We cannot, caught as we are in such a torrent of concern, dance like when the world was young and we danced, for lack of distraction, to celebrate every new dawning of every empty day.
I’m going to win, but is it really winning?
I see that you have had a fantastic evening...honeymoon suite, two women of obvious loose character...But in the future could you please refrain from throwing money at me, telling me to keep the extra ($200), then coming back and asking if you had change?
Oh hideous; the thought of them together is extremely skeevy.
Someday I would like to be in the list of top five scriners; if that’s not possible, then at least the top 10.
Always choose Latin whenever possible: Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate
I would give many and splendid things for a ripe pomegranate at this moment.
It’s a little-known fact that secrets can only be whispered to wolverines while they are asleep, under a full moon, during a month ending in “t”.
If you find yourself overburdened with a secret while in the deep wilderness, keep in mind that the wolverine, while a great keeper of secrets, will fight your every attempt to whisper in its ear with savage ferociousness.
“I’m delighted to report that our phone tap caught you red-handed, trying to curry favor with a public servant,” Mayor Ginger said with relish.
Artist: Randy Weeks
Album: Madeline
Year: 2000
Genre:
Bitrate: 224 kbps
Download (12 tracks, )
“Ma’am, I don’t care how sharp his claws are, this is a job for firefighters, not the SWAT team,” snarled Captain Jones.
I regret nothing more terribly then looking up the definition of a Dirty Sanchez which, as it turns out, is a real act.
I bet the bad idea people would be good for recycling, although I can’t for the life of me figure out what to make out of them.
The Queen of Tartar surveyed her troops, with a happy sigh.
“I don’t know if Rosemary’s an informant, but she’s getting way too friendly with the pigs for my comfort,” commented Lester.
Artist: The Killers
Album: Day and Age
Year: 208
Genre:
Bitrate: VBR ~ 200 kbps
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By evening’s end, John the Conqueror, who’d ran a shady little gambling den on just about every block of the neighborhood for as long as anyone could remember, had been hung out to dry.
As the last embers in the fire died, Officer Paprika looked at his wife lovingly and said, “Come to bed CorriAnn dear.”
Officer Sandalwood couldn’t believe how terrible her luck was… some stupid girl band had stolen her nickname and she could no longer respectably be called Sporty Spice.
I would have been happy to explain the situation and take total blame for the mistake had you not been a total bitch about it...Your room is on the second floor and I’m sorry, we do not have an elevator...Enjoy your stay.
In Texas, cashiers at the pizza places have no idea what you’re talking about when you say “Canadian bacon”, and tend to gawk at you like a fish peering through their bowl.
I swear my fingers have gotten fatter, because my wedding ring is much too tight, now
Clove’s hideout was beginning to reek and she worried, with good reason, that the scent of apples would never be enough to hide her from the Spice Hounds.
Her smile was like a faded white - lackluster and uninterested - and it never touched her eyes.
Tweed Uppercut – placing a six pack in front of his friend Buzz Jones – suggested that after downing a couple Schlitz they could give each other a Brazilian, but Buzz Jones – normally quite congenial by nature, though it would take more than a couple of brewskis before he could drip hot wax around his friend’s hairy butt crack, said he would prefer to watch the Bronco’s game on cable – thank you very much!
Artist: The Pretenders
Album: Break Up The Concrete
Year: 2008
Genre:
Bitrate: VBR ~ 200 kbps
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Sometimes Chrissie Hynde will stop by the house just to tease me. “You had your chance twenty years ago,” she told me last night, just before she slipped out the door before I could try and sneak a kiss. “By the way, you look fantastic in your boots of Chinese plastic.”
My heart always thumps when she talks to me that way.
Some days are so elegantly beautiful that one might even feel generous enough to feel kindly towards butterflies.
Not only does misery not love company, it finds it intensely annoying and usually shoos it right back out the front door.
I smile all the damn time, because the lines are a-coming like it or not, so they might as well be ones of laughter instead of misery.
I just smile, once in awhile because I don’t want the lines on my face.
Although enticed by the options available for raising the temperature to that needed to melt marshmallows, Elvinia decided instead to go with the Fluff.
I’ve never been happy with the layout of Scrine Comics, so let’s place all the blame for me not cartooning on that. How can I possibly be creative when deep in the back of my mind I know I won’t be happy with how those drawings are displayed? And before you start pointing fingers and telling me, “But my therapist said...” I’m going to let you in on a little secret. The therapy community is trying to fool you. There is nothing more cathartic than blaming all your shortcomings on someone or something else. Nothing at all, except maybe, drawing cartoons.
Is there a little bit of me in every cartoon? I don’t know. I suppose there is. In some it’s probably painfully obvious, like reaching for the moon and coming up short, but in others it’s probably buried a tad bit deeper into the Sharpie ink.
When I see someone on a Segway, I automatically assume he/she is an a**hole.
