lets play a game

“Is comely too.”

“needs to get some somewhere (but not here)”

“Gives pause”

“gives paws”

“doesn't know that while she enjoys a good stiff drink while watching her jewish, russian iguana with a blue yarmulke named ivan who loves listening to cheesy vegas show tunes while riding one of those little toy tricycles get evil looks from a parrot across the room who's jealous of ivan's trikey riding abilities because the parrot (let's just call her simone) used to be pink's favorite pet, but now simone is playing second fiddle to the muti-talented jewish iguana
so simone is secretly plotting for ivan to have an "accident" involving a banana peel, a cut brake line for ivan's trikey, some arsenic, a bowling ball, a big double bladed axe, and a yellow marshmallow easter candy peep the plan was hatched while poor simone was subjected to much second hand smoke (can you say contact buzz?) while watching the little yellow geeky rooster with big glasses come up with a diabolically complex and seemingly physically impossible scheme to outwit the slavering weasel and show up foghorn leghorn in the process
but after some time to cool off simone scraps the "accident" plan for a less violent idea - she will come up with a new trick of her own to out-do ivan, the little attention usurping russian, jewish bassturd iguana who may be a class act trikey rider, but is no match for simone who will now hop from one leg to the other while bobbing her head up and down in typical parrot fashion in perfect rhythm while singing,
"BRRROCK, livin la vida loca,
BRAAAAWK livin la vida loca."
because simone knows that pink is actually the president of the ricky martin fan club and is the webmaster for the site www.IdRipOffMyOwnEarsAndEatThemForADateWithRickyMartin.com and hasn't washed her hands in 17 years since she met him at a menudo concert in detroit- though she often denies it and tries to make lame-ass excuses why her hand is so nasty and carries cassette tapes of menudo in her car with labels on them of other bands but simone knows better... and in fact simone is now thinking that maybe instead of performing such demeaning acts as singing and dancing she will just blackmail pink into giving her the attention she deserves which includes weekly dust baths like a chinchilla because even though parrots do not normally need or want to take chinchilla dust baths simone is no ordinary parrot as she was raised in a pet store as the only bird and her cage was kept next to the chinchillas whom she would watch and no matter how much pinky tries to convince simone she's a parrot and not a chinchilla, simone maintains her stubbornness - much like much like the handful of freaks on TT who continue to believe that bush is not only the best choice for president, but also a real live human being despite all scientific evidence that he is in fact a marionette of dick cheney, haliburton et al -unless of course he is real and just likes to have other men's hands up his bum and that is where the similarities between bush and simone end because simone does not like hands up her little parrot bumhole, nor is simone a big fan of texas which really stems from her Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia - fear of long words (my new word of the day. Yes, it’s a real word. Don’t believe me? Google it) - because once a man from texas came into the pet store and wouldn’t shut up - he was quite the sesquipedian fellow and nearly talked poor simone’s ear off and so ever since she hates all things country western do to his big shiny belt buckle and 10 gallon hat which also adds to simone’s hatred of ivan and his trikey tricks cause the cheesy show tunes reminds her of vegas, which reminds her of the desert, which of course, reminds her of tumbleweeds and cacti, which in turn, reminds her of funny plants, which reminds her of funny animals, hence the armadillo comes to mind, and which reminds her of that james michner novel (simone is quite the reader) because of his use of the armadillo in it, and the novel was called - yes, you guess it - Texas - which as previously stated, she hates.”

“miss spelled michener.”

