For the record, I love baby wombats.

There are many kinds of people in the world. Some of them are so intelligent they can tell you the difference between kicking something and moving it with your foot, while doing calculus with one hand and solving world hunger with the other.
Then...there are people like me. Well, I'm not like this all the time, but I did the most stupid thing I've ever done in my life last night, and I'm willing to share it with you here.
It all started with a malicious case of the hiccups. The hiccups themselves weren't quite so malicious as their intent was. Or however that works. So, like a good little girl who doesn't want to be jumping and shrieking and spasming all over the place, I went to the kitchen and got a cup.
There was a bottle so very innocently sitting on the counter, that said "Mango Nectar" on it. It was red and kind of thick, so I thought it was a concentrated blend or something like that of mangos and that. I smelled it, and the first thing that I thought was, "It smells like pizza sauce!" However, things like durian smell awful and (supposedly; this is the part I'm still sceptical about) taste good, so I tried it. I licked a drip in the glass, and it didn't taste like much, but I don't know why and I didn't give it any thought. I put a bit of the stuff in the mango nectar bottle into my glass - glop - with a bit of apple juice and a bit of orange juice. I had to mix in the "mango nectar" stuff with a spoon. At that point, I was expecting something extremely good, and hiccup-killing.

Sip.

IT WAS THE BLOOD OF A BABY WOMBAT. I RECOGNIZED THE TASTE IMMEDIATELY.

No, it wasn't. Getting back to what really happened...

EEWWWWW. I looked at the bottle as if it had just eaten my pillow. The hiccups weren't gone, though, and I didn't want to waste my drink, so I held my breath (same thing as holding your nose, minus the...well, minus the holding your nose part, but that's not the point - the important thing is that I couldn't taste it) and gulped the rest down after realizing that it still was gross after trying to dilute it with more juice and then some water.
I went to my mom afterwards and told her, "That mango nectar stuff is gross! Don't get it again! Ugh!"
She looked at me quizzically, and said, "We're out of mango nectar."
"Then what was in the mango nectar bottle?" (Panic, panic, panic)
At this point, she was trying not to laugh. TRYING not to laugh. "Janine, that was ketchup."
"...It didn't SAY 'ketchup' on it!"
Then, later when I was telling my dad, he looked at me funny and said, "Oh, I was wondering why there was ketchup at that bottom of the glass."


Am I moronic or moronic? Well, I guess I'm a kind of entertaining moron, but...boy, was it awful.
My pride, sanity, and IQ are probably all hitchhiking to Nashville to make a career in country music now, but I won't miss them. Bumpkins.


Let's celebrate! Full round of ketchup juice on me at my place!

argyle penguin?

It's me again. If you haven't figured that out by now, I'm most likely going to hunt you down and burn your socks like there is no tomorrow. Bwee.
So, ThaReeza (RHYMES WITH PIZZA) hasn't blogged since my last post, and this place was getting dusty. So, possibly blowing the dust into your eyes, I'm going to do something new. Like fantasizing about stepping on Christopher Columbus's shoes when he wasn't looking and/or not wearing them at all. Because it would be pretty weird if I stepped on his shoes when he wasn't wearing them and just staring at them.
Although he couldn't because he's dead, technically. Well, DEATH NEVER STOPPED ME BEFORE! MY PANCREAI ARE INVINCIBLE!
(Pancreai. [Pan-Cree-Eye.] Pluralized version of pancreas, simply because I thought that pancreases wasn't as interesting a pluralized version of pancreas as, for example, hippopotami is for hippopotamus. Not that I have more than one...at least inside me. Except for the one that I ate. I've said too much.)
...
Skibbleblark: Ow, my head. Who...? Where...? Egads...it's you...
Me: HELLO!
Skibbleblark: Not you again! Do you know much therapy -
Me: (Pulls out a pair of tongs)
Skibbleblark: I need to go home. I want to go home.
Me: This is your home now. (Walks closer to Skibbleblark. Slowly. According to ThaReeza I can have a very scary look on my face sometimes. I wouldn't know. Maybe this one would be particularly menacing.)
Skibbleblark: (Points at my forehead) Look! ...Me spleen!
Me: Tangerine-shaped bumblebee.
Skibbleblark: Let me out.
Me: Tangerine. Shaped. Bumblebee.
Skibbleblark: Calm down, calm down. Now, if I can just feel around this...blog room...or whatever it is...and find the exit...

Bonk!

Me: Bonk? Twee!
Skibbleblark: Bonk?
Me: The ship!
Skibbleblark: The ship?

