In the winter of the game that is soccer. I am in a desolate wasteland. The cold winds of Siberia lash at my chapped skin and drifts of snow collect at my feet. I am a scavenger looking for something to subsist on. Across the frozen ground a mouse scurries about and shifts direction with the blowing wind. I must trap the rodent and put him in the net. I need something to feed me during the long cold nights after I give up the hunt. No one hunts with me. A collection of chubby seals slip and slide, trying to steer the mouse in my direction. Their flippers are clumsy and they flick snow at me instead of kicking the mouse. I don't mind so much, I brush away the ice and cold to chase the mouse. Wind blows colder now and a whistle sounds. Ferocious polar bears surround me and pick off the seals helping me... one by one..
Visions of sugarplums are dancing in my head, but not the "Grinch Stole Christmas" kind. No, no, these sugarplums are made from recycled coke cans that contorted their way out of my trashcan. Three of them have formed a triangle to make an imitation of Mickey Mouse while regaling me with choruses of "It's a small world". With my emphasis on consuming the caffeine rich beverages my cocoa refuses to talk to me and the oatmeal has gone on strike. Picketing "equal rights for all packaged food regardless of prominent drugs in their mixture". I suggested a "right to be eaten" slogan, and now I'm facing litigation for assault...and sexual harassment. I'm reminded of my trial last year versus some enraged eggs that claimed abuse after I whipped and beat them. They did make a tasty meringue though. I need sleep... and maybe a piece of pie.
Traveling down a wind buffered path with Robert Frost We're on the 'road less traveled' because he got lost. He keeps mumbling about 'miles to go before we sleep'. I am pissed, so I don't make a peep. I should have stayed sober enough to drive. But after beer number six, I'm lucky to be alive. Bob pulled over so I could take a piss. Before I tapped, I realized something was amiss. Robert whipped the horses and was leaving me in the dust. I knew that old bag was no one to trust. Tiptoeing home through the rough streets of Phoenix, what a bummer. Some skanky ho wants to know if I want a hummer. I pick up the pace and start to run. That ho and her mustache don't look like any fun. Devil dogs join the chase and nip at my heels. This is one of those times I wish I had wheels. The dogs are lawnmowers trying to snip me like grass. If I ever catch up with Frost, I'm gonna kick his old ass.
It is all so clear now... I think I must be peering into your world. Everyone I thought was real is just a cardboard cutout. Their heads bob because they are attached to their bodies with a spring and some masking tape. As I enter the realm of visions they roll out a giant sized bubble tape carpet to welcome me in. I have to walk backwards into the room because of the flippers I am wearing on my feet but the natives dont seem to mind. Hordes of screaming ducks toss jelly beans and caramel corn into the air as I pass accepting me as one of their own. I approach a stage made out of a giant cake and climb onto it at the invitation of the king duck. When I get close to the king I notice that he is just a penguin in duck's clothing but I dont feel like exposing him so I just stand by him sinking into the frosting as he gives a speech that I dont understand but apparently was quite complimentary to me. I let him know that I appreciate his compliments and step down from the cake. I am suddenly stricken with hunger and decide I must venture back to my world of "reality" so I flop away leaving a trail of frosting footprints behind me.
Who? Where? Why is that creature crapping on my chamber door? As if from the lands of lore, came the avian reply, "Nevermore". With a lesson from the Raven, they've attacked my safest haven. And in the dark and desolate night, I am shuddering with fright. 'Tis a warning on my chamber door. Tis a warning and nothing more.
With the ominous green glow of the MGM in the background it seems only fitting that we stumble across a young lion well into his prime free from the nurturing care of his mother and looking to establish a pride of his own. We have noticed the lions markings in several places with several different females scratching responses to his call upon nearby trees. Some of these females our young male has come across before but tonight he is alone and heading to the watering hole to meet one of the females he has been considering as part of his new pride.The lion was thinking he had made a good impression but upon returning to his home he bent down to drink some water and after looking at his reflection realized that helooked like some rabid hyenasome white sticky slobber at the corner of his jowls. Smacking himself on the forehead he let's out a disgusted roar of "d'oh!".
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