Confucius [551 BC – 479 BC] said, “It is not over until it is properly concluded.”
Yellow had never known such vibrancy. This could not stand. He felt a profound emptiness in the pit of his stomach. There had to be a better word to define all this beauty. He would get all up in there and come up with something befitting, as sure as his name was Confucius, because that is how Confucius do.
In an alternate universe, the punchline is Gas Grass Or Ass, Nobody Rides For Free.
The banana was furious in thought. He was terrifically annoyed by an earworm. It was stuck, but good. It was slowly driving him insane. This will certainly be the last time he would go to Bed, Bath And Beyond®. They should warn you if they are going to pipe in that sort of music. Besides, the banana had just figured out that ‘beyond’ really means merchandise that doesn’t sell at T.J. Maxx®.
The day began like so many days before. I take a six-minute hot shower, until it turns cold, and then another two minutes of unforgiving ice water in order to repeat (lather and rinse). I stop at the corner bagel shop. I get a garlic bagel and three packets of cream cheese, and one grape jelly. (All generic, thus not earning a trademark or copyright.)
A Classic WWII Clark Bagel from 1941. Frankly, I could use some jam.
This bagel shop has been here since 1940. It was originally called Clark Bagel™, named after a big-eared mustached actor of the time, Clark Gable who apparently and frankly didn’t give a damn. Over time, it went through many incarnations without once closing the door for business. It was Aesop’s Bagels™, The Tower Of Bagel™, Sittin’ On The Dock Of The Bagel™, Wake And Bagel™, Bagel Watch™; a few fast food corporations tried their hand with Bagel Bell® and East coast quick-to-fail franchise, Bay Gull’s Bagels (Failed to launch so they never got a proper trademark), even Sonny Bono gave it a shot with I Got You Bagel™. For the last twelve years, it’s been called Bageltarium™.
On December 21, 1970, the meeting of paranoid minds talk about Watergate. To clarify, Elvis was greatly impressed by the presidential toilet.
If Elvis Aron Presley was anything, he was “regular” and this Christmas was no different. In fact, he was so regular this morning; he had already flushed twice. The bathroom fan was industrial as all get out, and it was doing its job loudly and proficiently. Instead of the stench of poop and urine, it was replaced by myrrh and frankincense. Elvis moaned as a turd snaked out of his orifice obscured by pearly white porcelain. There was a plop, water splashed on his unbeknownst to him, growing white ass cheeks. No one in his posse dared to tell ‘E’ that he was gaining weight. For good measure, Elvis flushed again. He laughed out loud thinking about his honor bound duty.
The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
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