Not to brag or anything, but I believe I am having an effect on Rockstar Tailor's writing style. Yesterday her mother Hardingfele called me in a big panic and said, "You didn't post that story about Hairspray yet, did you?" I said that I did, but I did not call her by Hardingfele's affectionate nickname for her. Hardingfele heard that she could be the cousin thirteen times removed of the dental hygenist of the sister-in-law of the dog walker of someone who may possibly have been mentioned on this blog before, but I said nobody would ever figure that one out. Just to be sure, Hardingfele read my post, and so did Rockstar Tailor. Then we went on a walk, and Rockstar Tailor told us the following story:
Ivy and Olivia wanted to take the elevator to the 800th floor, but they accidentally took it to the negative 56th floor, so Olivia was all polite and asked the receptionist if it was the 800th floor, but the receptionist ignored her so Ivy was all, "Yo, dude! Is this the 800th floor?"
Commercial Break: Is your current plumber ugly? Call 1-800-blah-blah-blah in the next 10 seconds to upgrade now.
Then Ivy and Olivia were in the 1890's and all the ladies were staring at them because of their clothes, so the Bloober gave them poofy dresses. Then he said they were made of marshmallows, so Ivy and Olivia ate the dresses. [I'm not saying these dresses were Peep dresses, and I'm not saying they were not Peep dresses, but the fact remains that they were made of marshmallows - FH] YUM!!! They were soooo good! The end.
I couldn't have said it better myself.
Famous Hat
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2 comments:
Rockstartailor's post are something between stream of consciousness and 4th grade fantasy
Toque says they sound like Tailor has ADD.
WV: Mizqy. My new Iraqi masseur.
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