Dear Saggy Hands,

In the interest of Corona Oh No, I’ve claimed a small part of the planet and have renamed it to suit my dog’s knees. It’s a quaint little place with hot and cold running wildly; and although clams are rarely served with dessert we could probably order out and enjoy the Mange of La Muncha while throwing fluffy red sculptures toward the full moon. In My New Country, of which I alone am In Charge; nothing will ever be achieved without the express permission of the Zagnut Flinging Champions and their two children, Smeeb and Grackzample.

Even though I’ve always refused to enter your home, you must comply with my reverse hospitality which dictates that I’m pretty sure you owe me a visit here in Tinkle Frost. Yes, that’s correct my friend. That’s the name of the New Land which has been Claimed By Me. Please consider yourself indignant and always keep a special place in your hamper for the Beautiful Newly Claimed Land. Keep in mind that only residents of Wrinkle Fist will have the privilege of snorking gravy up their noses while stocking up on toilet paper and making hand sanitizer out of donuts.

Additionally, please be aware that once you’ve become a citizen of Jingle Crust, you must extinguish all other amplified hacking and coughing that comes so naturally to those who run with a mouth full of lollipops. This is not only mandatory but is a requirement that must be blindly obeyed with full goose Bozo and thank you Uncle Eric. Once the clicking ritual consumes all your waking hours for the next 76 weeks, you must eloquently memorize your shoe size and call the Pineapple Salesman before washing ashore for the Greatly Exaggerated Beef Jerky Festival.

Finally, if you ever divulge the location of Wrinkle Dust to the Tax Man (or any other demonized ear wax removal tool), you must be banished to the Whisker Treatment Factory where the staff will make certain that you’re gradually recommended for a walk down Mammary Lane to enjoy the breast of times; and maybe even some wings or a thigh, and perhaps also the Chicken Nuggets that will be available in large packages of Drum Stick Yellow #7 or maybe even Giblet Surprise Pudding, which of course is served not only with crackers but in some areas of the globe you can even buy tickets to watch this guy actually dress his dog to look exactly like Sir Reginald of Pringlesauce County; except this rendition is nothing close to the original because that would be too tacky and nobody would even care because it’s all a crock of moose juice anyways but because it’s been awhile since I wrote a run-on sentence I thought I’d throw one in here for the halibut and I hope you found it inexcusable.

OK. That’s quite enough for this digestive illumination. Please, just make sure, as I never requested earlier in this writing, to schedule your visit to Tangle Flask sooner rather than later. If you refuse to comply, I’ll remain your devoted friend and will shower your cat with condominiums and other pleasant sundaes. I will conclude with a small amount of acrobatics, which I’m sure would amuse you if you were here to watch.

Yours in Seven Dimensions,

Grelben “Stinky Pores” Zortenfloom

a.k.a. “The Wheel Barrow Worm Rancher”

On the other hand, politics according to Gracie Allen was very similar to what we see today…

Dear Abe and Gollie,

I would like for both of you to please remember to ask all the crayons not to scream so much while we’re eating our new favorite cereal: Kitty Kat Krunchies. Yes, I know they look just like the dry cat food that’s in Freddy the Freeloader’s bowl, but believe me, all the insects in the yard are cheering when our refrigerator tires go flat.

Do either of you remember when we never sang that “Hey Thanks For The Dried Compost” song?? Well I know I sure would. In fact wood has never been more colorful when sniffed during a Dried Fly Moon. All the fancy nose stockings will surely be reminded to cross the street quickly when the Purple Dust Mixing Bowls come zooming past the stinkberry patch.

Holy Cow!! I forgot to tell you: I’ve changed my elbows into toilet paper tubes!! I’ve waited all my life for my elbows to experience the same crackly shouting noise a greasy buffalo makes when it’s yelling at the traffic lights. Of course, Sir Wilbur Snackhammer of Floofington Castle will be making his famous Mac and Cheese Toothpick Snacks while the rest of us sit around burping loudly during pet food commercials. Oh yes, these are the days for celebrating!! Send around a bag of nails!! Chase a few tree shadows!! Jump backwards into a small pile of figs!! And don’t forget to recite that new Apple Smashing poem I’ve never heard about!!

