Sorry, Wrong Arab!
By despotis
Sorry, Wrong Arab! There once was a lady from China, and her name was Aunt Majima. Sticky, sweet, delusional dyslexia. Almost as tasty as paint balls. I love paint balls because they melt, and they bruise, and they sometimes bleed, But in a colorful rainbow sort of way. We use real bullets in our guns. Reminiscent of my near-drowning in a three-day old bowl of Lucky Charms. Such luck. Goldie Hawn on Laugh In? Goldie Hawn, you're laughing? What? Venus. DeMilo? Is there any other? Did you do it? Confess. I might have. Half of her face is gone now. I squished it while trying to move her. The Phantom of the play doh, swirling on the band contraption. She should have listened to that warning that altered her statuesque life forever. Keep your head and arms inside The Mixer at all times. Foolish girl. I may have solved the psychotic artists lacking various body parts mystery. Artists like to ride, too. Written March 24th, 1997 © on May 21 2001 01:40 AM PST 0 • 10
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"Sorry, Wrong Arab!..."