butt stairs

New Butt Stairs

Atlast, a stair you can pocket your buddy with!!! Chunk your buddys billfold and insert a step. that easy! Great for sports games and high cupboard crawlings. Fun at the apple orchard or anywhere you wanna get high.


Caution: Butt stairs may cause butt stare.

Roughing It

Feel around in the tent, I know your bedside water is somewhere. Be careful for my tinkle potty. Yes, I have one and its next to my sleeping bag and the lid doesn't fasten like it use to. And you sure don't want to mistake it for your bed side water. Urine trouble if you do and you know I had tiny Bass and ranch style beans by the campfire tonight. Aint no way I was going outside the tent to do my stuff tonight as its 2 below.
You find it? I know why you so parched. Its because of all that summer sausage you are eating. Any preserved meat will have loads of salty and dehydrator chemicals as they are used to suck out the decay that naturally should be happening to it. You need to eat fresh river food like that Bass I caught. They were tiny but it is fresh and clean of dehydrators like Alkaline.
Good lord you are freakin. Maybe the tinkle potty is your best option. I know you can drink tinkle if you are hard up. I did it once in the Barcade bathroom with my friend Shane. Not bad, but we had to run to the bar to get some water to wash the pee out of our mouths. You may want to find your bed side water before sucking on my Tinkle Potty.
Alright, shit ill shut my hole. Damn its darker than the La Brea Tar pitts in here. And thinking of which, does that thing really exist? Are there really dinosaurs frozen in time in those tar pits and is that the exact tar we use on our roofs? That politician Hucklbee doesnt believe in Dinosaurs. I wish he wouldd take his foot out his mouth and stick it knee deep in La Brea tar. Hell if its true then that sticky pit is what killed all them Dinos, I bet one by one they all jumped in the same bottomless pit of tar until they were all gone. Just like them suicidal chihuahuas that leap off the cliffs of Mexico because its so hot and there is no water to drink and they have been eating processed kibble with dehydrators. I bet you could relate.
Well good night and good luck. All the water talk made me thirsty. Good thing I got my camel pack pillow i sleep on. I just sleep n suck on the tube like an orphaned cougar sucking on an adopted hog tit. Different strokes for different folks and if a lost cat can digest pig milk then i should just skip the foldable camper cup and just pee in your mouth. Remember, camping is fun when you come prepared.

Nautical Gift Affiliate Program

Dear Snorry the Elf,

Here is my monthly update. I will be sending straight Santa a brand new carton of hermit crabs for stocking stuffers at the end of the week. I hope them kids suffer a good clawing when they finger the hanging socks from the mantle on Christmas. Also, I have a crate full of jelly fish for coating the rubber outfit that Gay Santa wears while trying to slide down them chimneys. I do not have anything for Original Santa but when I f-ing do I'll send it to the old fart. Bitter? Yes, i sound bitter but being the only elf in the Caribbean is terribly tuff and with no lumber to make toys I aint got much to send y'all except what washes ashore. I tried scuba but my little elf legs even with fins do nothing. I just float out to sea like a chubby whale turd. The last time I tried I just about drowned. One of the biggy people had to fish me and my Styrofoam cooler I used as a boat out of the bay before we drifted out to sea. He harpooned several holes in the cooler and my arms in the process, now I cant even paddle around the shore looking for something interesting for presents.

Honestly, I don't think I am cut out for this nautical gift affiliate program I signed up for. It would be better if i had an intern elf or a slow learning biggy person who worked for cheap to help out. Like Karl from Sling Blade sans the craving for fried potatoes as all we have is sea food down here. If you can call Judy from HR and have her contact the SLB (slow learning biggys) and see if there are any Sling Blade Karl's who like fried shrimp with Jerk sauce, then I will take him in and we can use it as a tax write off at the end of year. He can sleep in one of the over turned boats out on the beach at night. During the day i can put a garden hose in his mouth for breathing and he can dive deep to where the gold of the sea is. In his spare time he can work on the Caribbean biggy's broken out board motors as we don't have lawn mower motors down here. I know how them SLB's like a busted 4 stroke engine to keep the mind concentrating on something other than strangling things.
I also need that bitch Miss Claus to make the damn elf hat with the brim. Ive been asking for it since I came down here. I am redder than Rudolph's nose on cocaine, which btw I got a beach load of the stuff if the party reindeer's Bronzer and Splifzen want me to send up some. Its good shit and it had me up till 10am the next morning shooting the shit with a biggie beggar with no legs. We same height when he aint hand walking and he's pretty much my only friend. I guess its because we are both pretty useless around here and can relate to one another. We laffed for like 4 hours on our binge about how I could stand on his shoulders and we could wear a convincing chicken costume. We could work it to make some extra money with tourist photos out by where the cruise ships park. His hands could come out the bottom of the costume and would make pretty convincing chicken legs and feet. Id tie my elf hat off my face to make a nice looking beak. Like the saying goes you have to work with what you got, and all we need is some feathers and a feed sack for the rest of the costume. Send some if you can. Okay, gotta go comb the beach for some more crab crap and shell shit that no one wants.


