**Warning! This true story contains graphic elements!**
The old Albertson's is gone.
In its stead, a glorious beacon,
A shiny, gilded destination sits:
Trader Joe's.
The place with the organic lager,
The blue label Samuel Smith's.
I had not drunk from it
in quite a spell.
Needless to say,
I was stoked.
So excited was I
To sit and sip from this
Wonderful brew
That I did not wait to sit
Before I sipped.
Nay.
I popped the top
With gusto,
With exuberance,
With almighty excitement.
A hiss escaped,
The pressure released.
I leaned in close
That I should quench my thirstiness,
My parched gullet,
My desert mouth.
And then, alas!
My shoulder twitched,
And bits of tooth
Fell in the sink.
This was not fun.
Yes, but laugh,
Dear friends,
It is O.K.
For I have learned
A valuable lesson.
Henceforth, I
Shall always drink beer,
That revitalizing elixir,
That nectar of the wise,
That libation of the Gods,
From out of a glass.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Chim Chim Goes Shopping
IEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!
Where are you, bananas? Where are the bananas?
I want bananas. BANANAS! BANANAS!!!
I will choke you. Where are the Bananas?!
How can you not have any BANANAS?!!
ooooOOOOOOOHHHHH-AAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!
Bananas! B-A-N-A-N-A-S! Bananas!!
I cannot find the fucking bananas! Where are your bananas?!
I can and will kill you. Where are you hiding the bananas?
Bananas! BANANAS!!!!!!!!!
I will eat your face. Give me bananas!
I don't want cheese. Give me a banana! DAMMIT!!
Why won't you give me a banana? BANANA!!
(Finally finds a banana).
BANANA! BANANA! BANANA!!
I love Bananas!
stupid monkey
Where are you, bananas? Where are the bananas?
I want bananas. BANANAS! BANANAS!!!
I will choke you. Where are the Bananas?!
How can you not have any BANANAS?!!
ooooOOOOOOOHHHHH-AAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!
Bananas! B-A-N-A-N-A-S! Bananas!!
I cannot find the fucking bananas! Where are your bananas?!
I can and will kill you. Where are you hiding the bananas?
Bananas! BANANAS!!!!!!!!!
I will eat your face. Give me bananas!
I don't want cheese. Give me a banana! DAMMIT!!
Why won't you give me a banana? BANANA!!
(Finally finds a banana).
BANANA! BANANA! BANANA!!
I love Bananas!
stupid monkey
One Day
I will wear only bathrobes and ride only horses.
I will be Lord of the Hummingbirds.
I will learn to fly short distances and make a lot of money delivering pizza.
I will name my first child Maximum, and my second child Wilbur.
I will fold all my laundry...with my mind.
While everyone is asleep, I will merge Myspace and Facebook and call it FaceSpace.
I will grow my hair long and shave a hammer into my chest hair.
I will hump every dog that humps me.
I will rollerblade down Broadway wearing only cellophane and a blue tarpaulin cape.
I will eat only applesauce and drink only absynthe.
I will wear a thong on the outside of my tux.
While everyone is asleep, I will outlaw the phrase, 'been there, done that.'
I will make banality a crime.
Children will bathe without being asked to.
Women will come with an instruction manual.
Alarms will go off when no one laughs at your jokes.
Anonymous public flatulence will be punishable by flogging (come on, just own up to it).
A college degree will be necessary to get into college.
Convicted frotteurs will become astronautical janitors.
Penitentiaries will become even more dehumanizing with the invention of 'see-through' concrete.
Jell-O will only be available in one color...black.
One day I will defeat the internet.
I will be Lord of the Hummingbirds.
I will learn to fly short distances and make a lot of money delivering pizza.
I will name my first child Maximum, and my second child Wilbur.
I will fold all my laundry...with my mind.
While everyone is asleep, I will merge Myspace and Facebook and call it FaceSpace.
I will grow my hair long and shave a hammer into my chest hair.
I will hump every dog that humps me.
I will rollerblade down Broadway wearing only cellophane and a blue tarpaulin cape.
I will eat only applesauce and drink only absynthe.
I will wear a thong on the outside of my tux.
While everyone is asleep, I will outlaw the phrase, 'been there, done that.'
I will make banality a crime.
Children will bathe without being asked to.
Women will come with an instruction manual.
Alarms will go off when no one laughs at your jokes.
Anonymous public flatulence will be punishable by flogging (come on, just own up to it).
A college degree will be necessary to get into college.
Convicted frotteurs will become astronautical janitors.
Penitentiaries will become even more dehumanizing with the invention of 'see-through' concrete.
Jell-O will only be available in one color...black.
One day I will defeat the internet.
What If Reality and Unreal Tournament coalesced?
What if, during a peace accord, Condi Rice was shredded by Brutalis' flak cannon?
