How hard is it to cook meat on a stick, you ask. Not very. You’ll want meat, of course. And a stick. And some cayenne pepper, maybe some garlic and some homemade tomato sauce to go with it. Just turn up the heat and kebab’s your uncle.
This is kind of crazy, but this morning I went down to the plaza and watched a matador competition. It may sound implausible but I saw the plaza bull.
It gave me paws.
Fat Frankie’s foolish foot fetish forces him to be a footishist.
It’s whack birds day! It’s whack birds day!
You’re doing it all ass-whack-birds!
I have always been pretty shy and disinclined to speak to others but lately I’ve taken a taciturn for the worse.
*In fact, so much so that I didn’t even feel obliged to turn this post into a shaggy schplog joke.
You can lead a zeppelin to water but you cannot make it sink.
You can LED a zeppelin but you cannot make it blink.
You can lead a stairway to heaven but only to the brink.
You can listen to led zeppelin but only at the skating rink.
I just had the most disturbing realization. Everyone I know uses the elevator differently than I do. I’m not sure exactly to do about it but I’ll definitely have to take steps.
Important fashion update from the Schplog. Sorry, no pictures.
Word on the street (thnx huggy bear) is that the new hipster shoes are clumpety-bumpkin clodhoppers. It’s part of the new slack couture (slack-jawed yokels meet high fashion).
And don’t forget to stick a piece of straw between your teeth: it’s the new black.
A Tom Swifty haiku is a tomku.
If Tom Swifty haiku start taking over the Schplog, it’s a tomku coup.
If they don’t stop, it’s enough to make you tomku coup cuckoo.
The Gentleman sighed as he entered the drawing room. As he glanced wearily about the disheveled premises he grasped at a nearby sturdy Pole for support. Why was it so difficult to retain reliable Domestics in these times? He trod briskly across the rumpled Persian lying on the floor and – shooing off a sleepy Siamese – collapsed into the sofa. As he lifted his heavy boots to rest upon a well padded Ottoman, he draped an elaborately embroidered Afghan across his sturdy shoulders and loosened his Thai. Summoning a fragrant Cuban from the hidden chest in the wall, the Gentleman began to relax. The Domestic situation was perhaps not so bad as all of that, after all. He struck a match and raised his tall pink Highball glass in a Toast: There will always be an England!