Bitter and burned,
Lief the Elf A.K.A- The Cocained Chicken of the Caribbean

Idle Bear Poetics VS Busted Bare Digits

Fingerless gloves are poetic indicators of grizzly bear hum songs. This statement may confuse but deem it truth. In Winter, bears hum before hibernation. Its a throaty moan that rumbles a muddied dirt bedroom cave. The humming has a bitch of a pitch that sonor bounces around the chamber sculpting a down comforter of sound wrapping the bear. She loves it and after a few minutes the hum song creates a stillness in the bear that stops all functions of her body. She is now in hibernation. Her fat stores now turn into humming bear feeders.
My fingerless gloves do a great job with warming the middle of my hands. The threads work around my hand and record player needle on my life and love lines on the hand skin like a palm reader DJ. This friction generates a hum that is silent to human ears, yet creates a sonor pitch that stitch blankets of reverberance sheltering finger tips from the cold. Well, this is what I tell myself when my digits are numb. I say "These two fingers are not frozen stiff. They are just hibernating caused by the resonating songs of my love-life hand line stories". What beautiful and kinky story songs they must be indeed. Ill have to try and amplify them for a distraction of happy thoughts while the surgeoun garden shear snips off my fingers from frostbite.
The Hollis Truth:
Fingerless gloves are a joke and so is that "hibernating" bear. Its not nature causing him to sleep like a drunk. Its his lacodazical lazy outlook on life that has caused him to sleep away winter and thus half his life. He couldnt be bothered with it all. Just like the person who sewed up my gloves without finger tips. They just couldn't be bothered with needling a tip stitch to close my gloves I guess. Stuffed teddy bears are cute, stuffed people who sew are food coma-ed and cannot round off a mitt. They dropped the gauntlet on finishing gloves and If I find them im gonna thump em' in the head with my little hurting squirting hand stumps.
Your neglect is seamstressing me out and I can bear-ly sleep at night cuz of the phantom fingers fiddling for more glove coverage! Put that in your smitten kitten mitten covered pipe and smoke it. Your catnapping bong packed with bear poetics is the sad end result as you are clearly to lazy to even inhale my babbles of wisdoms.

Gourd Decor 3: Accesory Pilgrims

Dear plight listeners, it is our favorite time of year again, Fall. During this time we can take items such as ugly warty squash dug from the dirt, place them upon our dinning room tables, and for some reason it is considered acceptable and sane adornment. And we Babblers are thrilled to do just that! Let us take gourds and decor them around our abodes my friends. And remember the gourd family consists of marrows, squashes, melons, cucumbers, and the forgotten, yet most functional of all gourds, the loofah.

Which brings me to this months decoration tip. Yes my quandary quaffers, we again focus on the ugly stepchild of gourds, the loofah. As you remember the loofah is indeed a gourd and not a fucking spounge. Well decor-aholics, we need to preach this knowledge when we get cavorty at this seasons holiday soirees. Im proposing using the loofah as an accesory. Here is an excellent picture of a loofah lapel broche with a gushing of babys breath protruding from its many gourd holes. It is beautiful and really rams in the fact that its scrub straw can not hold water like a sponge, but that it is a true ornament of fall, an adornment of natures bounty.


Another fine example is hanging a loofah on a dandy vino fing you fling of the side of the wine cup (see example at top). A lovely piece of dainty dangle jewelry. Normally I am appalled of the white string attached to store bought loofahs as this causes people to hang them in showers as a bath sponge. But here it works well on the wine fing. Especially wearing it while doing a holiday toast. Whatever is said during the toast will not matter as it will play second hat to the poetic Thanksgiving image swaying side to side. And that image will remind us of the Thanksgiving story of the Four Pilgrims of the Fore-skinned Father's of the Indian apocalypse, riding high on cornucopias of freedom filled with squashes and white men viruses. The story goes that patrons of the gourd were documented cussing at a man washing his butt n body with what he thought was a yule tide sponge, but it was in fact a gorgeous grown gourd. What a dick. He must of been out of his gourd to wash his backside with such an American relic. The saddled American deity's corrected the nude nimrod by knuckling his nogging with eggs. Thus the holiday custom of drinking "egg nog with rum" to signify this bums "de-gourding" by eggs while he bathed in "rum" colored dirty water. Remember your past you squash washing Americanos!!! Please lets not repeat history and please stop washing yourself with what is basically the American Flag!!!

