The Daily Howler
- Greta Van Susteren and Lindsey Graham just keep deceiving the public! May 23, 2013
- The wages of our refusal to fight! May 23, 2013
Sadly, No! Batphone
- Gendermorphs, a new series from Scholastic May 19, 2013
- Benghazi Bites May 16, 2013
Befouled
- Enlightenment May 22, 2013
Oakland Dilettante
- ALL SHALL READ THIS AND DESPAIR May 21, 2013
Saying Yes
- Heed the Orb!!! May 13, 2013
Empire of the Senseless
- That’s AllDid I have a dream last night that woke me up in fear? Or was it a dream that I had a dream that woke me up in fear? Such is my life. Filed under: Fridge Note, Shovels, the Self-pity goes to 11 […]
Blue Girl in a Technicolor Dream State
- Empathy Sustains Us April 20, 2013
Really Small Fish
- Jack Crow January 8, 2013
The Hollow Man (teh l4m3)
- Hive Mind May 22, 2013
I confess that I have a crush on Snag and I play Snag barbies with a moose inaction figure, some peanut butter and some Sizzlean.
This made me laugh so hard again that I had to pee in my wastebasket.
Why does AG think that CT is Pinko? Tis a mystery that.
There’s only one Colonel and impersonating his chicken leg is a federal offense, I know that is true.
Not quite sure what to make of his Barbie exploits tho
Everybody’s Talking
But speaking of stealing someone’s schtick, I though I was the only loser blogging using song titles for alla my posts.
You SHALL be hearing from Milwaukee Law Firm Brewing Company (because I can’t afford NY Law Firm. Because certain cobags keep stealing my schtick.)
All’s I know is, I want my chicken puppet back.
I think BP’s law firm is “Sclemeel, Schlemazel, Hasenfeffer Inc”
Pinko is a punko, smells like cheese, eats pig’s feet and serves warm orange SODA.
WRONGO, TROLLYSKIRTS!
I serve Tang™, or if I’m feeling exceptionally easy, Meadow Gold Orange Death!
Heh.
Way back in college, we mixed Orange Drink with cheap brandy for morning beverages. They were called Orange Cruds.
Easy. indeed.
Tang? Jejune and bald, are ya?
I figured as much. Skinny too I bet.
Skinny like flynny!
Has it always been this boring here?
I admit it! I was in a hurry and chose to cut and paste even though I knew better and knew that “Sclemeel, Schlemazel, Hasenfeffer Inc” had spelling errors in it. Silly me. I forgot I was answering the king of the bitter grammar police.
In order to make all right, it should have been, “Schlemiel, Schlemazel, Hasenpfeffer, Inc.”
BP- Hasenpeffer may be spelled hasenfeffer… but, had I been paying attention, I would have gone with the p. Now, we’re back to p… where’s Kathleen?
Define boring? We’re currently taking anti- and pro-annieangel battle rap demos. We’ll see how it all shakes out.
Um, schlimazel. >:)
And I forgot an S in the damn hassenpfeffer. I’m calling it a day.
Trolleyskirts got beat. Don’t she know we be takin’ it to the streets.
W?RD!
Define boring? Any use of the Laverne and Shirley theme song. But this blog goes beyond, it reaches, doesn’t give up just like that little old ant, and suddenly, we are dealing with proper SPELLINGS of non-Enlgish theme song words.
As IF.
Pinko Punko be a skinny bum drinkin rum in the slum wit his mum, YO.
BooBoo kitty, biatches.
Boring? Like a rhyming troll who ain’t seen anything on TV since 1969?
I say begone with you who can’t even create an insult related to the disgusting love of chocolate skittlez we’ve witnessed on this site…
Boring? Like a rhyming troll who ain’t seen anything on TV since 1969?
I say begone with you who can’t even create an insult related to the disgusting love of chocolate skittlez we’ve witnessed on this site…
double post ftw! (i hope)
angel tuned in the Debussy, and plays hard loosie-goosie, but sips pineapple Juicy, and misses the møøsie.
and yes, it is always precisely this boring here.