“it's not me, BM”

“starts blushing like a young bride of Frankenstein in a live version of the Rocky Horror Picture Show on the back alley stages in the middle of New York City's finest strip bar, where DeorDX and Snake Eyes hang out looking for innocent little chickadees with big pumpkins who like to make it with oddball hiker wannabes and a smarta$$ itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka-dot bikini wearing polar bear who decides to take it upon himself to start a revolution of dirty, muddy deeds done dirt cheap while his horse, Mr. Edification pontification grabs the closest Tinkerbell and then ditches the sinking holy hand grenaded lifeboat from the Good Ship Lollipop to grab a half-eaten potato sack full of partially cooked Mexican jumping fava bean eating mock rubber rattlesnakes that hiss loudly and menacingly while causing his pineapple glazed jelly donut eating purple hippopotamus -hide-wearing chinchill named Dori to constantly hiccup loudly and unendingly during a mid autumn Chinese moon festival electrical thunderstorm because he does the humpty dance in the middle of his rapping hip hops and jumps from left leg to right leg impatiently while trying to hand hold his weasel wielding rooster comb covered enamel roaster pan in a moment of daft weakness after an all-night ticklefight and Little Red Riding Hood huff & poof-fest in the middle shank portion of the icy cold catfish infested, dark sage colored Lockness Monster filled icy cold glacial lake of the sometimes empty-handed, mostly vacant bellied and feeble-minded arsenic love potion and old Chantilly bridal lace gartered strip mining left-handed pre-drilled bowling-ball wielding German stout beer frothy garden maiden named Simone who now stands doe-eyed and slack-jawed and toothless in utter amazement and in awe of the spooky black-light and blindingly flourescent day-glo orange hookah-smoking dark chili-spiced milk chocolate marshmallow Easter peep who coincidentally looks like a Ben ^ Jerry's chunky monkey peanut-butter and jalepeno apple low-sugar jelly colored groovy love beaded Woodstock Birkenstock sandal-wearing beatnik chunky "phat" chick who was feeling quite high on half-baked hot cayenne, wasabi and powder sugar laced parsley weed and who has just recently arrived locally from a sub-tropical extraterrestrial rain forest filled citrus ugli fruit flavored black and white Russian semi- erupting volcanic ash-covered island in the very middle of the frightfully gigantic wheat straw thatched mud hut with triangular windows in the center of the eye of the huge hurricane force winded Ivan, which, although not frequently well though-of in the merry old technicolor film land of the Wizard of Oz, caused a case of northern Italian flat bread and butternut squash shaped pickle-flavored little boy yamulkes made of cherry tomato red Corvette-shaped colored silnylon strips of multi-faceted Tyvek to fly out, over and quickly land face-first and sticky onto the goose-pimply bald capped heads of the poor primed and hand-plucked puny-feathered grey paisley Macaw parrots who were frantically trying to quickly slather onto their beady eyes and red faces and drink their artificially made raspberry melon ice tea flavored iguana dung tea and hot turkey liver juice out of a slightly flattened stinky cowpie