Happy Thanker,
Hollis

Caution: Contained Horsepower in these Vessels

These containers house horsepower that is under extreme pressure.
Ears are being punctured with horse whinnies and nae's.

A new yogi is the conductor in these presserved energy concerts.
He meditates the horse power out through eye rays that mimic the man called Sun.

A fresh new approach to harnessing gods gifts of stored energys.
The popular energy is dinosaur decay fueling out your gas pipe.

Oil is filthy and sticky so lets go back to pressurized horsepower.
Drawbacks are meditators with patchole stinky.

Point that horse power towards my open sail.
Lip blow away the unshowered yogi stink
Im flying to heaven on the greenest highway.

Harmful Talents

Jay Walker lives with Jerry Rigger in Van Nuys. Jay loves footing it in front of traffic. His person is empty of patience and his body just flies through life doing as it pleases. He has never looked both ways nor has he ever reflected on consequences. His brain just tells him go. Hes often running in front of oncoming traffic hurrying home in order to watch the commercials on Jerry's knobless one channel TV set. Jay loves commercials cuz they are quick and to the point. He often loses interest when the main TV show comes back on. When that happens hes flinging his body out the taped together screen door, jumping the fence, and running through the neighbors yard as if he owned it. He is off to freak out traffic some more. He will return in 15 minutes for more words from the sponsors. During that time he is usually walking in place, two feet in front of the TV, talking to it.

Jerry built the shack they live in with bric a brac. Nothing is ever broken in Jerry's eyes. All appliances they use are from the dump and have been taped, screwed and glued back together in a lazy half ass fashion. Even his car has bucket seats, I mean his car has buckets for seats. And if you are over for dinner make sure its cooked in the stove as the microwave ovens door is wood and I doubt it came factory installed like that. The amount of radiation that spills out of such a device must be the reason why Jerry's girlfriend Cathy talks so much and why Jays brother Jay Bird is always naked.

Chatty Cathy is often found taped to the bed in the bedroom talking to herself. Some consider it kinky but I just think Jerry likes taping shit and I WISH he would hit her mouth with some. This nonstop talking from the bedroom wiggs out Jay Bird and he often takes flight out the door to get away from it all. Naked as a Jay Bird would be, he runs into oncoming traffic much like his brother during a non-commercial break. The difference tho, is nudity, and that is a problem when children are around screaming at a naked man doing some Jay Walking. He will most likely end up in jail again for another fun filled night next to his buddy Tommy Assfuck.

The Healing Nature of Booze n Snacks

Ha ha, that cute Burro is full of snacks. Wow, jolly ranchers, sugared sour patchers, sweet tarts, Andy Cap hot fries, and wait.....cough drops? You cant do this to the brain. The highway passages to the mind will be opened up from the powers of eucalyptus and make the hippocampus a fructose dumping ground. Sugar is turning to fat up in the head making belly bulges off the east and west sides of the craniums. Holy shit, you are single handedly pushing the human race to evolve into robust noggined aliens. These creatures are not from mars but from the future. The snack burro's with the Vick"s drops are severely messing with genetics, so stop medicating your snacks you fat head. Just because something is sweet and minty it doesn't mean its a safe option for in between meals.
Also, on the weekends after a couple of drinks, you have on occasion, filled my cactus shot glass with Vick's Nyquil. I cant tell how detrimental this is to my person. Waking up from a minty mini coma the next day is one thing. But the combo of over drinking dehydration and my dried out nasal passages is outrageous. My insides feel and look like a kiln. A kiln thats arid enuff to turn a clay donkey into a ceramic snack burro.
Pony me up a pint of problems in a equine vessel. I no longer need a pillow for sleeping off my hangovers. My chubbied cabeza you developed plumps out nicely to craddle my drooling frowning face

