Gazpacho.
Achoo.
Gazpachoo.
When you sneeze and cold tomato soup comes out your nose.
Veggies.
Gesundheit.
Veggesundheit.
Showing posts with label nose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nose. Show all posts
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Nostrillionaire
Nostril.
Trillionaire.
Nostrillionaire.
The technical title for whoever discovered and marketed cocaine.
Pretty innovative, really.
Before, no one had considered the nose as a viable entryway for fun.
Now, it's synonymous with partying.
Imagine what breakthroughs we'll see when a genius like this discovers the ear.
Cocaine.
Inner Ear.
Cocainner Ear.
Trillionaire.
Nostrillionaire.
The technical title for whoever discovered and marketed cocaine.
Pretty innovative, really.
Before, no one had considered the nose as a viable entryway for fun.
Now, it's synonymous with partying.
Imagine what breakthroughs we'll see when a genius like this discovers the ear.
Cocaine.
Inner Ear.
Cocainner Ear.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Desparagus
Despair.
Asparagus.
Desparagus.
The horrible feeling your nose feels when your body eliminates an asparagus meal.
Smelly.
Leave.
Smelleave.
Asparagus.
Desparagus.
The horrible feeling your nose feels when your body eliminates an asparagus meal.
Smelly.
Leave.
Smelleave.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Atlantissues
Atlantis.
Tissues.
Atlantissues.
You have to sneeze.
But the Kleenex are nowhere to be found.
Absent.
Scented.
Abscented.
You know you bought some. You have evidence.
A receipt. A bag from the store.
But no sign of the actual items.
Clues.
Useless.
Cluseless.
Not that it's a huge deal. You could use toilet paper, or a paper towel, or a napkin, but you shouldn't have to.
It's the principle of the thing.
Capitalism might not be perfect, but it's all we've got right now.
And you spent the money. Where did the Kleenex go?*
You start to cry.
Great.
Now you need even more Kleenex.
Mystery.
Teary-eyed.
Mysteary-eyed.
* Answer: beneath the ocean, stolen by fish-people from Atlantis.
They also have all the socks that went missing from your dryer.
(They can't even use any of these things.
They just take them out of spite.
Because they don't have what we have, and they want it.
They want to be where we are. Walking around on those, what do you call them, feet.**
Or maybe they just want us to stop dumping our pollution on top of them.
And eating their friends and Jamaican musical instructors.)
** That's what they want the socks for. Wishful thinking.
Laundry.
Dreams.
Laundreams.
Which makes them cry and need the tissues.
Tissues.
Atlantissues.
You have to sneeze.
But the Kleenex are nowhere to be found.
Absent.
Scented.
Abscented.
You know you bought some. You have evidence.
A receipt. A bag from the store.
But no sign of the actual items.
Clues.
Useless.
Cluseless.
Not that it's a huge deal. You could use toilet paper, or a paper towel, or a napkin, but you shouldn't have to.
It's the principle of the thing.
Capitalism might not be perfect, but it's all we've got right now.
And you spent the money. Where did the Kleenex go?*
You start to cry.
Great.
Now you need even more Kleenex.
Mystery.
Teary-eyed.
Mysteary-eyed.
* Answer: beneath the ocean, stolen by fish-people from Atlantis.
They also have all the socks that went missing from your dryer.
(They can't even use any of these things.
They just take them out of spite.
Because they don't have what we have, and they want it.
They want to be where we are. Walking around on those, what do you call them, feet.**
Or maybe they just want us to stop dumping our pollution on top of them.
And eating their friends and Jamaican musical instructors.)
** That's what they want the socks for. Wishful thinking.
Laundry.
Dreams.
Laundreams.
Which makes them cry and need the tissues.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)