What will happen next? Will anything happen next? If only I knew. The adventures blunder on!




Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring BANANA PHONE...

love, and the stomach flu, are in the air.

So the corporations are wishing you a happy Valentine's Day, eh? They're hoping that you'll get one of each of their plutonium byproduct-dyed squishy things so you can give them to your significant blubber and then...I don't know, you can go dancing in the moonlight gnawing wheat and thinking of sushi.
The red and the pink and the ohdeararethoserealarrowsthatcupid'sshooting? strikes me as discomforting, actually. It's worse than, for example, hobbits doing the YMCA dance (The Shire People!). You just can't see them doing that after fighting so hard to dispose of the ONE RING TO RULE THEM ALL that they would just break out into song. The world is much too sombre most of the time with all these horrible things to make one day simply focused on the feelings that we have for one another when really...
a) It's easier, and more fun, to be cynical about it (as I am), and
b) Why do we just love each other this one day? It strikes me as hypocritical, like hugging a cow when you so knowingly ate its relatives' flesh. Love is for torturing one another all year round, people.

Beaver eight, beaver nine. Stop - it's snippet time. (Doesn't work? Eh.)
The bank robber followed the salesman out into the parking lot and into the car. "I swear! You'll love it! I really can't believe it's not Cupid flesh!"
"AGH!" screamed the salesman. "The irony! Oh, the irony!"
As the smiling donkeys drew bananas on each others' ears, they realized that the only sandwich that could solve the ham bludgeoning was the sandwich of LOVE.
Well, it was the sandwich of LOVE and VARIOUS DISEASES, but it was almost the same thing.
"I wanna hula," said the gosling.
"Doop," sang Johnson, who was simultaneously standing on his head and playing a snipped-up accordion.
The smuldger said hello, and then they all receded into the darkness until the next post.

[Insert fish body part here. Not fin, because it's been used. Oh, I know. Tail. That's better.]

Humphrey Bogart pictures unite to scream "Green"

Sorry I haven't posted in a vile. I mean, while, but because of ze sveedish accents ve are not alloved to say the letters w and j. Instead eet iz v and j as in ya!

Oh my goodness, I cannot remember J9‽'s snippet, although I do remember it not having to do with me being a rehab student!! *glllaaaree*

Watch this, I command theeeeee. CATS
It is veree funny, ja???

Okay, Garbled munchkins are destroying all of the orange sandwiches. So Me and my flowerpot went to hide from them, because my flowerpot, also named Johnson is hilghly addicted to orange sandwiches.
So as we hid under the GREAT GIANT TORTOISE MUG with Johnson nibbling his sandwiches, we heard the garbled Munchkins, now smelling out Johnson's sandwiches.
"Let it go, Johnson" I said. "Who knows what they'll do to you?"
"NOOO!" So I threw it away from him. I held him back as he tried to struggle away.
"Oh yea? Well, I'm your father!"
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" I screamed, as Johnson approached his sandwich. Then, as the munchkin came up, he shoved into his flowerpotty mouth. The munchkin began to cry, and stepped on Johnson's flowerpotty toe, and ran off.
'Problem solved"
"That's why I have a desire to say 'fabokamooooopsy' on groundhog day"
Then we both danced the polka 'till we couldn't dance no more.
Fin.

aardvark-shaped guillotine!

Goodness me an aardvark-shaped guillotine would be weird-looking. I mean, would the "aardvark's" jaws be the part with the blade? Or...never mind.
Thankies to ThaReeza for the last post, it was enlightening. It also showed that, yes, she DOES exist! (Steph, the lone commenter thus far, thought that it was a ruse just because...well, I'm me.)
ThaReeza brought out the funniest part of me out into the open where it could fend for itself in the land of the Wolves of the Jokes that Fall Flat on their Faces, but I've started to scare them away a little more with my other blog entries, which I might put here! Jubilation! I approached ThaReeza originally seeking a voice teacher because she is so awesome at that kind of performing thing in general, but then we got to talking and she cracked me up and we made drama character profiles of people with friendly dismembered noses and the rest is slightly bloggable history.

Now let's get this blog entry warmed up, shallies?

When the mongoose leapt from the zamboni, I knew that it was trouble - big trouble. For example, it was holding one of those guns that shoot bad clichés at you like gelatin. Also, it was masked and was foaming at the mouth.
"There ain't no room in this town fer de both'a uss," it said to me.
I stopped asking random passersby if they had spare cantaloupes. "Are you a turkey or are you a SPONGE?!"
It proceeded to pull little berries named Wanda out of its manpurse. The mongoose clearly was not happy about being a dingo eye, but then came out a sauna.
It was a big sauna.
"Hey, Larry, I was wondering if you wanted to go grab a fottie (ha ha fattie) quesadilla with me?"
"You rock star squirrel!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!"

