12 Fabulous Days at the Bide-A-Wee Motor Court, Rahway, NJ

So the injunction has expired?

I caught butterflys and ripped their wings off so that we would be on "equal grounds" as it were. I saved all of those wings and attached them to my back and I COULDN'T GET OFF OF THE GROUND!

Well...

Obviously, I felt like a fool at that point so I returned their wings to them (super glue) but some of them were so pissed off that they wouldn't have anything to do with me. Of course I was drunk so I put the wrong wings on the wrong butterflys but it turned out that some of them actually enjoyed interracial sex and thanked me later.

Also...I put my canoe in the water. I am unable to go anywhere but I had a small trough dug in the back yard and after it filled with rainwater I put my canoe in it and I pretended that I was on the Mississippi river and headed for the Atlantic and I would paddle accross to England and court CJ.

Fantasy? Yes I know it is. CJ is far, far too young and beautiful for the likes of me.

If I didn't have those naked girls in cages in the cellar, I fear I might go nuts.

It's the butterflys. The butterflys keep me sane.

(As I said, some of them are pissed but hey...You can't please all of the butterflys all of the time...

Oh! Oh! I just thought of something else I did ths summer! I got satellite TV! I was watching the 'Discovery' channel and there was a segment on " Teradactyls on the Verge of Orgasm."! It was fascinating!

I know, I know. Prehistoric flying things do not fascinate everyone and I know that the program is pure speculation, but when that female dived off of the cliff before he was 'done'? You should have seen the look on his face/beak, whatever. It was a RIOT!

Sorry. I'm just trying to stay on topic for a change.

I went to a house. It was a nice house. My friend and I went round the house. We had sandwiches.

I poured concrete. Inside my house.

Matt? I know where you went. Cel blabs everything. It's the sandwiches that I am interested in. What kind of sandwiches were they? We need DETAILS, man, DETAILS!

еdë §téè£, bless his soul, knowing that I live on the 'net and rarely leave my chair, sent me some concrete. It was still soft so I imprinted my genitals in it and sent it back to him. I hope he appreciates my efforts. Trying to be aroused while squatting over a box of concrete is not an easy thing.

They were concrete sandwiches.

few things less filling than a theoretical sandwich.

unless your ted danson.

The platonic sandwich is theoretically very satisfying but in practice....

Unless your Ted Danson what?

Concrete.

I'm assuming that everyone is aware that there are at least a couple of connotations associated with that word. Of course I don't know what they are. I am an idiot.

I think that I encountered a concrete wall once. If I recall,I was running. Now I don't remember WHY I was running because since I hit that wall, I can't remember a damn thing. I THINK it was concrete. Heck...it could have been fiberglass.

Nevermind.

Here, here! Let's not knock Ted Danson. Before my 'accident' I made a very comfortable living as his hairpiece. Marvelous man, Ted. He still sends me cologne.

Not one of you discussed what I did on my summer vacation. I'm not surprised.

I went to my mailbox today and there was a returned package from one Mr. Zen Clown of Montrose.

Apparently he didn't appreciate my gift because it appears that he stuck a thimble or maybe his thumb slightly into the surface then sent it back. The concrete had hardened so there was no way I could work out the imprint.

After reading this thread I found out that the imprint was made by his private dangly parts and that he though it was concrete.....

If he had learned to read in first grade like almost everyone else in his class he could have been able to read the letter that I included in the package. Plus no mention was made of the bottle of whisky in the box.....

The letter stated that the package contained the creamated remains of my sainted Grandmother. I asked him to please scatter her remains somewhere in Missouri as that was her birthplace and is what she wished. The bottle was a thank you for the trouble.

Maybe the bottle leaked and wetted to the ashes which made them look like concrete and that would explain his confusion.

BUT the fact remains that ZEN CLOWN took advantage of my Grandmother by plying her with whisky and sticking his dick in her ash.

I'm seriously considering grabbing a bottle of Johnsons baby oil and heading to Missouri......

Excuse me?

I did! I shared that thing about the butterflys and such. That business about me being arrested for walking about in the park, naked, making up nasty words to "Yankee Doodle Dandy"? That was all a horrible misunderstanding. Ok. so maybe I WAS touching myself. Maybe it DID sound like "Yank my Doodle, Danny."

People misinterpret things. Is that my fault?

I DID learn a lesson: Stay the hell away from Christian picnics whilst walking naked in the park.

Oh! Oh. If you feel inclined to sing a patriotic song? Be sure you get the words right.

Oh hell. My previous post was intended to be a humourous response to Aimless and еdë §téè£ got in and messed everthing up.

I'm sorry about your Grandmother,еdë. I'm REALLY sorry that I missed out on the whiskey. If I would have known that I was fornicating with a departed loved one, I would have whispered sweet nothings in her deaf ear.

*Marty? Is there no limit to the depravity on this forum?*

I hope not. :-))

Alot of people have been asking questions around here.

Questions like:

Where exactly did your wife go? Dunno she didn't say.

When did she leave? Late one night, just before I poured the concrete inside my house.

Has she contacted you or anyone else in the family since her departure? Not that I know of.(not likely either)

What was all the screaming and yelling that the nieghbors reported that night? Dunno, I must have been asleep. I'm a very heavy sleeper.

What the hell is that smell over here in the corner of the living room? I buried my wi.... I mean some dead Lemurs there before I poured the concrete.

Then they left talking about being back with search warrents, dogs, jackhammers and such.

I didn't even remember entering any contest but that sounds like alot of nice prizes to me!

BTW...

I recently began receiving emails offering pictures and mpegs of Zen Clown dressed up as Dr. Frank N. Furter. Any ideas on how to get off of that mailing list? You know the email, it starts out with....In just 7 days I'll make you a man.

Dude?

I've got your prize...right here...*clutches crotch and winks at his semi-sentient henchman, Guido.*

Regarding those 'other issues'? Get some of those candles. I had a dead skunk in the kitchen. It "released" before I killed it. I didn't really WANT to kill it but I was hungery. I lit some of those votive candles. I don't remember how many. 200? 300? I wasn't counting. Anyway, by the time they burned down and ruined all of my tables and carpeting...I could almost see and breathe again. Of course by that time I was lightheaded from lack of oxygen.

And Dude? If you don't appreciate my pictures (and I can't imagine someone who doesn't) STOP SENDING MONEY!

You sadistic bastard...You KNOW I'm a whore!