Stink's page

♫♪ "Close your eyes, Cal
Look inside, Cal
Let the ZZZQuil take you awaaaaaay" ♫♪

♫♪ "Shia LaBeef don't like it
Rockin' the Kumquat
Rock the Kumquat..." ♫♪

>_>

<_<

♫♪ "...Actual, cannibal Shia LaBeef." ♫♪

{scratches metal speedo, practices villainous sneering}

♫♪ Potatoe eyes
They're watching you.
They see your every move... ♫♪

"Is anybody alive in here?
Is anybody alive in here?
Is anybody at all in here?
Nobody but us in here
Nobody but us.
Is anybody alive in here?
Nobody but us."

{sings:} ♩ ♬
"Is anybody alive in here?
Is anybody alive in here?
Is anybody at all in here?
Nobody but us in here
Nobody but us.
Is anybody alive in here?
Nobody but us" ♪ ♫

captain yesterday wrote:

...whatever band did Money for Nothing, those I cannot tolerate (to be fair Money for Nothing only pisses me off because such an awesome guitar riff was wasted on such a s+~&ty song)

You're down on Dire Straits plus Sting?

.

♫ ♪ Yarr moo chewing flue Slaadburrow Chair?
Horsey, phage, estuary, and mime
Dismembered tea two one mu shaves bears
Beyonce was a blue cheese of rind... ♪ ♫

♪ ♬ Don't tell the director I said so,
But are you safe Miss Gradenko?
We were at a policy meeting,
They were planning new ways of cheating.
I didn't want to rock your boat,
But you sent this dangerous note.

You've been letting your feelings show.
Are you safe Miss Gradenko?
Miss Gradenko are you safe?
Are you safe Miss Gradenko?
Miss Gradenko are you safe?

Is anybody alive in here?
Is anybody alive in here?
Is anybody at all in here?
Nobody but us in here,
Nobody but us.
Is anybody alive in here?
Nobody but us... ♩ ♫

...if you really don't want the rawhide chew treat I can always find a dachshund to give it to.

{asking peanut brain to punch above its own weight:} I believe that since the early 80s, they now prefer to be known as Nissans.

Say... has your leg ever humped with a poodle in the pale moonlight?

♪♬ Another working Monday has ended. ♩♫
Only the rush hour Hell to face.
Packed like kobolds into shiny Gygax dungeons,
Fodder for some murder hobo race.
CDP humps the wheel and stares alone into the distance,
He knows that something somewhere has to break.
He sees the poodle clubhouse looming in the spotlights,
The pain in his brain that makes his tired balls ache.
Just a few clicks away,
There's a MoMo at the door,
Of a clubhouse in the Off-Topic For
-um near a dark
Abyssal lake.
(Many planes away)
(Many planes away)
(Many planes away...) [/"Humpronicity II"; copyright 1983, The Poodlice]

{♪♬ excellent guitar and drum playing ♩♫}

♪♬ Another Internet ugly Monday ♩♫
The Jacks belching filth on Vomit Guy.
CDP walks unhindered past the landmines today,
He doesn't think to wonder why.
The slaadcretaries pout and preen like cheap b~@!~es in a red hydrant street,
But all he ever thinks to do is harf.
And every single visit with his so-called veterinarian
Is a humiliating kick in the crotch.
Many planes away,
Something crawls to the surface
Of a dark Abyssal loch.

♪♬ Another suburban poodle Monday. ♩♫
Snarky screaming at the wall.
We have to hump above the din of our dog biscuits,
We can't hear anything at all.
Miss Kitty meows her litany of boredom and frustation,
But we know all her hairballs are fake.
CDP only stares into the distance
There's only so much more that he can take.
Many planes away,
Something crawls from the slime
At the bottom of a dark
Abyssal lake.

{knocks over garbage can outside, rummages around for any non-turnip leftovers to eat}

Have no fear! I'm here - spangled tube top and all.

Hey baby, how you doing- {DC 16 Will save (1d20 - 4 ⇒ (1) - 4 = -3: fails); remains dazed by tube top of scintillating stains}

No CasuFriMo today? {sulks, steals some of CDP's pills}