The Daily Fix

A hunt for the Eber we went spreading our splendid animals for verges had we the fat camels accompanied from the priests Who fled, long dressed in the clothes and in the white of diversion of powerful Eber way the camels in frights as the animal roared! Remove the camels, which we did and on our feet danced we for into its rage of the Eber our way throwing you its darkly looking volatile view. The Eber gave pursuit and galloped strongly and to monk Lawrence, filled with pig fat traps you and makes you available the creature with a taste of the weighty predigers! And you long into the night, which we flew the Eber grew, as we also tiredly approached the smart devilish thing and to it hurled our trousers! The animal humbled, gotten to the soil and of it partook we a celebration as suddenly we a clay/tone did not hear we expected the few The king, rolled up in the Latexgruen step of its Denim hiding place drilling and in the mannersism rather obszoen it free area in an educated manner, which its role was Fame to wanting pool of broadcasting corporations! Once and future king! It devoured the animal, while the bells of the joy schellten!

The title of this post could be taken in many ways: is it the first post of June, or simply commemorating the first day? Or, perhaps it is simply saying, “the first, to you, from June.” I don’t know really what I’m typing until it is to late, I am afraid. However, I do know this: it has been too recent since my last post, and too far inbetween them if I leave it off today. So, a quasi-post of poetical proportions:

I know that June is much a month

of spring and hope and joys

and in the time of June this month

one frightens little boys.

with sticks and masks and large black dogs

and candy in the vans

one doesn’t have to beat on logs

to feel like one’s a man.

one must scare the children small

and springtime it will be

this was the state of things, after all,

when this happened to me.

SOM LIKE IT UP AND DOWN

I LIKE IT SIDE TO SIDE

EVERY MORNING EVERY NIGHT

KEEPS YOU NICE AND WHITE

Dan: What is the difference between a rectal and an oral thermometer?

Peter: I do not know. Tell me, Dan.

Dan: The taste! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Peter: You’re an ass, Dan.

KILL FOREIGNERS

MAKE CASH

HAVE FUN

AND SLEEP OVER WITH OTHER MALE NATIONAL GUARDSMEN

A poem, then, to entertain our readership and simultaneously stress the molasses-like motion of my mental synapses:

 

A tired blogger, one must feel

Is not in touch with nothin’ real

He sits and hits his head with keyboard

And when waking, making me bored

A tired blogger is no good

In his friendly neighborhood

All he does is sit in chair

With his drool ,and vacant stare

I am a tired blogger, yes

To this one sin I must confess:

A tired blogger’s not so witty

Although it’s then that they’re most pretty.