Here goes, from page 1 to 64
The clock struck Jack and Jill up the hill down the drain into the tunnel along the track where the rats eat the scraps to stay alive and annoy people just so they can get fat and envy others who stay slim and be like those who will fight for freedom in order to rule their country and destroy all the little animals even though they were so cute.
Then one day I met this little old, drooling, girl. She said I love lillipops and kisses. They make me happy shared both together when kisses mix make me feel like a star who wanted to laugh and dance the night away.
On Moonlight Bay there was a canoe floating with a monkey inside, wearing a cute little red dress. BOOM! What happened? Monkey no more. Instead a large hedgehog was walking along the shore looking at seaweed and also biscuit, saying “Hey sweet!”. “I am hungry.” “Get me some beef and rum.” “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” Who ordered pizza? Biscuit asked. “I think you have something in your bag I want, if that is a banana shape because I crave some fruit item that is long enough to be cut up in to make a fine hearty meal, also some champagne.
Big doses kill a rat! So we ate it in Chinese restaurant on the ground because they got lots of money in exchange for selling wild rabbits with carrots in their little mouths…black heavy clouds covered the sky – ready to fly? Spread your wings, follow your dreams! And find happiness along the way collecting wild mushrooms, night and day, until a large swarm of bees left their hive and decided to eat us alive. So we ran thinking that we could reach Canada, even though no-one had a map, nor a car, and short legs, but we got to see Elvis who was wearing a white suit.
The next day we had waffles served with bacon and a large fried onion with some tomato sauce and chocolate bits. After which we went straight to the music forum, but I forgot my silly password and had to ask the kind – oh, never mind! Later that day we went astray and found ourselves lost in the jungle with tigers chased by spiders with long legs selling rotten eggs. What a smell. We couldn’t wait for tomorrow, the post came late!!
And the parcel was lost in Cancun. Mayan country. So I had to dance with the local mayor who was no light footed man, even though his surly manner betrayed his inner smile which had not been allowed to fully emerge. He had always kept abreast of current societal goings on until he found cans of paint, “Now”, he thought, I’ll paint Judy’s idea of a coffee drinking orchid, but thought better than to risk killing the orchid. So instead he painted a picture of two squirrels eating acorn nuts, which was strange, but really cute.
Then, suddenly, it started to thunder to the point that the squirrel shat itself. Then it was raining, raining squirrels and well, that’s a sight for sore eyes. The music was from Ireland, where squirrels dance the Irish jig, which is good, except that they’re up in the trees and prone to feeling disenfranchised by trouble in paradise.
This, too, will be the way that they are known for their being so cute. And having big long bush tails. That they like eating acorn nuts. Being playful, they love to run up the trees and pick the real sweet cherries that can be delicious. Suddenly grandma cook cherry pie. This was unusual, as she didn’t have any known recipe for cherry pie, but she lost her false teeth in the toilet and looked for someone to scoop them out. But hopefully wash and make sure that the teeth are very clean. Because she wanted to not bite anyone. Instead she wanted them clean. Now her guest greeted her with an Ak-47 … and Mexican red knee. The machine gun. (we lost the plot here momentarily).
But her guest looked at it and wondered why big spider was crawling up the Ak47’s barrel. Hence the loud bang made her knickers drop with a thunderous roaring what!!! Suddenly the Moon’s face looked down at the sight of the poor knickers lying above and what a sight it was. Seeing the nudity! Now we shall never know who gleaned the most information about the one who thought that ladies’ underwear was completely edible: made of chocolate, lace and frilly cotton or silk.
Are we then through with underwear? The story continues with someone knitting, shaped like a sweater coloured green, which she knew how to knit. From generations of colourful knitted blankets made by ancestors of long ago. Who passed this from generation to knit colourful blankets.
One day, the policemen came and arrested the knitters who squandered the money for themselves. Having saved for inviting an orchestra to perform, they would now have their rhapsody performed. Oboists reeds squawked and the conductor tripped up the lead violinist with a sneaky sidekick who blew into the rehearsal unannounced and decided to glue their reeds together for music, so that they would never again charge willy-nilly out in public again!, until they could assure everyone that they were fully equipped for two public performances. So they finished a flute song with no words as the crowd listened. A curious thing happened as they listened to the sound of the drunken flute players all unable to play music correctly, remember their fingering, and hoping that nobody would notice some funny notes not coming from the right place, instead horrendous noises emanating from their backsides. Suddenly the whole ground shook and opened to swallow the stinking smell that was all fantasy!