Ching!! Ching!! Ching!! goes the huge rock when it’s dropped on a glass of water. The noise is delicious; and reminds me of the time my big toe was shooting gumballs out of each radio muscle. Sometimes people give me strange looks when I’m trying to lick my ears; but I just figure they are jealous because they can’t teach their own basketballs how to speak Italian. All the moss flavored candy in the world is not enough to make me want to yell “KABOOM!!” every time a freshly picked pizza cabbage comes rolling into the house. So please don’t try to tell ME how fast a battery can roll into a ketchup scanner!! What do you think this is?? Anyhow??

In closing, thank you for being who you are, and especially for not being me. As the old saying goes, “it’s always better to be you that for you to be me; and although you can count to it, eight is a word.” Therefore, my dear young men, go softly into Dirty Sock Forest and try very hard not to wake up the moochy moochy monsters. Yes I know they are harmless; but all this shouting of “moochy moochy!!” is especially delightful when I shave my new fruit basket. One time they even offered me some creamy rust powder to drink with my liquid donuts. I respectfully told them to take their wiggly eyebrows and their strange headlight sausages elsewhere.

Now I can’t find my pants.

Peace, Love, and Very Quiet Shouting,

Norzle P. Yendlebonk – “The Traveling Mustard Thief”

In the true spirit of ghostly gestures, there will be no seance tonight due to heavy cream spoiling on the radiator. The remonculous odor of irregular toe cheese has permeated the room, and the spirits refuse to enter. Even dead people can’t spray enough room deodorant to quench the thirst of a pudding merchant! Besides, remonculous is NOT a word.

Now we get to the part where we have all been urged to smear mayonnaise on our arms and upper torso. Especially vital while at the beach, this activity is a truly soothing way to look like a total geek. After applying the mayo, several devotees have been known to roll in the sand for added excitement. This of course has been the primary factor in the development of the latest fashion craze, the

“sandshirt”.

New things have been added to potatoes which will improve their ability to float through the air. Small, retractable “air paddles” are located in strategic sections for locomotion and navigational stability. Since most active taters soon tire of loping along, starch rockets have also been introduced for rapid propulsion. Additionally, revolutionary velcro brakes have been installed for sure-fire

quick stops.

Next time your spuds go for a little spin through the house, listen closely for the barely audible click that occurs when the air paddles are engaged. Upon hearing the click, hunker down in your chair; because the starch rockets will energize shortly thereafter. Don’t be surprised if your assistance is required when their little joyride is done. Those velcro brakes stick to curtains like there’s no

tomorrow!

Pigs have not yet been able to get off the ground for more than a fraction of second. Air paddles were found to be miserably ineffective with pigs due to their large mass. It was once thought that the presence of pork fat would make a natural lubricant which would enable the air paddles to engage quickly and easily; but the fat inhibited the motion of the paddles instead. Those poor piggies would watch a spud go by and start clicking with everything they had, but to no avail.

Starch rockets would obviously be inappropriate for the porkers, but Mognut R. Wobbynock has proposed the following possible alternatives: pig poppers, pork propellers, and bacon blasters. To date, the bacon blaster seems to have the most thrust; but the exhaust from its tailpipe has induced passersby to invite themselves over for breakfast.

Well, as you know, the universe is a strange and wondrous place to be. Being includes singing, riding a whale to work, and eating pastry. My thorough understanding of this dimension should help all electrically sensitive people know that their medication is really a giant animal begging for the

latest news on powdered worms.

I have undergone much emotional turmoil lately, what with my clam running away with the family crescent wrench and all. So I offer you all my insights, and I’m sure that we will soon have salad with radial tires. If you become down in the dump, get out of there quickly because people throw the most godawful things in the garbage! Do not cling to your material possessions. Give them to me and I will sell them quickly for half of what they are worth. I like to have money to buy candy bars; so you will be doing me a great service and I will be sure to thank you.

BATHE REGULARLY AND PLAY YOUR RECORDS AT THE WRONG SPEED, AND

YOU WILL NO LONGER NEED A REASON TO SMILE.

