Today we will be talking about art. That’s right kiddies! Most importantly though is the Mona Lisa.
Amazing, epic, beautiful piece of art right?? WRONG!!! The Mona Lisa is a piece of craaapppp! My pet rock could do that!
What?! No I’m not talking about Jacob! He is a PEBBLE P. E. B. B. L. E. peeebbblllleeee! Say it with me. Pebble. And again. Now turn around. Repeat it several times. Touch your toes.
Aw hell! My toes came off again. Get me the fucking duct tape! It goes right there around you bitchy mouth!
That large pie hole. The circular gap in your face that vomits the words. Do me a favor and shut that. It keeps making these annoying noises.
Blah blah blah bleeep blegh ummnn hmmm buzzz ghiopanipbhaea[bno!
Really I can’t understand any of it! Kind of like math. Two plus two is fish. One and One is eleven. But noooo I’m always wrong!!!
Right? No it’s left. Take a turn around that light pole, up the wall, down strawberry lane. DESTINATION REACHED!
Now get the fuck out! You heard me! Scram! Shoo!
Shoe?! Big hiking boot, steel toe, dainty ballerina slippers. Take your pick! We got a whole mountain of em. Take one up, try it on, maybe squash a few bugs. Let me know your fit. Good now pay up.
You twat! I don’t take credit, check, cash, don’t even think about goats. I take mine in cold hard fish. Head on, head off, small, big, fat, slippery.
Slipping, sliding, down we go. WHEEEEEEEEE! Shriek it out at the top of your lungs. Hurry now before it all spins out. Before you fall to pieces.
Hold on to your head as your mind begins to shred, paint the walls red as you tread on full of dread following after the dead. Followed and led, down to your final bed. The time has come, time you wed, no longer alone in your cold, cold bed. That resting place where you bled as you were behead.
The moral of the story I have just said…. Do not eat fish. It does bad things to your stomach. It’ll mess you up.
What goes up must come down, and down, and down, and down, and down. I wonder if this ever ends. Or does this inky red abyss keep going? Oh well. Back to the story! Doowwwwnnnnnnnnnnn you go! Heel over heads, screaming and cackling away, the white dove flashes by.
Wait a minute… are you sure that was a dove? Perhaps a bunny.. or a cotton ball…
Either way your insane. Jumping down holes and seeing things. Really you should be ashamed. What would your mother say?!
That’s right. The soup is on. Exactly what she would say. So you see I have no time to play. I must be on my way. Have a nice day. I do hope we cross paths again.
Criss, cross, criss, cross, ziggidy zag, BAM! Collision. All that’s left is the pretty little train. Oh and that strange pile of unrecognizable mush. Either way I don’t see you, quite rude really just running off, so I’ll be on my way again.
Good day deary! Don’t let the bed bugs bite. Might catch something deadly.