What if, during a press conference, Tony Snow was fatally enlightened by Azure's shock beam?
What if, during public fellatio, Kim Jon-il was carved up by Othello's green shaft?
What if, while stealing signals under his natty sweatshirt, Bill Belichick was made extra-crispy by Mr. Crow's lightning gun?
What if, while playing fetch with Barney, George W. Bush tripped on his own grenade?
What if, during a public service announcement, French Stewart was mowed down by Gkublok's mini gun?
What if, while polishing his teeth, Mitt Romney was obliterated by Goth Girl's rocket?
What if, while selling African children, Dick Cheney was mauled by Riker's shield gun?
What if Michael Richards made a crater?
What if Howie Mandel was slimed by Axon's goop?
What if, while filming his next masterpiece of retardation, Uwe Boll was pummeled by Drekorig's redeemer missle?
What if, while playing a kazoo, Fran Drescher had a hole put in her by Scarab's sniper rifle?
What if Vince Vaughn could not avoid my shock combo?
What then?
What if, during a press conference, Tony Snow was fatally enlightened by Azure's shock beam?
What if, during public fellatio, Kim Jon-il was carved up by Othello's green shaft?
What if, while stealing signals under his natty sweatshirt, Bill Belichick was made extra-crispy by Mr. Crow's lightning gun?
What if, while playing fetch with Barney, George W. Bush tripped on his own grenade?
What if, during a public service announcement, French Stewart was mowed down by Gkublok's mini gun?
What if, while polishing his teeth, Mitt Romney was obliterated by Goth Girl's rocket?
What if, while selling African children, Dick Cheney was mauled by Riker's shield gun?
What if Michael Richards made a crater?
What if Howie Mandel was slimed by Axon's goop?
What if, while filming his next masterpiece of retardation, Uwe Boll was pummeled by Drekorig's redeemer missle?
What if, while playing a kazoo, Fran Drescher had a hole put in her by Scarab's sniper rifle?
What if Vince Vaughn could not avoid my shock combo?
What then?
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Dream Elements From Which I Awoke (and The Songs That Accompanied Them)
Where did all this ectoplasm come from?
(All that she wants / is another baby / she's gone tomorrow boy)
Wait a second, this canoe is underwater...
(We didn't start the fire / it was always burnin' since the world's been turnin')
Dear God, will this burning hallway ever end?
(Momma's little baby loves shortnin' shortnin' / Mamma's little baby loves shortnin' bread)
Everyone around me is suddenly holographic...
(I will do most anything that you want me to x2 / But I can't go for that, no, no-can-do x4)
This house is enormous and beautiful, I wonder who lives here?
(Ooh I want to be there in my city / Oh, Oh, Whoa...)
This woman's grip feels like ice...
(In the darkest depths of Mordor, I met a girl so fair...)
What happened to the ground? Ah, crap, I am so totally falling!
(These eyes cry every night / for you / these arms long to hold you / hold you again)
This elephant is way easier to ride than I thought it would be!
(Get up (get on up) x2 / stay on the scene (get on up) / like a sex machine (get on up))
My doppelganger is chasing me and he's got a knife!
(You wore out your welcome / with random precision / blown on the steel breeze)
Am I really the only one at this reunion that's naked?
(Georgia / Georgia, no peace I find / just an old sweet song / keeps Georgia on my mind)
Why is this supermarket outside?
(I don't care if Monday's blue / Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too / Thursday I don't care about you)
Aw shit, I'm late for work again!
(God go make me act a fool (up in here x2) / God go make me lose my cool (up in here x2)
(All that she wants / is another baby / she's gone tomorrow boy)
Wait a second, this canoe is underwater...
(We didn't start the fire / it was always burnin' since the world's been turnin')
Dear God, will this burning hallway ever end?
(Momma's little baby loves shortnin' shortnin' / Mamma's little baby loves shortnin' bread)
Everyone around me is suddenly holographic...
(I will do most anything that you want me to x2 / But I can't go for that, no, no-can-do x4)
This house is enormous and beautiful, I wonder who lives here?
(Ooh I want to be there in my city / Oh, Oh, Whoa...)
This woman's grip feels like ice...
(In the darkest depths of Mordor, I met a girl so fair...)
What happened to the ground? Ah, crap, I am so totally falling!
(These eyes cry every night / for you / these arms long to hold you / hold you again)
This elephant is way easier to ride than I thought it would be!
(Get up (get on up) x2 / stay on the scene (get on up) / like a sex machine (get on up))
My doppelganger is chasing me and he's got a knife!
(You wore out your welcome / with random precision / blown on the steel breeze)
Am I really the only one at this reunion that's naked?
(Georgia / Georgia, no peace I find / just an old sweet song / keeps Georgia on my mind)
Why is this supermarket outside?