Such was my story segment. Now I'm going to type more.
There is no such thing as a grand green yuppie, because all of the little hippies don't like the way that they sing about alcoholic Smurfs. (Smurves?) It's not that they don't like the "GREAT MERCIFUL CRAP-SHIT!" of Chef Brian; it's just that they think that "ECHIDNA" would fit more easily in the "I ARE PANT" phrase.

BERT! FETCH ME MY MOP!

You never know just who is waiting beyond your door, particularly if you're sitting on it and lying with a possibly electric eel in your eye...I hug thee, mango!

Now to announce...dun duh duh duh duh duh duh DUUUUNNNNN!!

Hey-ho and Hawwo's!!! My name is ThaReeza and I thank J9‽ for starting up the block. Blog. Ruff.

So you've seen what our life is like so far(the last block). Now to talk about myself...no....well..., now that I'm here I should do something, no? I mean, I even wonder if anyone is going to read our block(my new name for it by the way) so is there a point?.....YES!!!

As Jess Jordan would say: Don't eat my boyfriend's retinas!!! wait...no, that's our version.

If Godzilla was so amazing, then Arnold the flea must have had quite a fan club. Too bad about the accident with the toothbrush and canned mushroom soup. I know that mushroom soup and Valoodevin don't mix, so mushroom and a toothbrush must be horrible.

Ah yes. Me. You have seen J9‽'s side, and now me. Right? My mind goes into little blanks shouting names at me with a horrible violence. "Talk you twinky! Eat those mindses brainy thingies!" Of course you must have noticed my brain is not too advanced.

For one thing to say: I collect paperclips.

For another thing to say: Barry Pooter will win among Harry Potter. As well as Girl, Nearly 17, My boyfriend is Gay, both written by J9‽ and myself during "drunken" nights.

Okay. Me, me, me, me, me. I have not always been random, yet after meeting J9‽ in grade eight we have become inseperable buddies of randomness. I became more random at the end of grade seven, so once I met J9‽ and became friends with her she envoked it all, making it grow to the size of the gigantic marshmallow size that it is today. I am the bestest of randomness when I am hyper. J9‽ usually says how funny I am, yet I believe we are equally matched.

Gurk! I can't hold it in any longer. Must...be.....RANDOM!!!
I mean, why else cam the cow eat it's own fur and see spirits at the same time? The doorknobs of hell have always been suspicious! J9‽'s cannibalism has seperated me from my cat for psycology reasons, what with that whole fork accident and the glowing plunger exercise.

"Ho-ho?" cried the wagon from across the street. It had it's needle in one hand.
"What?" It was the grouchy thaReeza, waking up from a 45min nap.
"I'm making sure that you remember your medication! As a rehab student you--"
"How can you be a student anyway? You just attend "Rehab" and take placeboes all day!"
"As I was saying, you're medication!!!!"
"Well, you smell like fortyfive Oh Henry's!!"
"Take it, you...Flamingo kidney!!!"
"Oh? Well, %^&*@@@#%$^!!"
"How can you speak At sign, percentage, asterix and etc so quickly?"
"I'm a Rehab STUDENT!!!"

And now to J9‽ to continue this story. This is a rather common thing to do in e-mails we send eachother. That was how Girl, Nearly 17, My boyfriend is Gay started. We sent eachother random messages andthey usually turned to stories, and we had to continue on. So enjoy my little snippet.

Valoodevin ate a pickle so help me I'm a SHEEP!

a-bloggy bloggy bloggy bloggy, ja. MUSHROOM MUSHROOM!
Let-a me explain this entry. At lunch we were all talking about...well, that's just it. This is a transcript of the funny stuff that happened. It's not complete because it's not like anybody could dictate that fast what everybody was saying, but it's the complete list of funny things that people said. Enjoy. Or if this is too random and you don't feel like enjoying it, then please proceed to burn your own socks.
Oh, right, and this would be useful. T stands for ThaReeza, who will be shortly joining this blog; J stands for me, of course; M stands for Mei-Mei, our friend; V stands for VAAAAloooDEVVVVVon, a hobo who likes to eat with us; and MM stands for Melissa, an unfortunate passerby who was prompted to say something random.
Fun! Here we go.

