For those who are uninitiated with Mojo Story Time, I will give you the rundown. This occurs during TexDem's most wonderful Mojo Fridays. The latest can be found here.
The premise behind the stories is that one person posts two words, then each subsequent person after posts two words on top of theirs. This is done until 4pm when the Postgame starts getting calculated, at which point I take what everyone has posted and attempt to bring some sort of symmetry to it. I often fail. But it makes for some great stories. I have saved up the past couple of months worth of stories and am now posting it for all to enjoy. This diary is simply to entertain, and has no real value what-so-ever. And as always, Happy Friday all!
The Platypus was busy trying to get his mojo on, dig out from under an inch of dust. All the Creationists who were hiding behind the antique credenza silently preparing to expose the fraud and put a saddle on the platysaur to ride into NeverNeverLand with Tinkerbell and Gandolf and Jay-zus. Cocktails for congresscritters whilst wearing suspenders and socks painted gold, diamond-covered and nothing else. Preparing for his date with a striking Alaskan Republican. But she couldn't find her pageant gown. However, she was willing to give her sash for bidding hands to the Muffin Man. So he decided to throw out the corsage. It smelled rotten, like Rush Limbaugh's evil mind jockstrap. He couldn't decide if the smell was coming from under the paper thin floorboards or his shoes or hers. Spraying Lysol on the bed without first checking for his glasses, without chich he couldn't see his special purpose. Him or the oven coming from salmon or herring. "Something's fish in the neighborhood", exclaimed the Platypus. "Quick, somebody get me my slamander suitcase or stale teabags." A party at the local motel, fundraising for the Playboy Mansion with bunnies galore. He was not pleased that they made him shave his head. However, afterwards he put on his best top hat and tails, was satisfied, felt better and started to shake, anticipating snow soon. Had better costumes. Sat on the floor singing "Pants on the ground". Supreme court with Scalia and Thomas playing piano while wearing tutus. Roberts, Alito dressed like the Village People with bad physiques. The flab was bouncing YMCA.
The snow fell onto my face as my foot sunk into the hole made by the groundhog who was basking in glory due to tricking those damned beavers into building a sled, weathermen and whether Spring was 6 weeks away or never was silent. Digging down into the river bank looking for a bridge. Green Jello slush, I dropped my pants and ran into a nearby tree. Passed out and exposed the plow yacht while floating overhead, stranded in the jungle. Meanwhile, Texas really sucks up all my bandwidth when it weighs down teh tubes, has piled so high my dog couldn't be seen from the back porch. Ceiling Cat smiled and gave orders to NOAA. "More snow NOAA!", said Ceiling Cat. Yank the darn thing out and tear down the house of cards which fell on top of old spaghetti all covered with cheese. I lost my virginity with BigLove. It buried up the evidence beneath the white blanket stained with the bright orange glow coming from nuclear lipstick on Martians and the GOS.
In 2010, Christmas was so cool...cancelled due to elves protesting their haircuts and pay cuts and paper cuts. Insurance wouldn't cover band aids let alone carpal tunnel, and uniforms which were too long, scratchy, and purple on top of tassles and bells with little gold rings in their noses. Gilt ringers and fingers, the gloves white, shiny, and slippery, glided over. "Stop all the gilt-tripping!" she explaimed. Lack of reindeer mojo from Alaska. They went to Canada by the polar bears, waited for lunch on melting fudgsicles so big that everyone everywhere drooled. Meanwhile, Putin's head exploded. Northern branch of the jet stream while Putin waved to baby seals and mooses and Canadian gooses dropped a tinfoil hat on snow sled whisked away all the paranoia in the world. Bared his massive tusks, scaring away Palinses. "Finally!" Levi said, "Free from all those crazy friggin' teabaggin' money grubbin' losers on ice." Aliens landed in Washington and began their <cough> excuse me! Now where was I? Oh yes...that tickles! Whose feather is this? But back to the story...In Washington, mysterious events led to a massive outbreak of (genuine) democracy, and began preparing for the big intergalactic confab where Yggdrasil caroused with Tiger Woods, his wingman. His wife none too soon grabbed everything in reach and started heaving and hurling while screaming expletives in Swedish. "Bork! Bork! You Dork!"