Thank goodness it was just the cabbage patch doll running to take cover from the intrepid spider that was spinning its web to catch unsuspecting passers by. Then all of a sudden there was a loud commotion in the distance and guess what happened when they looked to see what the fuss was all about. Two more tarantulas were dancing a spin in their habitat with joy. Onlookers smiled at them and wondered what secret the spiders were hiding. Crickets they ate were chirruping their (again it collapsed a little) little heads off, spiders ate them, and then they sat very confused, just like me, for all eternity.
In webpages on YouTube. Some were very interesting but most were mundane in all regards. Suddenly the video being shown went blank. Hey what did we see a hermit crab doing the Conga dance using its shell as balance as he use (sic) his claws to snag on a nearby fairy. Bruce, the fairy ran off in the woods followed by a herd of wild animals who all bit him in a most peculiar spot. He had to crawl across the wet leaves to laugh till he died.
The next day a policeman came out of the wood-work and decided to take the body and hand it to his mother, so that she wouldn’t have to worry about what she was told by the other people milling around. Joking about it endlessly. Suddenly, a large gust of wind blew west. Corpse scent wafted around the town and people screamed when they saw it was a decaying man’s left earlobe! Most amazingly it still had earrings and wax which was not suitable for candles. Suddenly something happened not far from the dreadful scene that made everything far worse because they ran out of the thing they thought was going to help them. None of the people knew what kind of box they would have had to put the corpse into. Where could they find one? Looking back on it they realised a bad dream had materialised before their very eyes. Now they must indulge in kink and any other form of unnatural acts that are about to happen. But first they must wash their hands and then their feet so anyone would not mind when they put them into bed with them. Because they really needed to focus on reanimating dead perceptions. However once they forgot how to bake cakes they had to visit the bakery. They saw birthday pasteries and cakes laced with a delicate arsenic frosting (cue mysterious music) which when tasted rather like Granny’s arsenberry pie which was known for starting people behaving very strangely and without a care who they buggered. Granny soon started to hallucinate thinking that her laundry was nearly dry, was line dancing with John’s trousers, blown far away. To another land but she realised shen he stood up and made a strange noise, that she’d trodden on a sleeping cat’s tail. It made a noise and she jumped up and grabbed the poor creature while reaching for her husband’s false hair piece which had been taken and placed on the top of Mrs. Jones’ pertruding nose, so large that it touched the opposite wall. Mister Jones, meanwhile, blew his top C (fortissimo!), thereby negating the need to telephone his barber and ask for the Andalusian jazz drummer who doubled on piccolo!
If he could just hit D, he would be the first man to make it figuring this thread which was difficult, given the unusual suspects joining in ominous silence. Bassoonists often make their presence felt by blowing their own noses during quiet, the very important effect a bassoonist with hay fever, which is not … ummmmmm … straw fever which gives you loss of memory making it difficult to participate effectively!
In the concert bassoonists sabotage their music stands so that they don’t have to put empty beer glasses on the seat of the oboist so his bottom remains unsullied. Unfortunately, someone did not adjust the small screw they each went “splat” causing such a drunken musical orchestration. “More drinks?” asked the conductor suddenly. Lets get totally blotto”, said the piccolo player quite loudly, alarming the orchestra. As she sipped drinks through the Shostakovich 5th, her slurping annoying the snoozing pianist, whose snoring was entirely unwarranted, she should have been wide awake, not catching up on 40 winks. So may bars’ rest! Suddenly the conductor found the place for a snort of derision. “Piano!!!!!” they all fell upon the hapless drummer who had paradiddled his way through a sonata for two banjos.
Laughing so much never did him harm. Suddenly there appeared … another banjo! It vanished as if it were a distant memory. Speaking of Shostakovich, who was the 5-string banjo champion, winning the gold medal in bluegrass, this allowed him access to Nashville “grand Ole Opry” to meet the ghost of Elvis, all shook up like a southern fried chicken in jack Daniel’s fryolator … mmmmm! – Finger Lickin’ good especially with clean fingers. However one problem was they all suddenly developed early symptoms fo the most unusual avian complaint: where wings grow in place of the people’s ears – Dumbo-esque, perhaps. And very difficult to operate, nevertheless they flapped about 20 BPM too long and ascended in a manner obscure and wonderful. Reaching an apogee and discovering oxygen on Mars, our intrepid adventurer then viewed Earth with a large pair of cymbals. “Now?” well that was almost making sense until his dream 3-in-1 kitchen appliance became infested with gooey cake mix: chocolate with cherries was the problem, it crept into the mechanism much more slowly than an airport with floodwaters lapping at the planes that were really only pretending afterall.