Dear Shibbles,

As you probably don’t remember, both of you have never squeezed oatmeal until birds joyfully used their clang whistles to welcome home the Screaming Sauce Warmers. Oh my, those were the days, right?? NO!! And additionally, I’m really glad neither of you were tossing laundry baskets at passing water buffalo. I mean, you know about that one time when Larry the Giant Goose Tickler sneezed into his milkshake, right?? Yep, all the raccoons cheered for days. After they smeared peanut butter on their eyebrows, their happy faces looked very silly; but soon they were all telling jokes in French during the Sweet And Sour Moon Dance.

Once I taught a turnip how to blow bubbles with a rake!! Oh wait… maybe that was a dream. If you eat too much cat hair during a nap, you often tend to dream strange things. Very polite tapeworms keep sneaking into my stereo system; which of course makes my vinyl records sound very squirmy. The scissors found a way out of the sewer while they were traveling to Snorktown; so none of us worried that they would miss any meals. Besides, every time a notebook jingles its paper clips, a tape dispenser sings very purple mustard sandwiches.

I’m starting to use crayons instead of my cellphone. This works rather poorly but at least my ears have nicely colored plywood manure samples. Half of my head has raisins, the other half has little tiny beetle caves that glow loudly during the Software Surprise Vertical Lip Licking Contest. All prizes are sold to the loudest burper. Burps can be flavored for nicer color, such as Yellow Strawberry Mist or perhaps Animal Cracker Fuzz Fog. If they are ziffled with a musical tone, burps can relieve Belly Kaboom; which is severe stomach pressure caused by too much gravy in a very small jar. A little prevention, however, is a good way to suggest that everyone leave the room before the onset of Intestinal Volcano (it’s very bad for the noses).

I’m sorry to say I’m crying right now. The laughter from building all this nonsense is making my ankles longer to the point that water is leaking from my eyes. Seriously, I guess maybe it’s good that my own nonsense makes me giggle very bigly, but for some reason all this very silly text has caused my toothbrush to start calling me Crab Neck. And I don’t believe Crabs even know how to order pizza!!

So my dear Molecules, if you’ve read this far, I hope you’ve enjoyed at least a smile or two that you can slide out of your shoes and into a brand new Automatic Bread Roasting Crinkle Toilet. The Moisture Monsters will certainly be pleased that nobody remembers their “fling snail juice in the sock drawer” tricks. We can only hope that none of this information is used to remove stinky earphone grease from speaker cabinets.

Peace, Love, and Lamplicking,

Zabblefoot W. Broopwonkle

a.k.a. Herman The Soup Blaster

If you live in Michigan, you’ve been enjoying a remarkably mild winter this week month of the year time day. I can offer a simple explanation for this constabulary indigestion: I threw coat hangers at the sun all last week. Yep, I threatened the sun within an inch of its life. Much yelling and flinging, yelling and flinging. When you embark upon such an ambitious goal, it’s very important to be loud and repetitious. As you can see it paid off. Now we can all be happy that the sun will listen to me when I shout.

My beautiful girlfriend, Zonikula, was completely compressed at my perforation. I know this to be true because she would often fling open the door and shout, “boy, you’re really something, aren’t you??” during some of my sun training routines. At this point I would look toward her and smile, and she would then say a few more words while shaking her head. Of course I took that to mean, “oh, the poor sun has no idea what it’s up against with this hubby of mine.”

She is so proud of me.

Disfortunately, however, the weather cribbled from Holy Moly Cold to What The Hoochie?? Warm. This of course brought Very Big Rain and Very Fast Snow Melt, which of course brought water into our basement and many other armpit caverns. Roads have been washed away, buildings badly damaged, Too Much Warming Too Darn Fast. I very much apologize to my friends and all those whom I’ve never met for my meterological coat hanger amplification.

I will do some fancy dancing tomorrow in an effort to make Nice Weekend Weather. You see, it’s rather important to me that we have nice weather this weekend because I plan to get off my butt and rent a blanex. I have been putting it off way too long; I need to recover the hammer sand that keeps purging my swamp honkles. The window of opportunity is very gummy and full of decomposing marble trays; so if I don’t get this done before the tingly science filters arrive I’m sure I’ll be living in the boathouse.

