There once was a penguin who lived on like…a chunk of ice cubes.. a cluster of.. ice cubes…WATER THAT A GIRL NAMED LIZZY CAN CHEW.

Like.. OH EM GEE!

He had happy little feet, and a great…big…MAGICAL WAND…

OH EM GEE!

He was a magical…WAND-like penguin

He ran all around his chunk of cubes and turned seals into… ESKIMOS!

KABAMM!!

OH EM GEE!!

He grew evdevilicious with his  magical wand, and became a dictator over….YOUR MOM-dola…

Soon he was a powerful little tuxedo, who was incredibly.. EVDEVILICIOUS! But was really a happy bunny with a rigimorting grandpa on the inside. GRANDMAS TOO!

OH EM GEE!!!

One day he was chillin…yes like a trippin villain on his chunk of  ice cubes when a wetsuit floated  up to him… as he was staring over the edge at this wet suit.. A FREAKIN NUDEY (who I believe lost his wet suit..) APPEARED BEHIND HIM AND  THREW A SPEAR AND POACHED THE PENGUIN!

OH EM TRIPPIN GEE!

The penguin died..

The end.

OR SO WE THOUGHT?????

GASP, stay tuned for a sequel… MAYBE!!!!!!!

Possible name??

“THE MAGICAL PENGUIN AND HIS SECRET LOVE ROMANCE…WITH COLBIE CAILLAT!!! OH EM GEE!!!!” – Maybe she ate a baby!!

Artichoke, Fartichoke… smelly old hearts.

Keep them in the fridge, and they might grow tart (like your grandpa)

They’re blue and like to eat green chunkies with your auntie at high noon.

They’re devilishly handsome and make any greasey girl swoon!

OH NO! Don’t you see????

When you put them in boiling water, not only do they drown!!! But they can’t speak!!

How can they tell you that the boiling water is scalding them when they can’t speak???

You cruel, inartichoke felbeastinal!!!!

Burn in pots and pans for your horrible awefulleries!

HOOT HOOT, shut up! You can’t talk owl! You’re burning in pots and pans!

Jittery dittery, giggly lil buggy choke-a-heart. Sing me a song to put out my back!

You run down the street,

STOP! DROP! ROLLLLLLLLLL you’re on bubbly water!

Gasp! Chinese fire drill it to the next depot.

Ms. Cellulite called.. she wants her cankles back.

Artichoke Fartichoke….smelly old grandpas

Keep them in the fridge and watch rigimortis set in. (like your expecto patronum!)

Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, I am an artichoke activist..

Eat clams!

Happy Bunnies frolick in a field.

They eat candy corn and pick their noses.

They flick their boogers into Christina Aguilera’s hair.

When she tries to get them out she realizes her hair is gone,

because the boogers are acidic waste.

Darkness closes in on the Happy Bunny Land.

and soon these critters are rabid (haha rabid sounds like rabbit) with fury.

With their eyes gone down to a beady red,

they sharpen their claws as they get ready to maul an oblivious victim.

Flesh is torn through and devoured as though an autopsy took place,

and now Happy Bunny Land is referred to as Elfin Forest.

Elfin Forest, the place where cute little critters turn into rabid serial killers at night.

But if I were you, I’d just watch out for the acidic boogers,

because we all like our hair.

The End.

There was this god. He was grand…. and awesome….. and amazing. He pooped upon a poor chicken….. farm with decrepit cats that played…… cards. The cards were thrown across my….. eye… and ate my… face. That little boy had a small……. toe, that protruded from his…… forhead. Brittney Spears..shaved her..leg on tuesday, but it grew back… so she went to see…. Dr. Krivorkian. He cut off her…. Navel and.. ate it. It grew exceedingly large and hairy. After time it became…cancerous..and lifelike. He gave birth to my…sister.. and screamed.. “AUGH” and then he… died.

the end.

Help! I’m trapped in a fortune cookie factory and my unventilated truck to transport illegals blew up! So this is me..the raging tiger.. attempting to blog, however i’m in an oddd..dd..d. mood. yepps. Im waiting for Madi to meet me at panera so we can chill til we meet up with kylie. haha personality tests rock my meta-carpal coverings! Gasp a fat man. If you stare at people long enough, they get uncomfortable, and make interesting facial expressions… though i never have the guts to stare all too long… though if I do, I generally pretend that I am staring at something behind them. heehee puts my conscience at ease… so blogs…they…are.. interesting. I think that I will make a habit of writing them around 1 a.m. every night. My weirdest thoughts come to play then. ha. ok bye.