Gerslabe: A Story of Two Smiggs
By Hyram C. Gilmore

ONCE upon ago there was no use in telling it, the lamps had not but the others did. King Homar knew it was too late to wash the frogs; so his wife made dust for lunch. They both knew full well that large green funnels would soon fall from the sky. Without warning the Merbs cheated each other out of their Volkswagens; making it difficult to play records with the toaster. “Give me no wrenches. My birds are smiling!”, said the young snitch. “Run down there and slap that tree so we can twirl our fruit in peace!”

Noodles remembered that there had been strange sounds coming from the click-poonkler not two hours before. It was widely known that click-poonklers were largely to blame for the rash on the kitty; but there had been no ugly yard things lounging around the Taco Bell today. Therefore, of course, the roofing cement became airborne and struck three birds on their way to the movies. No one would warn them that the giant marbles would be the next dessert at the Holiday Inn.

Creeps, jerks, and stupid-heads filled the hall with their singing:

“O give me some meat
That has sat on my seat,
And I’ll show you some meat
I won’t eat.”

This was sung to the tune of “Home on the Range”, while people barfed rubber bands through their noses. I don’t want to visit there anymore. I’ll never use rubber bands again. Don’t ask me to go there, because the dogs change their underwear with the lights on.

When we got home, we discovered that the new tires were now in complete control of the TV. All they wanted to watch was “The Jetsons”; and they peeled out all over the brand new raisins. “O my God, I can’t believe you don’t know the answer to this!”, they hollered. So Poable yelled back, “You jempergleens! Do you mean to tell me that a glandular disorder can actually issue traffic warnings? There’s a big cruncher out here with your names on it; and I’m not eating until that woodchuck quits picking his nose! Take his new pajamas away so he won’t try anything funny!” The woodchuck took great offense to this and tried to drown his sorrows with Twinkies and tomato juice.

By this time the reader must be a bit apprehensive. If this is supposed to make any sense, my goat is a sump pump. Well, of course this is not supposed to make any playdoh out of broken clocks. But if things are fun to read, people may be inclined to forget that they left their hairballs in the pizza mix. Life could become more cro-naybley! Glue could be served to science teachers as a nutritional supplement! Real value could be found in small pies! Planetary travel could really be screwed up! At best, laughter would fill the 5-gallon conatiner. Maybe even the container! Ispelgudyup!

Ever wonder what would happen if your typing fingers got lost from “home row”? It would probably lppf sd ig yhr eotfd ertr noy mskinh drndr! ;p. look as if the words were not making sense! ;p.

Always smiling, the two Smiggs (Remember those two Smiggs? This is a story of two Smiggs!) landed with a thump on top of the Empire State Building. They looked over the view and stared at each other, shaking their floaglits. Mogney asked Bloonk,”Whoa! Don’t these people know how to lick their eyebrows? We’ve been here for three biggles now and I still can’t read their fire hydrants!” “Maybe they are deaf, and can’t see us waving our teeth at them”, replied Bloonk. “Ollee ollee, oxenfree!” Mogney yelled, honking his boadler as hard as he could.

“Listen here, you boadle honker! We can’t act as if we own the place! I mean, the yellow pig food is really starting to agree with my outlook on life,” said Bloonk. Having said this, he and Mogney jumped from the top and ran to the nearest bystanders. The poor folks took one look at them and began reciting every Devo song they knew. The Smiggs tapped their dretzels to the beat and hummed along just as loud as they could. Very shortly a policeyman arrived and asked them all what the @#$% they were doing. They politely stole his hat and made funny faces at him; and offered a chance to win a shiny new dime for guessing the best soup in the world. The policeyman said thank you very much, but he had already had enough wood particles for one day.

Now, if you look closely at the facts, you will surely notice ants in your undergarments. Disturbing as this may seem, many cultures are now changing their approach to fried hammer handles. Long lists of edible plastics have been sent to the local governments, but the representatives still insist that it would be better to shovel candles into a small motorcycle than to tax the bug doo-doo upon which we walk. They seem to think that by grinning when folks belch, a new and more receptive attitude can be cultivated in the inner regions of crayon boxes.

For myself, I have always known that zebra mussels are very yummy in cake. Proving this has not been easy; but when I have friends over for tea and slobberfood they smile sheepishly and say “What’s crunchy?” When I tell them they are snarfing down thousands of little zebra mussels in each bite, they say “O” and excuse themselves out the door very quickly.

I’m quite certain they are rushing home to make their very own Moobi-Moobi!

Thank you very much, O-K!

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My Grandiose Plans For Retirement

I may have accidentally announced my plans to retire in March of this year. That’s only a few milliseconds away!! That’s what happens when you get older… instead of days, months, and years, your life begins to zoom around in milliseconds. For example, our oldest grandson was born 11 milliseconds (years) ago this month!!! How can this be??? Yes, I understand very well that frogs lke to say that “time’s fun when you’re having flies.” Still, this time zoom is a very harsh reality for gentle people like us.

So what was I talking about again?? Oh yeah, retirement. Yes. I’m gonna retire soon. And lots of folks are asking, “whatchya gonna do?? Any plans??” That’s when I mention that I’d maybe like to sell some of my writings to various publications. Then I get this puzzled look, very similar to when a dog tilts its head toward the stereo speakers because it hears something weird from a Pink Floyd song. “Well,” I explain, “when I was laid off back in ’92, I worked for a small newspaper for a while. Didn’t pay much but I had lots of fun. I was thinking about switching careers from technology to writing, but it became obvious that my family would have to survive on beans and rice for a long time before I got established.’”

Nice dream though.

I have other grandiose plans too, which I believe will (not) be much more successful. Here are some that I’m completely (un)certain will produce great wealth and fiddle dee dee:

1 – Gotta take all those soda bottles and cans back and collect the deposit. Maybe I’ll wait till summer and take my bicycle… pick up more along the way!! As my wife likes to say, “ten cents is ten cents!!”

L – I thought about selling my body to science, but then I learned that you have to be dead first. I’m not sure how I would be able to spend all the money I receive when I’m dead, unless I can figure out a way to be dead while I’m alive. I’ll have to noodle on that one a bit.

9 – When friends come to visit, I’ll stage some impromptu “living auctions.” That’s a term I just made up which entails selling household items to the highest bidder during meals. This activity will not only fatten my wallet but will also give my friends the unique opportunity to own some of the most collectible West Michigan artifacts (many of which are actually made in China).

G – Two words: Used Food. So simple, right?? I saw this referenced what seemed to be a very nicely maintained truck, so the market for used food must be very strong. On the back of this rather attractive vehicle was a nice slogan in large print: “Dealers In Used Food.” Must be a hot deal because this appeared to be a rather successful septic service company. So like, these guys are making money on food after it’s been eaten!! Pure genius.

26 – I’ll become a quick change artist. “Hey buddy, you got two tens for a five??”

and finally (for now):

4K – I’ll bottle up some of our fresh country air and sell it to city slickers. With all the pollution controls being abandoned these days, this idea just might take off.

Anyway, one thing I think I’ll really do during retirement is have more Cake.

I really like Cake.

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