I mean seriously, do you ever expect the train to stop on time? Nobody sees that far. Please, just resimplify twenty three percent of your milktoast warblers and bark moonly at the wild. After all, there’s really no certainty that Calvin the Edible Plastic Spoon Vendor will be able to click in the parking lot for more than 12 milliseconds.

So my friends, you can obviously confer that changing the weather is easier than pushing a large oak toothpick into a deliciously prepared cast iron jelly donut. If you ever have any doubts as to the antiquity of my animation, please amplify your pencil sharpener with short, regular spritzes of vinegar and moose dust.

If none of those calibrations deplete your catatonic sofa concerto, simply stuff your mouth full of corn bread and sing at least 3 verses of “The Rhyming Song.”

Dear Lumpflatteners,

Please enjoy the clam sandwiches currently available at the Old New Dehli Deli.  You will find the sam clandwiches right next to the Belly Jellies, in the frinkle sauce department of a Kolibbik store near you.

You may qualify for a package of used cheese.  Please do not write to the following address to see if you have entered your name in the North American Bilge Experience (NABE):

Log Turner Contest
24Cx Bugsnot Blvd.
Chiclet, MI  44404

Please call 1-800-555-1212 for the number.  Ask for Phlegm.

Be advised that all nickels will be collected by a rodent during the coming drainy season. Do not worry about any plugged drains, for as we all know if a plain gets drugged there are more than enough socks to prevent the chafing.  Hey!!  What’s that gourd doing with the cat food now??

Now of course you can be happy to know that I have more paper for sale than ever before.  Some of it is useful. If you want some, send $23.70 in dickels and nimes to my pet dirt clump over there in the hedgerow.  Upon receiving the money, I will send you your 43 tons of compressed paper. Please make sure the car is not in the garage that day.

If any of this makes sense to you, make sure you contact your local Hamper Salesman by July 27, 2019 .  There are also community resources on which you can rely, such as the Cribbled Office Of Pie Stashers (COOPS) and the Ceramic Octagon Plucking Society (COPS).  Neither of these entities will run to your aid.  Therefore, if you understand any of what has been written heretofore, you are basically toast.

Enjoy toast with all your might.  Remember, the toast you crave may be on loan.

Happy Bortinkulars to you, and may the sand never fly into your cereal.

My eyes are lamps,

Kebbic G. Fefflewonk
A.K.A. Harvey Ticknoodle

P.S.:  Thank you for changing the tire leggings last night.  I’m not sure my car would have tolerated another month of “swish – swish KABOOM!!”

Moooo!!!

As the title of this story may or may not indicate, our grandsons are visiting this weekend; and my duty of making up a very silly story is being fulfilled with large buckets of animal crackers lightly seasoned with crayon shavings and Captain Kaboom Dust Flavored Saxophone Sauce, rolled into a run-on sentence that of course invites all the truly masculine garbage cans to disguise themselves as tiny triangular toaster tables that shimmer in the darkness of our new Radio Ranch Wiggle Worms.

Yes.

Perhaps none of you have often been asked, “what do you think the most delicious color of the alphabet sounds like??” I never have been asked that either, so of course my very first answer I never supplied was, “Snurch Lip Surprise!!” After saying that out loud for the 347^th time, nobody will ever again ask me what time the Peanut M&Ms will be flying in from Antarctica. After all, while Penguin Pete and Silvia Seal drive their go carts to the laundromat, we all will be learning new recipes for Shrimp On The Half Shell and maybe even Chopped Cat Food Surprise.

Mmmm Chopped Half Shrimp Shell Cat Surprise!! Remember the good old days when we stored that in the basement for 23 weeks? Oh my, the smell was bigger than a bag of toast that’s been sleeping in the sewer with all the other fizzy, candy coated ice cream handle bar polishing brushes. I never realized just how much shampoo would be wasted on such a gigantic pile of paper when it explodes out of the sock drawer!! My socks cried for days after powdered sawdust was added to the salad dressing. I was finally able to receive their radio lunches in a less than dignified way… all I had to do was tilt my head back and watch the moths sharpen their antlers on the ceiling fan.