An errie silence confronted flight controllers who, screwing around, decided not to show any restraint and break this afternoon’s only remaining taboo on sex! Religion and politics don't touch my funny bone; "perhaps" was the only fitting response to wonderful offer that a time-share telemarketer shoved down my phone line, late one stormy evening. Ibiza top doc was always wondering how his sorry lot lost the plot; lime me, often as not, the doctor would open his pills marked “V”, then flew towards hills hoists, much favoured Down Under, apparently. Where koalas like primordial wildebeest, roam all around the temperate sclerophyll forests where some funny cigarettes are enjoyed.
The little green men really did like their hamsters, especially with tomato and grilled cheese in pitta bread imported especially from Mr. Hurley who had some strange visions recently. Anyhow Viagra pills are only effective when you wear additional Wellington boots on. And remember – never finish a sentence with a period from ancient Roman history: very tedious. “Veni, vidi, vici,” a terrible silence descended upon Obama’s pet donkey, surprising even Michael Palin! The intrepid adventurers from Podunk, Alaska, who were just messing around with some very strange electoral shenanigans, trekked up the road from Damascus, where they met men in drag. “Life ‘em up” screamed a woman all covered with very strong smelling perfume, so overpowering that much holding of noses was demonstrably ineffective against gagging and asphyxiation, nevertheless, cake baking using the perfume prooved useless. Vexingly, another recipe for Victoria’s vanilla vegeburgers, which are popular veterinary vehicle ventilators, and suitable for vertical Venezuelan va-va-va-voom, were deemed tasteless and devoid of sensual pleasures. So what is next? Asked the fat woman eating cakes, looked like nothing he’d ever seen her ample shape surprised everyone who did not realise she was a member of an occult group which is irrelevant…to the casual in thousand years nobody will have grammar and punctuation (here it really lost the plot) loss and division next? Barack Obama? Better not. The thread could turn into politics!
To avoid that no politician please or thank you for not mentioning the taboo topic this story has neatly side-stepped. It’s going to have wonderful implications for another ten minutes of Elysian peace and then everything will come to the point where there is no juice and drink, nor transportation to Diana Krall’s concert in Montreal, Canada. Instead we watched dancing squirrels and and somersaults by this little kitty who is intent on controlling the petroleum industry and consequently the European parliament decided to roll back its dancing squirrel policy and put in for early retirement. The “Marmoset Memorandum” holds important information that, until now, has been held entirely within the framework of decision-making procedures outlined in a voluminous cloud of chiffon which was risible. What aloft (!!), drifting aimlessly in wonder-land, with Alice, but not toto (!) putputput tootootootoo finefinefinefine (attack of the Fibonaccis) the stuttering suddenly ceased. Altogether. Immediately. Tincker-belle and the cohort of faries eyed Wendy maliciously; and those malicious Machiavellian malcontents maintained moistly mad merkins! Mass media masterfully masterminded the malcontents murmuring mockumentary. Merde! It went from “I” to “t”.
In no order were “fries” included thought the Cheshire constabulary, sifting evidence. They were looking totally confused, scratching their heads and whatnot. (Not what.). Now, at the dead quarter Latin a shawody figure skater, slim and cherry red nosed reindeer (with Santa!) they prefigured the Wall Street anxiety that had just sent shivers across the whole world of chocolate futures and marmalade skies…suddenly someone is remembering singing insects noisome as they were the sound echoed through thedark eerie night as it goes. Then, all of the viola section tried to tune the timpani – unfortunately turned out to be the worst example of muddle-headed bungling and fumbling in recent history. To set things perpendicularly to the right course, we must first select who leeps off the rearward quadrant at the violas’ bonfire of vanity which puzzled us so greatly that we gave up. For sometime there occurred a dearth of miniature aardvarks – understandable, given their propinquity and stubborn-ness with regard to moving and re-settling spikes and feathers and letters galore.
All the while, wall the aisle, impressed by word games sorry word play “a la Spooner!” or Lenny Bruce. None cry bluer!! Skunk tears blower … but reworks ankles. Philantropist melancolic ornythorinx, Palin explicity (this thread seriously fell apart here (see page 60 on the thread counter)
Mimi’s word weep but pee wee worships big clarinet adventures that maybe end on a big note, all the trombones playing very much like violas. Only louder and more in tune than the Horns of Friesian Cows. The inhabitants of the woodwind section piped a tune with lemon frosting as a filip of Spanish inclinations and Moorish perturbations of which Albeniz composed a musical masterpiece for violas: to be played by virtuosi from a basement in the tenements of Tenrife (including riffs but the weather dampened every attempt).
So the music became known as a jazz symphony which encompassed musicians performing strange new melodies and harmonies while dressed in funny fancy dress. Chartreuse muu-muus were in abundance at the street party, white bow ribbons for string players and blue for brass; the woodwind wore pink stockings and shiny leather
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