Crayon-licking pumpernickel stereotypes divulge their wildest imaginations to the assemblage of unintimidated pastry thieves as the whole truck (and everybody aboard) skids to a gravelly halt.
The kettle would prefer to boil over, but nobody’s filled it for six years at this point. You wouldn’t think that kettles have very good methods for recognizing the passage of time, but you’d be mistaken.
I feel the cleaver’s butcher fall by the waterhouse under the porcelain doll’s broken eyeball, color of blue.
Exasperating nothings with a fever for forethought and a riddle basin for catching unbequeathed daisies–follow not, for the least of your troubles would become the most. Guarantees rarely govern small towns in the third month of a blizzard, but you can set your watch to the puckered up old mouths going to meetings and complaining … Continue reading Before They Even Milked
Whoever (besides you) could have thought of putting Betsy White in a limousine before her operation? All common sense stands to reason with you, but you seem to take no mind. Precautionary measures should have been taken to at least notify any kind of sane individual as to the negligent way you prepared to take … Continue reading Kind of Sane–Behind the Transaction
Stop that there, ya hear? It’s not time for more snow until I tell you it’s time for more snow. Last time you didn’t heed my wishes, I was forced to raise my voice and bang on the pots and pans for four hours, to the chagrin of my family and next-door neighbors. Only when … Continue reading Means the Cops