Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Monday, July 26, 2010

Lizardface, Queen of Toilet Paper


ALL YOUR TOILET PAPER HAS BEEN INSPECTED BY ME PERSONALLY

says the sign outside of the palace. It is true, every roll of toilet paper is personally scrutinized, handled, tested, and licked by Lizardface herself. Every last piece of flimsy tissue you've squeezed between cheeks and into crevices and used to blow your nose and wipe up snot and blood and tears and pee and spills has had the rough tongue of Queen Lizardface lovingly run across it to make sure it is good enough for you. Just for you, personally.
"But how can it be for me when she does it to all toilet paper?" you wonder.
Can you accept that this act of total kindness is for your sake? It is the only thing in this whole world that is done for you. Wholly for you. Not for any kind of reciprocation, even emotional; in fact, your ingratitude is entirely assumed and expected, and yet Lizardface painstakingly examines and licks for you.
Just please, do me a favor and think of Lizardface's pure kindness the next time you use toilet paper. But that little flicker of cynicism and doubt in your heart—that tug that says no one, no one no matter how kind can truly give something totally to another—will make your next wipe a little scratchier, I bet. And I'm not going to say you don't deserve it.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Private EYE

The last thing Rick Russet expected to see walk through the door into his crummy office that day was a gorgeous potato. But there she stood in his office, her full lips pouting in anticipation, her stylish hat pulled low just above her beautiful eyes.
"Mr. Russet," Lola Hashbrowns repeated in her low husky voice that was as silky warm as a slow wash in a sensual kitchen sink. "I need to know if you'll let me hire you."
The tendrils of smoke from Rick's slow-burning cigarette licked his office's nicotine-stained ceiling. He frowned, pretending to be considering what she'd offered him, when really he would do literally anything to see her thick-skinned curves and luscious new potatoes again and again.
"A peel job, eh?" he asked from the corner of his mouth, hoping Lola couldn't hear his heart thudding or see his cigarette quiver ever so slightly like a shoestring fry being dipped into hot oil.
"Just this one time," she said almost in a whisper. Her eyes seemed to be reaching out to him, pleading. Rick nodded slowly.
Lola's lips turned up at the corners—almost more of a smirk, Rick thought—and she turned and walked out of his office. Rick watched her sensuous body bob down the hallway, his eyes tracing her delicious brown shape, and wondered why his stomach suddenly felt like a bunch of month-old tater tots moldering in the sun.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

The Beast builds Belle a bookcase

"Why does a bookcase have the name of a man?" wondered the Beast

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

WHO RUNS THE INTERNET?: an exposé

• 404 Error messages: 404 is bear code for "bear"
• Type in "facebear.com" or "bearbook.com" and you will be redirected to Facebook - a front for bear networking
• When "something is technically wrong!" on Twitter, it's because honey has dripped into the gears that make the internet run and gummed them up
• I'm a bear
• You're a bear
• Bears run the internet!

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Tristan the Golden Whale Genie





I can grant your every wish, little boy



But I won’t