Still More Really Bad Things

These things would also still be really bad:

– youtuberculosis

– a pipe dreamcatcher

– a lemonstration

– SpongeBob SquarePanty lines

– a wire tapioca pudding

– vending machine guns

– a gummy bearskin rug

– a flying saucercumcision

– heretic tacs

– a beatnik knack

– a commuter train of thought

– alkaline dancing … or just line dancing

– an absolooting

– a Welcome Back cotter pin

– a time share cropper

– having a hobby hoarse throat

– obscurvy

– kangarulers

– a suicide salad

– a punctured eardrum kit

– a saltwatermelon

– a tuna meltdown

– cheetah tahs!

– a chocolate barstool pigeon

– a toxic waste band

– a daffodil pickle

– a combination lockness monster

– a window psilocybin mushroom omeletter of recommendation

 

note: I do have “a coffee mugging” … now!

double note:  Really Bad Things  and More Really Bad Things  are still fake furmenting.

triple note:

quadruple note: sorry I haven’t been frequenting all your awesome blogs … frequently and on a regular basis non sporadically: “hit shappens” or something like that. Bork is a Witch!

 

http://humor-blogs.com/

The Depressed Kangaroo

 

Before Johnny 23 hit the dead pig, I had my own incident.

see Johnny 23 Can’t Drive  

 https://planetross.wordpress.com/2008/04/14/johnny-23-cant-drive/ 

3 of us left Alice Springs, turned right at 3 Ways, and were making good time on our way to Cairns.
About 9pm we stopped at a service area, filled our tank, and had a hot meal in the restaurant populated by long haul truckers.
On the way out the door everyone stopped eating and stared at us.
“Mind the roos”, advised the waitress.

We smiled, nodded, and left.
It felt like a scene out of American Werewolf in London.

I got behind the wheel. We were all laughing because we had yet to see a kangaroo on the drive from Alice Springs.

10 minutes down the road, the area was crawling with kangaroos: hundreds of them!
I slowed down for a few kilometres, and then gradually accelerated until we were barreling along at a steady 90 km/h.
Everything was fine until I noticed something in my peripheral vision flying towards the car from 15 meters away.

The kangaroo landed directly in front of the station wagon.

I ran over it convincingly.

I stopped the car, banned myself to the backseat, and waited for the others to come back from inspecting my handy work.

To this day, I still believe the kangaroo committed suicide.