Veni, Vidi, Ventus --
The randomly chaotic and crafty scribblings of a deranged, wannabe artist allowed too many colours in her Crayon box.

Surgeon General's Warning: Some content of "From Pooka's Crayon" may not be suitable for: work, blue-haired little old ladies, the politically-correct, rabid moonbats, uptight mothers, priests, chronic idiots, insurance claims agents, Democrats, children, small furry quadropeds from Alpha Centauri, or your sanity.

Saturday, July 13, 2002

Thing 2 Rides Again

Thing 2: "Right here, this is where my heart is. I have to keep track of it, you know?"

Me: "Why, does it wander off if you stop?"

Thing 2: "Yes. Yes it does. And sometimes it even goes up into my NECK! For Real!"

Me: "Well, if it goes to your foot, let me know and we'll amputate."

Thing 2: "Mo-THER. (scoff) Now you're just being SILLY."


Overheards ...

"If you don't stop that RIGHT THIS MINUTE, I will kill myself!"

"Jesus H Keeee-rist!"

"Kids, don't do this at home!"

"OOoo, dang, I wish I'd never done this before."

"Help me, help me! No, I can't, I'm too scared."

"I hope that spider eats you."

"No, wait! Don't tell me, I'm going to fall!"

"Um. Nothing broke!"

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