Marvin the Martian landed in trouble when his rocket went off before aiming and hit Rush and Glenn in the left buttcheek, almost missing private parts. "Close enough but no cigar". But two horseshoes and hand grenades blew up in his face, in his pants. and by the time he repaired his Martianhood, it resembled fried spam with eggs and spam to slam. Agent Mulder called Scully and they jumped into the rocketship TARDIS. Alternate space-time smoldered with pent up erotic CT, confusing Marvin who was not familiar with earthling mating rituals involving fursuits and transponders. "Erotic CT?" The clink for disturbing the monkeys at the Latino drag bar drinking mojitos and wearing banana hammocks with dignity and a side of bacon bits, fricaseed twice and coated with marzipan. "Not possible", Marvin thought. Featuring Humonga Thromba on bass playing madly at work, making minimum wage plus tips and drinks. Chuck Jones was watching, sighed deeply.
The Vikings roared while they sacked the groceries in the Circle K and pillaged the 5 & Dime while everyone gathered around the cart corral and handed out lollipops and roses to all who asked what time is the invasion party? "The I-Pod", an Iceland-bound ship, trained dragons to play naked twister with Mazola, Reddiwhip, and bacon with sprinkles on Lutefisk, hold the mayo. Bocce ball is rolling along the street heading toward financial armageddon in a handbasket. They sailed down to Nassau and Suffolk without a clue where to find pastrami on rye, hold the Sauerkraut, gently warmed by dragons with bad indigestion. Try Kat's, send a salami. In the mists of Loch Ness, the Waterhorse did backflips earning a score of 145.
Did you hear that Sarah Palin is really souless, working for all of them including Monsanto and getting cross-pollenated with stinkweed and nightshade? Reputable sources have discovered an antidote for the teabag hysteria emanating from Moose antler reduction. Mojo reduces inflamation of headgear, but only pseudo-Alaskans can wear deciduous horns. But also, Fox spews bad hair, made from noxious tripe with cream filling. Also, Sarah Palin believes giant Alaskan vegetables are stalking Barack Obama in devils driving, shoots horses with paintballs.
The turtles were watching ice dancing when suddenly their shells exploded and made a ball of flame, melting ice and causing more spectators to fall on their neighbors while yodeling, crashes into the sideboards breaking the curler's broom behind the curtain. Snowboards roasting on an open fire with a big rock used in Vancouver, watching and wishing for summer and cocktails stirred not shaken. Penguins' pizza bake dropped in quicksand and peppered bacon.
Squirrels are getting ready for their annual convention in Nashville with their teabags and their nuts in hand, cracked up over naughty ladysquirrels bearing gifts of nuts collected by osmosis to provide sustenance during the cocktail hour while everyone wet themselves after drinking too much koolaide laced with vodka and Cointreau LSD. Long winter's nap. Session of make believe outrage. Naps were encouraged but not required. Caribou Barbie dancing during hunting season demonstration of skilled evading of helicopters with reporters flown by angry moose named Bullwinkle . Quaffin mojitos accompanying a squirrel, whirled squirrel where their Wasilla pageant Queen mindlessly exposed grammar errors and syntactical horros upon unknowing and unsuspecting flying squirrels sailing merrily along the Atlantic coast. Annual financial audit of furry creatures with big egos and little ears of corn. But they're crispy when deep-fried in chocolate mojo sauce and caterpillars sauted in garlic butter, served with smoked sausage with peppers and chornichons with Poupon Grey, certainly. And tasty Moose pies were given by Sara to all who would dare to sample them at the buffet table using toothpicks smothered in hot sauce and Crisco.
And today's loverly installation
The Walrus lost his virginity at the tender age of thirty seven months while eating warm sushi and cold grape juice mixed with shark pheremones followed by 179 ounces of Guinness which caused odiferous belches in bed with eels, who wore dirndls (which are peek-a-boo) in treacle. Very sour pickles bought from the locatl Carpenter's shop. Meanwhile at Sea World in the kiddie pool with scallops in leather shell thongs, when Shamu rammed a trombone and a tuba into the breach Mojo, when someone stole from his employee locker the videos showing his false tusks and whiskers bribing Republicans.