Zgderf! I think I've discovered the meaning of life...no idea what the idea I have of what it all means is...maybe if you ask me questions I can find the meaning of life. Y'know, like: "Why are Captain Crunch's eyebrows on his hat?"*** or "How many penguin suicide bombers would it take to conquer the world?" or "Where the hell are my car keys?"

Then something or other happened somewhere in, like, France or something, and then the Enchanted Forest of Opium-Enduced Fantasy caught fire, killing all the fuzzy little animals inside.

The End.

*** Three possibilities:

Possibility #1: The 'Cap's cap is actually a hat-shaped balloon. This enables him to shave his eyebrows and glue the remaining hair together to make 2 eyebrow toupees, rubbing them against his hat/balloon to create static cling, giving him 2 eyebrows on his hat. He must shave his eyebrows every morning to prevent himself from having 4 eyebrows.

Possibility #2: Captain Crunch either does not have eyebrows or shaves them every morning. His eyebrows are actually iron filings which have been painted white, and are held to his cap with a powerful magnet hidden inside, the position of which can be manipulated by off-stage technicians, which enables him to use his eyebrows in facial expressions.

Possibility #3: The unfortunate Captain inherited a rare disorder from Mrs. Crunch's side of the family known as Blue Hat-Shaped Cranial Syndrome. While the bottom of his head is (relatively) normal, the top of his skull, due to irregular growth, takes on a shape that is very similar to the hat of a ship's captain during puberty. The stress on the skin turns it blue (except for a yellow C). His eyebrows are attached to his head in an abnormally high arch, which makes it appear that his eyebrows are attached to a "hat" that he is wearing when they are actually on his head.


However, his eyebrow abnormality can be most easily be explained by the fact that he is a FREAKING CARTOON CHARACTER!!! Give the guy a break! It's not his fault that the person who drew him had no concept of the human anatomy! Lay off him, alright?

The End...for Realses...

How many penguin suicide bombers would it take to conquer the world?

I'm afraid the answer to that question is classified. Don't worry, though - you'll all be finding out very soon...

Thank you very average amount for responding to this thread. These stories I wrote about two years ago should not cause you any physical harm...unless they smells as good as they reads. One of 'em's in binary code. Hooray for copying and pasting!

Campfire Songs for the Calcium-Deficient: Attack of the 150,000 Crazed and Fully Africanized "Welcome to Disneyworld" Bees - Part IV of the Epic Trilogy

Once upon an infomercial there was a slightly-above-average man living on a slightly-above-average income in a slightly-above-average house with his slightly-above-average children and his slightly-above-average-looking wife in Slightly-Above-Average, Montana. One slightly-above-average day, he was accosted by a slightly-above-averagehero named LAME HAIRY TOAD MAN!!!!!!. (The period is included at the end of the sentence because the six exclamation points are actually part of his name).

"Pardon me, fair citizen," inquired LAME HAIRY TOAD MAN!!!!!! in a fairly polite, relatively mild-mannered tone, "but I need your help! The fate of the Mountain time zone depends upon me! McDonald's has collaborated with the evil scientists at Wal-Mart to release a new hamburger that will turn all denizens of the fair, forgotten Mountain time zone, the time zone of the great Denver Broncos, into Mindless McDonald's/Wal-Mart slaves!!! I must thwart this plan! Unfortunately, my car broke down on the way to their regional headquarters. Can you give me a ride to Denver?"

The slightly-above-average man turned his head to see a septic-tank blue 1991 Geo Metro with flame decals on the side and a vanity plate that read "TOADMBL."

"Well, I don't know...it's kinda early in the morning, and I haven't had my coffee quite yet...besides, with the price of gas the way it is, it would cost a whole lot to go all the way to Denver, and it would probably take all day, so I'd probably miss my favorite TV show, so...no. Go to hell."

After asking about 10 different people, LAME HAIRY TOAD MAN!!!!!! gave up on hitchhiking and decided to use his lame hairy toad powers to hop to Denver, leaping two miles at a time. However, his presence was picked up by NORAD, who mistook him for a Russian bomber. He was shot down by an F-15, whose heat-seeking missiles locked on to his bad breath. The entire Mountain time zone was taken over by Wal-Mart and McDonalds, now under the iron-fisted rule of their evil emperor.

--THE END--

Campfire Songs for the Calcium Deficient - Episode XLVCTHISSUX: The Disco Hour - With Kelsey Grammar

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Campfire Songs for the Calcium Deficient: Part 72 1/3 - THIS TITLE IS BEING USED AS AD SPACE - CALL 1-800-LICK-MY-BUNGHOLE FOR DETAILS

At approximately 8:30 AM, Very Large, Rocky, 14,000-Ft. Hill Standard Time (the Mountain Time Zone had been eradicated by the Joint McDonald's/Wal-Mart takeover followed by a thorough death ray blasting), Lame Hairy Toad Man, America's favorite (and only) slightly-above-averagehero was lying on the couch in the Lame Hairy Toadcave (which was actually his parents' basement) with his sidekick, Random Infinite Oscillating Psychadelic Lizard Hermaphrodite, discussing the day's activities in a civilized, educated manner.

Well, actually, that wasn't really true.

"So, what do you want to do?" asked Random Infinite Oscillating Psychadelic Lizard Hermaphrodite.