textured and watermelon shaped Mt. St. Helen's glass sippy straw in the absolute middle of the Lime-Away green Jello-colored Circ de Soleil circus rings which were slightly malicious and curiously deformed due to a malnourished, bizarre and freaky Michael Jackson lover with Liz Taylor's colored purple eyed Oompa Loompa drunken midget singing a half-step off-key to creepy Liza Minelli broadway show tunes with a insulating foam-rubber double stick taped baby dune buggy bumper shaped pitchfork stuck in the juicy back of his somewhat bloody tundra duff filled blueberry bushes, thus causing a half-swallowed and half-baked Grey Goose vodka-drinking fast-talking rodeo clown to immediately, efficiently and deftly grab a good rock hard, stiff, well-oiled and shiny polished leather tricycle seat pad and handle and ride like a bi-polar homicidal schizophrenic maniac on Prozac and weight-lifting steroids down the 90 mile-an-hour windswept South Eastern coast swampy alligator infested marshes of the Florida Keys with a Royal Crown bluebird colored wrapping paper and pre-used silver duct tape wrapped aluminum soda can of explosive soap leaf confetti and Chilly Willy Silly String and Mr. Clean Silly Putty attached to his ruptured spleen which was contained in a rucksack of Southern fried chicken feet with bloody buffalo wings and smelly fish heads which sometimes would start to wail incessantly like a lion with a thorny paw and obnoxiously yodel when they felt like they absolutely needed some 190 proof alcoholic Twinkie libations in a crumpled up Barbie pink Dixie cup to immediately quench their toxic cheese-pouf colored orange Tang dyed pork tongues which were coated in 2-month-old stale Canadian back-bacon grease flavored mysterious magical Harry Potter's Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans which held mystical mind-bending portabella mushrooms from the Orc-infested painted plywood and silicone breast-coated life-sized backlot harlequins dancing in an imaginary forest of Fangorn in the Toy land of Silent BOB's dude ranch for the mentally incompetant and completely insane song-eating, over-ripe banana peel-colored rubber pickaxe swinging lumberjacks names Pat who like wearing large women's thong lingerie from Victoria's Secret© because it is more in tune with their vibrating thingies and stinky Pepe Le Pew's lover cat side of their inane non-existen manliness versus the Dolly Parton natural wig beauty of their Size 13 stilletto heels that wobble like Weebles when they do the cat walk and cause massive amounts of hysterical blindness within the unwashed heathen masses of the newbie day hikers on the Ruffle ridges of the Appalachian Trail during the gently veiled sunlight of the full autumn moon pies in the middle of the Harvest Festival Moose dropping mud-slinging contest in the middle of Northern Exposures' Talkeetna, Alaska's Bohenmian pizza crusted magpie eating contest sponsored by the good old Po' folks at the freelance nekkid furniture store in Nashville's Grand Ol' Opry's auditiorium of Ripley's wax museum, where the untamed Bush-whacker decided to find a polling place to finally get rid of the guy who called himself "Mr. President", but who couldn't admit that he had never properly learned how to say, let alone play with "Nuclear" (not "Nuke-ular") weopons....”