Cinco de Mayan

Animals seldom notice me when I visit the Zoo. But today being Cinco de Mayo was an exception. After I had five coronas, Cocky faced me did a lollipop sucker pucker with a whoo-whoo holler and a bent elbow hand scratch on head and belly, the classic monkey dance in front of the Gorilla cage. This was not acceptable to the under evolved thing. Hairy black padded hand slaps went back n forth removing pucker face real quick while his foot hand held my poncho tight against the bars of his cage. My Sombrero was confiscated by the other foot hand in a primate karate/dance move that lasted 5 seconds. Red faced me understood his anger real quick. He like most Mexicans hates the white man for fake celebrating Mexican Independence. We white man need to stick to Mayo n white bread for Cinco De and leave the Mexicans to nacho feast for independence. He saw that I understood now and his powerful feet let me go. I gently laid my poncho and bag of limes in his cage. He offered me some musky smelling hay as a kind gesture. I partook and I noticed he had the softest hand pads, like a powder pounder from a prince matchebelli makeup compact.

While reading his palms it all came together, Im so Ignorant, I had no idea Mexicans were related to Gorillas! The Gorillas were a result of the Spaniards mating with the Aztecs. These sick Spaniards loved incest and kept Gorillas to themselves. Thats why the famous 5 Mayan apostles got jealous, these Spaniards were hogging all the soft touches from the Gorilla hand pads!!! The 5 drunk Mayan Popes prepared for battle and adorned funny hats (sombreros) and drunk cut holes in their sacred blankets(ponchos). They cavorted in their new uniforms and went ape shit fighting the Spaniards to free the Gorilla Mexicans. They lost miserably. The poor survivors depressed with the hornies for the hairy hand pad nad rubs, drank and ate frijoles until they passed out (siestas) ,died, and went extinct. This here is the true story of Cinco De. Viva la revolution! Viva los hand paddios hombres!
I sure understand your frustration caged Gorilla. Your people have been jailed for centuries all for your pillowed paws. Cinco De will never be the same for me my soft handed friend. Touch me, yes, touch me. Yes, and a little more south of the border please if you know what I mean. Im part Spaniard.

Happy Cinco De Padded Handio Mi Plighto Listenardios!

Flying Anxiety Capsules: Sleeping Bag Swimmers

I am flying home on swimmer head flutters. My down filled sleeping bag modules, shape to the waves of air as we descend into caverned trenches.
A complete rep of chlorine water circulates from each breast stroke flap as my swimmer heads bob and keep me afloat. I am a flying container of warmth looking to host an outrigger of a sportsman tonight. He will sleep inside my flesh and I will digest his stresses from life. Ode to the sportsman who flees the mundane ways of the norm, his anxieties will fuel my nutrient stores.

Jazz Does Not Compute. Scientifically Deemed: Lazy Music Mess

Be careful with Jazz its nasty and wrong. Scientists like myself have unanimously proved it is an un-listenable mess of nonsense and should be avoided. The results do not lie and i am publishing a sample for the first time below. The full transcript of the results will be represented in my thesis, Jazz: The Truth to the Nonsense and How it Could Be Transformed Into Other Art Forms as a Weapons of Messy Fresstyling Destruction will be printed in March's issue of Nature.

The Samples below have not been altered in anyway. I use many responders and transistors to calculate my findings on a UNIX base system with a core to core infraction housed in a mother board and networked to an IBM 2008. I input the data time and time again and my computer does not lie. Results are below:

Me: Is Jazz good music or even music at all?
ComputerIBM2008: If Jazz was food it would be a mess of disaster. You would have a bowl of tastes that were all over the place. No need for measuring cups or thought of human mouth fun. A jazz entree is a bowl of dried dill with half a dough ball, a broken toothpick, broth, Au Jus, a pudding pop, mini moos with containers, condiment squirts all over the eater, and this concoction of gross is served to you in a hollow gourd. Not a loofah gourd that many people think is a sponge that could possibly soak up all the funk. But a hard shelled gourd like a bowl.That sounds awful right? Well so does Jazz.

Me: So Jazz is not MUSIC?
ComputerIBM2008: If an interior decorator wants to Jazz up your living room, please say no! Unless you like your couch tossed out and replaced with padded hampers housing thrift store shoes. All of your pictures will be hung cockeyed and your wallpaper zigzagged on your floor and ceiling and never touching your actual wall.

Me: People say they enjoy listening to Jazz though? LOL!!!
ComputerIBM2008: The Visual equivalent to Jazz is Picasso, Pollock, and everything else people hate to look at. If jazz were a movie it would be a choppy bunch of scenes with no plot with a cacophony of bright lights causing flopping in the aisles. Jazz could very well kill people with seizure flops if it was a movie. People claiming to like Jazz are lying. Jazz has become associated with high class. This is false and should be recognized as falsy classy from here on out.

