Open Letter to....

Dear gop_jeff,

I wanted to take this time to tell you that my goat has escaped and is heading for your office as we speak. If you see Sparky, please be easy on him - he's impressionable. But enough about my problems, how is your cat sniffles doing with its Genetic Modification? Why would you want to turn you cat into your lover. Don't you know that's illegal and physically awkward? Besides, Sparky is much better looking. Say I got this idea. We could breed miniature bulls and start a midget rodeo.

Events would include but not be limited to, naked midget mud wrestling, Midget tossing (to see how far the bulls can toss the midgets in the air) and, community playhouse productions of Little Women, Short Cuts, and How's the Weather Down There: the Bob LaMonta Story, featuring Danny Devito as LaMonta, the (very) little person who beat the odds and became commissioner of the WWF. Did you know that a 500 pound Walrus is head anchorwoman on CNN morning. The show "The Left and The Right" features two Kittens who get into heated political debates and then play with yarn. It's almost as cute as Me, who very often has been caught naked midget mud wrastling.... but i do go on and what i wanted to say was Said1 would never do that, she's perfect I'm a real egomaniac, I need to stop talking about myself.

Anyway, Gop_jeff, we need to talk. We all know you have a problem, and that problem is getting worse by your continued denial. You know what they say, You are what you eat. And boy, do I love to eat after mud wrestling with naked midgets, kittens, bulls, and -=d=-!But seriously, did you know that -=d'=- said that someday, when I grow up, I can replace Tom Brokaw. My only problem would be I dont have any brown pants so I'll have to wear my oatmeal hat. That hat is so big it covers my embarrassing potato shaped scar, which is on my left nostril. I got that when I was on Jerry Springer because I was chair wrastlin' with naked midgets, and practicing my midget defenestration (whatever that means) when Oliver Sudden there was this Ginsu Knife demonstration. I'll spare you the gory details, but at least I got to show my boobs and get some beads which I use to mark my distance after a good demonstration of defenestration. However, we are getting off-topic again...

Yesterday I walked into the 7-11, and you will never guess who I saw there,
there he stood, bigger than life. John Kerry! He was buying A Christmas card for some woman named Hillary. At least that was what he wrote on the envelope. I said hello to him and he responded in French. This confirmed my suspicions about him and I just smiled as he zipped up his jacket with the "World Champion Butt Snorkeller" logo on the back. Anyway, I then used this rare time when he was no longer protected by the Secret Service to give him what I always wanted to proceeded to rob the store at gun point with John Kerry's chin as a weapon, which caused him to suggest legislation to outlaw inhumane use of a grotesquely oversized chin. It sounded like a good idea at the time, only his daughter was no longer allowed entry into the US unless she was registered under the new weapons law to carry a concealed weapon and willing to wear a bag over her head. This caused him form a coalition with Jay Leno. Then his wife came in and stole my oatmeal hat, she took it and gave it to a Midget. She said he needed it more than I did in order to make him look taller. I tried to get my hat back but that Midget bit my big toe. that little bastard looked right up at me and said You must see the LIZARD! I then saw he was wearing an overcoat, I just got out of there as quickly as possible, before he pulled out "the lizard", turns out he was a porn star named after his grandfather aka" Gargantua". And his entourage was right outside. They grabbed me by the arms and made me play the fiddle, boy were my fingers dancing on the strings as they blistered and bled, alas time to move on said the police. No panhandling here without a permit. I was astounded and wanted to see if the banjo playing monkey would make an appearance but enough about Ross Perot.