These days, life is much more gribbly, and what I mean by that is we all have to put pudding in a friend’s shoes before they leave on a long trip. This will allow them to squint while they walk, and each step will be a squishy adventure. Who would have ever discovered that lawn ornaments could learn to play hockey with soup ladles? It just proves that we can always use a nice refreshing cup of shoelace extract to help us make friends with all those crazy grasshoppers that hang around at Walmart. Why else would those happy railroad clowns hide their flashlights? Everybody knows that green toilet paper makes the very best substitute for parsley flakes when nobody’s looking. Yes, those removable elbow shields you sold me came in very handy during my last trial run in the “Slide Until You Stink Competition.”

In closing, I’d very much like to make an important announcement.

But not right now.But not right now.

Dear Toaster Tossers,

As you may not be aware, there will no longer be any need for teeth tightening in the upcoming gall bladder confusions. This of course means that if just one member of our Secret Society launches more than 67 Raisin Rockets this week, all of us will be in big trouble with Mr. and Mrs. Punchworm. I therefore urge none of you to grab your cat’s elbows while making popcorn.

Of course, there probably should have been stronger crayon warnings during last night’s graham cracker storm. It’s been well known for years that improperly colored crackers will never enjoy an afternoon in Lake Michigan. Better hurry up and get a nice jar of “Happy Frog Nose Surprise” jelly for that often interrupted afternoon snack. Truly delicious with plastic bread and stainless steel soda.

Now I must ask all of you: how do you find the time to hide all those cranberry marshmallows under the couch? Wouldn’t it be safer to fill your toilet with gasoline? Is it not possible that audio cables could decide not to order Mexican food? Are jellyfish reading too many books? Can you think of anything else I want to ask??

No, of course not.

Forgive me, please. I’ve been sleeping with too many tomatoes in my armpits lately; and it’s beginning to fascinate my pet soap dish. You all probably know what it’s like to stuff carrots into a flute; so the cooking process just might cause the antlers to fall right off the minivan. Some of us will probably consider sleeping in the salad bar; but those of us who know better will joyfully roll around in the dessert bar instead.

Finally, I’d like to close with what’s known in knowing places by what’s known as an unknown run-on sentence; and in this particular sentence the word “known” is being known all too often, because you should try really hard to soften the hard boiled eggs with Professor Slapperhank’s portable egg softening lotion that is only sold in stores where the language of choice is Pazookey and all the employees can’t seem to get their freckles to line up to form various words that likely wouldn’t mean much anyway with the possible exception of Trabnack and Blooplinka Ifflebottom.

Very well then. I hereby call this meeting to order with a nice side of oven roasted Hairball Chowder and all the accompanying Crunchy Little Rocks.

Farewell till next time; and please remember to ventilate your ice cream before your lungs fill up with chopped walnuts and fancy sprinkles.

Yours with new nostrils,

Jon Again Pobblestick, Information Specialist                                                                       21 ½ Winky Avenue                                                                                                                Clam Sneeze, Frongolia 2209098

On the other hand, you have some pure Rock Nonsense…

Hello Nice Friendly Peoples!

My brain fell out 3 times this past week, and each and every 139th time all the computerized floral arrangements could be seen waving their tusks at me with indecent cheese filled pasta pies.  Can you relate?  Do you find yourself blaming “The Amazing El-Farto” (or someone not even remotely similar) for all the troubles in your universe??

Well, if you do, you’ll probably never need or even want to send that person a letter expressing just how smelly the air molecules become when they are near you. But just in case, I’ve taken the liberty to compose an all purpose letter you can either send or deliver to someone who has gently taken your self esteem and crammed it into a hollow tree full of spiders and other (perhaps fire-breathing) ickety-boo monster animals. Please feel free not to use this ever at any time at all; but instead maybe read it sometime when the friend you thought was a friend simply turned out to be a very mean person who really doesn’t know how to be a friend so you really may want to just pray for them and ask the Creator Committee to help them be happy and healthy all the day long; even though you don’t like them, and of course please remember that all creatures great and small need and deserve love but that of course does not necessarily mean you will be inspired to make a new ice cream flavor in their name but maybe you could at least try to forgive them for being so nasty and I was wondering if I might please have that big piece of chocolate over there now?

