Bloop Is The Word

Some people need a word for the day to make the radio sauces slide briskly from under the toilet canopy. Well in my professional opinion, “bird” is not the word. No, rather the word for today (or any other day) is “bloop.” Sometimes it’s used as an exclamation, as in the case of dropping something in the water. An example: remember that one time I was with Uncle Bribblet on the dock at Zooper’s Pond? He handed me this awesome looking smellphone he just bought and went up to the house to get seconds on Aunt Meebee’s refried cabbage sticks. When he came back, I had some bad news for him: “Sorry… I had your new iPhone 27 held tightly in my grubby little mitts, but as I was leaning over the dock I was distracted by the freshwater hexagonal stickfish and BLOOP!! into the brackish water it went. I was able to get it out and I tried to dry it off in the fire, but it started to fizz and make weird popping noises.”

Uncle Bribblet was not amused.

Because I enjoy learning more about words and other household temperature measuring cups, I decided to scan the interwebs for any additional applications of the word “bloop.” Lo and behold, there was one I had never heard of before. According to Wikipedia, “Bloop was an ultra-low-frequency, high amplitude underwater sound detected by the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) in 1997.” Initially it was thought to have originated from a marine animal, but it was later determined to be sounds from glacial movement or by “seabed gouging by ice.” Well now that’s just plain fascinating!! If only I was there to enjoy the bloopening!! Perhaps I could have gotten an autograph from one of the underwater sound detection technician people persons!! Or not!!

Bloop also appears in baseball, when a batter smacks a ball just beyond the infield. And then there are bloopers in film or other video media in which mistakes are made and are presented to audiences for the humor of it all. And then there’s the use of bloop to describe a noise made by an electronic device. So yes, goys and birls, I’m stealing all these inflammable regressions from the webbernet dictionary website definition place things.

Being the drebnerflooted person I am, I have sometimes been known to utter a short, high-pitched, low volume “bloop!!” for no apparent reason. This serves no other purpose than sheer amusement for me and anyone nearby who happens to hear it. I’ve also been known to utter other inconomulous strebulations like “flarf!!” or “mozzbop!!” and perhaps even “hookonk!!” just to perplex my grandsons and any other young or otherwise height-challenged lifeforms that happen to be within earshot. Of course, few of the “words” you just read are real; but hey, if you can’t have fun langling manguage, I mean, why squish the Twinkies on the sidewalk? Right??

Of course it is!!

Lastly, but not in the least indivisible, is the (not very) famous poem that includes the bloop as a sound made from mergling.

Well there you go. These days, there are many things we could cry about, but sometimes it’s important to laugh with very big harroo while you have a big mouthful of macaroni and cheese. I hope you find a word for your day, whether it is “bird,” or “bloop,” or even something highly technical like “wozzpoffle.” In the meantime, may your nostrils be free of burrowing insects, and may your garments be forever stain resistant.

Peace, Love, and Blissful Antigens,

Hyram C. Gilmore

On the other hand, you have Betty Boop and Grampy…

Important Notice: Upcoming Inspections

Note:  This notice has been circulated to everyone who has pockets, pocket books, mailboxes, or ice in their driveway.  Please read carefully and follow the instructions.

My Fellow Colleagues,

In these uncertain economic times we must strive to defeat the competition both before and after they are finished watching their favorite movies and / or cooking programs. Therefore, it is with great implosion that I urge all of you to apply an exorbitant amount of effort toward our long discontinued standard of excellence.

In striving toward the spirit of this year’s successful yet spiritually degrading development plan, we are rolling out what we believe is an innovative approach to corporate indecency with our new motto: Strength Through Costly Mistakes, or STCM.

To facilitate Phase 1 of this plan, Zelden Bilgehammer of Quality Infusions, Inc. will be arriving soon to inspect the cambernackles. Please ensure that all edible Click Wrapper standards are well concealed and thoroughly hyphenated before Zelden’s infestation.  As a reminder, the entire Click Line will be down for maintenance during this inspection; since all the Snooglebockers are on their vacation to Jupiter to see the flying cows.  I hope they have a great time!!  I can smell the rancid cows from here!!  Let’s just hope they don’t bring back any rottage cheese.  That stuff is nasty, am I right??

But I digress…

During this exercise, please note that cambernackles will heretofore be inspected on the 3rd Tuesday of each week, twice monthly, with liberty and justice for all. This information may be shared freely with herds of wild businessmen, or any and all individuals whose names rhyme with “lumberjack,” as they would appear when divided by the pertinent day of the month.