I made a beeline to my house only to find that half way there I saw a sign at
Kmart. Motor oil half off...so I danced a jig to the fragle rock theme song in the parking lot. Just then a giant cracker walked up to me and his name is Jeff, and he's 6'4". I made like a baby, and headed out back towards the outhouse. I was certain to get away, at least that's what I thought. I was stalled by stepping in a pile of cheese. Although he called himself Jeff, he seemed rather non gender specific, with long red fingernails, and bright red lips, at first I was quite unnerved, but then this large Man-Woman being opened his/her mouth. Out came the most unique three pronged tongue and as I looked closer each prong of said tounge had a face; eyes, nose, and mouth. "weird" I thought, as I began to wonder if this would effect study on cooties I had participated in for several years. It was creepy and alluring at the same time. I reached out and offered the beast some playdoh. it looked at me and said DAMNIT WHY DON'T WE MAKE UP STORIES ABOUT DARIN THE BIRTHDAY BOY?!? So I said, "Just fix the damn thing and leave my private life out of it!" The beast then made a peace offering of some half chewed cheetos, so we made missiles with the playdoh and began throwing it at passers by. But I started to get a little tired of all the clowns making faces at me, so I took the playdoh and made A huge birthday cake for -=d=-, who was about to turn 50!!!!! He got mad and said that he was really only 49 with tenure, but regardless, it was time for his prune juice and Centrum. Too bad I replaced them all with ex-lax. You should have seen him run for the outhouse, but he stepped in the same pile of cheese that I did, someone should move that.

He finally started to follow somebody that looked like they knew where they were going and I was able to get away before he noticed. Moving quietly, to avoid detection, I got back to work, just in time befor the boss to tell me You're fired Fred Flinestone, Then I said "but Mr Slate you are standing on my goat sparky's best salt lick! No wonder he ran off! Just then an embittered dinosaur forced to serve as a record player decided to fly off with his best friend's wife, leaving the music-lovers in the workplace with a mint flavored toothpick in the shape of a big fat shotgun shell, that looked like Jay Leno.
That's pretty much it for tonight except you still have my Marvin Martian doll. What do you do with that thing anyway? This has got to be the third time it was stolen from my toy chest. please bring it back unharmed and cleaned. The last time I had to wash it myself and I couldn't get all that chocolate cake off his XP-32 blaster.

You know you can buy farts in a can, you know you can also open your chakras by simply winning a jalapeno eating contest but this will also burn your paranas (SP), so I would meditate before fishing in your aquarium. I also learned just the other day that Bob Newhart really IS an elf and hopes that in the future elf defenestration becomes much less of a problem. He has begun forming a coalition of short Manequines with troll like qualities and webbed hands that can climb walls and sit like gargoyles to watch over the cities of the world. He calls them his guardians of all that is righteous and he feeds them peanut butter with Bologna. They like to pick noses, but not necessarily their own so it is best to avoid them. Eventually he thinks that with them and a sack of toilet paper he can take over the world. If he can stop them from spreading peanut butter on their nipples. They like to do that and have pillow fights until they can't move anymore and they all fall on the floor and start designing dragonfighting machines with crayons and cocoa pebbles. They think that these machines will be instrumental to the death of all cartoons. They still have some bugs to work out though. They can't seem to get the needlepoint right, and some of the parts are rather rare. Especially the Stretch Armstrong toys needed for the flux capacitor. geez we could only find one of those at your house. He was intertwined with a Marvin Martian doll and stuffed into a chocolate cake. The chocolate ruined the flux capabilities so we have still been searching for a replacement. At least all those half-eaten cheetos have come in handy, we used them for Insulating our flight suits, and reclining chairs as it would be along time till we can fix our rodeo bull. I think his name is Gargantua and was somehow related to some porn star.

We just found out that Mr Jingles wasn't really a mouse but a a large trouser trout with a fatal de-attachment syndrome. We have been looking for it's rightful owner, one Mr. Quackenbush stated. It seems while he was standing in the cold with his tongue stuck to a swingset he defenestrated in his pants. An odd sight, I must say. I took out my lucky Field and Stream magazine and began to read. I found a great stream nearby in which to fish! Woohoo! I am on my way to catching the worlds largest cold. I hope I don't run into any ugly carp that's floating upside down. I'm sure the French have already pre-emptively surrendered to all freshwater fish, just in case, but it would still be fun to see them flop around on their belly.

Man if I only had a million dollars, I would begin research for a cure for ugly nose hair. I think ugly nose hair is the cause of all of all of Michael Moores insanity. He just cant seem to to find his brown troll doll collection and is upset and thinks that the NAACP is probably the culprit because Jesse Jackson has been using them as love slaves. Which reminds me, I once saw Reggie Jackson taking a crap in the middle of Times Square. I asked why he was doing that and someone told me it was because Willie Mays wouldn't. So I went in search of Willie Mays so I could find out if this was true. Along the way I stopped by a burned down barn that doubled as a strip club. It sure was cold in there. The funny thing was that all the girls were over 50 and had terminal acne. Continuing on my journey, I first tried to pick several of them up, but none of them wanted to "leave all this", they must all be lesbian, I thought to myself. One of them slapped me, I must have said it aloud.

