Has he looked under the cushions on the sofa?
Is that something that is only full-sized when you’re ready to use it? If not, it’s a useless reflex to check your pockets and fly.
Try looking at the dump.
Alpenhorn will arise when the sweet smell and taste of say chocolate moose, passes the way of desire below. He must look in the hardest of places for it drained out and into his mate.
Some dumb troll stole it to smoke his weed in it…
Here’s about 10 guys making pretty music with their alphorns…
He may have to look at the cheesecake factory, where they pound out blueberry cheesecake.
This type of innuendo and double entendre can only make America weak!
…I’m not one to toot my own alpenhorn…
…except when I get alpenhorny…
…then I go all Napoleon Dynamite
…it can be a blast, really…
…soothing to the throat…
….just like a cough drop…
…at least that’s the way we do it in Froglandia…
…back in Whoville…
…it’s kinda different…
…but once you wet your whistle…
…you get the same results…
This was beyond what I had imagined. It was so insane that it left no room for reason. The madness was a palpable presence in the room. R- was nodding gleefully, entirely under the spell of this nonsensical bewrayment, while V- simply sat like any monk on a mountain in a cave, certain that the random nonsense being dispensed would be taken as the greatest wisdom by the gullible seekers arriving to hear their alpenhorn proclamations. The one positive thing of all this folly was that my mind was cleared and my former state of confusion and distraction was dismissed by my new clear insight into the obvious loss of sanity in those around me. It was clearly time to take my leave of this cult recruitment drive. “Well, I see. Thank you for taking the time to explain that for me. But I see that it is time to be on my way, as I still have commitments that require a decent night’s sleep, and it is becoming late.” And with that, I made my exit, with R- following moments later.
Pah. Men are all alike. They think their thing is a horn, or maybe say it is, so someone would blow the other end.
You can call the Alps, but they stay where they are.
“Is that an alpenhorn in your pocket … or are you just glad to see me?”
I’ve heard of people losing their mind, their life savings, and even their true love but never their alpenhorn.
Well! It’s not an easy piece to just shove in your trouser pocket! Neither is a glockenspiel! Maybe a harmonica, or kazoo would fit best!
Has he looked beside his quincunx?
He’ll need it in his ballroom blitz.
Okay, Okay … time for the Ricola commercial:
He needs more potassium in his diet. It’s good for the cognitive facility. Ginkgo biloba is only effective if you take it as part of a regular regimen.
And it suddenly strikes me that ‘regular regimen’ would be a very bad name for a punk rock group.
Yesterday morning, I think it was, GC went down temporarily, with that frightening screen and the gobbledygook in the gobbledybox as in the recent painful past. When it came back up, I experienced an episode of Excited Delirium (ExDS) because I could read Frog Applause and the comments that follow along in its wake without noticeable interruption.
But was he glad to see you?
Some say it’s where the sun don’t shine. That’s why he’s so uptight.
Lost and Found
Yeah, but c’mon, Teresa! You STILL miss “Cleats,” dontcha? I do after having binge-read it. Bill Hinds’ absolute masterpiece. He needs to revive it
Yeah; well, people misplace little things every day, don’t they?Just the other morning, I had trouble remembering where I’d parked my personalized BBJ 787, ya know? So, my point is, don’t let a matter of a horn misplaced faze you. It’s probably out there in the snow somewhere, just a awaiting a revelatory meltdown!
Somebody needs to go on a diet or else get a pair of roomier pants.