T: Yep. I really like bagels. Write it down. Owww.
J: Mops are the FOOD OF THE DEEEAAAD.
T: Do they have bagels?
J: We look like HOBOS OF THE DEEEAAAD.
T: Do they have bagels? Come to the dark side! We have bagels...and T-shirts!
V: ...But the bagels aren't fresh...
J: ...And the shirts are ugly colours!
T: AAAAGH!!
M: (sings) I want a hippopotamus for Christmas...
T: You know, I really like bagels. SHUT UP WITH THE PICKLES ALREADY, says j9‽. (note: that isn't a typo. She wanted me to write that down as if I said it, but I didn't. Also, I'm using usernames/aliases here to protect the victims...I mean, the...participants. Yes.)
T: Slurp, slurp. (Waggles juice container) Poke.
M: There was a guy who broke into my mom's house. He stole ice cream!
T: AAAAGH!
J: YOU ATE ELMO?! (Bats VAAAAlooooDEVVVVVon's juicebox)
T: Aha. Aha. You batted it away.
J: Aha. Aha.
T: Your hair is really long.
J: It is.
T: AAAAGH!
J: Sexy cheese...
Everybody stares awkwardly at their pinky nails.
T: Dooble dooble doo...cheese.
J: Indecent exposure!
T: Yes. (Does the macarena)
V: Ducks are round.
T: Cyber duck? ..Weeeh. VAAAAlooooDEVVVVVon EATS CHEWY MILK!
J: Let's hurl pigs at the opposition!
V: Glory to the kingdom! Vaaaaloooodevvvvvon.
T: Fondue VAAAAlooooDEVVVVVon? Ooh...
T & J: Eugh.
J: Let's jab strawberries at him! Und raw meat!
V: Be careful now or the caesar salad will make you fot.
M: Fat.
T: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Fot fot fot. Do you vant to see my knife?
J: (Clapping with every "he") Ehehehe. Fire.
V: Teddy bears are FLUFFY!
J: Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer. Hi grandma hi grandma.
T: Jiggity with it!
M: Group hug! (Hugs T & J) (To V) No group hug for you.
T: (To V) (Throws garbage at V) Can you throw this out?
V: We make kitchen.
J: YOU ANTAGONISTIC TURKEY MAN!
T: EXCUUUUUUUUUUUUSE ME!
V: That was so seventies.
T: AAAAAGH
J: Whoop.
T: Whoop.
J: Whoop.
T: Whoop. Ow!
MM: I want my gecko! Uh, uh, tow truck!

Thus ended our dialogue. I think that anything that may have been useful in understanding this for one of you "normal" folk was probably said while I (or ThaReeza) was furiously writing, so your glimpse into our world probably left you twitching.
Enjoy your seizure! Do you want fires with that?

(Did you notice that I said fires instead of fries? Bwahahaha.)

flying ambergris

Greetings.
As Chef Brian once wisely said, "Napalm is nature's toothpaste."
Otherwise, this is our new blog. It is ours and we will post on it whatever we feel like. This means that we are going to put all the random stuff that we want on it and you can't do anything about it.
Well, technically, you can by not reading it. Anyways.

Confused reader (you, heretofore known as Skibbleblark): What? Where am I? Who are you?
Me: Shhhh. I've dragged you onto the blog so that you can ask questions.
Skibbleblark: That doesn't make any sense. Ooohhh, my head...
Me: Well, you didn't come voluntarily, so what was I supposed to do?
Skibbleblark: You crazy -
Me: Yes, we are crazy.
Skibbleblark: We? I only see one person. Who's we?
Me: Well, I just made the blog.
Skibbleblark: So...your friend is coming later?
Me: Yes. Thank goodness for assumed half-baked telekinesis to get the post along. I don't know her username yet but she'll be coming. Oh, yes, she'll be coming.
Skibbleblark: ...So, what is your blog for?
Me: Shamelessly promoting Dorthur and Arthis, Barry Pooter and the Temple of Wienies, you know, that sort of thing. If we find something funny, you might just find it here.
Skibbleblark: Are you a cannibal?
Me: Next question.
Skibbleblark: ...Okay then. What's an interrobang?
Me: Assumed half-baked telekinesis strikes again! It's the little piece of punctuation after my username, a ‽. For best results (and this may very well apply to everything on here), don't ask. Or check on Wikipedia. Wikipedia knows everything...
Skibbleblark: ...I see...can I go now?
Me: Shoo. I don't want to have to feed you.

Thus ends probably the most rational blog entry that you're going to find on here. We're going to have fun.

Squidge blue fodder mango gilded argonaut! Tweeeeeee.