"Eh, I dunno. What do you want to do?" replied/asked Lame Hairy Toad Man.

"Eh, I dunno. Whadda you wanna do?"

This continued for several hours, until essentially it had been resolved that their chosen activity that day was to ask each other what they wanted to do.

Then, at approximately 9:47 AM, the Great Big Asteroid About to Hit Earth and Kill Everyone Alarm went off. But they didn't hear it because it was a very quiet alarm (which, in hindsight, was a huge mistake on the part of The World-Famous Holy Crap! It's An Asteroid! Do Something! Detector Corporation, Ltd.), unable to rise above the decibel level of their own mindless back-and-forth line of questioning. The fact that they were lazy was also a major contributing factor.

At 10:10 AM, Very Large, Rocky, 14,000-Ft. Hill Standard Time, a huge asteroid approximately the combined size of Russia and Mongolia slammed into the side of the Earth, blowing the planet to bits for the fourth time in as many weeks. On the bright side, Lame Hairy Toad Man and Random Infinite Oscillating Psychadelic Lizard Hermaphrodite finally had something to do: be dead. However, in the astronomically unlikely event that they survived (which, obviously, they must have already done three times), they could pick up the huge mess that the asteroid made and put the Earth back together. Good luck, boys!

MORAL: Confucius say, "Man who no do difficult job now will have to reassemble the Earth out of space dust with their bare hands later."

THE END

lolz

Random thought: Creativity grows on magical psychotropic trees on Uranus. No two creativity berries are the same.

If the election were held today, would you still vote for Carrot Top?

Nope, I'd cast my vote for Shaggy from the Scooby Doo movie. Sure he seems like a moron but I'll bet he'd be a better president than the one we've had.

I don't know. I suspect you may be swayed by his stance on medical marijuana.

And now, a story before you go to bed. (Well, not RIGHT before you go to bed. I'm just assuming you're awake when you're reading this and you'll be asleep at some point afterwards. Would you like me to tuck you in, munchkin?)



Campfire Songs for the Calcium Deficient, Part Book, Episode Chapter: The Epic Sequel to the Prequel of the Original Epic Seven-Part Trilogy Entitled "Night of the Day of the Dawn of the Son of the Bride of the Return of the Revenge of the Secret of the Wrath of the Terror of the Attack of the Oh Crap We're Running Out of Space on the Poster We'd Better End the Title Right Here" - The Final Chapter of the Beginning (With the Possible Exception of the Many, Many Chapters to Follow, Depending on the Financial Success of THIS Chapter)



Ah, yes. Map of Downtown Peoria. I recognized you when you came in. You have your uncle's forehead. I think he'll be wanting it back now.

NO! No time for pleasantries! We're over-budget as it is! Stop making that ridiculous *SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! 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SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH! SBLSGH!* sound. It's getting on my nerves. Well, every part of them with the exception of the mylon fibers.



There. Now we're even. You get to use my riding lawnmower, I get to keep your eyeballs. You're free to go now. Run along, now, precious.

(Your pancreas is next if you breathe a word of this to Mars Blackmon).

Hilarious.

As a aside, I won an ultimate frisbee tournament in Peoria last April, with friends. Bunch of wily vets crushing newbie college squads.

I didn't realize that ripped-out eyeballs emoticon (a subsidiary of Virtucon) existed.

Not on this forum. I stole it from another one.

(Shh! Don't tell anyone! I am a world-famous emoticon burglar, and I risk tarnishing my mystique if I am caught! Crap. Probably shouldn't have told you that).

BBQ, I don't know what to make of this...

So I won't make anything of it.

Toodle-oo.

*Flies away on magic bowler hat*

Oh great and all knowing sage, can you answer for me an age old question?

Which came first, the chicken or the egg?

Oh and also, which is more powerful, the pirate or the ninja?

The egg came first, but only after the chicken.


I don't know, and I don't want to be anywhere within five miles of any attempt to find out. Anyone within that radius would surely die via collateral damage or even simply by looking at it.

True, very true. There are few who can survive exposure to pure awesome.

I shall have to think on these things great sage, thank you for your wisdom.

My wisdom is available to all who request it.

Random thought: Whither Gary Coleman?

I just realized I posted the same random thought twice. I had to change it to something less funny. I am filled with deep shame.

Why is it that common sense is not particularly common? Perhaps it should have a different name?

If a tree falls in the forest, and there is nobody there to hear it, does it make a sound?

I frequently lose arguments with myself. Why does everyone else think this is weird?

Deep, deep shame.

For some reason, I feel like namedropping Eric Eskola. So that is precisely what I will do.

Good luck finding out who the hell he is!

Is he an American journalist, perchance?

Getting warmer. He's no writer, though. Think local "celebrity."

I have absolutely no idea what this thread is about. I've read it over twice, I even tried reading it backwards, and I still feel like


Whatever it was once about though, I believe it's gone past it's original (and most likely very meaningful, though call me an egg but I can't see it,) point. So before I, and the server hamsters, get even more confused, I'll lock this.


Bbqplatypus, I'd like to advise you to reread our rules regarding double posting and/or "bumping" in our rules thread;
http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=3

Please try and refrain from doing so in the future.

Thanks,

Alex

??? I could've sworn this thread was locked. You just can't stop the crazy. lol

That's what I was thinking.

I blame the hamsters