March 2009

Ever see a homeschool football game?

I play for the Rampaging Chickens.
We ain’t so good.

Our quarterback won’t make eye contact.
Most of us play piano better than pass the ball,
and the cheerleader’s skirts barely clear their ankles.
rampaging chicken (<play me)
Our name totally gives away our playbook–
We play an offensive game, consisting of huddling together and taunting the other team.
After the snap, we scatter, staring intently at the ground. On occasion, someone catches the ball; then it’s a mad dash for the end zone.

Amazingly, we are leading the league! beating our rivals, the Gesticulating Limpets.

Go Chickens!

b_and_e (<play me)

I am a compulsive B and E artist… It usually leads to murder.
I learned from the hand of my mother. She taught me at the tender age of seven,
and by eleven, I was doing the job alone. Ocassionally, I’d bring her my results.

At times I managed to quell my urges. When I was 15, I quit cold turkey;
I didn’t hardly miss the lifestyle. But by college, I had returned to my old ways.

Now, I limit myself to once a week. Old age slows a body down.

Today is going to be one of them days.

this one was a killer ~ the prompts included: lamabada, coal, bail, wrapping paper and dragon burger.

the reults were hysterical! check out other stories at http://www.podcasting.isfullofcrap.com

(bummer, file is too big. if you want to hear it, drop me a line)

No bail, Jingle. 11 months hard labor at the Kringle Coal Mines.
With all that is going on in the world, I’m gonna need more stockpiles for next year.
From now on, when I say jump, you ask “how high”.
When I say dance, you’re gonna lambada like Carmen Miranda.
And when I ask for a dragon burger, you better not bring me reindeer sausage.

You should have thought twice about sponsoring Christo on his wrapping paper installation  at the North Pole. I find his art so bulgar.
You’re about to learn: No one messes with the Jolly Fat Man.