Dear Lumpflatteners,

Before proceeding any further, I must hereby explain that although, upon reading the title, you may be hormonalIy imbalanced, I sincerely hope you are not expecting a detailed description of the origin of incendiary snibbleforks. The reason for this is quite simple: the amount of effort required to induce such indelible mud pastries far outweighs the large pile of recycled celery that has already flattened the tires of my trailer. Instead, 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.  I’ve been keeping my drained plugs here in the bottom drawer of my desk where I’m sure they feel safe and are finally unable to smell the cabbage burning in the candelabra.

Hey!!  What’s that gourd doing in cat food now?? Didn’t we agree that squashpickles are to be granted the same virtual hallucinations as all those oversized pennies we’ve been finding in your moss pockets? Please try to ignore all my future instructions regarding this ink washing procedure.

Thank you.

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 43, 2104 .  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 ever 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!!!

Perhaps this video will give you enough bread sampling encouragement to face yet another week’s festivities which will, of course, include the Dingle Day Dance. Or whatever this is…

Have you ever had one of those days/weeks/months where you are trying your best to try, but try as you might, you just can’t seem to have enough energy to try all the things you’d like to try?

Me neither!!

So in honor of my days/weeks/month of having too many radioactive lima beans lodged in my nether regions, I hereby proclaim that this edition of “Happy Friday!!!” will consist of randomly generated thoughts that came from my headbone, and not any silly Fartificial Intelligence (FI). I will number these thoughts so you can refer back to them at any time, unless of course you have no time, in which case I suggest you buy a compass, speedometer, or perhaps even a wristwatch to get some time under your belt. Or on your wrist.

Here you go then. These random thoughts will be topical in nature, alpha-erratically enumerated, and placed in no particular order.

1. Foraging – I envision a small pepper clown foraging in the wilderness.  There it will find invisible ink with which to write secret recipes. I hope there are also returnable bottles available for spare change!!

L. Muffins – Come over to our house and enjoy some dust muffins we made several weeks ago. We’ll wash them down with a nice hot cup of Cream of Toenail soup; then run wildly to the nearest receptacle. We’ll have fun!!

8. Eyebrows – I rarely apply varnish to my eyebrows anymore, but when I do, they are oh so shiny!! Note:  do NOT apply eyebrow varnish while walking through a swarm of bees!! 

They get stuck and will sting until they get loose, resulting in a condition known as “puffbrow.”

11. Drywall – Looks like I’ll need to stop eating drywall chips. I thought they would help my tummy, but now my hiney seems to think it wants to be a building contractor.

V&. Chipmunks – I’ve tried in vain to teach chipmunks how to run my lawn tractor. However, I quickly learned that when it comes to machines, chipmunks do not know their holes from a hiney on the ground.

@. Northern Lights – When I listen closely, I can smell the Northern Lights. This is especially enjoyable during The Combustible Stinkweather Festival.

0. Bandersnag – I’m searching for bandersnag seeds so I can make yummy casseroles to sell online. So:  if you know anyone who remembers Johnny Wumpo And The Fleebs, please keep it to yourself. Thank you.

2z. Stereo – A recent study has in no way shown that 13% of all octopus habitats are lacking in modern stereo equipment.

Bu! Memories – Remember that one time when we never ate moth balls under the bleachers at Zoot Stadium? Oh… those were never the days.

Red. Accordion – Every time I eat a lot of beans, my digestive system becomes very aware of the thunder snacks and reacts accordingly. This has nothing to do with my inability to play the accordion.

K$. Hug Ouch – I’ve always thought porcupines were cute, but nobody ever told me not to hug one.  Please bring pliers and disinfectant.

And finally…

!!r. Seminars – To supplement my retirement income, I’ll be conducting seminars on such valuable topics as “Befriending Small Appliances,” and “Booger Removal Techniques.” To sign up, please send an e-mail and method of payment to smellmytoes@notnow.net

Thank you,

Giblet R. Snoofhorten

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OK, that’s probably enough for now. At this time I leave you with the following final thought: Happy Friday to you all!!! May your ears enjoy delicious flavors; and may your nostrils flutter softly in the breeze.

Peace, Love, and Hugs,

Kenny

As the title of this story may or may not indicate, this has been a big and gigantor time of visiting with family and friends during the last few days; so 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 Rust 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.”

All this reminds me of a song I just made up, which of course is sung to the tune of “His Name Is Maroo.”

