Imagination....in action(Game)
 

In this thread...our members are challenged to express the ability to make no sense whatsoever. Make up a paragraph that means nothing, or has no inherent value to society.....come on, why not.


Long ago there was a frog, blue I think. Ate alot of nasty things, and got big. A relatively large truck, delivering beer to Pauleys' liquor store ran it over. The stain on the road, after drying , and wear, looked remarkably like the State of Wyoming, when viwed from the south.

i am truly dismassed. i have no idiot how this coul of happened. maybe if my keyboard held more ivry then ebny...into the fuchure.

I sat next to him for 4 hours on the plane, he smelled like fried hair and liver. On the collar of his shirt were yellow rings, each one a little bigger than the one below. It was then when I realised that he had owned this shirt for quite some time by looking at the freyed stitching, and each yellow ring was a measure of his growth, and the fatter and fatter he got, the wider and higher up on his collar they were placed. After sitting there for a few mins thinking about this huge sweaty guy, and how much he came to resemble an old tree with growth rings to me, I thought "This is probably pretty rude of me" and went back to reading my PC Gamer which I bought at the airport giftshop for 3 dollars more than it was worth. I didn't look back over at the man again until the plane landed, it was then I concluded it had all been a dream, and I awoke in a cold sweat, with rings forming on my new pajamas.

The cat yawned as the stuffed bear continued to frown at him. Both sat listening intently to my speech. I told them that if I had been a rock, I would have pushed myself over the edge by now, but that I couldn't because it was my duty to save the frogs. The reflection of my lava lamp in the sword hanging on the wall reminded me that we have little time to spare before the invaders land and take us to be put in cages and glass tanks for their own amusement. As I pondered this fate, I looked into the flame of the candle and suddenly understood the meaning of life, why we are here, and how the universe was created, but the gears turning in my head trying to understand that meaning pulverized the thought like the destruction of a rock crashing down at the bottom of the cliff, thinking in its last few moments that what it really would have liked before its demise was some frogs' legs with ketchup. As the cat drifted off to sleep, life seemed complete, and he glanced over once more at the bear, unbothered by its scornful expression as the rhythmic droning of a monkey blowing across the neck of a 2-gallon jug lulled him slowly away from consciousness.

Broken. My little rubber, mechanical ducky was broken by some stupid rust magnet. I cant eat sunflower seeds any more, salt makes my brain farts stink. Easy as it was to catch that freakin' pollywog, the sandwich was soggy and tasted of muck, even after I washed the bread in goats milk. Have you seen the new commercial? No, not that one the one with the pills. Age seems to make spots less inviting, particularly to zebras and vultures, except those really ugly ones with the red neck.
Hi Paul,
Saturday sucked, Lisa wouldn't even ask. How do you expect me to make that anyway? Nobody has ever done it that way before, at least not this year...oh well, its making that noise again.

so........i spun the top off of the bottle of Jack.....and i didn't really care where it landed.

cuz we were gonna do the whole bottle.............even if i had to stick my own finger down my throat ,half way through........*just to make room for the rest.*

she looked at me and thought too herself..."how pathetic"........"i'm fuckin' this clown"............


but.......she stuck around just because i knew how to pleasure her..........

i read a book toady called the sky ois falling it was by tom the chicken. the end.

The papered-clown is the triple bipass system. All that was said, and now it crows, as the dusk. What peeled into the frown, I know, as the brown tree said "cluck". Who is the one, at that moment, and now to see. All right, I got the paste, date the fried-up, on-side, pace corn.
That's all I dissected, Detroit.

Roast the freaking toasted atmosphere, galatic powers into the fucking stratosphere. Hail to the oxidized freaking now, always Luis the betrayal hate smiled. Damn it, damn you Christian sedated pale freak customer, always bellow the hollow vomit, like the gargantuan slim creek!

Okay, now I see my mother talking to the red pink hippo, and it understood the tale of the cave and the sorrow. So the hippo is converged with my mother, and they understand how to sing the right top hymn tune, splick. Now the odd power takes them both up and they underestimate the stillness of the sign.

i trid to writ a good tal but my ky dosn't work. i think it got stuck from all the ic cram i'v bn aten that drippd on the kyboard. sorry, popl...mayb nxt tim.

Is there a place where a guy can get a drink? Hasn't god created man to live life to its fullest and not be depressed after his wife found out that he had a mistress? Why can't death marches be dancable, and why aren't there any pilgrim disco's for the funky amish? If god is silent, why can't man learn to shut up?

I was caught with an ounce of marijuana, but they threw me in with Michael Jackson. My ass hurts.

Seen that yellow thing, was hard to hear it fall. Made more elbow wax from my carpet shavings, and threw them out into the bathwater. Yesterday was only half as bad as todays best nasty freakin headache.
I didn't eat the tomato.

I love the way she uses her tongue. She calls it, "The Scoop." It really is a neat trick. I wish I knew other women who did that. Oh yeah, The Scoop. Scoop away, baby!

What the hell is going on in this place? Is nothing makes real sense at all? All the apparent oranges are really apples? What business is that? Does my curser blink waiting for my idiotic input? Will you be slain if you reveal the truth? I know I would.
So shut the fuck up.

no soap...radio?

my socks are on fire, so i've sent the cat to the grocery for a couple of two by fours & a bottle of watermelon scented windex.

the tar glazed donuts are in the oven freezing yesterday. they should be ready & unfinished in 3 light years. yeeeeehaw!

and... hooray! the sponge is finally repainted & sounds awful!!!

Yeah so um...what do you call the flavor of when someone you once loved enters into a room and you realize that you hate them...cause once a 15 yr old girl fell in love with satan but had her first heartbreak when he was killed by his brother...and...I'm sorry that excesses of my conservativness can only cover for the one...but maybe if you would look ahead instead of looking behind.....OH NOES!!!111 <RUN AWAY!!>

I really like this thread, because I guess I can displace my ANGER after LOSING on HALO2 because I kept getting fucking SNIPED by faggot SPYDR2123 bastard

........i really don't give a shit if you think it was in time or not.........fuck you.....buy a metronome!!!!!!!


..........fuck!

It was funny the other day when you fell onto your feet and hurt your head after you stood back up onto your knees.

I sat at the wall looking for something to do that would take up the time it took me to find that damn wall.

For some reason it smells really funny in to room which makes no sense because there isn't anything in here but me and meat.

That was pretty cool when I was driving and hit the goose in the air. Marzipan on my tongue and corn in my bed, the water was dripping up. Communism.

i don't fucking think so buddy...............

no!!!.........fuck you...........that ain't gonna happen.

i don't fucking care what she said.....it ain't gonna happen.

you tell that bitch,for the last time, i said no!!!



*one sided phone conversation eh*

suddenly arbitrary bottled aspirin became susan's floundering long time compassion.
she used this random fact for tuning pianos sharply with a flat cone; however, only on every 7th wednesday of each manipulating month.

Too bad the seat was set to "eject", we could've used the sweet brochures.
There for the grace of dog go eye.
That's how you insure K-9 faithfullness, Avon-lady on the half-shell.
Eh? Am I right, or am I right? Or am I right? Right? Right. Left.

Curfuffle. Shroud. Masonic flatuantarium massaged Herbert's spleen with a ball peen mackerel. Quasi-digible gnomon ihibited ihebriated flouder's ghoti ghochough. There are fish swimming in my brain. This is the spawning of the cage and aquarium. Two Johns stole two ns so I stole one lyric. Cough Women Nation cough come loch hiccough. Balls to Joyce. Finnagin's Wake is like any Irish Wake - no one makes sense with that much whisky.