For example: on the 1st Tuesday of 2022, the week begins with the letter R. It follows then, that you may share this with people who have names like:

Rudence Cumberjack

Rumby Cambersnorck

Royven Snanderjunk

And of course Roopy Wofflenick.

Note that the inverse modification standard never applies. None of these stick flingers are employed at this time, so sharing the inflammation can only enhance our deprivation protocol.

If you have any questions regarding this modulation, please insert two nickles and eleven dimes. I’d very much like you to tell me about the case you’re working on.  After all, your toaster is probably orange with chrome crumb fenders.  The chicken tenders have escaped the restaurant and are now stealing cars.

Thank you in advance for your cooperation in this urgent flea popping contest.

Sincerely,

Norvis Pimpleburger
Chief Inspection Officer
Feline Antler Fabrication Dept.

“If you want something done, don’t remove the cat’s antlers.” – Milton Wildpockets

——————————————————————–

On the other hand, we could just make with the jumpin’ jive and swing it!!

An Open Letter To All Bug Snorters

Hello Darling Friends and Zimplers,

Just a note to tell you that I’ve learned how to eat what snakes don’t like. Please, all of you, before it’s too late: change your weevils soon or your dentifrice will be subject to humiliation. You’ve always known what eggs are, so get with the program! OK, maybe you didn’t always know what eggplants are. But the second you found out, I’ll bet you enjoyed their rich, chewy centers.

Twelve times this year I’ve sanctioned your optic nerves. Now it’s time for YOU to do something for ME: bring “the stuff” to the next curbside travel aroma infestation. Do this for me in remembrance of the good old days, when men were mere clods of soil and women were tender, loving, delightful bags of chocolate crème oatmeal.

Clams have been telling me the best doggone stories I’ve ever ignored during the past few milliseconds. I often am astonished at their true talent and willingness to stack coloring books to the ceiling. If only they would cease applying the maraschino cherries to all those taffy-sucking, dust-gathering, elegant and kind bovine conversation artists. How pleasantly they yell to my cats while I’m sleeping: “HEY!!  GO USE YOUR CLAWS ON THE HUMANS! IT’S FUN WHEN THEY WAKE UP QUICKLY!!”

As I wake up each morning with cat ouch on my freckles, I’m beginning to understand why God made dump trucks.  It’s the noodle thing you know.  People fling noodles in the streets as a sign of protest during times of tardy laxative infusions.  When the doody is late, the people are… well… noodle flingers.  Some floodle ningers are just plain angry, and other fling noodlers are having the best time of their lives.  Why anyone would shake up a bottle of Pepsi and hand it to the “birthday boy” is beyond my wildest pile of tent caterpillars.  I’ve seen the look on “birthday boy’s” face as the brown foam covers his favorite television clicking carpet.  It’s just one of those moments when you just gotta have a pair of pineapples to stuff in the pencil sharpener.  So as you can see, the noodle trucks were made to pick up all the dump flingers.  Is that a remarkable paint remover or what??

PLEASE:  Step awaaay from the rhinestones.  We will glue them to your armpits later, after you’ve washed down those two bags of Camel Chow with radio juice.  Don’t worry about all the precipitation, Camel Chow is made to last even in the worst banana storms.  After all, Uncle Clogpipe will certainly let you know when it’s time to rotate the fossil camera.  Remember, always duck when the banana storm begins, or you’ll be the first one on your block to own a 12% rayon staple gun.  I’ve seen this happen at least – 0.5 times, maybe even less.  Don’t try to argue with me on this one, alright?

Wumba, wumba, wumba goes the tire with the small baseball bat inside for extra bad handling on those tight turns and special goat races.  Carefully pick your friends, for if you are picking your friends carefully, then you’ll never have to worry about picking your friend’s… um…. lint globs.  You thought I was gonna say nose, didn’t you?  Ha, ha ha…  it’s snot something I wood say hear.  I mean, you can pick your friends and you can pick your knows, but you can’t wipe your friend’s boogies off behind the sofa.  Sew there!  Eye didn’t say it!!  Ha ha on you!!!

All right then.  You better not read this anymore.  You may find yourself being lost within your shelf, and then there will be no finding of anything.  Who needs surround sound anyway??  I’ll tell you who:  ME.  I’m gonna tell someone to have it for me so I may enjoy it viscerally.  Or perhaps vivaciously.  Possibly even vertically.  My Belt is Yellow.

