Predict the Death of the Previous Poster

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
481

Zweistein was a two-fisted drinker, oh, yes. “Bartender, make it a double!” was his cry, when he wasn’t quaffing beer with a mug in each hand. “I can handle it,” he’d say, when sober friends would suggest he was drinking too much. “I’ve got two hollow legs, and a spigot in between – HAW HAW HAW!!!”

Alas, one day, just a he’d slugged down another keg’s worth of pale ale, a kidney stone went slithering down his internal apparatus and lodged in just the right position to block his faucet. The hydraulic pressure built up with amazing speed, and before medical help could be summoned, the (ahem) huge head burst through the blockage, rupturing every internal organ within his gut.

The EMTs had to don hipboots to reach the body.

482

EddyTeddyFreddy, you decide to take in a football game on Sunday, December 21st. As you make your way down the steps to your seat, you see a small cat near the edge of the dropoff to the second level. “Oh, I must save him!” - you race down the remainder of the stairs, trip over a beer vendor, and plunge to your death over the balcony.

It turns out that it wasn’t a cat after all - and it laughed as you flew over the railing. On the bright side, a silent moment was recognized at halftime in honor of your (quite messy) passing.

483

Blonde’s father always thought that laughter was the best medicine, which explained why several of them died of tuberculosis.

484

It’s been 5 long days, and the Grim Reaper is getting a little anxious.
BellaDellaItalia:

It’s the weekend before Christmas, and what will you do,
Another paycheck spent, and you’re feeling so blue,
And so, it’s the weekend before Christmas,
Let’s drive to the mall,
And hope it’s not too crowded by one and all.

It’s the weekend before Christmas,
Bella sits on Santa’s lap, what fun ;),
It can’t be a good thing,
That his elves are pointing that big gun.

And so this is Christmas,
And what have we learned?
Don’t mess around with jealous elves,
Lest you end up burned.

For the love of Christmas Past, that sucked. I’m a little rusty at this killing game!

485

Blonde, was that a warped version of Happy Christmas by John Lennon? Interesting… unless I’m wrong. That’s my favorite holiday song, though.

Blonde died while sitting on Santa’s lap last Friday morning at the local shopping mall. The bad rent-a-Santa killed her because her list was too long and he’d had to potty really bad! He’d also had quite enough of little children pinching his rosy red cheeks and poking his tummy to see if it jiggled like a bowl full of jelly. It did and not because of jelly. He had a belly full of beer. So, in turn… beer turned to water and he had to make… really bad!

** Blonde** had kept listing off her wanted Christmas goodies unaware of Santa’s full and painful bladder. He finally had to push her off his lap and she fell into several elves that didn’t take too kindly to having a full-sized and buxom blonde woman falling into their midst… hey, wait a second… blonde, buxom, short-skirted woman… falling… into… the middle… of some… lonely, lil elves. MALE elves, to be exact. Hmmmm… Maybe she’s not dead, maybe they took her to the North Pole.
To be continued…

486

****** :smack: :smack: :smack: ******

Blonde was looking for a new sport to try, a new form of exercise that would be fun, different, and a great calorie-burner. Idly, she flipped through trendy women’s magazines, looking for something that would fit the bill.

And then she saw it: boxing! Okay, the shorts are kinda weird, but the gloves would protect her nails, and it sure would sweat off all those extra holiday pounds!

Blonde hurried on down to the local gym and signed up for a beginner’s course. She got outfitted with all the gear, in a lovely turquoise and gold color scheme, and showed up, all agog, for her first lesson the next morning. She was bouncing on her toes, tentatively swinging a fist, when in walked her instructor:

Mike Tyson.

487

<sigh> Too bad Blonde had talked SanguineSpider into joining the boxing course too.

:smack:

488

SanguineSpider - yes, you have witnessed the destruction of Lennon’s song.

We could both take Mike Tyson in a second - but alas, ETF tripped over the ropes and de-railed what would have been a truly brief fight: 3 death vixens against Mike.

The bad news: ETF is no more.
The good news: Tyson is no more.