Me: I have been invited to the Blue Note, Jazz and Barbecue Restaurant. Should I go?
ComputerIBM2008: To answer your question I think you would be in grave danger eating anything with bones while Jazz is penetrating your ears. You could startle choke on a rib during a saxophone hemorrhage honk. I'm scared thinking about what a lethal combination a Jazz themed restaurant is. Safety never takes a holiday Scientist. Beware of Jazz.

Me: OMFG what do I do computer? Everyone claims to love jazz?
ComputerIBM2008: Beware of Jazz. It will ruin your palette in your mouth, destroy your living room, and make you look like a rere if you try to dance to it. There is no sense in jamming out or free styling. It makes a mess out of a music sheet and the notes turn in to ladles that fling balls of dough in your drip painting eyes. Beware of Jazz especially in writing. When Jazz is written it sounds a whole lot like babble and nobody likes babble, i repeat, NOBODY!


Well there you go people. Heed my warnings and beware of Jazz. Please help me in spreading the truth about what Jazz really is. It is a cacophony of nonsense, a falsy classy polluting ears with fake feelings of composition. Brace yourself for being ridiculed by the Jazz pseudo lovers that lay claim that it is real music and that they enjoy it. The get frisky and could inflict wrath on your knowledgeable noggin. When something really sounds bad, it usual is. No matter how classy they are when the say it.


Mitchel Frowner, MD. PHD. University of Hollis

Bootaneer Discoveries

Dear Dirty Boy Flauntleroy,

I believe I have found your bootaneer amongst 7 others underneath the guest rooms canopy bed. In addition to bootaneers I have also discovered a rather peculiar assortment of items. These include garters in a bag of BC powder, terry cloth knickers drenched in gastor oil, head bands balled around a wet petticoat, and a myriad of different hand fans. It appears that the hot flashing widow was at it quite a bit. My canopy bed is destroyed from her frumpy humpys. She has lily-paded my duvet with brown sweat staines and bum burned some sweat circle on the credenza. She could have at least ass- cheeked on a coaster and saved my veneer. These bootaneer bangers must have displayed her like a buffet on the duvet and cock propped her to the credenza and got their jollys on her fleeing estrogen eggies. No clue why a bootaneer beau like you would find pleasure in probing a housing of perspiration. But leave it to a fool to climb on up on a frump that is pooling from leg up in diaphoresis.
I have attached a photo of said bootaneers and please by all means circle yours and I will take the molded relic from the fridge and foot messenger it myself over to Redds. After these amazing discoveries I am thirsty and feel like having a Flaming Dr Pepper to honor the moist widow neighbor and her spontaneous combusting menopausing body. Who knows Dirty Boy Fauntleroy, maybe after a couple of flammies with a hard up horny galoot like yourself, I may throw a leg up by the free popcorn machine and toe a kernel while you pummel my going out Pamper panties.

Godspeed your reply,

Mrs. Woolette

Boodwah Blues

Dear Lady Woolete,

My bootaneer was ripped off in your boodwah. Passion play may have flung my petalled broach under your elegant canopied bed. I bet a boodwah as fancy as yours gets cleaned frequently by hired help. If this is the case which I am 100% sure that it must be, would you be so kind as to notify your maids to peel back an eye for my decaying adornment.
If found please have me summoned, I frequent Redds tavern daily and this would be an ideal place to start on your search for my where abouts. Once notified I will rush over with the utmost urgency, since, as we all know that Bootaneers lost during passion plays need to be pressed under plastic and inserted in personal scrapbook journals.
Thanks again for allowing me to use the lavatory during your soiree. Who would have guessed I would be pinned down to your velvet flocked duvet by the widow neighbor. Sweaty with menopasalness, that was the clammiest sex I believe I have ever had. Afterwards, I felt like I had been steamed and saunaed wearing an aluminum jumper for a week then beaten with a witches broom soaked in perspiration.

Yours Truly For Sured,

Dirty Boy Flaunt Leroid

P.S.
If by any means the idea of me being groped, fingered, and flogged on your pink sheet set by mood swinging Lorna gags you up. Then maybe this lil' factoid of plight will cheer you up. I now host some awful uncomfortable back boils of Staph caused by her gonad retreating sweats. Pop one of them and rub your lip and you will wake up with strep throat for sure! I can confirm 10 fold that the previous narly statement is for sure, tried, and true! My throat hurts like theres a baby arm holding an apple made of steel Brillo thats dancing down my throat with some tissue tearing moves like hes a scrubbing the big quart spaghetti pot trying to clean a week old marinara stain.

