Monday, April 24, 2000
when all you got is chili but You want some fuckin Ice cream, then the green white wall, the yellow black red purple shit, yup
hear that loud when fingers hit the headphones.
and does that liquor give you cancer, cause you don't want to be drinking cancer. whants the latin word fior liver?????? liver vliever liver, what does unkel, onkel, what disease does drinky onkel get? cirrhosis. Bang Give me fifty points for it.M
Hey, it makes my kankersaurus stop hurting.a
Saturday, April 22, 2000
Mmm. Five pounds lox. $120
The famed turducken.
Seven ounces caviar. $490
Friday, April 21, 2000
I was searching for "old crow whiskey" on google. God bless 'em, they haven't got an internet site. But I found this very shitty-writ article. Which I put up here just to put up something shitty. god bless oLd Crow, anyhow.
Friday, April 21, 2000
Holy Mackerel! It's Good Friday already! Happy Good Friday everyone!
Wednesday, April 19, 2000POTENTIALLY NUMBER TWENTY-EIGHT
The room is white. A green bottle is broken in the corner where Cloisant, who is snoring loudly on the couch and drooling on his ascot, tried to discourage his dog's bad habits.
Outside, the sky is white. The smell of damp grass is being supplanted by the smell of wet soil as the earth is turned out of the field for planting. A moist gray glop sits in the center of the brass picnic table at which Popafern, Mrs Hacklespy, and a very tired Mary Fritos sit. "I am not ..." says the glop.
Mary Fritos interrupts and tells the glop, "I seen baby Harold on the ralph-stool, coughing up cookies from last night's safety food bazaar; I seen Timmy Standley with Terrance and Louise beating powder packets against the right left wall, going to loosen up their noses for powder kegs to match; I seen old guys in the stanky basement mixing bootleg toothpaste; I seen Mortie Gustafson chopping down an oak so slowly in Holly Snidely's ..." but she falls asleep before she can finish.
"I am not structuring you. I am slipping on a whim," says Popafern.
"Do what you will with your strictures, ..." says Mrs Hacklespy.
"No no no," Popafern corrects her, "our scriptures."
"Be that as it may," says Mrs Hacklespy, "bring me ein tass sassafras, bitte."
Popafern leans back, nearly falling off the bench. "You're a rocking horse, and your race is red. There's no use your trying to stomp on Sam, he's crying like a diamond but he fits in your hand."
"I feel like this doesn't make sense," says Mrs Hacklespy.
"Then you've got a bad feeling," says Popafern, and falls off the back of the bench.
Mrs Hacklespy stands up tall as an acorn and says, "Leda and we four got to yard ninety-two. Credit your twelve kay jaw-duck hankey-a-la-jocken." She slumps across the table.
"... a freemason," says the glop.
Wednesday, April 19, 2000
And another longer one, with a picture near the bottom w/ sock monkey & crow.
Tuesday, April 18, 2000
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Tuesday, April 18, 2000
I don't know about hyou but ythat dotns't look so M Mfucking raingdom to me.
Tuesday, April 18, 2000
Liquor avialaibitliy online in WA If your state dones't have this service, write your sentar or congressmane!!!!!!1
Tuesday, April 18, 2000SISSIES HAVE CORN TOTS
Bartleby does Mencken. Bring on the chrestomathy. dook dook dook. i am so completely drunk. I am in The State. Here is the next tepisode ot the story: which I have to format to html now: M
"You go to hell," said Toadex, "I see you play with my poopie purple play dough though."
"No, booby, I make a purple hound hut ... my play dough," said Mr Holland. A clay hut with six walls three feet each stood round in the sand, formed well to enstash Roverto covert.
"You aynut gazze hound, you spackle all your kind," said Toadex.
"Wait. Wait. This does not make sense," said Mr Holland.
"I know you are but what am I that I am?" Toadex asked, and tried to kick Mr Holland's shin.
"Quit figgiting," said Mr Holland, "or I wipe you with poopie. This is the dripping of a jackanape drunkie-doo!"
Toadex put his finger into thick green liquor and painted the walls with this. "Wantum corn dog," said Toadex. Thirteen mothers came out of the wings with fries and buffalo chips. Toadex hastened to taste but was by his monthly mother chastened. "Mr Holland is chaste," said she, and would not let him taste.
"You are not of my caste," said Mr Holland, but his monthly mother spat on his pate for the error and lie.
Monday, April 17, 2000
Ah-oo! Maakies book coming May 15.
A not-qwite-up-to-date archival list with descriptions.
Saturday, April 15, 2000
The beginning of the promised adventure involving Toadex Hobogrammathon, Cloisant Holland, Popafern and Capitapetels, the pracketbirds of Pocketville, and other diverse shit
A SUBLIME CALL FOR NUTBUSTIN'
"As far as horsecrabs is concerned, they've found they answers. And as for you, bitch," Mr Holland continued gruffly, his white stubbly stained with cod liver oil, and big jowls, Marie, big jowls he's got, "you leave to my parliament!" He turned away, shaking his head, "God knows I ... wouldn't a horse shake? Where's his ... where's his beets? Hoa!"
THE UNDERDETERMINED RESPONSE
Irst there was Popafern, and he was a surpassing flatulent melancolicky eggboy. "Jimmie," said Popafern, "why do you chaw the betelnuts?" Econd was your Capitapetels, a surprising young lass who chawed only betelnuts. "Ishtar's son Sammie," said Capitapetels, "I'm wont to bring a fire lake around lake mausoleum." And Ishtar's son Sammie graped Jimmie's twelve gonads and threw them in the hallowing maelstrom of fire named Ashkekuk, and Jimmie graped and twisted Ishtar's son Sammie's right nut, chocked it off with a snap, and threw it as near to Ashkekuk as he could, the whimpering ninny. Ashkekuk ensnared and consumed the thirteenth gonad.
... AND A WORLD GREW FROM THOSE THIRTEEN GONADS
(ESTABLISHMENT OF THE SLOVENLY KINGDOM)
"Rhenish?" asked Toadex.
"Quit making it," said Mr Holland.
"Oswego?" asked Toadex.
"Halve an hour, after he left,"said Mr Holland.
"I mean, what the fuck it ... what the fuck are you on? What what ha ha ha," said Toadex.
"It's my turn to do it, it's my turn to bank, you got forty blank," said Mr Holland.
"Ha ha, Oswego. Dip, hulahoo! Hey way. Bingo! Bingo hello! O! Banko," said Toadex, "I dur get my car. No! Alan, day a grot ... o day's here. Een."
"You turn back stool. The devil if you do," said Mr Holland.