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drunk, as usual
I like the Beatles, but she made me turn it off so she could "think."
i'm running away, thinking it would be enormously fun to throw myself off a cliff. I can imagine the way my body would contort on the way down; i'd be holding a cup of tea, and would land on a soft hot-hair balloon on its way up. i'd sit there cross-legged sipping at my tea, and would lean over the side of the balloon to shout at the passengers in the basket below: "anyone happen to have any sugar?"
a man in a suit with a moustache and a monocle would reply, "why, yes! I have some brown sugar in this little satchet hanging from my ear!"
to which I could of course reply, "brown! pew! I will accept only the purest of whites."
"you!" he would scream in outrage, "are a sugar racist! get the fuck off our elitist balloon!"
"fuck you!" i'd scream in incensedness, and would then jump off the balloon and contort for a few hundred metres before landing on an effervescent elephant, which would sufficiently cushion my fall that my courageous suicide attempt would be for naught, for which i'd stab the elephant's absurd ears [from which no satchets of ungodly brown sugar hung] eighteen times until it was satisfactorily dead.
i'm running away, thinking it would be enormously fun to throw myself off a cliff. I can imagine the way my body would contort on the way down; i'd be holding a cup of tea, and would land on a soft hot-hair balloon on its way up. i'd sit there cross-legged sipping at my tea, and would lean over the side of the balloon to shout at the passengers in the basket below: "anyone happen to have any sugar?"
a man in a suit with a moustache and a monocle would reply, "why, yes! I have some brown sugar in this little satchet hanging from my ear!"
to which I could of course reply, "brown! pew! I will accept only the purest of whites."
"you!" he would scream in outrage, "are a sugar racist! get the fuck off our elitist balloon!"
"fuck you!" i'd scream in incensedness, and would then jump off the balloon and contort for a few hundred metres before landing on an effervescent elephant, which would sufficiently cushion my fall that my courageous suicide attempt would be for naught, for which i'd stab the elephant's absurd ears [from which no satchets of ungodly brown sugar hung] eighteen times until it was satisfactorily dead.
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*sly smile* you be you oooooo drunk as poo oooooo i'll be me wheeeeee drunk as pee wheeeeee
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(Anonymous) 2003-01-19 12:26 pm (UTC)(link)you know who i am. not bothering signing in.
scented nostrils
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