I had no clue what to do with today's collection of blasfomys. And then ... that ubiquitous little lightbulb in my head came on. "Make 'em write!" it
Here are your words:
immedetly
subterrainian
parinoia
relashionship
condem
wittness
contirbute
poisoness
desentitize
And here's the first paragraph, thought up with no thought whatsoever, by moi.
If I were prone to parinoia, I think I would contirbute for a while and then gather my wits about me and bear wittness to what I see as a subterrainian relashionship between a witless male and a poisoness. It's not enough that she tongue-lashes him a hundred times a day and then starts all over again. No! Then Miss Pit-Viper must condem him to the hell of unprotected sex another two hundred and three times a day and lash him upside the head with her purse. Alas, he won't last that long considering the arsenic smoothies she's feeding him. Humph! The dolt. I suppose he must be a desentitize because he just stands there, staring at her cleavage and grinning like the village idiot. I dream of immedetly lashing him myself. And I wouldn't bat an eyelash. Contirbute that!
Happy Thursday!
3 comments:
Jethro winked at Dazey May.
Parinoia immedetly filled the air.
He didn't want no dad burned relashionsip, but as God was his wittness, he wanted to explore the inner most subterrainian reaches of her drawers. Man he wanted to pester that girl, but he couldn't afford to buy any of those fancy condems, and he didn't want to catch any of them thar cooter poisoness. So he went home and drowned his sorrows in some freshly distilled White lightnin. he neeeded to desentitize his achy needs. *hic*
It shames me to admit my relashionship with the subterrainian condem. I blame it all on parinoia brought on by poisoness gas that did indeed contirbute to my being immedetly desentitize about all such things. As God as my wittness I will never go without a subterrainian condem again!
Y'all have made me laugh with these paragraphs. Thank you!
You've put a whole new slant on angst with your paragraph, Galen. I'm actually feeling sorry for the poor unfulfilled Jethro. Maybe he'll have better luck with Miss Jane. Let's hope so!:-)
There's angst -- and pathos -- in your paragraph, too, Roxan. I can feel the pain of the poor parinoia person who cannot achieve satisfaction for lack of a condem. Actually, I'm thinking we should collaborate on a whole piece on the phenomena of these mysterious subterrainian condems.:-)
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