Since none of them wanted to come along in my search for truth I told them to watch for Willie and when he stopped by to apply for a part time DJ job, he only played Polka music, but he was the best damn Polka DJ EVER. Before I walked out of the door, I stopped by the men's room. There were urinals but they had all been signed and labelled as art, therefore I could not go, so I went in the ladies room. You won't believe what I saw in there there was a line for the microwave! I had to just move on to the nearest cow pasture, which luckily was just behind the burned out barn. I met an interesting person there, also looking for a place to do her business, she was a circus midget named Kammi. Her hair was long, and made of chainmail. She was a wrestler... a midget wrestler. She liked to play the trumpet with her nose. The only thing is She was really a swinette player (note: a swinette is a cat hair stretched across a pig's ass. the player picks the hair with his teeth) of some fame and she found the transition between instruments difficult. She finally gave up and concentrated on wrestling. I suggested that her new, comeback wrestling name should be The Defenestrator. She told me to go jump in the lake and I thought "What a wonderful idea, I can even finally go to the bathroom while I am there!" She slapped me and said "don't pee in the water or the grinch will not steal a damn thing on Christmas and you will be stuck with Panty clause for the Christmas bad guy. we wouldn't want to create a world that would have Idi Amin wearing panty hose at any moment! I thought, "Crap! I guess I think aloud all the time and should be a little more careful about what I am thinking! Damn her hair looks fine with that little bit of rust on the ends!" She slapped me again and I remembered that I had forgot to take my medication. How silly of me! I should know that I always forget my meds if I'm slapped by a midget. Luckily, there is a natural substitute for my medication. I just have to find three poodles. Now where am I gonna get three poodles? I need them to lick my nostrils while I stand on my head for two hours. Maybe the burned down barn over there! What's in there might just free me from my addiction to chickens. So I headed back to the barn with the midget in tow, only to find they had all left, and I was finally able to use the urinals. Mmmmmmmmmmm urinal cakes! Well, it was getting pretty late so first I picked out the best cigarette butts then I decided to find a place to bed down for the night. I first sent miss Midget off to her mother's. I got in the car and turned on the radio. They were playing some really great tunes like "The Spike in Your Nose has Pierced my Heart", "the Itchy Bottom Twitch" and "Concrete Overshoes in my Closet". As I drove I stopped by the corner to trade those cigarettes in for Some moldy Cheetos as I needed more insulation for my spacesuit. After driving for quite a while I stopped at Bob Newhart's place, I needed one of those mannequins and about five beers. Now I was ready to find a place to sleep for the night . I finally found a relatively clean stall in the Podunk Bus station rest room where I settled in for the night. I awoke to the sound of George Michael pleasuring himself in the next stall. Odd, but the smell coming from George Michael reminded me of penguins, lots of penguins trying to fly away from the zoo. Since the memories were pleasant I decided to pleasure myself. Suddenly, the surviving members of The Village People stormed into the station and began rubbing peanut butter on their nipples. I realized that this was part of Bob Newhart's horde and decided to be elsewhere. I thought I had enough gas to get back to Bob Newhart's place, but the tank was on empty. Taking a hose from the trunk, I decided to siphon gas from The Thanksgiving Day Parade floats, they were sitting right over there and most still had gasoline in their tanks. I started on my way after eating a bag of breathmints (gas tastes like crap) but just then I remembered that Sparky was still lost. Hey has he gotten there yet? Wait just a second I have to scratch my spleen, ok where was I when I last saw that elephant in the canoe? I couldn't believe there was a marching band hiding in the television set, but I fixed them I unplugged the damned thing! If they start up again I will take out my shot gun and start blasting everyone I see. They can't all have armpit hair that long can they?

Just the other day I got a letter from PM Martin telling me that USMB is the coolest, so I said "Hell, All 13 people that live north of our border can't be wrong!" I thought I might check it out...

And here I am.

Yours Truly,

-=d=-
 

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