Hoopity hoopity hello!, friends and followers. Your insouciant pal and nonchalant mentor Alvin Stomack has been all sorts of furious busy in the recording studio capturing on tape (and digital hard discus (this is the SPACE AGE, after all)) my new musical smörgåsbord ( Read more... )

November 6th...

The brobdingnagian pumpkin coach reared up and lurched forward. My hearty companions and I dived out of the way, rolling and reeling, but Miles Burger stopped short; he was only taunting us. My friends reacted instantly: Maribeth and Alain tossed their acorns from their perch on the largest bough of the old tree which secured ( Read more... )

November 6th...

The massive murder of chinchilli charged down the path to my back-forty and back deck, merf!ing and kak!ing all the way, hissing and spitting and hopping and sneezing. Many of the suitors ran at first site at this furry mob (not taking the time to denude themselves of my rightfully owned color-tuxedos, alas). The toughs that ( Read more... )

November 6th, 2006 (Monday)

"Well, you see," I said, "exercise rouses the adipose termite that lives inside our collective thoraces, and that is what makes weight loss possible."

"My goodness gracious!" Maribeth said, pumping the pedals of the six-seater tandem bicycle (a fine riding machine, though I surely miss my penny farthing that I ( Read more... )

November 5th...

""Salutations!" I greeted the Christmas Island Fantastic Trees.

"See?" Franklin Goy said. "I told you he was back."

"Well, we don't want him back!" Sixth Goalie Nikki Vein stated firmly.

"Yeah!" her cousin Paul Artery affirmed. "Ever since King Burger took over coaching, the Fantastic Trees have been kicka**!"

( Read more... )

November 5th, 2006 (Sunday)
My wooly friends and I watched the jai alai scrimmage from the bushes behind the Bilòbus Steak High School for Christmas Islanders, knee-deep in abandoned homework assignments, D.A.R.E. brochures, discarded cafeteria tacos, and hardened chewing gum. Alain and Maribeth watched in awe as Helicon 'Bacteria Pit' Ruiz executed ( Read more... )

November 4th...

Though my anger and thirst for justice was great, my singular philosopher soul was strengthened by the intense moments of pleasure Secretia and I spent watching Matlock and some classic episodes of The Patty Duke Show (identical cousins), and I felt it was the right thing to do to try to reason, to ratiocinate with my good nemesis ( Read more... )

November 4th...

They claw at my mind...

...chinchilli...

They froth and spit.

kak!

mift!

The hole in the ground...
The hole in my mind.
Absense of matter.
A spot in the path....
The path to... to perfect clownvictorypeasant.
I AM THE TECHNO-PEASANT!!!!! jug... . . . .meep ( Read more... )

November 4th, 2006 (Saturday)
It was midnight, and the shadows of the temptress moon (that firmamental orb that smiles upon my good fortunes and controls the weather) enveloped Creep Manor in darkness and light. The wrought-iron gates to the isolated mansion were locked, so I dug a hole on the east end of the manor with my t(h)rusty pickax and ( Read more... )

November 3rd, 2006 (Friday)

"You can't go in there!" Bilinda Myukuhs exclaimed from behind her desk in the Bad Daze Preschool matriculation building main office.

Think, Alvin. Think! I thought. There must be some way to distract her so that we can sneak down the stairs to see the incarcerated king. "Uh-" I said.

"Why can't we?" queried ( Read more... )