Ah Keebler hookers?
For my first blog let's begin with one of my more famous ones...
So the other day I'm wandering around Saint John aimlessly, searching for any adventure that one can find. Hey I'm new to the wild ways of the big city and I guess I showed it with my eyes bugging out at all the strange and exotic creatures that I've come across. All of a sudden I thought I hit the jackpot when turning a corner I hear from an alleyway, "Hey big boy. You want some lovin'?" Oh my God. Could it be!?! Then I looked down...way down... and it was. A midget hooker. I mean I've been in this glorious city for a whole week and haven't killed a single hooker. Today was my lucky day. I should've known there was something different about her right away, with her lack of heighth (I admit I don't know too many "little people"), how she kept hiding her ears under that funky hat and the way that she constantly referred to her "cookies" (who am I to judge people on what they call their body parts). Yup that was my mistake.I wake up the next day with a smile on my face; another glorious kill that nobody would miss -- when I open one eye to see surrounding my bed -- dozens more of these freaky, funky hat wearing little people. This can't be! Okay, okay. Just breathe. It's just a bad dream like the one I had after the slaughter of that Russian physicist went awry and I accidentally caused problems in Chernobyl. So close my eyes hard and then open and Aarrrgghhh! They're everywhere! Leave me alone. What Do you want!?!Oops, I guess I made a big booboo. That midget hooker wasn't a hooker at all. I tried to explain that it was an honest mistake. She asked if wanted some lovin' but I guess that's how they make them. Ohh what an idiot I am...and now I have to pay the price.The Keebler elves now want me dead! I found out they make their cookies with love and that poor elf thought that I was going to love her so she could make more cookies. I managed to convince them to let me live as long as I could keep up the production of cookies that she had. I figured no problem, I'm twice the size. I should be able to make cookies a lot easier. Once again... Idiot! These cookies are magical and can only be made with love. Oh how I wished they had just killed me. Now I have to go out and find some love for my "cookies". Oh well you can find me on the street corner. Moral of the story: Be wary of hookers that want love...because we all know that true hookers are dead inside.--But why must I wear this funky hat?
Van
So the other day I'm wandering around Saint John aimlessly, searching for any adventure that one can find. Hey I'm new to the wild ways of the big city and I guess I showed it with my eyes bugging out at all the strange and exotic creatures that I've come across. All of a sudden I thought I hit the jackpot when turning a corner I hear from an alleyway, "Hey big boy. You want some lovin'?" Oh my God. Could it be!?! Then I looked down...way down... and it was. A midget hooker. I mean I've been in this glorious city for a whole week and haven't killed a single hooker. Today was my lucky day. I should've known there was something different about her right away, with her lack of heighth (I admit I don't know too many "little people"), how she kept hiding her ears under that funky hat and the way that she constantly referred to her "cookies" (who am I to judge people on what they call their body parts). Yup that was my mistake.I wake up the next day with a smile on my face; another glorious kill that nobody would miss -- when I open one eye to see surrounding my bed -- dozens more of these freaky, funky hat wearing little people. This can't be! Okay, okay. Just breathe. It's just a bad dream like the one I had after the slaughter of that Russian physicist went awry and I accidentally caused problems in Chernobyl. So close my eyes hard and then open and Aarrrgghhh! They're everywhere! Leave me alone. What Do you want!?!Oops, I guess I made a big booboo. That midget hooker wasn't a hooker at all. I tried to explain that it was an honest mistake. She asked if wanted some lovin' but I guess that's how they make them. Ohh what an idiot I am...and now I have to pay the price.The Keebler elves now want me dead! I found out they make their cookies with love and that poor elf thought that I was going to love her so she could make more cookies. I managed to convince them to let me live as long as I could keep up the production of cookies that she had. I figured no problem, I'm twice the size. I should be able to make cookies a lot easier. Once again... Idiot! These cookies are magical and can only be made with love. Oh how I wished they had just killed me. Now I have to go out and find some love for my "cookies". Oh well you can find me on the street corner. Moral of the story: Be wary of hookers that want love...because we all know that true hookers are dead inside.--But why must I wear this funky hat?
Van
posted by Spirtswoosh at 8:38 PM
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