I went bonkers and here is what I posted::::
Cold people look gross.... I feel old right now... I don't have any milk, who's gonna share?
Got cookies??? What about fresh strawberries... mmm strawberries and milk.... like eating tuna from a can with cheese and spaughetti-o's. Who likes Spaughetti-o's and sour cream?? I like cereal, that's why I need milk. Can't have some good old grits without some type of egg laid on top of the refrigerator. Eat here often? The food is pretty gross, like that chunk of meat I saw you eat off the floor earlier last night. Stop that.
Zaney in the Brainy!!!
Hehehe... ::tag:: You're it.....
What is it anyway? Is it mineral, or vegetable, are you a cootie? Do you smell like peanut butter on a cloudy day? Is it rain, is it snow, is it edible. What does IT taste like... does it look good under a microscope how big is it? Can you roast IT Can you toast it? Do you boast about it?
Heck if I know, I'm just posting dementia here.... ::salivates::
What's the softest toilet tissue you use on your bum??
My fav. type of toilet tissue, sadly doesn't exist... it's made out of feathers and tiny drops of dew. Honeydew melon, pulled from the highest branch of the ripest and oldest banana tree. Trees are good... they give us oxygen which procrastinates in our blood stream until we expell large bubbles of stale air. Have you ever tasted stale air? The worst kind of stale air flows from the darkest reaches of flatulence from deep within the crevices of our own metamorphosising carcasses. Ever drive past the dead carcass of an animal on the middle of the road? Ever want to go back and pull it to the side, or use it as a frisbee? Why do we swerve around it? Round, a wonderful solid shape with no opening and no end... the neverending story was a great movie, but I couldn't go back for seconds, because no one gave me any milk so that I could have it with my cereal
The concluding paragraph of my life in a nutshell...
::click click click, click click click, click click click::
The tap of the keys strike deeply down into the soul of the everlasting gobbstopper which willy wonka gave me when I was but a lass curled beneath the pineapple leaf of his unending love for eternal sugar highs. I glanced up from my place in the umpa loompa's pocket and wondered how stark raving man he must be to drive the elevator to Charlie's shack. He hovered over me with his rotting gums, pulling the tendrils of my hair from the shelf above the microwave. I whispered in utter agony as he proceeded to drive the drill into my back and clutched my giant marshmallow exploding with desire to go use the bathroom. My toes tippity tapped on the guitar's neck and suddenly I was betrothed to none other than the great Ebeneezer Scrooge, who, in my mind's eye was a placard of innocent ear and nose hair. I struggled to breath behind the scarf of utter remorse, my hands shook, my teeth chattered and I licked the back of a post card removing all traces of blue cheese which I had accidentally left there upon my wild goose chase for milk. I found none, the gallon, the pitcher, liter, carton, pint, plastic straw, empty shoe, can, and even the cupboard were bare. I felt like old mother hubbard as I smelled from freshly baked cookies and had no bone to throw at the fire breathing dragon suckling on my big toe. I thought to myself as I reached for a wok to beat the infernal lizard over the head with......
I still can't find that milk... the lizard fell unconscious to the floor, the walk sounding like the first gift of Christmas. Before I knew what I'd done, good old saint nick was standing at my front door, wearing nothing but Rudolph's pelt. Disgusted, I ran up the stairs and straight into Big Bird who picked me up with his beak and carried me to Sesame Street. I hung out with Burt and Ernie, tap danced with Grover, and got to ride on Snuffaluffagas for two hours. The mammoth of a beast carried me to the merry old land of Oz where I embarked on my own journey, questing for none other than the gatekeeper. The gatekeeper released her hellhounds upon me and I ran, ran, ran as fast as could be, but unfortunately the gingerbread boy caught up to me, he pounced and I took a tumble. A tumble that was heard round the word, especially in places like Kukamunga, Transylvania, and McDonalds. Whose farm by the way, we all know had many a heifers, slaughtered daily to feed the overzealous beef eating, tomato chopping, horde of gargantuan appetites.
Tendrhrted Community Member 
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Community Member