#dancing turtle

♩♬♪ "Let's get this party started!" ♬♪♩

silly little red eared sliders

Hettii wine glad from the Michigan glass project in Detroit

“Let’s get this party started!” beauty-funny-trippy

MY HEART! SO CUTE!!!

In the City of Fat Children there lived a man whose name, as usual, is long forgotten. And these art the descendents of the man whose name was long forgotten: The long-forgotten man begat Melchizedek. And Melchizedek begat Ka-boom. And Ka-boom begat Ka-thwomp. And Ka-thwomp begat Ka-thump. And Ka-thump begat Ka-thwimp (for the generations of his family had slimmed down). And Ka-thwimp begat Laban. And Laban begat Abimelech. And Abimelech begat Enosh. And Enosh begat the Man Who Invented the Sandwich. And the Man Who Invented the Sandwich begat Naphtali. And Naphtali begat the Fat Man Who Sat Down Too Fast. And the Fat Man Who Sat Down Too Fast begat Zebulun. And Zebulun begat Phallu. And Phallu begat Ryo-Ohki, who finally ate enough carrots and didst grow up to be a spaceship and begat Phuvah. And Phuvah begat Ard. And Ard begat Obal. And Obal begat Amram. And Amram begat Hur. And Hur begat Bozkath. And Bozkath begat Zilpah the Nudist. And Zilpah the Nudist begat Zippor. And Zippor begat Mahlon. And Mahlon begat Android 16. And Android 16 begat Hepher. And Hepher begat Libnah. And Libnah begat Gad. And Gad begat Padanaram. And Padanaram begat Mr Goodbar. And Mr Goodbar begat Hans. One day, Hans was watching over the field. ’Twas raining, and the sheep were shrinking, when two men and a Faerie didst approach him. ‘Ho!’ quoth Hans. ‘Who art thou?’ ‘Who da ho?’ Nori the Cursing Faerie didst demand indignantly. ‘I am called Scoot the Ko’An, the First Apostle of Hondo,’ quoth the first dude, ‘and this is the Pope of Hondo, Trampus Canaster. Who art thou?’ ‘I am Hans,’ quoth Hans. ‘I watch over the field. Every day it raineth, and every day the sheep, they shrinketh. This job, it stinketh! It shall drive me to drinketh! There is nothing to do here but watch the sheep shrink from day to day.’ And Matt, the God of Everything Else, didst appear before them as a dancing turtle and said unto them: ‘Thy prayers have been answered. From henceforth, thou shalt not be called Hans. Thy name shalt be Fritz Skanky-Bitch, and thy title Brian. Thou shalt be our Sacrificial Goat.’ ‘Sacrificial Goat?’ quoth Hans. ‘But…’ ‘There shall be no buts in the presence of the Gods of Hondo,’ spake Matt. ‘Thou shalt be “sacrificed” by being made immortal and tortured for 8000 millenniums. But fear not, for that day is far off; remember, eternity, my friend, is a long fucking time. ‘Now thou shalt join Scoot and Trampus in their quest to find the evil Technomage and force him to exorcise the Holo-Demon which haunteth Scoot. Dost thou understand, Brian Fritz Skanky-Bitch?’ ‘Ah, this is for the birds!’ quoth Brian Fritz. ‘I shall let that dimwit Bob the Liar watch the sheep! They canst shrink all by themselves!’ ‘Cast off thy cares,’ quoth Trampus, ‘for a herring is just a herring, but a good Cuban is a cigar! Thine eyes shall behold strange women and thine heart shall utter perverse things. In the Hour of Scurrying, give a potion to seven, and also to eight, for he that diggeth a pit shall fall into it.’ ‘What he sayeth,’ quoth Scoot. ‘Ahem…’ Nori didst tap her foot on thin air. And so Scoot didst once again thwack Trampus upside the head with his staff. ‘Whither shall we go now, O Scootly One?’ asked Brian Fritz. ‘Wherever so the winds taketh us,’ quoth Scoot. ‘But ’tis a long story. I shall tell it to thee on the way.’ And so Scoot didst take the entire journey to nowhere to tell his tale.