Horizontally Yours,

Krayben Fizztoggle

a.k.a. “Wally Wartwonder”

And now we must enjoy the delightful iridescent angle worm delight.

Please Praznify The Churblazooken

Dear Appletoes,

This letter is to remind you that both you and your dog owe me 16 gravy molecules from that bet we made last Hamperday. I’m not going to be lenient with you any longer; I am very soon going to splash Bloopen Sauce onto your Spoken Lint Collection. Do you really believe you can trust Stick Lizards to vonculate your patchnicorns? Well of course you can. That is why I love you and your pet sawhorse so doggoned much.

Oh my, can you remember when everyone in Pudding County could actually count to 14? That was the coolest time of my 3 week Toaster Party; especially when you shouted “who dumped out the electric chicken hammers??!!” during the Roof Rodeo Rocket Ranchers celebration. Very surprised young children performed the amazing “Backward Conga Dance” shortly after the marbles were ejected from that lawn ornament dispenser we installed on Picklestick Boulevard.

Oh my GOD!! This chair is farting!! Oh wait… I had receipts for dinner again. They always make my socks explode. No rudeness intended, but when I write nonsense while sitting in a fart chair there can be one or two candles that disagree with my liverwurst. But really now, would you please stop biting that poor spidersquirrel’s flyswatter every time the batteries on the remote control say “Karflebock?”

As I write this letter to you I’m becoming increasingly aware of just how unaware your awareness has become without you even being aware of it. For example, you know full well that I have always enjoyed the rich, full tone quality of a telephone roasting in the oven. In fact, just the other day, Difnert, Mopenarch, and Joojoofloat were over to the house the day after yesterday and we had a great time dissecting all the training wheels. So obviously both boys and girls can enjoy something without knowing something unnecessary; like who a person changes into when they have the wrong kind of cereal for their 3:45 snack (sometimes I turn into a tuba).

So my dear friend, my eyes are in great moisture from laughing my elbows off as I compose this heartfelt, yet indignant letter to you and all your Monkey Headed Friends Who Have Absolutely No Idea How To Shave A Viking’s Volume Control while the band plays simply delicious renditions of “I Never Had A Salad,” and oh my gosh, how about that wonderful smash hit “You Shouldn’t Choke That Speaker Cabinet So Loudly” while the Eagles and the Buzzards and the Loons all marvel at their complete Lack Of Interest in writing; either in a normal way or by abusing their English with a terribly too long run-on sentence.

Thank you for sniffing only the red printer cartridges. I’m sure you’ll be proud of yourself someday; and until then you can just keep trying to play disc golf with oversized chocolate chip railroad ties.

Peace, Love, and Haberdashery,

Hyram

P.S.:  If nonsense never existed, these guys would never have become famous.

An Open Letter to Noodletoss Anklebracelet

An Open Letter to Noodletoss Anklebracelet

All Others May Read But Do Not Sing The Chorus Out Loud.

(It frightens the radish grabbers.)

Dear Noodlestomp,

The Flooper Beetles keep eating the insides of my safety shoes. I’ll need at least 3 brand new, totally used hammers to eradicate them softly while donuts fly south for Spring. If no tapeworm dust is inhaled, apply bologna to both armpits before walking to the bathroom. When you’ve finally come to the conclusion that ice cream cannot be injected into the elbows to increase flexibility, you’ll find it completely obvious that not only does hair find its way into every part of your automatic transmission, it also can insulate the tree beepers; and this of course is only useful when the wind is multicolored with a pleasantly indignant odor that is often found to be not unlike cottage cheese that has been allowed to rest on the top of a night light during Barn Knocking Day in eastern Slooponia.

Perhaps you never heard that I’m collecting $$ for anyone who wants to attend The Great Flatulence Festival. Beans and boiled eggs are served round the clock to all participants; who of course wear the traditional festival garb of off-white Party See Pants. When the Festival commences, all the Party See Pants participants part ways in a most disorderly manner and select their favorite “brooping corner” so they can perform their musical Stink-O-Rama. Their amusing Farty Party ways will delight the crowds into extinction; and the Party See Pants of the participants will have the familiar tan but irregularly elliptical patterns where the noxious fumes exit the stinkulus holysmokeabus apertures. Additional medical terminology is often used to grade the performances; and of course the winner is permitted to leave before someone strikes a match to ignite the celebratory Kaka-Kaboom.

Tickets are $.27 each but nose plugs are $379.17 per unused pair. Used plugs are not for sale but may often be bartered for with enticements of extra Boiled Egg Bean Surprise available at the condescension stand.