(I don't care if Monday's blue / Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too / Thursday I don't care about you)
Aw shit, I'm late for work again!
(God go make me act a fool (up in here x2) / God go make me lose my cool (up in here x2)
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Creative (and Mostly Problematic) Uses for Yippy Dogs
Bicycle horn
Football
Alarm Clock
Brooch
Earrings
Snarling change for those problem customers
Hood ornament
Midget dog-sled team
Burrito that bites back
Tribble understudy
Christmas ornament
Ammo
Fake boobs
Mentally challenged child's hamster
Poop factory
Mine detector
Poison tester
Animatronic slippers
Trusty steed (for a Smurf)
Sanity thief
Paper shredder
Ping-Pong ball storage device
Velcro transportation apparatus
Flea catcher
Accoutrement
Football
Alarm Clock
Brooch
Earrings
Snarling change for those problem customers
Hood ornament
Midget dog-sled team
Burrito that bites back
Tribble understudy
Christmas ornament
Ammo
Fake boobs
Mentally challenged child's hamster
Poop factory
Mine detector
Poison tester
Animatronic slippers
Trusty steed (for a Smurf)
Sanity thief
Paper shredder
Ping-Pong ball storage device
Velcro transportation apparatus
Flea catcher
Accoutrement
Monday, October 22, 2007
The Mongoose's Orgasm
Sad days friends, sad days. Terrible tragedy has struck the Mile High state tonight, in a tremendous sonic outburst of cataclysmic proportions. As always, Augustus Foot (intrepid reporter) is on the scene. And let me tell you the devastation here is, well, devastating.
People running in the streets, broken glass, honking cars. In other words, bedlam.
What happened? How could a city celebrating the first trip to the Fall Classic for the Rockies suddenly find itself in a state of utter panic?
I will tell you. The Mongoose has struck again.
Tonight, before her show at the Pepsi Center, Celine Dion succumbed to an orgasm of soul-shattering magnitude. She was somewhere backstage, and it is, at this time, unclear whether she acted alone or utilized the help of accomplices.
But one things is for sure. The good people of Denver have been molested. Wronged. Simply attacked.
The caterwaul reverberated off the mountains, and sped through the streets of LoDo. Windows exploded, pets fainted, the elderly vomited, and hundreds upon thousands of ears are bleeding.
It is confusing and atrocious here. Debris litters the sidewalk as far as the eye can see. and many fans, anxiously awaiting with bated breath for the Dreaded Mongoose to take the stage, have been betrayed beyond comprehension. The wounded are being trampled by the fleeing hoard. And there seems to be no end in sight.
The perpetrator has fled. Her caravan sped out of sight, shortly after the first victims staggered from the arena. We are still waiting for word from local law enforcement on how they plan to proceed.
Wait...What's that? Oh...
Folks, it looks like we are out of time. In closing, I would like to lend a personal thought. No distance is too great. I fear another tremor may rock this city before The Mongoose has reached the outskirts of town. Please, you cannot be too cautious. Buy earplugs, stuff cotton in your ears, and seal your doors with duct tape.
Celine Dion may strike again. Let us not be caught unawares.
Signing off,
Augustus Foot
People running in the streets, broken glass, honking cars. In other words, bedlam.
What happened? How could a city celebrating the first trip to the Fall Classic for the Rockies suddenly find itself in a state of utter panic?
I will tell you. The Mongoose has struck again.
Tonight, before her show at the Pepsi Center, Celine Dion succumbed to an orgasm of soul-shattering magnitude. She was somewhere backstage, and it is, at this time, unclear whether she acted alone or utilized the help of accomplices.
But one things is for sure. The good people of Denver have been molested. Wronged. Simply attacked.
The caterwaul reverberated off the mountains, and sped through the streets of LoDo. Windows exploded, pets fainted, the elderly vomited, and hundreds upon thousands of ears are bleeding.
It is confusing and atrocious here. Debris litters the sidewalk as far as the eye can see. and many fans, anxiously awaiting with bated breath for the Dreaded Mongoose to take the stage, have been betrayed beyond comprehension. The wounded are being trampled by the fleeing hoard. And there seems to be no end in sight.
The perpetrator has fled. Her caravan sped out of sight, shortly after the first victims staggered from the arena. We are still waiting for word from local law enforcement on how they plan to proceed.
Wait...What's that? Oh...
Folks, it looks like we are out of time. In closing, I would like to lend a personal thought. No distance is too great. I fear another tremor may rock this city before The Mongoose has reached the outskirts of town. Please, you cannot be too cautious. Buy earplugs, stuff cotton in your ears, and seal your doors with duct tape.
Celine Dion may strike again. Let us not be caught unawares.
Signing off,
Augustus Foot
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