Seven words at a time story starring LJ
Lumberjim laughed. He stood naked at the
gas station crapper wishing for shoes. "Sorry
about the mess. I'll get a towel."
"No no no no! Please don't!" said
Clodfobble, Brianna, SundaeGirl, Cicero, DucksNuts, jinx and
the janitor.We'll mop it up. "Gag!"
Jinx commented, "we dint have no corn?",
But they secretly loved it, and wanted
more...but this time they wanted it
with sweet, sweet, chocolate chilli pie. If
only for the mouth watering aroma, and
percolative faculties inherent in the milieu of
the zyxst apricot to fall from the
mouth of the Venezuelan coat check girl
Jinx had brought home for his birthday.
"Mouthing an apricot," he thought. "That means
the same thing as what that man
behind the gas station had promised to
do to him for a few dollars.
I'll give you gas, wait here while
I get the camera and goat for
you and your friend. Who gets the
leftover apricot?" the man had asked. Lumberjim
slowly raised his hand, and loudly said -
"I know someone who swallows those whole!"
He then timidly looked over to his
delicious and darling, yet often quite demanding
sidekick Jinx, who was obviously busy with
a box of nectarines. "These are even
plumper than the ones you smuggled in
, when we last came, in your pants.
Remember I washed your pants that night?"
Lumberjim smiled, fondly recalling the moment when
Jinx said, "I love these nuts, they're
very kiwi fruit like...firm, fuzzy and
green inside? That's when it all began
to go horribly, horribly wrong. Jinx wondered
"what the? I don't remember this third
baseman. He must have been traded for
a tree frog and half an apple
or some other fruit that could fit
with the fall color scheme she had
for the plethora of rashes he often
found in his nether regions when he
traveled down south to those nether regions.
The orchards were always so bright! Just
remember to bring the lotion to soothe
that plethora of rashes which constantly and
painfully ravages your ass crack. You have...
two types of lotion to choose from:
lavender jasmine mint or pine spearmint bubblegum.
People say the former is more soothing,
if you're into that sort of thing.
"That most definitely is my bag baby."
Said Austin Powers, stepping out from behind
Lumberjim and wiping off his hands. He
had a Tshirt on that said: SteveDallas
Is A Man, Baby! So very fashionable.
Suddenly he froze in place with his
cold hands down his pants, and shouted
OH MY GOD! Where'd that come from?
His long-lost childhood teddy bear, Pokey,
was grasped in the clutches of a
large green, red and yellow man eating
cellery. cellery?!? WTF? who would have thought
that celery came in red. Its veins
appeared bulbous and throbbing, just as a
piece of rhubarb would have. Pokey was
,of course, logically named after the famous
crack whore who lived nearby. Her nickname
was Idaho Pokey the roughest, toughest, orneryest,
transvestite, transsexual, transmission mechanic this side of
normal. So naturally, the teddy bear was
transported to Transvaal, to be transitioned by
seven metrosexual monks high on hallucinogenic sage
and onion stuffing. Meanwhile, Carl's favourite shirt
, that gloriously ribbed-for-your-pleasure shirt,
was in the dryer - WTF!? - it's rubber!!
It fit loosely, exactly like a noose
,Lee.
On the very next morning, Anton
the strong, young, strapping neighbor decided to
take up those crochet lessons that he
thought were crotch lessons, as he liked
to lick a lot o' puss, but
the SPCA has him on a watch
thankfully. The crochet teacher, Wolf, liked to
discipline students with her Glock pistol. Unfortunately
The barrel of the Glock pistol was
blocked with ear wax, which Lumberjim was
saving to falsify a scientific study of
the half life of the isotope found
when dealing with his rash which was
years ago. Scientifically speaking, however, the balls
of his feet stink like cabbage that
have been partially digested then vomited up.
Nobody is certain why this is so.
but if we can get some funding
we can give you any answer you
prefer. Meanwhile, back at the bat cave
Commissioner Gordon was trying on a tutu
which LJ eyed covetously. But Jinx wouldn't
pose in without first standing in the
"Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker and
Tits" George Carlin memorial bathtub. For once
she really put her foot in it
, she'd discover that the tutu didn't fit.
Life as a self-actualizing self-learner
doesn't bode well for LJ's new venture
capital effort, hookers on hiatus, a new
Cirque du Soleil touring performance group. So
Jinx should get prepared for a spangly
phallus from LJ, as he auditions the
Vietnamese midget juggling troop. We all know
how much jinx hates spangles, so this
spangly wang may result in bitter disappointment.
As all this was happening, far away
As all this was happening, far away
a butterfly flaps its wings causing a
cat to spot it and pounce at
it, barely missing; but the force of
the cat's weight, as it pulled up
toppled a vial of mercury releasing the
wrath of the dreaded boo boys from
the South Bronx, initiating the Bronx Cheer
but this show is not fooling anyone.
It's time we got started on the
soup course. Mock turtle was Jinx's favourite
served with a splash of turtle gusto
or should that be gumbo? LJ stroked
his ego yet again with more lecherous
grunts than strictly necessary given his small
amount of skin left in the little
place next to the left side of
that quaint little taint that just ain't
right, you know? LJ stroked with a
practised hand. In a teeny weeny way,
On beany weeny day, he would say
"Jinx, you should wear your teeny weeny
sunglasses to the BBQ. Remember what happened
when you wore those big old Elton
John glasses? You didn't see the hot
squirt of stickiness headed straight towards your
forehead,where upon impact a group of
Maori warriors went break dancing on your
lap and then ordered some music to