In closing I’d like to demand that you remember about all that creamy slinky dust oozing from the back of my phone today. Not sure why today should be any different than the time none of us celebrated Webmiggle Day while wearing oversized raincoats.

Thank you again for not shrieking while I opened that 12 year old can of smoked caterpillar toes. You must admit they were delicious with those deep fried dust crackers!

Eat Well And Cause Mischief,

Milbert R. Wofflenock

Speaking of nonsense, these gentlemen were masters…

The Inner Peace Police

Hello My Friends,

I’m writing to tell you that my fingers are broken and can no longer type anything that requires typing. You may well ask, “howma na heck are you broken fingers? Anyhow?” Then again, you may not ask that.

Please do NOT ask that.

The reason my fingers are broken is because they are not broken at all, merely sleeping in a typing trance that occurs each week during the Morshnayvian Lunar Cycle. Previously I was riding a Pepto Dismal Cycle, but that one only had 14 wheels so I switched back to the Bread Flavored Hamper Cycle. It coasts down hills really well, but the brakes are made of chalk dust; and that of course cannot be used in soups any longer.

Please refer to your Fronkle’s Universal Dictionary for a new and soil proof container for your unwanted dander. If you decide your dander is too oily for soil, gently injure the nearest lamp tossing machine and stand back while the multicolored fizzing foam engulfs your left elbow.

Thanks very much for being. I know you all are, and I’m truly grateful that this is. Hey, if you weren’t, you simply wouldn’t be; and then of course my thanks for your being would soon roll hastily toward the nearest asparagus burrito.

At this point, I must beseech unto you: If you do not enjoy this upcoming weekend, or any other day for that matter, I shall be forced to report you to the Inner Peace Police. If those guys apprehend your frownings, you’ll be mandated to toss marshmallows into the gopher hole. Soon after that, your presence will be requested at the North American Sandwich Throwing Contest, which is never held at midnight on top of Old Smokey.

Stand proudly during a meeting and give each of your office supplies a name; and tell them jokes often with a very big voice. This activity will very will very quickly let you know who you can trust.

Now I will go back to my finger realignment. Please call my veterinarian and find out if my lunch is still there.

Thank you,

Abner L. Pignibbler

a.k.a. “Mr. Kaboom”

And now for more varnish tray zipper waddles…

An Important Corporate Bulletin

Dear Underlings,

As I’m sure none of you are aware, the consensus reached during the recent Corporate Rally And Preparation meeting (CRAP) was that communication has been lacking.  It is in this spirit that we announce the following additions; designed to complement the guidelines of our Company Hospitality Enhancement Additions Policy (CHEAP).

All that being said, we’re excited to announce to all of you that new tasting tanks have been installed in Room 1023.  You can enjoy the flavor of any gravy or fruit salad by merely entering the tank and setting the knob to 2.3 while pointing your index fingers to Alpha Centauri and / or Cleveland.

Please be certain to wear protective clothing while tasting the new entries on the Flavor Dials.  Each dial has a luminous cramp lantern designed to strike fear in the hearts of any lingering mole wrench sleeveless hydrocarbons.The new entries, of course, include Swiss, Roquefort, and Toe cheeses.  Utmost caution is urged, however; as no one is completely certain as to the effect of cutting the cheese in the confines of the tank. Enjoy the scented antler handles in full view of the sinus chipper mechanism.

Many of you may also have noticed the velvet coating that has recently been applied to the walls and floors in the cafeteria.  This should allow grumpy employees to increase their fluffiness after the mandatory face rubbings.  Face Time will be scheduled during breaks and lunches to allow others to photograph the Softness Surprise Sessions that will be accompanied by a very large accordion with percussive inquisitions.  Be sure to wear your mask and rub your face only on designated, pre-sanitized areas.

Last but by no means least, Karl and Milly-Rae Snortwaffle have agreed to spearhead our saliva collections again this year.  As in previous years, it would be very much appreciated if all of you could please make sure your contribution lands in the Collection Vessel, rather than on Karl or Milly-Rae’s shoes.  Although both Mr. and Mrs. Snortwaffle enjoyed the shiny, yet ucky patina on their safety boots, they also reported sudden nausea and gagging when they tried to unlace before dinner time.  Thanks in advance to Karl and Milly-Rae for keeping the Spit Vats full so our machines are automagically lubricated during these challenging economic times.

