TOUCHDOWN!

October 11, 2011

In a ZFL (Zombie Football League) game played last night pitting the Los Angeles Ghouls against the New York Undead, the ref signals touchdown when the ball and a few identifiable body parts of Undead running back Barry Graves land in the end zone.

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THE STYLISH POTATO

October 10, 2011

The stylish potato gazed at his image in the mirror. Admiring what he saw, he flicked a mote of dust from his perfectly tied cravat. “You’ve still got it, you handsome devil,” he remarked. Whistling, he donned his top hat, took up his cane, and exited the room, blowing a final kiss to the handsome […]

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WALKING STICKS MEET

October 9, 2011

Walking sticks meet to plan the overthrow of the loon.

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A SENTENCE BY JAMES CLAVELL

October 8, 2011

The gale tore at him and he felt its bite deep within and he knew that if they did not make landfall in three days they would all be dead. The first sentence of the Prologue to Shogun, 1150 pages of tiny print. Will the loon be able to read the entire thing, and if […]

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CARTOON FRIDAY 123

October 7, 2011

“All right, Mr. Smartypants. You and me. Noon tomorrow. Dance off in the gym.”

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SYLVIA SIDNEY KWIZ ANSWER

October 6, 2011

It’s ‘d’. Her card games were the stuff of legend, mythic, I tell you. Just to give you the general idea, nearby hospitals scheduled extra staff in advance. And brother, I ain’t kidding.

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THE SYLVIA SIDNEY KWIZ

October 5, 2011

To supplement her income during the Great Depression, Sylvia Sidney: a. charged doctors for the use of her X-ray vision. b. built art deco chicken coops. c. punched cows on an Oklahoma cattle ranch between pictures. d. invited Alfred Hitchcock, a notoriously bad card player, to her weekly all night poker games. e. raised and […]

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DREAMING TO BE A SMALL CEZANNE

October 4, 2011
Tags:

a small cezanne is lots of fun a small cezanne is better than none a small cezanne i’d like to be and charge per view an exorbitant fee

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OCTOBER

October 3, 2011
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THE FRAIL MITTEN

October 2, 2011

The frail mitten, threadbare, a hole in her thumb, unraveling at the wrist, staggered through the black night cruelty of an ice storm. Collapsing against the door of an inn, she managed three feeble taps before fainting away to slide down a smooth path of delirium toward death. Fortunately, a burly wren hopping by noticed […]

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