down water slides, slippery, sliding, slides with Randy (the) rambunctious and psycho unicorn, who ravages mermaids while playing the violin with seven mearcats. ( Will this ever end?...)
Agreed on both accounts. Although, like any good story, the occasional tasteful sexual inuendo is much needed. It just shouldn't be overdone
