| Re: Let's Get Metaphysical |
Posted via Supernews, ht .. |
| Dale Houstman (dmh7@citilink.com) |
2004/04/14 04:10 |
john adams wrote:
> "Dale Houstman" <dmh7@citilink.com> wrote in message
> news:407CAED1.1040901@citilink.com...
>
>>
>> john adams wrote:
>>> "Dale Houstman" <dmh7@citilink.com> wrote in message
>>> news:407BEC27.60007@citilink.com...
>>>
>>>>
>>>> john adams wrote:
>>>>
>>>>> I'd like to hear more about hats. I'm thinking about opening
>>>>> a small business soon.
>>>>>
>>>>> Thanks, j
>>>>
>>>>
>>>> Hats are the only animals which will crawl into your hand to
>>>> die, if you palm a piece of Velveeta.
>>>>
>>>> Hats abhor small businessmen.
>>>>
>>>> Hats have exo-skeletons made of hydrogenated felt, and they
>>>> cling to the ceiling during the evening news. Don't look!
>>>>
>>>> Hats are gastropods who want to fly.
>>>>
>>>> Hats hear voices coming fronm your head.
>>>>
>>>> Hats might as well be doughnuts in a hurricane.
>>>>
>>>> 50% of America's hats voted for Republicans, and look what they
>>>> got for the effort! 50% of America's hats voted for Democrats,
>>>> and look what they got for the effort!
>>>>
>>>> If a hat climbs up a red ladder, it can't climb down again.
>>>>
>>>> Hats!
>>>
>>>
>>> Excellent info! Just what I wanted to hear! Hats are going to be
>>> the next big thing. I feel it: hats are going to be everywhere.
>>> Hats off to hats and hats off to things!
>>>
>>>
>> My suggestion: small businessmen should wear large hats, and large
>> businessmen should wear small hats, and all businessmen should be
>> stunned and thrown into the Fedorabbatoir and made into breakfast
>> links.
>
>
> Nonsense. Businessmen are businessmen. Blind and gag the frogmen.
> They dont have ears and never listen to their orders. Pump them full
> of air and float them across the border. When you get the time. Drop
> your drawers and salute the queen on your way home. Marry a stag
> fish. Break out of jail and go loco.
>
>
I once dropped multiple drawers in an attempt (ala Hansel and Greta
Garbo) to leave a trail back to mother's brothotel, but the swamp
chiggers oozed out of a small blue beret and ate them all up, so we
wandered deeper and deeper into the Mega Mall until we found a kiosk
made entirely of trans-fatty acids. Then we went to war with Cleveland,
and Greta had to put on the camouflage tutu, sew her head into a flour
bag and live in a fur-lined trnech. Even the Underwears'R'Us store
didn't cheer me up. Off in the diatance - conveniently painted on the
wall near the Haveadump Station - a mountain gorilla peeled the pajamas
off a haberdasher.
dmh
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