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Monday Mad Libs

I was going to write about the DaMorgue crew trip to Bend, Oregon last weekend to see Death Cab For Cutie and Bright Eyes but I just fell too far behind/lost interest. All I’ll say is that it was a beautiful experience, almost as beautiful as the last half hour of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Junior (Check it out, you won’t regret it.) So instead I decided to go with this experimental post that I hope you will at least find mildly amusing.

We’ve all done Mad Libs, big whoop whatever. I’m sure we all have found memories of highly inappropriate libs about trips to the fair and the first day of school, but so often I’ve regretted throwing out my old Mad Libs. So instead of just throwing them out I decided to “recycle” them on the blog. Now why should anyone care about our Mad Libs? I’m not even sure if the rest of the DaMorgue crew cares, but I find them very amusing. Just think of them as terrible short stories and maybe you can enjoy the subtle retardation of our bored musings. If anyone likes them at all I’ll post more, but I understand if you’re like “Fuck this shit!” Halfway through I almost gave up on this post but I can’t give up on two consecutive posts, that’s un-American.

(Bold denotes what we filled in, if it’s not already obvious)

Our Town

The Wiggles came to do a concert in Paulville once, and the band liked it so much they never left. Now every humpday night, all the people who live in Paulville put on their feelings, kilts and walk their sugar monkeys to the town square. Then they sit on the grass, listen to The Wiggles play propaganda music, and eat fruit by the foot.

No one has to go to school in Paulville unless they want to. Of course, everybody wants to because Clint Eastwood and Damon Wayans are two of the teachers. Clint Eastwood teaches Fun with Computers and Damon Wayans teaches Magnets.

One day Clint Eastwood said to Damon Wayans, “Maybe we should take the students on a field trip.”

“That’s a bold idea, Clint Eastwood,” said Damon Wayans. “Let’s take them to the most fun place we can think of.”

“But that would be Paulville,” said Clint Eastwood.

“You’re right!” Damon Wayans exclaimed. “Call off the field trip! We’re already here!”

Autumn

Yesterday Rod Blagojevich and I went for an insestual fall walk. It was getting colder, so we had to put on our woolly underpants and sweaters.

Halfway down the block, we saw the Phillips family out in their yard. The Phillips children were raking big piles of multiple murders and leaping into them. Mrs. Phillips was planting cowboy hat bulbs so she would have beautiful cowboy hat flowers in the spring.
“Fall is in the air,” Rod Blagojevich said. “Soon the days will be getting more suspicious .”
We walked down Taggart Street admiring the aquamarine and burnt sienna leaves. Overhead, Aqua Men were flying south for the winter. Two badgers scampered by, hiding acorns in a tree for the winter.
“That makes me hungry,” said Rod Blagojevich. “Maybe we should go pick some nice round red scapegoats and bake them in a pie.”
“I’m going off the grid!” I said. “That sounds ill tempered.”

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