Saturday, 17 November 2007

Let Me Help You

I'm not dead, just busy giving bad advice to friends. I wish I could tell you about them, but then they would know too. That's the trouble with keeping a public blog, you can't write anything interesting. Blogs by definition are boring.

Let's tackle the problem by using strained associations and ghastly metaphors, so that the story is mutated beyond what the persons I'm talking about could recognise, whilst still maintaining coherence and meaning. Also, let's never construct a sentence like the previous one again. It was a baddie.
One day, some one called Daniel Braunstein, who could quite frankly be anyone at all and not the very same Daniel Braunstein who you and I know, met a girl called MooMoo (so named for her cow like attributes — prophetic were her parents). MooMoo and Daniel Braunstein "robbed a bank together".
The thing about euphemisms for sex is that they really don't have to make any sense whatsoever. Try putting anything at all in double quotes and see what it sounds like. For the full effect, do the rabbit ears with your fingers whilst saying it and use emphasise like there's no tomorrow. I imagine that's what Jesus did when he said things like "And they "knew" each other". Anyway back to the story which may or may not be true godihopetheyrenevergoingtohearaboutthispost.
After MooMoo knew Daniel Braunstein, she did something not dissimilar to cutting off his manhood and dancing around the appendage whilst Daniel Braunstein writhed in notjoy.
I realise that I must stop the story here since it's becoming wonderfully apparent who I'm really talking about. Obviously it's not Daniel Braunstein, who is so happily attached to Gloria Segreto that he would never cheat on her (on the 9th of November at 12:37 pm). I'm not so stupid as to mention Fanshawe's name in such a delicate post about his exploits.

Hello Fanshawe.

afraz "acrimonious alliteration advocates are always consistent" khan

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