I’m VERY selfish...So selfish that I don’t care about your catastrophes...I feel like everyone should do what I want, when I want, with no questions asked.
“If you love marshmallows so much, then you should just go out and buy a whole fucking bag of marshmallows; you don’t need us to provide the mini-marshmallows for your every whim and fantasy… oh… well.. we COULD provide for that one, granted that you send us a copy of the tape.”
Every adjective McMillen knew had been bent and broken during the writing of the company newsletter, and now they sat exhausted, tucked away in some corner of McMillan’s brain, refusing to come out again until they’d had a nice long weekend’s rest.
Fender learned the hard way that ‘oh, just you wait’ is an awkward response to one’s boss professing to be looking forward to reading one’s report.
Colonel’s biscuit bowl.....
perfection designed by God.....
or just some potheads. -Friday haiku
It’s better to be a well-known drunk that to be an anonymous alcoholic.
I wonder if my idea of justifiable homocide is within the bounds of the law…
This is the oldest I’ve ever been.
While not as convenient as a phone booth, nor as funky as a black & white swirling vortex, the bungee cord definitely has speed on its side.
I don’t know if he will ever understand how bad I feel and how hard I am trying.
Ron “Buddha” Jeremy taught that enlightenment is as simple as telling the large plastic clown at the drive through to biggie size your number 2 combo.
Exactly how much bungee cord does one need for a three-week freefall?
She stood on the precipice, picked up her books and fell off the face of the earth—but not before checking to make sure her bungee cord was secure and intact.
I am a bear ‘mouse of very little brain, but I’m pretty sure when one bank wants to loan me money for less than another will pay me to put it in a CD, something is seriously amiss.
“So let me get this straight,” said the teenaged, purple-haired Bronwyn to the doughy middle-aged woman claiming to be her future self, “George Bush’s idiot son has run the country into the ground, the World Trade Center has been blown off the face of the earth, the Soviets aren’t called Soviets anymore, and nobody pays much attention to nuclear weapons unless they’re being built in North Korea or Iran, Arnold Schwarzenegger—Arnold Schwarzenegger? we’re talking about the guy who plays the killer robot and Conan the Barbarian, right?—is the governor of California, the most popular shows on television are called “reality tv” even though they’re heavily scripted by non-unionized writers, and the best political commentary on tv is made by the guy who does the sports features on CNN...do you have any more of that chocolate-chip-mint-flavored angel dust you are obviously on?”
Bananas, once thought to be a binding agent, have been clinically proven to be beneficial to colon health – thanks to vitamin B-6 – and while the word “bananas” is not as funny as “corn,” the most hilarious word in the English language, it is at least as noble as the infamous yellow vegetable.
I should probably be thankful that I’m not so bludgeoned by news of the melting economy that I’m inured to news of a) the upcoming expiration of the START treaty or b) the Russians still hating us, but somehow “thankful” is not the word that comes to mind.
Even though the quick fix took less than two minutes to finish, the chief was not able to avoid her telling him the complete history of her cat.
When someone slips you $100 for no good reason, just take it.
When I grow up I want to be Sid Haig.
We had puddles!
What would have seemed poor planning a year ago (failing to reinvest my 401K rollover from my previous job, and instead letting it sit in the savings account) now looks like exceptional foresight, and I refuse to disabuse anyone of that impression.
Because I live somewhere where storeboughten tomatoes are the only thing available in the winter, I eat the tomatoes from my gandpa’s garden after they have reached the point where they probably shouldn’t be eaten.
In one of my first sentences I asserted that Keith would one day combine all the sentences into one coherent work; now, I’m not so sure, given the state of the world and coherence in general.
Never involve yourself in Keith’s Scrabble game if obscure latin obscenities are acceptable game play.
I feel like a hand puppet, but not in a good way.
The best advice I ever read was on a bottle of aspirin: “Keep Away From Children”.
I plan to use the word storeboughten more in my daily routine.
Ever since I grew my own heirloom tomatos this summer I’ve vowed to never again *ever* eat another storeboughten tomato.
Our thanksgiving feast- Bill the sleepy turkey - was always hopped up down on something or other, and, while dad always said that it was nothing, I could swear that I had seen Bill actually EATING other turkeys for a tryptophan-induced high low.
I refuse to eat raw tomatoes because the firm, fleshy exterior doesn’t match the squishy, gooey inside. I think it’s still in evolutionary transition and I don’t care to interrupt the process.
I’m not even going to attempt to write a sentence to stand up to the headline which represents, when put together like that, two of my favorite words in the English language.
so i’m pee-rusing the new post index feature tryna see when suddenly returned prodigals elisson and glee riot were last here before their mysterious (abductions?)dissappearances when suddenly i notice that, immediately following ME in that very index, are (dun-dun-dun): Elisson and Glee Riot!!!
It’s curious how attractive robots find elbows, and I mean that in every way imaginable.
