Wednesday, October 26, 2016
Trio
Pickles lost it. Rope and Detzy
went over there and unwedged
him from the recliner.
Detz made coffee you could stand on.
Rope sniffed then. “He smells like piss.”
“We’ll get him so he can clean himself up.”
“What happened here?”
“Jensy left him.”
“But she does that every few months!”
“This time it took. She cleaned the mirror,
and then polished it. Showed him his faults
to a fault.”
“Jesus! How cruel! What’s he mumbling about?”
“I don’t know. Cat got your tongue, Pickles?”
“A cat’ll act mean if you pull its tail!”
“He’s coming back. He’s telling us that she
took the Cadillac.”
“You should go to the UN. Be an interpreter.”
“Yeah, their shit resembles what usually comes
out of our Pickles.”
Labels: breakdown, breakup, Cadillac, friends, language, translatiion
Friday, September 25, 2015
Pope arrives in Fiat
Maybe our big shots could settle for Chevvies?
Nope. Caddys and Lincolns. Often in their monster
SUV configurations.
And reinforced, since Ay-rabs might plant roadside
bombs, or open up with AK-47s. Or both.
Why not opt for surplus General Patton Tanks?
Clank clank clank come our Public Officials!
Easy to get private money to pay.
Can still have Patriotism when expecting a little back!
Labels: Arab, Cadillac, Chevrolet, fat, Lincoln, patriotism, Patton Tank, Pope, Pope"s Fiat