Fulsome? Full of something, double postin/chocolate shell/growin protein, you say ain’t but I isn’t/stick yo skittlez up yo whiznet.
As for Diaz, I mean pleeaz/yo goose is in my noose, gonna boil it till it’s loose/in the the leg, make my gravy with the dregs/yo game be teh lame, so-so teh same, all I say is SHAME, WEST SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE!!!!
UPTOWN, BABY!
serving you up like OJ, aint talking white bronco, annie-a to the izzo, talking fresh squeezus, rockin you like jesus!
Say yo prayers little boy, yo, be my little carrot toy, to squeeze n’please/ make you weak in the knees/ my game is so fresh/ my juice be the best/ shake and tasty, full of gracey/ got the sticky on yo facey.
BOOYAH.
it’s givin me grief, yo pulp in my teeth, spit you out, with a shout, forget what its about, watching you pout, shoelimpy shouldn’t doubt, I got the clout!
What you got ain’t so hotty, it don’t hit the spot, G/ the word on the street is, how small yo meat is/ dreamin poon but just got Tang, cuz ya got a little wang/ that’s how they be talkin it, all the block rockin that sh*t.
General Trollyjodhpurs is just what the wah in Iraq needs. People can’t fight and laugh at the same time.
Five Star!
Are you serious? People not only can laugh while they kill, but I’m sure they do.
They also can sing while they kill, praise God while they kill, scream while they kill and even regret while they kill.
People can pretty much do anything while they kill. Even chew gum.
You aerobicize your leggos, but leggo my eggo, don’t want you to get preggo, don’t want to step up to your baptism, here’s a taste of my lyrical smacktism
This trip to the moon, by a pair of baboons, better end soon, because it is so jejune.
Sweet fancy Moses
you strike these poses
but your mutual attraction
via battle rap action
is right under your noses
Leggo your eggo cuz it’s full of cheesey shmeggo/ couldn’t find your bit, get the microscope to spy it/ still looking never finding, like your lame attempt at rhyming/ neverending time trial, too late you’re out of style
Uh ohs, you can call me Ronco, you think you gonna step to, I’m gonna set you and forget you
Set you like concrete, well at least I’ll set your feet/ kidna hard to step, when you’re all over wet/ sinkin in the river, that gives me a shiver/ where did PP go, only PT will know.
You think you got bravado, go got the cask of amantillado, brick you within, forget about your sin, you’re gonna be toast, nothing but a ghost
Can you lift a brick, I don’t think you’re fit/ force you down the path, the birds can hear me laugh/ dig the hole for my flower, cuz Princess got the power/ says goodnight time to sleep, your hole ain’t very deep/ deep enough no bluff, you just didn’t have the stuff/ to step to me, Mr P, now you’re just a memory
A tisket a tasket/my office wastebasket/put your face in its place/give you a taste/don’t mean to scare y’all/I’m on a conference call
I SAID IT
PP be banned, livin in a garbage can/ wasn’t me it was yo mama, dincha hear her holla/ her mouth was wide when, you let it glide in/ went right down her gullet, all over her mullet/ such a mess on her dress, now Pinko must confess!
Yikes. I thought I crossed the line. THAT crossed the line!
princess trollyskirts, that was inappropriate!
looking at you, makes me think of a moo/cow/pie is what I bake/poo like a cake/feed it to you/taste so great/I’m paul and john/you’re not even Ringo/should be starring in Pink Flamingoes/Divine looks so great/compared to what you got/nothing but player hate
Line dancer, romancer, Princess got the answer/ dog poop in your boot, dead flies in your soup/ cat vomit in your wallet, sniff sniff ya know you want it/ chunky style with corn and rice, take my advice/ crossin all the lines, I thought yo mama was Divine?
Or is that your Daddy??
What a wipe out
Shootin the rhymes like snipe
Out of your battle rap cannons
But they fly away, “hey DJ, yo way how we don’t wanna play!”
Those verses gone, ain’t no use scannin’
For a town called Hope on your slippery slope, better start with the bannin’
Cause you the dope-à-rope popes — no perch in your church
In with the turd word, losin the bird word
Now scat, y’all!