swilled back the last of it in my martini
Thelonious Monk
"That's odd," I thought to myself, sniffing the empty glass. When suddenly...
Jiggles the Clown bounced into the room through an unopened window near the rear alley exit.
And announced to the room that this game has been done before...Twice.
Yet somehow manages to stick around for a few pages.
because he doesnt realize that you cant play the same game twice... but is sure glad some troll pointed it out..
No one goes there anymore, it's too crowded...
"The potato goes in the FRONT."
And then he put it on a bun, and he ate it. And I said, "Oh wow ..."
I suddenly notice Jiggles the Clown is female and suddenly aware how much different her attire is to that of most clowns aside from the bad wig, make-up,nose, and shoes.
Her perky bulbous nose was oddly sensuous. She slowly squeezed her bike horn in a come hither tone, making me think of taking her to a circus tent and smearing her greasepaint.
�Many things worth doing in the world had been declared impossible before they were done.� Yet I was fully aware of her horrid body odor. It smelled as if she hadn't bathed in months and rolled around on dead animal carcasses, several of which must have been skunks. But man what a big pair of floppy shoes.
It was those shoes that kept me coming back. They were like giant pizza pies on her feet. I was enthralled.
How cold i tell Jiggles of my secret, that truly, deep down inside i wanted to ....
draw pictures of rabid badgers gnawing on them shoes. The thought of it kept me awake at night. It drove my need to keep a pad and pencil close by.
One day I finally drew the perfect picture of badgers gnawing on the floppy shoes and submitted it to Deviant Art.
IT was summarily rejected something about talentless hack. I tried to call them and explain those were badgers not hacks.
But their minds were made up. Probably because someone paid them off.
Continue the story from the line of the person above you....
The smell of gasoline filled the air as I....
No one goes there anymore, it's too crowded...
"The potato goes in the FRONT."