To fill the pre World cup Boredom. Add another line to this story, then post it, then another gets added and bang, you've got yourself a novel. Rules, the line must be more than 4 words long. Thats it. I'll start: He stood frozen, unable to contemplate what he was seeing before him.
He'd never, in all his years on the planet, seen a snail move so fast. How, he thought, could this possibly happen.
Then RHC carried the dead snail home with quasi-sexual anticipation, giddy at the thought of laying the little lifeless body on his desk and examining its formidable anatomy.
I was stopped by Custom the other day they asked me "anything to declare"? I said yes, "I have an affair with my wife" !.
Said the Customs Officer with a bemused expression, as he was still trying to put together the sudden inexplicable narrative shift from a story of badgers and snails to that of a **** joke, told badly.
After his nice dump he realised there was no TP, so he used the badger carcass running the risk of TB
It was at this moment that he awoke; he realised that the shifting between stories of badgers, jokes, and smelly poop was the result of a bad dream; he determined he must find the 'Dribbles' that those in his dream professed love for.
Why am I going there now? Am I capable of that? Is that serious? It is not serious at all it's MacDonalds. It's simply a fantasy to amuse myself; a plaything! Yes, maybe it is a plaything.
Where he was sure to meet his old friend greez, who was frequently to be seen stuffing his fat, bald head in that very emporium.
