|Merle K. Troxell|
Subject: who has the highlights!|
I have a pretty swell idea of who the culprits are who drawed dirty picture in chicken excrement in the library's collection of Highlights Magazines. You may think this a clever ruse, but you didn't count on how smart I am.did ya? no, I think not........unless you come in on Saturday and remove the offending chicken excrement neo-neolithic cave drawings on the Highlights, I will inform your father.. who bludgeoned the christmas bulbs with an axe in your Dad's front yard. And if your lucky, Winnie will hang you on the doorknob by your belt, while Ernie truns empty schmidts bottles at your cabeza.
Don't mess with me, jerk off
| RE: who has the highlights!|
At a dental clinic when I was eight, I sat there over a Highlights
Magazine for twenty minutes waiting for my Aunt Glenna to
finish having her plate tweaked. I was stuck on a hidden object
puzzle, unable to locate the kite with the key, when a middle
aged gentleman with a rather large head was walked out of one
of the offices and seated in a chair oposite me. "Just sit him
here by the door, he'll get the hint" said the large and muscular
hygenist, as she twirled her perfectly waxed mustache in
triumph. "It took enough novacane to knock out the Harlem
Globetrotters, to knock this shithead out!". She returned to her
office and closed the door.
From somewhere deep in the office I heard power tools and
Aunt Glenna's throaty screams.
After about ten minutes the big headed guy began sweating,
sweat started running down his head like a waterfall. He started
whimpering and convulsing, finally he seemed to reach a calm
state and was humming an Adolph Greene tune when Aunt
Glenna made her way to the lobby. Her face was swollen big as
a pumkin, she had gauze coming from her mouth and trailing
behind her back into the offices.
She stopped and clutched her head, her eyes rolled back, she
bent over placing her hand on the water fountain to steady
herself. She farted low and long, like a jack brake on the Jersey
Turnpike, and then fell to the ground.
I lept to my feet to try and help her, but I was over come by
the stench, it smelled like the fire at the zoo that time when all
those apes died. I started crossing towards her, fanning the air
with the Highlights Magazine. The bigheaded guy came too and
started screaming "Give me the magazine you little shit". He
started chasing me around the lobby. Our shoes built up an
incredible static charge on the berber carpet, and when his white
and hammy hand touched my ear and neck it set out a blue
static spark that cracked like lightining. The spark hit the
methane and ignited, a fire cloud flashed through the building,
there was a massive succusion and implossion, we were all
knocked senseless. As the paramedics were carrying the
bigheaded guy out on the gurney, he screamed out, "Goofus and
Gallant are fags!". As they were closing the door he
shouted,"ask your bitch mother why they don't have centerfolds
in Highlights Magazine" and they shut the doors.
| RE: who has the highlights!|
I also cried when the apes burned...........cried with delight ! I bet Earl had a few Highlights with him when he went a dumpin' in the utility room back i days of yore, on Sherwood St. that were a pretty good story you wrote, although I had trouble understanding all of the words. That guy with the big head coulda been an old friend of mine named Jerry Charles. He once performed at the Nixon white house, but he got all filpped ott on dope with some members of the Turtles rock and roll group m and Logus were drinking shots of old Mr. Boston Rocking Chair Tequila and the combination of the dope and the booze wAS TOO MUCH FOR jERRY, but Logus done allright until he was arrested by secret service guys for something that has never been completely clear. Agnew hit Jerry in the spleen with a spitoon which ruptured (the spleen)and bile started spilling out allover Tricia Nixon's tennis outfit. I don't think she ever dated Jerry after that, what with the bile stains and all......they are really hard to remove, I don't even bother anymore.