Memes from the land of WTAF

Sometimes inspiration hits you like a thousand plastic turtles in your cochles. These are remnants of those times…

They went underground like veteran sewer rats fleeing a clown-driven ambulance. Everything caught fire in a flourish of dimpled marshmallow.

“Cactile Undergarments awaken gyroscopic renal harmony.”

“Gargling fungal decay softens the undertones of daily intravenous fruit loop consumption.”

“Double blind studies are hard to see. Capsicum drops can restore visual acuity.”

– advice of Dr. Ambrose Styx, DMT MD
Gilbert Timeclimb, Pataphysician: Discovered the Quantum Cheeseburger Anomaly
New 5th Dimensional Album Out Now: Only on Notify – Required DMT provided by our sponsor, The Blow Slogan Experience.
Date Night at its place?

Two things became evident in the aftermath of all that had transpired: 1. She wasn’t going to the skydive ball. 2. Aardvarks the world over were sworn enemies of American style freedom.
The full socio-political ramifications of the kazoo incident have yet to be fully understood.

Mildred Onyxlamb official caretaker of the United States Congress’ External Organ Vaults
And it shall come to pass on the 23 day from the 3rd Gibbous Moon from the Autumnal Equinox. Then Gertrude the Defiler will tear open the sky and stick her head in to say “hello” to the dead, who shall all wave back.
We were three creamed hams and a pitcher of egg yolk gravy into the meal when Gertrude Sourstew appeared with a decade of head cheese. Gertie, of the Frothingut line, was breed and butterwurst Culinary Royalty, not an upstart franchise debutante. Naturally, we all despised her.
The pickle stand had stood for a thousand years.
And now it was gone.
Final resting place of countless hopes and dreams, endpoint of 5 epic quests to save humanity’s baking supplies, and resting place of the aardvark Queens, the pickle stand disappeared like a margarita Tuesday.
His unguents and tinctures, salves and essences tinkled and clinked together as Air Force One banked sharply away from the coast on it’s ascent to spellcasting altitude. Across from the President, Merlin scanwattled in diswrist. “Unleash 5 Algonquin Clockworks, Theta Pattern…”
The seams came partly unbuttoned and reality was showing for an hour or so. Then some men in cheap knock off black suits and $5 gas station sunglasses showed up and beat us with extendable batons while some zookeeper mofo tried to button the seams again.
The sausage truck was late as usual, but Herbert didn’t mind. He was everyone’s spare tire these days and he ran on nothing but greasy compressed air.

Sometimes the ducklings would follow him home, but not today. They had important matters to discuss with the CEO of Monsanto.

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