489

Quietly paddling her boat deep in the Everglades, Blonde was poaching alligators. For Christmas, she was going to make an alligator skin litter box for EddyTeddyFreddy, a gator skin sword scabbard for SanguineSpider’s upcoming Babes With Blades New Year’s Edition photo shoot, and a flashy, gator claw and tooth jewelry set for BellaDellaItalia. Blonde had forgotten how chilly the night air gets on the swamps in December, but thankfully she had brought her trusty bottle of Jack Daniels to knock the chill off. So far it had been a slow night. She had bumped into something she thought might be a gator, but it turned out to be just a dead body, so she kept searching. Bored with the wait, Blonde decided it might be relaxing to smoke her pipe for a while. She pulled it out of her pocket, filled the bowl with her own special blend, and tamped it to a perfect compression. Feeling around in the darkness, she located her lighter and lifted the pipe to her lips.

Just as she flicked her Bic, she realized what a mistake it was to try and smoke in Florida’s very own methane factory … oops! Rumor has it, Blonde’s light show could be seen as far away as Cuba.

490

peritrochoid was trying to fix his Mazda, when his shirt sleeve got caught by the rotary engine; the neighbours found him dripping off the muffler; all in all, about 140 pounds of grounded meat

491

Ale was so proud – the Christmas tree in his penthouse apartment was in place, beautifully ornamented, and all the presents, elegantly wrapped, were nestled at its base. He wanted a better look at the overall effect, and stepped back through the French doors to the balcony. Just as he did so, a large orange cat dashed by his ankles, hellbent for the tinsel on a lower branch.

Ale bellowed with rage and flung himself after the cat, who took fright and scrambled up to the top of the now wildly swaying tree. There it clung desperately to the crowning angel figurine as Ale tried furiously to drag it off.

With both hands wrapped around the cat’s body, Ale gave one last mighty yank. AHA! he thought, as the resistance to his pulling suddenly stopped. ACK! he thought, as he realized that there was no more resistance because the entire tree was now toppling over upon him and the orange cat he still clutched as he staggered backward.

Ale tried to dump the cat and jump away from the descending spruce, but the orange feline, by now infuriated, whipped around and sank its teeth into his forearm. Ale shrieked in shock and pain, flung himself frantically backward, and toppled over the balcony railing, tree and cat tumbling with him.

SMASH!!! The tree landed on the lawn at the base of the apartment tower, ramming in butt first, and by a random miracle stayed upright. Alas, Ale, by another random – well, miracle isn’t quite the right word for the way Ale assumed the duties of tree angel.

The cat landed on its feet, swiped a pawful of tinsel, and walked away.

492

Seeing as how Blonde is a vegetarian and animal lover, she drives up to peritrochoid’s abode with ten beautiful alligators. Blonde, slightly high from the fine Florida weed, veered sharply into his house. Everyone escaped injury - except peritrochoid - as it turned out, the gators were carnivores as well.

BellaDellaItalia, ETF and SanguineSpider smiled from the shadows - Man-eaters rejoice!

493

quote:

The cat landed on its feet, swiped a pawful of tinsel, and walked away.

ETF - you may have stumbled upon a universal truth; let us all strive to land on our feet!

494

Blonde landed on her feet.

After falling off the Golden Gate Bridge.

Onto, then into, the Bay.

Glug.

495

Blonde loved the circuss since she had use of reason; she always dreamed of working on a circuss, any job would do, anything to get into that exciting life. One day Blonde decided it was just time to do it, “do it now!” she said to herself, she looked up for the nearest circuss, and in what seemed like just one minute she was there at the managers office.
The manager said that the only vacancy was for the Human Bullet act, Blonde didn´t even thought about it, she said yes without hesitation.
And so Blonde became the circuss Human Bullet, she learned the art of being shoot off a cannon, flying in a gracious curve and landing on a net. Blonde was overblown with joy for her new life; she wanted to excel at her act, and so after some weeks came up with a new variation.
The plan was to strap herself with 30 pounds of fireworks, which would make her look like a blazing comet as she flied over the arena, “yes” she though, “this will drive the public crazy”.
It did.
After her first act as the Blonde Comet some people went into therapy just to forget the image of Blonde blowing up as all the fireworks exploded at the same time; the ones that were plastered with gore may never recover.

