My plan was dancing along the street singing out wonderful songs. However, it was then shot and drop-kicked in the ass several times. From there, it desprately fought to get up, but a mugger attacked it and knifed it down to the ground. A drunk bum wandering the street decided to take a piss on the plan--lucky the plan was unconcious and was unaware.
The plan was found by two kind patrons, but while in the hospital Nurse Beaver gave it food poisoning with Jello (if Man-pretty is reading this: yes, Jello can go bad despite its jiggly goodness...or can it....?).
The plan currently remains in a coma.
Oh, and Beaver...he COULD kill a kitty; despite the fact I didn't know what that meant until you spelled it out for me!
WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN TO ME?!?!
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3 comments:
I will be a nurse in a couple years. I can revive the plan with some major nursing skillz.
Lemons,
worry not. i realized something much like what you are now. Being without a real girlfriend for two years does that to a man. you realized you dont need a "special someone," as much fun as it is. im the beaver
anyway, tell the drunken bum to save our walls and piss on his legs. That way he can stop complaining about being cold.
As for food poisining, that was my special beaver juice, ya know.
one more hint: killing kitties is A SOLO ACT. Random cannot kill someone else's kittie, only his own. But, he can't, as we've gone over.
Wow. I think you secretly told me two meanings for "kill the kitty."
I'm confused....
Special Beaver juice...wow.
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