Thank you! OK, here we go with the letter thing you probably should never send; but it might make you laugh away your crackling insoles:

—————————————

Dear Fossilbrain,

I’d like to apologize for allowing you to eat all those barnacles I accidentally put in the pasta salad. It’s just that I was very much enjoying the crunching noise and your interesting amazement at the happy culinary bewilderment. I would also like to apologize in advance for the discomfort you are sure to experience when these barnacles and their shells travel through your digestive tract; and the eye widening sensation they are certain to inflame just before they embark upon the journey to your septic tank.

You may soon discover that Tootsie Rolls do not write well on a chalkboard. If that should occur, please again accept my apology; this time for replacing all your writing implements with pretzels, licorice, and very skinny carrots. We all know that pointy things can make patterns in the sand, which is soon to be found in your pee nut butter and celery sandwiches. Drink 3 centiliters of popcorn oil while gargling with paprika and you’ll be treated to a very remarkable temperature tantrum.

I know you may not want to hear this, but right now I’m pretending to yell with a giant squid flavored amplifier that will cause even the most obstinate pair of moisture control pliers to wither and fly westward due to their foolish insistence upon trolling for sod without an adequate flashlight renewal calculator. Your pets and stain resistant dinnerware will one day thank me for all this.

In closing, I’d like to assure you that in spite of everything and in spit of everything else; I will do my very best to enhance the length of my string supply. After all, one can never have too much string. Thank you for your itchy sidewalls. Whenever I compare them to my inexplicable “potato dances,” life is clearly baffling; much in the same way a fluffy yet malodorous box of dandruff sneaks its way into a delicious rhubarb-liverwurst casserole.

Yours in Tender Shouting,

Breem Pifflewonk, Esq.

“Don’t try to sing while sneezing.  Your nostrils may create an unwelcome booger kaboom.” – Eugene T. Snackpincher

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OK!! Now on to da cartoon!!

Warning: This message contains nonsense and may destroy your porcupine salad.

———————————————

Hello My Dear Frame Handlers,

Although most crustaceans were not aware, I’ve lived in Muskegon for approximately 932. So I must say, thank you for visiting us while we were not at home. Perhaps you have never asked me, “how is Muskegon?? Anyhow??” So I’m probably not overdue for an answer.

So, just how IS Muskegon?? Well, here are some of my own scientifically based observations: Muskegon is like a chicken with no milk for cereal. All the trees are planted upside down and one has a difficult time finding shade under the roots that stick up in the air. The squirrels are very large and strong, which is partly due to their diet of car parts. Wild dogs run the streets in packs of 12 – 20 ounce containers. Cabbage hammers often get lost during their walk home from the movies.

Many small children grow their own toys.

You’d think that in a large town as small as Muskegon there would be a library and perhaps even a delicatessen. Well, unfortunately the only service provided here is curb dusting on Wednesdays between 12 a.m. and 12:03 a.m. So obviously there’s no delicatessen, but rather a small collection of street vendors who, for a small fee, will abstain from throwing food at you while you walk along the freshly dusted curb.

All the fire hydrants have been painted with invisible ink. Nobody knows why, and now of course they cannot find any of them; so the 1973 Dodge Ram 1/2 ton Firetruck and its 14 man crew must rely on many bottles of Dasani and / or Aquafina for fire sprinkling enjoyment.

Muskegon prides itself on the “high quality” paving jobs of the city streets. The primary paving material is zebra mussels. The shells are crunchy and fun to drive on; and the bodies of the mussels are soft and gooey. Once a big layer of mussels is applied to the avenue, a steam roller flattens them to make Instant Road. Nose clamps are freely available at major intersections during “The Great Paving Festival” in early August. While they enjoy the festival, residents wear their nose clamps while singing that old time favorite paving song, “Holy Moly Bad Stink Oh My Gosh Wow.”

Well, I could go on and on, but then I’d soon be forced to join that self-help group, “On And On And On-Anon.”

If you have any questions or concerns, please, by all means, abruptly give yourself a swirly; and then think carefully about what it is you expect to hear from the likes of me.

Got it? OK, that’s fine.

Yours in Two Trains,

Gigglefoot B. Floopenhosen
a.k.a. “The Great Wide Giblet Hunter”

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School’s almost out!!