
| Quiche Lisp | 
 
	
 
                
                
              
            
            Much to its dismay, Hobbsdadolfin makes the same horrible nightmare every night: he is a blond man, lying with his legs tied on the beach of a desert island, and the ever receding tide refuses him the soothing sanctuary of the waves.
He once told its octopus psychologist about the dream ; but the slimy quack just said to him: "Your nightmare is obviously sex-related. Now, give me five !.... Muhahahaha !"
And then Hobbsdadolfin woke up, covered in sweat... except fishes don't sweat. It's a strange world we live in, my friends.

|  I'm Hiding In Your Closet | 
 
	
 
                
                
              
            
            Lucky7 has a lemon-sized irremovable benign tumor deep in his right thigh.
It is sentient, and communicates telepathically with him.
The tumor's name is Bill ("just 'Bill'"). Bill has a compassionate and caring personality, Bill is patient, Bill is kind, and Bill is there for Lucky7 when he needs it.

|  I'm Hiding In Your Closet | 
 
	
 
                
                
              
            
            Spanky the Leprechaun would totally pay to spend a day at a theme park based around the works of Andrew Lloyd Webber. He'd buy one of these as a souvenir - his mom wouldn't let him buy a Punjab Lasso...but I'm not certain: Did she really make the better choice?

| Pulg | 

| Pulg | 
 
	
 
                
                
              
            
            His eyes red-rimmed through long, sleepless nights poring through occult tomes and his soul seared and blackened by the blasphemous secrets revealed therein, Hobbsdadolfin now KNOWS that if he stands on top of the 7-11 with his underwear on his head and says the words "Manischewitz Kosher Wine" backwards 99999 times, nobody will be able to sneak up on him unawares and dip his owls in custard.

| Quiche Lisp | 
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. | 
 
	
 
                
                
              
            
            Little Skylark has collected every Olympic mascot since 1988.
Every other sunday, she takes them out of their special locker under her bed and arranges them around the table for a little tea time. She pretends they're speaking together and makes funny voices for them.
- Would you like a nice little cup of Suchong Black, miss 1990 mascot ?
- Ho no, mister 2002 mascot: I would much rather have a sip of Earl Grey with a drop of milk, if it's the same to you !
- Why, 1990 mascot ! What pedestrian tastes you have !
- Shut up, 2008 mascot ! or I will bash you in the head with the People's Republic of China's flagpole !
and so on...
 
	
 
     
     
     
 
                
                 
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
 
                
                