Here comes the Dust Monkey.  His name is Maroo. 

He’s got plenty of dustings for me and for you.

 I offered him candy to eat on his break. 

He told me, “No thank you, I prefer cake.” 

“I don’t want your dust now!!” I started to whine.

He yelled “Just go and put it where the sun don’t shine.”

I don’t think Maroo and I will ever be friends.

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

This coming Sagnerday I will illegally change my name to Frapzak Mizzlepop, which of course was never a Native American name meaning “Slumbers With Chowder.”  Used donuts and apple chowder vinegar will be served in celebration.

Please always remember to be kind to socket wrenches and other living shopping carts.

In closing, I’d like to thank all of you for who you are. And I know I’ve said it before, but please remember that it’s always better to be you than for you to be me; and although you can count to it, eight is a word.

How’zabout some funny videos? Yes, I find them delicious on a lukewarm pond of egg sauce.

Warning:  the following installment of Frappy Hiday contains large amounts of nonsense and intestinal worms.  Do not read any further if you are prone to sleeping with rubber bands in your cereal or have an allergic reaction to sense that makes no things. 

What the heck kind of title is that?  Anyhow???   Is this going to be one of those stupid dog butt sniffing stories?? Come to think of it, I’m not sure I know any dog butt sniffing stories.  I could maybe make one up, but there’s really nothing you can buy with three nickels anymore.  So why would I sniff the butt’s dog?  Our friend Musky da was very good at sniffing a butt’s dog in his day, and he seemed to be very intent with this activity.  Does this mean that sniff dogging is similar to wise wondering?

No, this is an adventure in stress relief.  You see, I’m being a bit indulgent here… and I’m going to just crack open a jar of petroleum jelly and a box of crackers, and make a nice snack that not only sticks to your ribs but lubes the bones and coats the skin with a nice shiny paragraph on Al Gore and his TV Dinners.  Then I’ll wash it all down with a nice tall glass of dry ice.   Life has presented numerous “challenges” of late, ok?  I placed “challenges” in “quotes” because there are some “people” who are getting on my “nerves” and I would love to “choke” them but I don’t want to go to “jail” just because the “kakaheads” are making me “crazy.”  You “know” what I “mean??”

Then we have “those people over there” who seem bell lent for heather to “drive me up a tree” and I don’t even have a seat belt for that tree or anything.  No air bags neither.  No smell phone to stick in my ear so I can drive like a zombie and crash into a giant salami.  I mean hey, if someone is determined to “tree me up a drive,” the very least that person could do is provide air conditioning and a hybrid engine that gets well over 93 miles to a gallon of ice cream.

Am I right or am I wrong??

Of course I am!!

I’m keenly aware that the only “solution” to letting someone “up me tree a drive” is to tune out their bullroni and strongly suggest that nasal cheese insertion be performed.  The instructions would come in a format very much like this:

“Hey you with the face!  Remember that one time when you decided to wear your smell phone on your head to drive irreverently during thundersnow and big fat swollen dead raccoons??  Are you in the want of pickled toilet paper?  I am now urging you vehemently to cram large cheese globs in your nose to enhance your breathing!!  And while you’re at it, why don’t you place your tongue in that electrical box over yonder??  That box needs testing, and you’ve just the tongue to do it!”

This, I am sure, is the only true way to diplomatically tell  flame-headed wombats just how wonderful you feel about  their actions.

Don’t you agree??

Of course I do!

I was also very compressed at the driving ability of one total bark-eating numbskull just a few yargons ago while retrieving our grandsons for a nice weekend of “Lick The Thistles.”.  There I was, careening down the expressway in my 2014 racing Toyota Sienna, and going the legal speed limit or even less, and some tonk-mookler decided to pass me with less than 2 millimeters clearance between his bumper and my front fender with no regard for the safety of any insects or other humans.  I mean, this tampon-brain forced me into the evasive “holy cow” maneuver.  Then of course he (or she??) proceeded to cut off numerous other innocent sidebanders while zipping in and out of traffic.   Now THAT’S intelligence, don’t ya think?  Seedless to nay, I had a few opinions which instantly arose from my brain and out of my mouth as I flailed the steering wheel about while I tried to prevent the kersmooshing of automotive metal molecules and finely crafted petrochemicals.

