Thursday, 29 October 2009

Classroom Exquisite Corpse

Hvad vil du helst?

Fruit grows out of your nose / Vegetables grow out of your armits

Big angel wings / Loads of insect wings over your whole body

Every movement you make is a dance / Your legs are sewn together

Have an ear where your nose is / Have toes instead of fingers

All your movements made a 'woosh' sound / Have a long beard like Gandalf

Have a hook for a hand / Have a wooden leg

Have penises instead of teeth / Have penises instead of fingers

Have an mp3 player constantly in your ears playing 'My heart will go on' / Have a balaclava on constantly

Lose your short term memory but remember who you are / Lose your long term memory but keep your short term memory

Sharpen the first knuckle of your finger to a point / Have Keld's beard as it is now, forever

Have a clown's red nose tatooed on your nose / Have 10 toes on each foot

All your clothes for the rest of your life are made of teddy-bear fur / Have someone put toothpicks up your nails repeatedly for a week

All your body hair is made of fried onions / You sweat remoulade

Monday, 26 October 2009

One Word Each

There was a twentyfive-spotted man who used socks as feet, until that big nun hijacked his eighteen beautiful mother bears yesterday evening. "What was interesting? Except the trees, the jeeps of dirt, and nice were captured right or not." said Nice. Glenn thought for a few weeks about my pillows. Then he visited his most disgusting nephews in town. Afterwards, when Hogan was 8, nice gave up. Glenn blacked out. Then along shuffled a mill-hunter who surivied Easter. Smell bough nice. Mis never ran in train station unless sleepy. The twentyfive-spotted man went inside Beef-Wellington. Battle-Funhouse realised that was naughty. Hmmm, thought Glenn, whenever nice fell for bath underneath his tent cigarette. "Holy House! Your scent drives me uptown! girl!" he sang to himself. "Taxidrivers must never remember cabbage cake" replied smell. "Which one of you do you mean?" he shouted, while nice observed obsessively. "Shit." Smell shat on the ground. "What on Mars has he shot with wooden bullets!". "It's I" retorted Mr Mis. You never felt alienated when you wore a pair of shiny, glass trousers every Tuesday? Certainly that would comply the motherfucking peacocks word games!", a passing colecovision shouted. Even Glenn was excited about his own private fashtank service! Smell ate his balls. Nice when outside and wondered if it was time to go inside. It seemed plausible that my fake shark's appendix has a good pepperspray-feel, but mill-hunter sailed to more pleasant and juicy parts of breakfast-land. Often I couldn't play chess upside down. Often I couldn't play chess upside down. Battle-Funhouse wept cranberry juice all day long. Glenn left smell alone because they rocked, one-two-seventy-three pumpkins every hour, every whale. "Don't try paintball brushes, babe! Try homegrown elephant grass instead." said the twentyfive-spotted man.