Write a line from what would be a lousy novel
It was a dork and horny knight...also, the sun had gone down and it was raining.
"Call me Swish Male."
It was the breast of times, it was the wurst of times, but such was the life of a butcher.............
...who would cut the cheese more than he would cut the tenderloin...
As the credits rolled and the people filtered out, I looked down to the floor and counted over twenty kernels of fallen popcorn, thus beginning a year-long quest to scientifically examine what impacts society would suffer if the 'five second rule' were extended to the 'five hour rule'.
and as he sat in front of his computer in front of his half-finished novel, the author was horrified to discover someone had hacked off his hands and feet during the night.
Who had done this dastardly deed? Some guy from Montreal? Canadians all knew there was something afoot when toes & shoeless joes were washing up on BC beaches. I'm lucky thought Tony. He knew he could regenerate after being such a degenerate prior to finding Jesus at the Pig & Whistle Margarita bar.
I stared at the dime like it was a piece of ham on a string. My mind was like a Rolodex twitching in the darkness for a repentant soul. The suit I wore dictated most of my actions like a hot dog with an agenda. And that agenda was to ruin the picnic for Marco and his dinner cart of ner-do wells. My name is Chad Freebolt, and I'm the kind of hired dick you don't spread mustard on, unless you want ketchup in your relish tray. Hot dog? Sure. With a slice of justice, and a kaiser roll of "I told you you didn't want to know". The salami of truth was within my grasp. Weiner or Looser, this bun don't run ... from DANGER!
I scanned the arena until I finally spotted him, probably about 12 rows down and 20 or so to my left. I was surprised I hadn't seen him earlier as he never goes' anywhere without a conestoga wagon on his head. I worked my way down to him and as I got closer I could see he had a Sterno fire going at his feet. He was leaning over, spearing grubs with a long skinny stick and then cooking them between his feet. When I got close enough I yelled "Hey Blap!" that was his name, Blap Cranepool. He was startled and bolted upright to look at me, when he did the grub dipped into the flame and exploded all over his pants and he yelped out..because it was all steamed up and it burnt his leg and shit. By the time he finally quit barking, he turns and say's...
he says, he says to me, he says, he says to me, "I remember that day in the water the sea was really wet and stuff like a true wet that's not at all dry, like so much swimming pool with no styrofoam noodle in sight...and I began to drink...
You must have been hallucinating in the heat, I says because there WAS a noodle in the water which was extremely salty. You thought it was the sea but everyone knew you had fallen out of your deckchair while eating your Chicken Noodle soup even though salt raised your blood pressure & the sun fried your brain until I came out to fry an egg on the cement & noticed you. "Serves you right to drink that soup" Here's a fried egg that has plenty of chalk in it from when the kids were playing hopscotch with a calculator."
I just want to interject here that when I'm lying in the hot sun, the first thing I want is a good hot bowl of salty fatter chicken noodle soup. Yep.
And then clam chowder.