Now, believe me, I understand that people don’t intentionally do things TO me, they just DO THINGS.  But sometimes I just let it get to me, and then I go find a bug and try to teach it to sing karaoke.  And of course, trying to teach a bug to sing karaoke is not very considerate at all.  I try to be tolerant of people who are less than wonderful…   I think I’m getting better at being nice these days; but while my eyes and mouth are being pleasantly neutral, my mind is screaming at the top of its lungs:

“HOLY MACKEREL, WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO BREATHE ON THIS PLANET??  I’M BECOMING CONVINCED THAT YOU NEED TO EAT BARK AND POOP AT THE MOON!!”

This is not very kind, so I’m very grateful that I don’t often react with nastiness to those type of folks.  Anymore.  Used to be I would actually SAY  the things that my mouth wanted to spit, but then I’d have to apologize and offer expensive candy or something.  Maybe that’s part of getting old enough to remember when the Beatles came over on the Mayflower, I dunno.  But I DO know that stress is a very small pair of pajamas that seek dogfood in a jar of jellybeans.  So the next time I get angry, please remind me that there really is a bus that has one way tickets to Indianapolis.  I don’t really want to go there, but if I never run away again it will be the next time.

I had an ice cream cone today.  That was helpful. And in spite of the intense heat, most of this tasty treat went into my mouth.

Speaking of stress… wasn’t I speaking of stress??  I’m very grateful that I don’t work for a living anymore.  But if I did, I’d certainly seek a job where the stress is zero minus 173 and you get paid for loafing. Bud Abbott and Lou Costello did a nice bit about just that very subject…

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,

Ron Again Pobblestick, Information Specialist
21½ Winky Avenue
Clam Sneeze, Frongolia 2209098

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

Lots of people are traveling these days, and in order for your travels to be comfortable and wibbedy-boo, I’m feeling compelled to issue compulsory warnings to any and all travelers, which of course means, if you’re getting ready to travel, whether you know it or not, you’ll likely need input from me, the person, who offers the following tips on how to travel in this short but long (by Kakahead standards) run-on sentence I hereby bestow upon you all with great instability.

Therefore, I strongly urge every living thing to embrace the following travel tips with great enthusiasm:

1 – Please, for the 328^th time, please do NOT tape paperclips to your fingernails just before passing through airport security. This causes very loud brooping alarms and the security people will wiggle their eyebrows at you for at least 13 milliseconds.

R – Always ensure you keep your optical nerves unclogged and free of compost flavored radio components.

5 – Be vigilant of germ bearing strangers. Does anyone appear to be drooling? For all you know, they may be infected with Wasabi Olfactory Ouchy Disorder (WOOD). This is easily transmitted in close quarters; so if you see someone drooling, avoid helping them blow the WOOD snot out of their nostrils.

5n- Other nasty diseases that are readily spreadily are: Tingly Or Otherwise Twittering Hairs (TOOTH) that seem to take on a life of their own when they leave your neighbor’s scalp; Funky Armpit Stinky Times (FAST) which disable your sniffing glands after causing brief fainting spells, and Belly Area Regurgitation Flicks (BARF) which… well… urrrp… occckkk…. arrrggghhh get away!! Get AWAY!!

Q – When traveling to other lands, please try to learn at least a few phrases of the native language. For example, in Germany, one might stand on a busy street corner and shout: “Mein Onkel hat noch mal sein Klavier gegessen!!” English translation: “My uncle has eaten his piano again!!” Now if you are in a Spanish speaking country, a proper introduction to new friends could come in the form of: “Mi casa es muy apestoso!!” English: “My house is very stinky!!” The most enjoyable part of these cultural experiences, I’m sure, will be the reactions of those to whom you are speaking.

I have many other artificially flavored travel suggestions, but I don’t want to overload your noggins with such vital information right now. You may e-mail me at u.r.stinky@wuttagoof.com; or of course you can call Snern, my pet wombat; who screens all my calls with the diligence of someone who has never existed.

In the meantime, I would like to leave you with this parting thought: don’t try to build your own plane like Mickey Mouse did. Might cause problems…

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 even though I intend to continue with this run-on sentence 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

———————————————–

OK!! Now on to da cartoon!!  And it’s a WEIRD one…

Please note: you are reading this message because you are on a secret list that only the Cheese Vendors can access with toaster friendly amplification.  That being said, I want to warn you all that I feel a little nonsensical today due to the paperclips that Mr. Ventricle keeps inserting into our favorite spoon sharpener.  It is therefore with gravy and peanut clustered insulation that I send you this very Unimportant Announcement.