“OFF: Doh! not quick enough-- was meant for Sac... BTW... 1023 words... :-)

^ looking for good words to expand the ever-expanding run-on sentence”

“Copped and pasted”

“Off: ah, but i add words WITHIN the copied & pasted parts, not just to the beginning & end... (if you don't believe me, just read through each time... :-)
Just spell-checked & grammar checked it.. according to Word, it's an okay sentence (just shows what a computer knows.)

LOL!!!

^ wants to be cuffed by a cop”

“is keeping it real



i stopped trying to keep it one sentence a long time ago.”

“Is still doggin' this thread”

“is still on my doggies”

“went back and fixed some puncuation to make his one sentence again”

“Is a punk-chew-a-tor”

“Punk chew ate her”

“called me a punk???”

“No, but I'll call you a girl if ya like............(call girl, get it?)”

“a girl??? that's it.
you're in my bag now, buddy.”

“Ok, Ok, I'll call you a goat if that makes ya happy.”

“smells like a goat”

“is now up to 1284 words... (and has fixed some spelling issues”

“Clutches at herself...”

“"marks" himself on a daily basis”

“and another bites the dust.


”

“Time in!

….dances with Wolves during the beginning of a Dixie Chicks concert in the middle of the Iowa State Fairgrounds where the hamster and pig races are set to begin in an hour before sunset on the dawn of the new tomorrow when a young MarkO wanders in and causes him to start blushing three shades of radish red and pants furiously like a virginal young horny teen-aged bride of Mel Brooks’ Frankenstein in a live from New York version of the Rocky Horror Picture Show on the back of the Kirsty Alley has-been stages in the middle of Manhattan in New York City's finest transvestite strip juice bar, where hungry for an eyeful, DeorDX and Snake Eyes hang out looking for innocent Mary had a little lamb bimbo chickadees with big bodacious pumpkin ta-tas who like to make it with nerdy oddball hiker-biker babe wannabes and a smarta$$ itsy bitsy teeny weenie yellow polka-dot bikini wearing polar bear who decides to take it upon himself to start a Hooters girls revolution of dirty, muddy dastardly deeds done dirt poor and cheap while his well-brushed horse, Mr. Edification pontification grabs the closest Tiki drinking Tinkerbelle and then ditches the sinking holy hand grenade shot-blasted party lifeboat from the Good Ship Lollipop to grab a half-eaten potato chip snack sack full of partially cooked well-marinated Mexican jumping fava bean hummus-eating mock rubber bellied rattlesnakes that hiss loudly and menacingly while causing his pineapple-upside-down-cake flavored glazed jelly donut-eating purple hippopotamus-hide-wearing chinchilla named Dori to constantly cough and hiccup loudly and unendingly during a mid autumn Chinese moon festival fun run through puddles of standing water which are stimulated by electrical thunderstorm vibrations because he does the humpty dance in the middle of his rapping hip hops and jumps from left wooden leg to right peg-leg impatiently while trying to hand hold his wet weasel wielding rooster comb covered enamel beef roaster pan in a moment of daft feelings of weakness after an all-night pickle tickle fight and a Little Red Riding Hood suck, blow, huff & poof-fest in the middle shank portion of the icy cold whisker-less catfish infested, dark sagebrush colored Lochness Monster filled icy cold creamy glacial silt-filled lake of the sometimes empty-handed, mostly vacant pot bellied porkers and feeble-minded hypnotic arsenic love potion and old Chantilly bridal lace-up merry-widow gartered strip mining, left-handed, pre-drilled bowling-ball wielding German stout beer frothy garden hand maiden in a basket named Simone who now quietls stands patiently doe-eyed and slack-jawed and toothless in utter amazement and shock and in awe of the spooky black-light felt painting and blindingly fluorescent day-glo orange hookah-smoking dark chipotle chili-spiced milk chocolate flavored marshmallow Easter peep who coincidentally looks like a Ben & Jerry's chunky monkey, low carb peanut-butter and jalapeño apple low-sugar jelly colored groovy love beaded Woodstock beanie and Birkenstock sandal-wearing beatnik chunky "phat" chick who was feeling quite self-satisfied and high on half-baked hot cayenne, wasabi and powder sugar laced parsley weed brownies and who has just recently arrived locally from a sometimes sub-arctic and sometimes sub-tropical extraterrestrial tree-frog infested rain forest filled with citrus ugli fruit flavored black and white Russian semi-erupting volcanic ash-covered seismic island in the very middle of the low country where gnomes are often heard, but not seen because of the frightfully gigantic wheat straw thatched mud hut with triangular-shaped sugar-coated windows in the center of the evil eye of the huge hurricane force winded Ivan, which, although not frequently well thought-of in the merry old Technicolor film fantasy land of the Wizard of Oz, caused a case of northern Italian flat bread and butternut squash shaped pickle-flavored little boy sized yarmulkes made of cherry tomato seed-colored red Corvette-shaped, hand-colored silnylon