496

Ale was driving along the freeway one gloomy night, heading from his house to somewhere else and heading fast! The radio was jammin’, it was LOUD, the beat was groovin’ and Ale was “car dancing” in his seat as he drove. The song was a good one and he shut his eyes for a second when the guitar solo began, hands off the steering wheel as Ale strummed along on air guitar, oh yeah, baby… THUMP THUMP

WHAT THE FRICK WAS THAT?? His eyes popped open as he felt his whole car pass over what seemed a HUGE object in the road and he grabbed the wheel in pure fright, steadying his car and pulled over to the side of the freeway. His heart was thudding in his chest so he took a few deep breaths to calm himself before getting out to see what the heck he’d hit. He looked out the driver-side window and saw… nothing. Huh?

Out the car door he went, leaving it open just in case someone needed help. He could not imagine what it might be but he’d felt something massive under his tires and he was still wary. Walking out behind his car and into the roadway, he looked around and still saw… nothing. Scratching his head in bemused but wary confusion, he started back toward his open car when all of a sudden a huge, black shape came winging down at him WHOOSH! from the dark and dreary night sky!

Ale fell as the THING flew up and past him, it’s darkness blacker than the blackness of the sky and saw it turning back on him! WTF, his mind stuttered in shock and he looked up, hunched over protectively as the THING flew over him again with a huge WHOOSHING noise like a hundred fans all going at once. It was BIG, this THING and he scrambled to his feet, heading back to the safety of his vehicle. Ale could feel the massive shape looming over him as he ran and he screamed out in pure terror as from out of the darkness, clawed hands snatched him from the earth!

He soared away from terra firma, mind babbling with unspoken horror, his body rigid with fear. He watched his car getting smaller and smaller in his vision, the freeway becoming a set of lines, thinning out as he rose. The black gloom of the sky pervaded his every sense, except for his nose. All he could smell was an overpowering, animalistic musk that made him want to gag. It made his brain foggy and he began to drool as he flew in the THING’s grasp. The sky and earth turned, zooming and spinning, his sense of direction skewed beyond any sort of coherent comprehension. Closing his eyes without conscious thought, his body went limp as the THING flew higher into the blackness…
“Family and friends continue to keep up the search for the whereabouts of the young man who, on deciding to leave his home last Wednesday evening to go out for a casual drive, has since never returned. No phone calls, no letters, no hints at all where Ale might have gone. The family is asking for any and all help or information in this matter…”

497

Cannabalistic garden knomes boil and eat your flesh while you’re still alive!

498

Heyyy, Blonde, you know I only eat dogs and small children!

Too bad my buddys SanguineSpider and ETF only eat people with no vowels. (They’re allergic.)

499

Everyone agreed that there was absolutely no reason for BellaDellaItalia to be looking out for grand pianos falling out of the clear blue sky, but they also agreed that on this particular occasion it sure would have been a good idea.

500

Gyrate had always wanted a pony for Christmas as a kid. Even now, as an adult, the secret longing lurked in his heart. Imagine his delight, then, when on Christmas Day 2003 he found a real, live Shetland pony under his tree, with a big red ribbon tied around its neck, and a “To Gyrate, Merry Christmas!” tag.

Gyrate was so excited! He didn’t even stop to put on shoes instead of slippers, or a jacket over his pajamas, as he took the pony’s lead rope and ran outside to play with it. Slam! The door went behind him, and with a sinking feeling, he realized it had automatically locked, and he had no keys… and no one was around. No one at all.

Gyrate tried to huddle next to the pony for warmth, but the contrary little critter ducked out from under him and galloped off in search of some grass. Gyrate ran after it, pleading for it to come back, come back! Even when the pony dashed into the woods, Gyrate pursued it.

The search party found his frozen body three days later. Grazing beside it was a cheerful, fuzzy little pony. “Odd,” thought one of the searchers, “what a wretched way to go, yet he has a smile on his face.”