My Dearest Habbniferns,

I’m sure none of you are wondering by now whether the sky has been removed from the Ionized Bugle Machines (IBM). There’s probably a good chance that someday I can divulge the particulars of that molecular substation, but this is no time for soaking baby toys in cups of sesame oil.  Besides, all that powder I keep in my toenail drawer simply must find its way back to Gattlestar Ballactica.

Am I right or am I wrong??

On a more insectivorous note, I ate a bug once during the Warmer Weather Times (WWT). It had very little flavor, and devouring its body really was not as pleasant as one might surmise. This required minimal effort, however: I opened my mouth, a small insect flew in, and I closed my mouth again. I tried to pitoo, then kerchack, but when I said “orgkkk” my swallowing mechanism switched on and down the hatch it went as I Bit My Tongue (IBMT). Possibly there was some struggle on the part of the poor bug, as I was somewhat sure I felt griggling actions as the very small Insect Bit The Dust On The Way Down My Esophagus (IBTDOTWDME).

Now of course we must discuss this business of intermediate tree watering schedules. Please do not venture into that territory with me ever again. Why would you insist on watering the trees with that Jell-O dispenser I shall never understand. Don’t you know that pressurized prune skins can injure cats and other flying rodents? Additionally, we really need to talk about your compulsion to slide wildly through the Baked Apple Rhubarb Fritters (BARF).

OK. I really must go to the store now. They have metal objects on sale, and one can never have too many metal objects. I’m keeping mine in the washing machine; they help spoons and radio antennas stay fresh and crinkly.

Thank you for not licking my car. Last time my car was flattened, all the tire juice ran sideways through the maple syrup. So again, thank you VERY MUCH for not flattening my cat’s toy water fountain. Unless you did. In which case I will stop. Writing in incomplete sentences. Which cannot be sentences at all.  Since they are incomplete. So therefore they must. Be sentence fragments.

So there.

Yours with no hair,

Abnick G. Wiffleponk

a.k.a. “Sgt. Lumpy, Underwater Greenskeeper (SLUG)”

Now the cartoon is about to happen, and this one should cause none of you to long for Jellyfish Bay.

Well I finally done did it. I created an account on OpenAI, the website where ChatGPT lives. If you haven’t heard, ChatGPT lives on an artificial intelligence platform and is designed to respond when you send messages to it. Can’t say I’m a fan of all this artificial intelligence stuff. I do agree that it has great potential for problem solving and such, but I also worry about humans who would use its power for naughty purposes… that could be frightening. My apprehension has finally submitted to my curiosity. I simply had to try it.

Of course, being the kakahead I am, I did my best to get this robotic rhetoric regurgitator to make silly. Here are a few of the results of my frivolous fribbling:

Me: I’ve decided to cook some pencils and feed them to my bicycle.

ChatGPT: Feeding pencils to a bicycle is not recommended as they are not suitable or digestible for bicycles, and cooking them would likely render them inedible for any purpose.

Me: Why are ducks calling me Herman? Answer with one sentence please.

ChatGPT: Ducks are calling you Herman because they have associated you with the name due to repeated exposure or conditioning.

Me: There is a toad stuck in my armpit.

ChatGPT: Please seek immediate medical assistance for the safe removal of the toad from your armpit.

Me: Why would a cat put a crayon in a car’s gas tank?

ChatGPT: Cats typically do not intentionally put crayons or any other objects in a car’s gas tank, as their behavior is primarily driven by natural instincts and curiosity rather than specific motives.

Me: I’m thinking you’ve been drinking slug slime again.

ChatGPT: As an AI language model, I don’t have a physical presence or the ability to consume substances like slug slime. My responses are generated based on a database of text and knowledge. If there’s anything specific you’d like to discuss or any questions you have, feel free to let me know.

Me: Click wildly as the mouse pointer glides toward the new toilet motor.

ChatGPT: It’s important to handle electronic devices and appliances safely and avoid any potential hazards. Interacting with a mouse pointer and a toilet motor in that manner could be dangerous and is not recommended. Please exercise caution and follow appropriate safety guidelines.

Me: What the hell is a toilet motor??

ChatGPT: I apologize for the confusion. There is no such thing as a “toilet motor.” I misspoke in my previous response. A toilet typically doesn’t have a motor, as it relies on gravity and water pressure for flushing. My apologies for any confusion caused.

(My thoughts: ChatGPT appears to be well versed in CYA.)

Me: Say something silly.