If you have any questions about the use of the tasting tanks, velvet face rubs, or Spit Central, please call 800-555-1212 and ask for Mr. Crinkleberry.  He will never really help you, but he is an excellent listener and has been known to make really good dingleberry jam.

Thank you,

Francis “Golden Boy” Jinglepockets

President and CEO, StinkyInks, Inc.

And now for something completely different…

Silly School Tips

Hello Persons,

Although it is still the dog days of summer, The Labor Day will be one more time coming to visit us, and the schools may or may not open due to the COVID-19 indignation. Regardless, I have some very important suggestions that are enumerated below (see the BIG words I am using?? This must be important!!); and I will now use my bestest English sentence structure and grandma to present whatever it was I was trying to mention. Since nobody requested any guidance from the likes of me, I will hereby place it in front of your eyes anyway, regardless of your willingness to enjoy and / or utilize what I consider to be the very best methods of succeeding at school; and if you don’t agree with me please just remember that this needlessly long run-on sentence is my proud rendition of very important tips that everyone had just better embrace with great enthusiasm so I don’t have to get Gornok, my very large pet monster, involved for enforcement. You get what I’m sayin’???

This is irreverent to the need for some residual guidelines of good, down-home, school amplification tips. I have decomposed a few of these gridlines, as shown below, which have never helped me use a mirror to look myself in the eye and exclaim, “YOU! You again!! Quit following me!!” Of course, these days I am pretty good friends with me so it’s OK if I follow myself around now.

So, as you approach the school days of your present hello, please remember these simple things, which I’m sure will help you or perhaps your offspring greatly on a daily basis:

1) Wear your socks on your hands and bark at the teachers. This will keep their attention while you are nearby.

2) Sell used insects during and after class. You can increase your earnings by autographing the exoskeletons of these nice little creatures. Very collectible and easy to store.

3) Carry 7 1/2 foot lengths of rusty pipe between classes. People will leave you alone and let you have all the room you need in the halls.

4) Give me lots of money. I like money. This is good, to give it to me. You may hand it to me, or e-mail it to: noway@nuh-uh.com.

5) Trade your pens and pencils for very large crayons and chalk. Use these to do your homework, especially that which MUST be typed. If confronted about your workmanship, tell the teachers that these are the only things your pet hyena will not eat.

6) GET THAT CHICKEN OFF MY SHOULDER!! Huh? It’s a fly? Oh, OK!! Whew!! Sorry…

7) .backwards sentences your all write ,it of fun the for Just .order reverse in words the put just is mean I What .correctly do to difficult very be can This .sometime it Try

8) Mix occasionally in a sentence up the words. English teachers can tested be way this, to see attention if they are paying. Surprised you might be, find to out many how not really teachers reading homework are carefully very.

9) Lern two spel and dew it korrekly at awl thymes. Yoo mossed bee eggstreamly cairfull abowt chekking yor werk.


10) Punctuation! Is very? Important in proper, sentence, structure use it correctly don’t you hate it when people don’t.

Very well then. I’m happy to excrete that now you are prepared for anything that may fall into your potato salad. Enjoy the weekend, and always remember that it’s better to be you than for you to be me; and although you can count to it, eight is a word, not a number.

OK fine,

Klern Forkstabber

Imitation Education Expert

Bribley Lamp Cord Museum

Room 421

Viffleburp, New Honkney 1020103

And now please to enjoy these two videos of the amazing foot tapping bippity bops of Gracie, George, and Fred.

An Open Letter To Friends Or Others

Dear Service Warmers,

Thank you for ingesting both pots of crayfish broth during the Great Mustard Festival. After all, one can never be certain how long a 6 inch, foot long Sumpway Sand Witch will turn out to be; especially when it has long been known that TV antennas never make good Snackwonder Surprise.

Today I received reinforcement of my long standing belief that there is a neurological connection between my hiney and my head bone. This I have determined by venturing from my typing chair, this one here that I’m sitting on, in my writing room, where I am writing to you while typing and wondering what it was I should actually be telling you.

So there I was, approximately 676 feet above sea level (plus or minus 3 million miles), thinking that because I used my aging body in the garden today and it hurts in various places, maybe I should go downstairs and get some aspirin; so I got out of my chair, started out the door of my typing room (which I use for writing) (in addition to sitting) (and now the excessive use of parentheses in an already clunky run-on sentence), and lo and behold I completely forgot what for I was going down the stairs to get something; I have no idea what the heck it was. Shortly thereafter (well OK, my body didn’t get shortened because I was the same size, but it wasn’t very much time) I mumbled to myself out loud so my ear things could induce vomiting:

“What the…?”