Dear Culpepper's

Dear Culpepper's Diner-

Im gonna need to start rationing the black eyed pea deliveries.Had a bad crop. Got Okra and new market vegetable red Hominy. Its like regular Hominy but with a woody robust, atleast thats what the dealer pamphlet states.The plight of my hard endevors with the black eyed peas are unforseen now but as with any staple it should bounce back next season. Since my black eyes are dead, I have turned my attention to jellies. I got every glass container filled and sealed with different preserves ranging from peach to strawberry. Dont know if you are interested but i got a bumber crop in them and my jelly thumb has really been hitting the mark when it comes to preserves. I also have Gourd bird houses and ladle cups to sell in the gift shop. I reckon 10 dollars n below they could fetch. They are Hand painted with daiseys and birch trees, even some with poppies, some wit red bellied warblers which are native so folks can relate. Ill discount next bill for the pea ration, thanks

Rog

P.S. I made a black eyed pea jelly from the only ones that made it this year. Talk about a nasty mistake that will ruin a poor mans toast. My connection holes from my mouth to my nostrils are packed solid with a black eyed fudge that makes me talk funny now. I sit in my rocker with my tongue constantly trying to uncement my nasal connections.
If you are hard up for Black Eyes, Ill sell nickel samplers of the jelly for novelty kicks. Kids and Adults alike will love experimenting with gross tastes and you could be the talk of the town. All of Sweetwater could end up talking funny and going ballistic trying to unclog the mouth sinuses.
Funny image, makes me laff real funny like cuz of the giant speed bump in my mouth. Tongue is sprained and my left hand has a tooth brush and my right one has toothpicks and shish ka bob skewers. Dig, brush, n picking, aint nothing working. Let me know what you think.

Rog again

My Happy Place

My happiest memories are washing dishes. Just me and flowing aqua and some Palmolive. The three of us come together and a chemical reaction happens, lather, green hued lather. The soft pillowy clean cloud dances on dishes demolishing my fatty fooded filth. Im so full from eating i can hardly circle the sponge in my greasy pan. I eat like a hog. Dinner bell rings a whole bunch in my stomach resulting in tons of old lady food piled high on a skillet. I just stand and eat at the stove, usually out of the pots n pans with the wooden spoon. Im a member of the clean plate club for sure, hell probably the chairmen.
After chowing stove side its back to happy thoughts with the aqua, palmy, and sponge. Cleaning these utensils is sooo soothing. The act of dish washing is like a metaphor for cleansing away everything fatty that I put in my Old Navy body. The washing can take up to an hour. Im flat out exhausted by the time im finished zoning out at the sink. After the last dish is dried the dinner bell rings its ugly ding ding. Well Im back at the stove again cooking in lard, flour, and cream gravy. This round is chicken n dumplings, i love the simplicity of a doughy stew. Afterwards the process continues and im back in my happy place. What a life I have grown accustomed too. If you visited me in my home all you would see is the back of my frumpy frame at the sink or stove. And thats a good thing actually, as its been 3 years since ive seen myself in a mirror. I caught a glimpse recently on the side of the spaghetti quart pot and it just made me famished thinking about what it takes to feed that face of mine.
It would be grand if you visited, I can still converse with a holler while I eat n clean. I got an ear full for you to take in and it would do me good to say something out loud again. If you do stop by will you please bring me some Palmolive. I go through a handle of it a day and I am running low.

Terrorist Chowder

Terrorist chatter is happening right now! A direct line from Kabel to Maine has been established and maniacs are flowing geberish through a direct dial! During lunch, said Terrorist in Manhattan chatter while eating a chowder that is Tomato based while the maniac terror squadron in New England chatter and chew on a chowder that is cream based. Maps and schematics are being smudged with chowderd digits causing more of a louder chatter to resolve the soupy discrepancies.
A Ryder truck filled with fertilzer bombs pulled into the wrong destination and towels on heads were ripped off and used to scrub maps. The New England teams dirtied towel heads caused a cream stain which attracted dirt n dust and insects with snack lust. The Manhattan scumbag brigade had towell heads that were reddend and chunky style with a green bean mush that caused Habeeb to pinch nose and wreck the Penske truck into the vacant shipping yard. Kaboom! The result, Habeeb never met Allah..... but soon later an innovative insurgent designed a new Palmolive towel hat to conquer chowder.
Learn. Create. Destroy.