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Topic Review (Newest First)
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| Oct 18th, 2007 09:52 AM | |||||
| Emu | I can't compete with that! I'm an ameteur :< | ||||
| Oct 18th, 2007 01:25 AM | |||||
| MLE | Not nearly as good but still funny. McClain still wins. ;< | ||||
| Oct 17th, 2007 10:21 PM | |||||
| Emu |
Let me try! Quote:
Quote:
Quote:
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| Oct 17th, 2007 02:21 PM | |||||
| MLE | YES <3 | ||||
| Oct 17th, 2007 12:39 PM | |||||
| McClain | I have a few more that have never seen the light of day. Perhaps I'll share them with members of the most cynical forum? | ||||
| Oct 16th, 2007 07:30 PM | |||||
| Cfr5 | Yes, a full collection would be the shit. The good kind. | ||||
| Oct 16th, 2007 02:52 PM | |||||
| MLE | And everything not holy | ||||
| Oct 16th, 2007 02:51 PM | |||||
| Grislygus | Thank everything holy for the remaining awesome people around here. | ||||
| Oct 16th, 2007 12:55 PM | |||||
| MLE | I want a full collection of these open letters and classifieds. | ||||
| Oct 16th, 2007 10:35 AM | |||||
| McClain |
An Open Letter to Elmer McFittzins While I cannot prove beyond a reasonable doubt that you're responsible for the large pile of dog feces found on the driver’s seat of my dad's station wagon, my intuition senses your guilt. 1) Your family has three dogs; two Sharpeis and a Pit Bull. This means you're the only person in the neighborhood with access to that much dog crap. Sure, Mrs. Kringle has that impish toy lap dog Tinkle but we all know that its anus was removed due to that unfortunate lawn dart incident last summer. And even if it could squat to drop deuces like a normal dog, the substance would more resemble strings of fish crap than the coke-can sized logs of shit that smudged the tan cross-hatch fabric of dad's car. This makes you the prime suspect. Unless somehow Mrs. Kringle collected Tinkle's feces from his colostomy bag and stored them in a large container until she had an ample amount to place on the car seat, then refrigerated them to a malleable state so she could mold them in to something larger... But that's kinda' far fetched! Based on the consistency of the doo I'd have to say that it was supple and malleable, not juicy like the doo that collects in Tinkle's poo bag. 2) You knew that my father never locked his car doors. I'm almost certain that you overheard my mother yell to my father to "lock the damn doors" on several occasions. The first time she yelled because someone took her collection of Wheat Pennies from the coin tray (She had every year sans 1948 and 1949) and the second time because someone turned on all the switches so when Dad got in everything was supposed to go haywire. But all that really happened was that the wipers started going, the hazards started blinking and NPR was blasting at an unreasonable volume. Although my father's retort to mom was honest in that no person in their right mind would try to steal a 1984 Colt vista with a wooden bumper, it was mom's maternal instincts that time has proven equitable. 3) You were mad at my family because my mother said you couldn't stay for dinner on Tuesday. We were having ham & 1000 bean soup, but because there wasn't enough food for you my parents asked you to go home. Who wants that crap anyway? I remember it was funny that I thought that because you stormed out of our house saying, "Who wants that crap anyway?" 4) The poop had corn in it. Everyone in the neighborhood is aware that you feed your pets table scraps, and it's widely known that the McFittzins’ are starch junkies. And everyone knows that starch is basically polymerized sugars which explain why all the kids in your family are off-the-wall. I once saw your younger sister scale a giant oak tree and start chewing acorns while they were still attached to the tree. My father's reaction wasn't pleasant and his first order of business was to harangue me and my brother in to confessing who did it, as if one of us were somehow responsible. My father pisses me off sometimes but never to the extent that I would build a pyramid of poo on his car seat. But he was convinced that we knew who did it and we were protecting their identity. I thought he was going to choke us. And to make matters worse, my mom, with a cynical smirk on her otherwise angelic face, shook her head at him and made the motion of a key being inserted in to a lock and turned. It was barbaric! Because we're too poor to keep a set of latex gloves readily available, my father resorted to turning plastic shopping bags inside out to expunge the excrement. Dad is a salesman and although he doesn't have much as far as material things are concerned (like latex gloves), he cherishes his business suits. He refused to drive the car while wearing his slacks. This led me to explain to Mrs. Kringle why my father was standing beside a pile of shit with no pants on that morning. She’s a godly old woman and it was hard to explain otherwise, so I made up a tale about Satan spiritually attacking our family with dog shit. This seemed like a reasonable explanation to her because she nodded her head almost as if to say, “Yes, I’ve seen such evil things.” What a dumb old crow. Although it's been weeks since the incident, my father still has to sit on a stack of paper bags the size of a phone book. The smell is awful, and to make matters worse, my mother rolls up the windows and locks the doors at night for fear of a repeat incident. I remember my dad asking why she can’t leave at least a crack in the windows so the car can aerate. “Not like they’re going to squeeze dog shit through that little crevice!” he said. “Don’t say shit around the kids,” she replied. Come morning time the car smells like a kennel and when my father drives down the road he leaves a break of dog-dung aroma in his path. When I'm sitting in the back seat I can see other drivers' faces contort and their heads swivel as they search for the culprit of this stench. I had a notion it was you, but I knew it for sure when you gave me a Little Tree Pine Cone Air Freshener. I’ll be watching you Elmer. And I’ll be watching your dogs take a shit. Wait, that didn’t come out right. |
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