“What was I gonna…??”

“Why was I going downstairs???”

I come back; I sit down, and VOILA!! My brain thing in my headbone was now retrieving memory information. I go for to put the aspirin into my mouth place and wash it down with some dihydrogen oxide. Therefore, the logical contusion is: my hiney and brain are connected somehow.

Please, no butt head jokes.  Unless you want to.

OK. So back to the original premise that all of you Wonderful Yankle Tramplers out there were so very helpful with drinking 72 gallons of crayfish squeezin’s during the Grape Custard Vestibule. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to sell that stuff on the street corner?? After a few hours it begins to smell like someone was storing tuna fish salad in my sneakers. After only 47 minutes you can bet your sweet golf hammer I’ve filled my nostrils with marbles to prevent the barfstinkens from floating into my smellgrabber organs. And if you’ve ever heard “Inna Gadda Da Vida” on the smellgrabber organ, well you know you’ve been treated to some of the best doggone Snot Marble Surprise this side of Eastern New Sniffington.

Very well then. I must go find solace in my cat’s new molar polishing machine. In the meantime my friends, I leave you with the wisdom of that age-old someone whose circular germinations you may or may not have ever endured:

It’s always better to be you than for you to be me; and although you can count to it, “eight” is a word.

And now it’s time for the video thing.  If you listen very closely to the words of this song, you’ll notice that it makes at least as much sense as all the stuff you’ve read until now on this page of story weirdness with your eyes that you use for reading.

On the other hand, you have the smellgrabber song…

Globs Of Mugg And A Rented Blanex

Dear Friends,

The news has been rather stressful lately. I’m so trinkled by all of the fizzpop that I really can’t bear to lick the remote control!! I’m here to say, that for me, there is no better stress relief than writing and / or reading nonsense. Well, there probably are other remedies for stress warts, but nonsense is a good thing for my earwax to enjoy one of those good ones.

Things.

Things include chocolate, the wonder drug of the universe. Chocolate is so doggoned good it should probably be a controlled substance. But someone wisely made it into candy long ago, so now it is completely acceptable in foot smelling contests at the  Annual Martian Rhubarb Flinging Derby. I often cover things with chocolate. My car is brown and slimy as a direct result of this behavior. This is a bit strange when it gets really warm outside, because as I approach expressway cruising speed I get brown globs of mugg that splook the windshield. This challenges my dexterity at times, because I often stick my whole face out the window for chocolate catching. I never enjoyed bug covered chocolate before this very time!!

I rented a Blanex last weekend. I needed to recover the hammer sand that was purging my swamp hockey. Run, run, run down a salty road to find the tingly science filters living in the boathouse. Do you ever expect the train to stop on time? Nobody sees that far, so just resimplify your twenty three percent milktoast warblers and bark moonly at the wild. You’ll never be stronger for it.

My Hair has a VERY ugly pair of pajamas that reeks of GIANT, TWELVE-TOED MONKEY SNAKE ENDOCRINE GLANDS!!!  And believe me, that’s pretty darned green and fluffy!  I know a fossil hunter when I hear one, and if you don’t put that stink bomb away right now I’ll sell you a brown leather bedpost at the crack of noon!  Do you understand me??  Good golly, I hope not.

Now that you’ve sampled the goat raisins, you are ready to progress to the next step:  wonkling.  Wonkling can be very stationary and exquisitely mobile.  Use something to do a task, throw it in the air, and use it no more.  This is the way of the stationary wonkler.  Change lanes abruptly, apply heat to an iron molecule, and shake your hair until the electrons fall off.  This is the way of the mobile wonkler.  Wonkle like you’ve never wonkled before.  That will show them!!  I find deep fried owl toes a most enjoyable snack while driving heavy whipping cream through the vegetable cemetery.

And now for the shaming:

Do you use toothpaste for tire repair?     Of course not!

Do you slurp fried chicken through a cheese grater??    I hope so!!

Do you walk to school or carry your lunch??    Absolutely!!

Does cat fur remind you of candles made of Jell-O??    If so, you are my kind of snail sniffer!!

OK, that’s probably quite enough shame for one year or so. Just remember what COULD have happened.  I mean hey, we can’t all be influenced by loofah sponges, now can we??

Remove this teleprompter from your jailing list.

Do it today.

And now for a truly delicious version of Bohemian Rhapsody by some of my favorite…um… artists(?)