 Here's Jessica Albert Hewison keenly cycling through Flirty Peter's Wood. He's got a recurrent Urinary Tract infection at the moment and he needs to find a place of succour and refuge wherein he may squat down and purge himself of his burden. He is also very keen to find his way back to The Shack so that he can reveal his latest bikini - black and silver fish-skin with ball-sack trimmings and Jagger lip-skin trim - to the astonished and admiring gallery of Sylvanian's. Go Jessica, go. Ride like the wind! The Shack beckons you like a beckoning thing. Go easy though, for there are terrors lurking in these woods. Beware Beige Keith, for he may wish to engage you in conversation. Beware the seething Colonel Hampton and his cocked blunderbus. Beware Cloth Sue with her androgenous air of suppressed fury. Beware as you go Jessica... and now... for a song:
"Braindrops are fallin' on my head
And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed
Nothin' seems to fit
Those Braindrops are fallin' on my head and they keep fallin'" ~ DeBunkem
| | Posted by Iweed at 6:04 PM - | |
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Bodkins! Monty... ...was riding on Rag's back... ...when Rags saw a bitch and tried to mount her and Monty fell to the ground and we saw up his skirt... !!!!!!!
~ DeBunkem
| | Posted by Iweed at 5:25 AM - | |
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One of the greatest things about life in The Shack, is the company of our cherished Aunty Gary. And when she gets to yarning, we all sit around and lose ourselves in the words he weaves. Come join me and my Sylvanian creatures as Aunty tells another tale:
"It
could've been anyone. She was about ten years old and was on holiday.
She had munched her way through well over a pound of cherries. On the
way back to her gaffe, she was suddenly possessed with the urge to
evacuate her bowels!
So, nipping up, like a crab walking
forwards, she waddled her way to the lavs. When she got there, the
cubicles in the women's were in use, so she tried the Gents. No joy
there either! With increasing desperation she returned to the Ladies,
and, to her immense relief, a cubicle was available.
However,
as she entered, the brain's relief triggered a premature evacuation and
- in one of those tantalising, 'so near, yet so far away' scenarios -
she shat her knickers!
Oh dearie me, what a mess! She cleared herself up, but, alas, the panties were beyond redemption. What to do?
Well,
luckily as she walked into the main body of the toilet, she saw a
tartan bin and, with palpable relief, deposited them in there. All was
well again in her world, and she slowly ambled along, enjoying her
escape from shitty catastrophe...
I wonder what went through her
mind, however, as the homely middle-aged lady with the tartan shopping
trolley walked out of the toilet, smiling benignly at her."
I love Aunty Gary stories!
~ DeBunkem
| | Posted by Iweed at 3:44 AM - | |
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