ChatGPT: Sure, here’s something silly: Did you hear about the mathematical plant? It grew square roots!

(I have to admit, that made me laugh.)

Me: You don’t seem to know what I mean by silly. Say something nonsensical.

ChatGPT: Burplefloofle snickerdoodle wobblepants gigglesnort!

(Sorta silly…)

Me: Landerponk zickleymargen broo-hickety sembtofe, bizzle cagiloopen!!

ChatGPT: Gobbledygook flibbertigibbet ziggity-zag, woggleflop blibber-blabber doodle-dag!

(Meh…)

Me: Moochy?

ChatGPT: Hoochy-moochy, moochy-roochy, boochy-woochy!

(Copy cat!!)

So ChatGPT seems to think it can be silly… but I prefer to replicate my own syllables with orange meatballs and over extended soda crackers. You may have heard on the news that some scholars are using ChatGPT as a replacement for their own brain power to compose term papers, etc. Well not this guy. It was fun while it lasted, but I’ll be leaving ChatGPT in the dust of my nonsense while it grows up big and strong to take over the universe.

“Hoochy-moochy” indeed!!

So ChatGPT can either be amazing, or scary… or perhaps both. Like this for example…

Dear Lardsnorts,

It has been reported to me that some of you have been been accused of pickling corduroy. Well I’m here to tell you, that if you don’t begin doing something else soon, you won’t be able to do anything very soon. Soon you will know that something else was done long before The Egg Sniffing hour.  By that time, will you even be aware that those things you ate last night contained absolutely nothing nutritionally resembling turtle snouts??

I should hope not!!

You better know something!! I’ll let you know when to know it. Do you know what I mean? You had BETTER know!! Don’t look at ME in that tone of voice!! You often remind me of when all those lentils were floating from the out  house behind the garage. What the HECK have you been slurping during nap time??

Anyhow??

The weather was completely perfectly indecent during these past 42 yodelwhompers. That’s because I forgot to throw coat hangers at the sun all last week. I threatened the sun within an inch of its life, and as you can see it paid off backwards. Now we can all cry and roll on the floor because we are very aware that the sun won’t listen to me when I shout. This of course increases the likelihood of macaroni storms.

Cheese is applied during the evening hours.

On a personal note:  My beautiful girlfriend, Zonikula, and I went walking the other day with our legs and feet. During our walk, we decided to crawl on our bellies for 13 miles to see if rain deer really know how to fly. Rain deer are absolutely nothing like Santa’s reindeer. No. Rain deer are made of water and they sing greeble songs when the geese run backwards through the tomato forest. This gives them magical flavor crystals that can only glow in their earlobes during The Great Nickel Tossing Festival.

Last time we were never there, the noises of our crawlings were completely different than the normal klick, klick, clomp as we sniggled down along the Mosquito Ribber near the old Cobb plant (where Cornn is Kingg). Suckers were busy catching humans that were running up the river. Very remarkable. Garter snakes tried to trim our fingernails as we invaded “their space;” and as they wriggled gently over our eyebrows all 13 of them kept whining about how they were missing their favorite Applesauce Program. Why They Capitalized These Strange TV Program Words With Their Nostrils Remains A Mystery To All Of Us Who Enjoy A Complete Breakfast Of Oats Coated With Bullet Proof Mustard.

Please, don’t ever describe this to me again.

There was probably a time when we could have stood up and used our foot things to walk like regular snork monsters, but that never occurred to us until we got back in our car and noticed that our belly mud had hardened into very attractive pajama sandwiches that looked and tasted very much like those old fashioned salami burgers we never had when we was kids.

Ah yes, those were the good old moldy days.  When we was kids, we were required to drool into 3 gallon containers until the Body Odor Horns blasted all of our Stink Juice into the rafters.  Drool collections were repeated incessantly until each container was full of enough crayon dust to power a small rhinoceros wagon.   This of course required us kids to stand on our stomp ladders with rafter rakes in hand, to collect as much Stink Juice as we could to moisten the clanger modules.

My fellow Corporate Citizens, please to not regard the aforementioned statements as instructions for personal fungus removal.  Simply incorporate all what was stated here into your dreams until the rinse cycle is complete.

OK.

Now you have been klempered.

Please resume your taddle-brickling.

My chair eats frogs,

Hyram C. Pooflestench

A.K.A. Peeper Fling Muskellunge

Here now are some video analyses of the effects of sauerkraut saturation on blind ants.