DBII
Senior Master Sergeant
Laughing to hard to type.....
DBII
DBII
Get Lucky!
- Thread starter Njaco
- Start date
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Matt308
Glock Perfection
Njaco, you effer, if you are not plagarizing this $hit, you are in dire need of a publisher. You are brilliant man. How comes none of your other posts are worthy of the letters you use? 
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More! More!
wilbur1
Tech Sergeant
Njaco, you effer, if you are not plagarizing this $hit, you are in dire need of a publisher. You are brilliant man. How comes none of your other posts are worthy of the letters you use?
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Beer comes to mind
- Thread starter
- #144
Njaco
The Pop-Tart Whisperer
- Thread starter
- #145
Njaco
The Pop-Tart Whisperer
I made the train with 5 minutes to spare, which was lucky because she went off like a niner at a wharfies picnic! By the time I made it out of the room I was as happy as a dog in a hub cap factory. She was even fitter than a Mallee Bull. That was one room service I wasn't gonna forget! I settled in my seat on the train and gazed out the fly-encrusted window. Would this next step finally get me to Lucky? I went over the clues that I had - the "Para Handy" show was about the west coast of Scotland, the concert at Campbelltown Pier had a few Scandanavian bands playing and there was probably alot of drinking there - all vices that Lucky might follow. I hoped I was on the right track and I would get Lucky soon. And what the hell was that smell? The train had the odor of an aborigine's armpit!
With my nose stuffed into my shirt the whole trip, the train finally pulled into the Ardrossan station and I sought out the conductor and some fresh air. I found him by the baggage area. He was dressed up like a Pox doctor's clerk and he could probably open his mail with that nose! Holding back an urge to laugh, I asked where I could get a ferry to the isle.
"Ain't no ferry to the isle, ya numpty." he said.
That wasn't what I wanted to hear.
"How do you suppose I can get there." I said.
"I suppose you take a plane. Airports just outside of town."
"How can I get there?" I replied.
"Well, I would use the noodle you got at the top of your shoulders and...."
"Save your breath. You'll need it to blow up your date." I cut him off and went to look for a taxi.
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With my nose stuffed into my shirt the whole trip, the train finally pulled into the Ardrossan station and I sought out the conductor and some fresh air. I found him by the baggage area. He was dressed up like a Pox doctor's clerk and he could probably open his mail with that nose! Holding back an urge to laugh, I asked where I could get a ferry to the isle.
"Ain't no ferry to the isle, ya numpty." he said.
That wasn't what I wanted to hear.
"How do you suppose I can get there." I said.
"I suppose you take a plane. Airports just outside of town."
"How can I get there?" I replied.
"Well, I would use the noodle you got at the top of your shoulders and...."
"Save your breath. You'll need it to blow up your date." I cut him off and went to look for a taxi.
(and now a word from our sponsor.)
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- Thread starter
- #146
Njaco
The Pop-Tart Whisperer
The taxi went in and out like a fiddlers elbow through the town and I almost did a video lunch a few times. I still had to shake hands with the unemployed and that ride didn't help. We pulled up to a grass field with a few planes and a falling-down nasty wooden shack full of dead flies with a sign across the front that read, "The South (something) Flying Club". The heat of the afternoon made it drier than an Arab's fart and the place smelled of it. I threw Richard Petty a couple of bucks and looked around. It didn't appear that the place was even functioning let alone an airport. There was debris and rusting pieces of metal all about with snippets of yellowed grass pushing through in places. I was just about to relieve myself when something shuffled through the door of the shack and into the sunshine.
He looked like Groucho Marx on vicodin and was covered in grease and oil stains. He had on a single coverall and nothing else, the hair on his shoulders looking like a jungle.
"Help ya?" he asked and then spit a wad of some brown-green mass onto the ground which missed and hit his foot. It disappeared in the growth of hair that reached to his toes.
"You charter flights?" I asked, stupidly.
"Yup." he said and then swallowed - what, I didn't want to know.
"I'm trying to get to Campbelltown. Can you take me?" I glanced around this train wreck of an airport, looking for something that reminded me of a plane.
"Yup." he replied and coughed, hacking up another brown-green mass, this time hitting his other foot.
"Umm, how much?" I asked now having to pee and possibly puke at the same time.
"50." he said and looked me over, his hand scratching for something around his rear area. I was afraid of more brown-green masses.
"OK, what do we go in?"
"Behind the house." he said and waved his hand behind him.
House? I could tell he probably couldn't pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel. But I wanted to put an end to this case, so I strolled around to the far side of the shack and was greeted by a large, silver plane that blinded me in the sun.
He looked like Groucho Marx on vicodin and was covered in grease and oil stains. He had on a single coverall and nothing else, the hair on his shoulders looking like a jungle.
"Help ya?" he asked and then spit a wad of some brown-green mass onto the ground which missed and hit his foot. It disappeared in the growth of hair that reached to his toes.
"You charter flights?" I asked, stupidly.
"Yup." he said and then swallowed - what, I didn't want to know.
"I'm trying to get to Campbelltown. Can you take me?" I glanced around this train wreck of an airport, looking for something that reminded me of a plane.
"Yup." he replied and coughed, hacking up another brown-green mass, this time hitting his other foot.
"Umm, how much?" I asked now having to pee and possibly puke at the same time.
"50." he said and looked me over, his hand scratching for something around his rear area. I was afraid of more brown-green masses.
"OK, what do we go in?"
"Behind the house." he said and waved his hand behind him.
House? I could tell he probably couldn't pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel. But I wanted to put an end to this case, so I strolled around to the far side of the shack and was greeted by a large, silver plane that blinded me in the sun.
Attachments
ccheese
Member In Perpetuity
Chris: I agree with Matt. If you're not stealing this stuff from some comic
book, you need to give up that dirty/stinking Animal Control stuff, buy a good
computer and put this stuff to print. After a couple of chapters, a publisher
should be kicking your door down. But, first you need an agent......
Here's my card !!
Charles
book, you need to give up that dirty/stinking Animal Control stuff, buy a good
computer and put this stuff to print. After a couple of chapters, a publisher
should be kicking your door down. But, first you need an agent......
Here's my card !!
Charles
Simply BRILLIANT!!..
Wildcat
Major
Funny stuff Njaco!!
A4K
Brigadier General
Can I have your autograph, Mr. Njaco ?!!! Love it, Chris!!!
wilbur1
Tech Sergeant
Keep it comin man this is excellant
- Thread starter
- #152
Njaco
The Pop-Tart Whisperer
DBII
Senior Master Sergeant
Another get edition...and...and...and he stayed within the lines as he colored the pictures.
DBII
DBII
Matt308
Glock Perfection
I liked that fact that there were no 50s cliche's.
A4K
Brigadier General
Just gets better and better, mate..!
Yeah, agree with you there mate...
Becca
Staff Sergeant
FTR..I'm SO glad I changed my dressing and took a pain pill BEFORE I read the new additions. TRULY!
ccheese
Member In Perpetuity
And now, ladies and germs, we have pictures. What's next for our hero,
a dose ?
Charles
a dose ?
Charles
Lucky13
Forum Mascot
A dose of what Mr C?
wilbur1
Tech Sergeant
Viagra
