Thursday, September 01, 2005

 

ATTACK!!!

FLASH!!!

Dr. Laurie Woks, A.K.A. Dr. Wave, A.K.A. "Fishmonger" A.K.A. "Surf Monkey", ringleader/provocateur of the notorious west coast "Thrashers" ran into some trouble yesterday while blasting through the g-spot of a totally outragous tube or "cooking in the green room" as Dr. Wave might put, it if she were able to speak.

"I stuck my fist and forearm into a jellyfish the size of Shaquille O'Neill's codpiece last night and my arm just about exploded in pain."

While
some people think it might be funny to be attacked by giant jellyfish, and make puppet shows about it, most of us realize this is serious business. Get well soon Weeksie...

Comments:
I'm so FLATTERED to have my pain exposed to your Adoring Public that they might offer me succor! Besides "cooking in the green room" surfing enthusiasts or afficionados enjoy referring to it as "riding the green face of God", ignoring the unpleasant implications of that phrase, just as we have become adept at ignoring the grim truth of the statement, "I am almost killed every time I get in the water, truly I am the Crazy Pants, plus unattractive, with a gangrenous foot from the stingray and a wizened claw or Hand That Successfully Fisted the Great Purple-Striped Jelly." Booyah to you, Corny.
 
As Silvia Plath was known to mutter to herself over and over, "Mistakes are lessons of wisdom" and I'm thinking it would be wise to stop, no matter how deperate you've become living in a city of crank addicts, or whatever transmutations of consciousness you expeirenced steping on the toxic sting-ray, to stop fisting every sea creacher that passes your way.

"Riding the green face of God",HAHAHAHaha goddess bless ye Coors Lite Twins... bloody hell, I'm speechless. I've been blinking out this messege to my secritary who is by the way, a terrible speller and I'm going to fire her tomorrow!!!
Count on it.
 
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A speedy recovery Ms. Weeks,
Hearts, rainbows, smiles forever,
-Ping and Pong's Puppet Workshop
 
Thanks so much, Ping and Pong! Right back atcha with the hearts, rainbows, smiles. And a sprinkle o' Baby Pandas!

And yer right, Corny. My interest in fisting began with the autobiographical masterpiece "Your Fist Inside Me: My Life with Sherri Lewis" by Lambchop, but clearly I was overidentifying, as usual, and methinks perhaps it's time to drag my rotting carcass back to what we in San Diego call The Safe Coast, or, as it's called in your world, "New York City". For only you can heal me now.
Love
wox
 
Weeks- How's that wizened claw making out? When'll you be in town?
 
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