strips of multi-faceted Tyvek to fly out, over and quickly land best face-first and sticky like gum onto the goose-pimply bald capped shaved heads of the poor primed and hand-plucked puny-feathered grey paisley Macaw parrots who were frantically trying to quickly slather onto their beady little ferret eyes and red faces and drink their artificially made raspberry watermelon iced non-caffeinated tea flavored iguana dung tea and hot and bothered turkey liver juice out of a slightly flattened, much trampled, stinky cow pie textured and watermelon shaped Mt. St. Helen's glass sippy straw in the absolute left of middle of the Lime-Away green Jello-colored Circ de Soleil circus rings which were slightly malicious and curiously deformed due to a malnourished, bizarre and freaky Michael Jackson Thriller-lover with a Liz Taylor colored purple eyed Oompa Loompa drunken midget singing a half-step off-key to morbid and creepy Liza Minnelli Broadway show tunes with a insulating foam-rubber banded double-stick taped baby dune buggy bumper shaped pitchfork stuck in the juicy back end of his somewhat bloody tundra duff filled blueberry bushes, thus causing a half-swallowed and half-baked Grey Goose vodka-drinking fast-talking rodeo clown to immediately, efficiently and deftly grab a good rock hard, stiff, well-oiled and shiny polished leather tricycle seat pad and handle and ride like a bi-polar homicidal schizophrenic maniac on Prozac and weight-lifting steroids down the 90 mile-an-hour windswept South Eastern coast swampy alligator infested marshes of the Florida Keys with a Royal Crown bluebird colored wrapping paper and pre-used silver duct tape wrapped aluminum soda can full of explosive lavendar soap leaf bath tub confetti and Chilly Willy ice cream textured Silly String and Mr. Clean squeaky clean Silly Putty attached to his now-ruptured spleen which was contained in an ultra-light rucksack tent of sanitized Southern fried chicken feet with bloody good and spicy buffalo wings and smelly fish heads which sometimes would start to wail like a poopy-diapered baby and incessantly like a wimpy lion with a thorny paw and obnoxiously yodel when they felt like they absolutely needed some 190 proof alcoholic Twinkie filled libations in a crumpled up Barbie pink disposable Dixie cup to immediately fulfill and quench their toxic cheese-pouf colored orange Tang dyed pork tongues which were coated in 2-month-old stale Canadian back-bacon grease flavored mysterious magical Harry Potter's Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans which held mystical mind-bending portabella shaped morel mushrooms from the Orc-infested painted grade 2 plywood and silicone breast-coated life-sized backlit harlequins dancing in an imaginary forest of Fangorn in the Toy land of Silent BOB's dude ranch for the mentally incompetent and completely insane song-eating, over-ripe banana peel-colored rubber mallet and plastic pickaxe swinging lumberjacks named Pat who like wearing large women's thong lingerie from Victoria's Secret because it is more in tune with their vibrating thingies and stinky Pepe Le Pew's lover #&%!$ cat side of their inane non-existent manliness versus the Dolly Parton natural wig beauty of their Size 13 stiletto heels that wobble like Weebles when they are too sexy to do the cat walk and cause massive amounts of hysterical blindness within the unwashed heathen masses of the newbie day hikers on the Ruffle ridges of the Appalachian Trail during the gently veiled sunlight of the full autumn moon pies in the middle of the Golden Harvest Festival’s annual Moose dropping, turd-flinging and mud-slinging contest in the middle of Northern Exposures' Talkeetna, Alaska's Bohemian pizza crusted magpie eating burping contest sponsored by the good old Po' folks at the freelance nekkid furniture store in the basement of Nashville's Grand Ol' Opry's original auditorium filled with dummies of Ripley's wax museum, where the untamed Bush-whacker decided to find an unoccupied polling place to finally get rid of the idiot guy who called himself "Mr. President", but who couldn't admit to himself that he had never properly learned how to say, let alone play with "Nuclear" (not "Nuke-ular") weapons of bass construction in the Land of Misfit toys and the Dukes of Hazzard….”

“wow. ^ has way too much time on her hands.”

“Is a pink skid-mark”

“^ was beaten by me”

“beats beasts”

“could do it if she tried.”

“Gots duh evil eye .....hoohoohahahahahaa”

“is behind on the pink game due to sac-filling.”

“Scorchness, that is”

“Off - Oops, meant for scorch....
:-)

SacO 's a pretty good 2nd...”

“wow, that was a pack of outta order posts!”

“is maybe 2nd only due to time conflicting sac-filling duties”

“has a great sense of humor (and touche on Bush)”

“loves the sac game, whatever that is.”

“is jealous of humor and game”

“smells like a beast”

“[my]”

“> has no evil eye”

“needs a [root] beer”

“Makes her own bubbles in the bathtub.”

“^ makes his own bubbles in his underpants.”

“burns the boy bubbles”

“Would get lots of loose bills stuffed in her underpants if she spanks Scorch.”

“^ hasn't had action in a while”