The doctor told me the swelling would soon subside. This made me happy. I hate swellings. Especially in my nose. Once my nose swelled up to the size of the moon. Literally. I was upstairs in the attic when my schnoz grew to the size of a lunar satellite. It crushed all of Prince Edward Island and displaced half of the Atlantic Ocean. People in Pakistan died.
Yes, having a nose the size of the moon is not good. For that matter, having a foot that is the size of a football stadium is also not good. That is what...
Mr. Sippee is the new owner of the Turtle House. Mac and I met him on Tuesday. There he was, sitting on the roof, waving to the swans. We went up, cause Mac had his own ladder. "Hi kids," says Mr. Sippee. Then he jumped off the roof. Down he fell. One storey. Two storeys. Three. Crash into a pile of broken marble.
Up gets Mr. Sippee. His head is cut in half and blood is dripping from his ears. But no matter. Out he pulls a needle and thread and gol durn but he sews his head right back...
They were listening to Bach while they sculpted windmills out of Play-doh. The Play-doh was blue. Aunt Gertrude would only allow blue Play-doh in the chalet. It had been that way since the accident.
Aunt Gertrude was 78 years old and she had no arms or legs. She had cut them off in 1983 as a display of devotion to Reggie, her pet octopus. Reggie could have cared less. I remember my Aunt as she wielded the chainsaw, slicing off her limbs, bathing everything in warm red gore. Reggie could care less. He just emitted some ink. Even when Aunt...
Millions spent on public health are inflationary. This is why we should kill people when they're born. That's right. When a baby is born, you flip a coin. If it comes up heads, kill it. That's what they do in China, only they don't flip a coin. They say if the baby has a vagina, kill it.
And this is a little creepy for a six minute story, isn't it? I got the first line by opening a Kurt Vonnegut book to a random page and writing down the first line I saw. Everything flows from there.
The word flow...
The waitress came up and said "Hey, want corn flakes?"
"No," says I. I am busy reading my book, which is about masking tape.
But the waitress is having none of it. "I made these corn flakes myself," she says.
"Okay," says I. "Give me some corn flakes."
She gives them to me. They are red, not orange, but I eat 'em anyway. "Yuck," says I. "These don't taste like corn flakes at all."
"They're not," she says. "They're scabs I picked off my elbow."
She shows me her elbow, which is bleeding lots. All kinds of blood is pouring...
Poor Kait. She has a knee brace. That sucks. How ever will she compete in the Canadian KICK GUYS IN THE NADS CHAMPIONSHIP? I dunno. Kait's awesome at kicking guys in the nads. That's cause she meets lots of arseholes. They come up to her and say: "Hey, want to smell my Cheeto breath?" Then BAM!!! A knee in the nads courtesy of Miss Kait.
Yessir, Miss Kait's won the championship three years in a row. Kait McGee, national nad kneeing champ. So when she broke her knee last week opening that can of Ravioli, all of us were just...
Marvin knew that he had to return the salad dressing. Last night, it started screaming at him. "BRING ME DWARVES!" it yelled. Strange, since as far as Marvin knew, salad dressing does not have vocal cords.
So he put the salad dressing in a baggie and threw it in the back of his backpack. He could hear the salad dressing yelling. "I HATE THE DARK AND I HATE THE WARMTH!!! THIS IS WORSE THAN THE FRIDGE! THAT WAS DARK BUT AT LEAST IT WAS COLD!!!"
Down the stairs Marvin ran. As he pushed his way out the door, he ran...