After retrieving the morning paper, I immediately flip to the obituaries and gloat.
i had worried, when i was separated from my job in 2006, not only about ceasing to contribute my checkly pittance towards retirement, but about instead having to borrow back what i had so recently put in, simply to weather the oncoming storm; now, having entered my third year of happy re-employment, still insufficiently paid to allow for any additional retirement allotments, it seems i will not have have lost so much after all having already “borrowed from myself” the proceeds that would otherwise be diminishing as we speak?
I don’t really care when they play Christmas music.....I’m looking forward to Mardi Gras.
I start listening to Christmas carols in July every year, but I hate Christmas and Christmas festivities.
To whom ever confessed that Christmas music makes them homocidal, please, for the safety of everyone, stay the hell away from Wal-Mart for the madness has begun.
Juanita did not find the equisite torture of watching their retirement become fodder for future generations of rocking-chair-on-the-front-porch-based Great Depression storytelling nearly as enjoyable as Juan seemed to find it.
Consider this a confession in advance: If I hear Christmas music any time before Thanksgiving there will be bloodshed.
I went to the cupboard, and only was it not bare, it was full of healthy snacks and fresh fruit.
The stock trader on the NYSE floor looked at the computer, thought, “Do I do what the computer model tells me to do or do I do what my heart and mind tell me to do?” and then he burst into flame.
Croquet ball substitute when no hedgehogs are handy.
Dislodging stuck kites (and tennis shoes) from trees when no long sticks or rocks are handy and your tennis shoes are already stuck in the tree along with the kite.
Dr. Leopold discovered that the conscience is very much like the hymen: Once it is breached by that first lie, ethical breach or outright crime, chances of its recovery are near-zero and those who say otherwise are deluding themselves.
I only brush my teeth in the morning.
If Angie was a mother, she could give the overly paranoid 6,434,312 “the look” and change the world for the better, then maybe take them out for ice-cream to show how proud she was, if only…
boff (also boffo, boffola)—outstanding (usually refers to box office performance); “ ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ has been boffo at the B.O.” (See also, socko, whammo)
OSHA began cracking down on the trapeze in the Ringling Bros. corporate offices when several vertically challenged accountants broke arms and legs when traveling from accounting to logistics.
Politburo chief Ivegotze Trotskey snuck into Juan’s warehouse late one night putting tiny pin pricks into the air cushion suicide catchers as he would be damned if those capitalist pigs on Wall Street would live without consequences.
The email claimed that taking the little blue pill would save me from embarrassment, so when I couldn’t remember my presentation material at work the other day, and the other employees started to snicker and the bosses all began to frown, I popped a couple of those things into my mouth, just to help me get through it, and believe me, when you’re standing in front of all your coworkers, those pills just made matters a whole lot worse.
Juan made his second million during the depths of the Great Depression of 2008 much faster than he made his first million when he started enforcing the ironclad “all consequences” liability waiver his lawyers inserted in the pre-dive fine print and then rigged up the air cusion to with ropes on each side and charged $100 a person to the gathering tourists who wanted the opportunity to, if they wished, pull aside the cushion at the last minute.
Inspired by a single sentence on the obscure website, Scrine, Juan made his first million in the depths of the Great Depression of 2008 when he bought a used firefighters’ “air cushion” suicide catcher, bashed out a tenth-story window on a Wall Street skyscraper, and started charging $100 a head to stock brokers and others who wanted to do “the dive” without consequences (since they’d grown up entirely without consequences, why start now).
He wobbled and stumbled, boggy and distended, from the dining table to the groaning dread of the overworked couch.
Life’s a bitch and I can’t control her.
It was then that he saw it. The innocence in her bright, blue eyes. Her simplistic nature had always been masked by her “don’t give a fuck” attitude. A defense mechanism. Natural to her. She didn’t know, for she couldn’t see it. “Defensive Realism” she had nomered her pessimism…
But it wasn’t at all...Underneath everything, there she was, a sad, hopeful little girl playing grown up games…
He could now comprehend...Now he understood the pull, the non-physical attraction. It was then, as he watched her eyes sparkle with naivety, his mission became clear. He had to protect her in the only fucked up and sick way he knew how...He had to change her. Build her up and knock her down. He knew. He loved her, more than he could ever love another, so protection was what she deserved...Protection from others, but mainly, protection from herself. The world would eat her alive, but not before she self-destructed…
Tammy had sunk to new lows; now she was ranking below office worker extraordinaire and forced to become a seasonal sales associate at a local department store; she couldn’t be far from a job requiring a hairnet now.
how is it that we now find ourselves living in an era where the PIRATES are winning?
Sometimes the only thing that keeps me from telling other people, point-blank, “you know, you’re not as funny as you think you are” is the fear that they’re thinking the exact same thing about me.
I’ve swapped chewing gum with someone I loved, but I’d only share a toothbrush in a dire emergency.
If this is supposed to convince me that I like Vista, maybe they should make sure the website actually works…