Sinister: Belle and Sebastian Mad Libs!

[Delaware9 at xxx.com]

Hello!  My friend Lesley Jo filled you all in last week on our exploits in
Washington DC, but I thought that you might also be interested in reading the
silly Mad Libs we composed on our trip.  The first one was written right after
we got to DC, when we were sitting in a Greyhound station at 4 in the morning
with nothing to do.  It is pretty funny cos while it was a teenybopper fantasy
of meeting B&S, and we laughed abt how sad we were, it actually came true
later on...Well the meeting part at least :)  And the second one was written
in the back of the Black Cat during soundcheck while we were trying to act
kool abt the whole situation.  You will be happy to know that these tales
provide 5% of the Recommended Daily Allowance of Smut.  Dirty Dreams #1 and
#2?  Not to mention that, as Lesley pointed out, the second one was composed
with Stu M's (nonexistent) arse about a foot away.  So, um, keeping that in
mind...

#1
The golden Stu M was chilling with his band in DC when he decided that he
should do some sightseeing.  He didnt want to see that babealicious Washington
Monument or the girly White House.  He didnt want to eat at another Nipple
Cave.  He hopped on a city bus at Hockey Hair and Isobel Streets and decided
to be on the lookout for a thrift store so he could buy more rabid jumpers and
some new flares.  He was having fun looking out the windows at all the
dipsticks, corpses, and bowheads of this crazy city, uninterrupted, until he
heard 2 girls behind him singing loudly and gloriously.  He thought he could
ignore them, but after hearing the lardy phrase "Boom Boom Room" 57 times, he
was verklempt and intrigued.  One of them was wearing a T-shirt that said,
"The Sexually Frustrated Speedos Rock My Socks!" and a 6hnnecklace that said
"I <3 Isobel."  The other had sea green- and ecru-striped pants and a necklace
that said "I <3 Stu M."  "Maybe I have got a chance with these skirts," he
thought.  He was nervous about talking to new people, though, and the first
thing that came out of his mouth was, "Hi, I'm Stuart.  Would you like to go
with me to take pictures of throwup and dead gophers?"  He was a little
surprised when they both fervently agreed.  He then said, "Well, do you mind
if I brought a friend along on our wacky hijinx?  She's been ill and could use
some buxom fun."  The girls agreed to that too and after picking up Stu's wee
bud Isobel, the four had a blast, giving themselves up to the allure of
bustiers and crotchless panties in Washington, DC.


#2
One gorgeous evening, Jess was sloppily looking forward to her growling plans.
She died in front of her full-length colostomy bag and was so pleased with the
results that she immediately called up her crock-pot, Stu, to ask him out for
a quick fingernail.  No sooner had they vomited the aardvark out of the
driveway, than a mighty crouton began to snort over the greasy land.  It threw
them morbidly off the squirrel and into a pile of toothbrushes, where they
gushed in agony.  "Oh Honey Pie, I swear that if you quack hard enough, I will
lubricate you forever!" cried the enthusiastic Jess.  Jokingly, the skanky
Angel of Anger appeared before the belated couple. "Shout not, my pretty
taxicabs," she said as she yawned their uteruses with great fondness.  "I have
arranged for you to be peed-on in the set of Felicity this hour.  Tina Turner
is the resident podiatrist in charge, and their Morrisseyesque program of
festering, siphoning, and chickpeas is guaranteed to cure."  Jess and her
mincer thought about this for quite a while before coughing at the angel's
nostril, "Upchuck! Cheeky concubine," and shoved Stu over a steep flamingo to
the pathetic sound of his screams.  Dragging her bleeding, grooving limbs
behind her, she grabbed the Angel of Animosity and they smoldered away to a
No-Tell Motel, where they retched all nite and day and gave stucco to 78
beautiful, healthy weasels.



Jess





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