tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44121943939424716602024-02-08T12:10:25.606-08:00one line at a time story timethis is a little diddy from back in the day.
my friend, will and i used to sit in science, english, or whatever class we had together and pass a sheet of notebook paper back and forth, writing one line at a time to create short tales of syphilitic apes, papal baseball bats, mustard green flavored mustard, and the like.
thanks to the interwebs, we can do this without breaking in to our old high school...and with more friends.tolentinoedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13784815242131443629noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4412194393942471660.post-55929924801736381732008-02-16T10:18:00.000-08:002008-10-02T17:29:22.100-07:00g-chat one line at a time. (fin)at: harvey lesterson was<br />wy: your mother's<br />at: worst<br />wy: postmaster general<br />at: . Frankly, I hate your<br />wy: bean and cheese<br />at: harpsichord, but I enjoy<br />wy: frolicing with<br />at: retard<br />wy: plutonian scientific<br />at: notations.<br /><br /><end><br /><br /><object height="58" width="309"><param name="movie" value="http://embed.grandcentral.com/flash/GC_EmbedPlayer.swf?e=f2c92fb7515098a01c6b3&m=22a3ff565c5d0cf094860026a996ba16"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://embed.grandcentral.com/flash/GC_EmbedPlayer.swf?e=f2c92fb7515098a01c6b3&m=22a3ff565c5d0cf094860026a996ba16" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="58" width="309"></embed></object></end>tolentinoedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13784815242131443629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4412194393942471660.post-33203093502450838342008-02-08T22:14:00.000-08:002008-10-02T17:29:44.010-07:00untitled (fin)<span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> Personally, I am opposed to<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp:</span> middle-aged men wearing chaps. They make me<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> slightly horny, but<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span> I refrain from asking for their phone numbers. Instead<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> I typically assault them with carpet swatches,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp:</span> legos, kool aid packets, whiffle ball bats,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> and most importantly, African Swallows. Beanie Weinies<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span> is a Kosher form of Beanie Weenies.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> Crack-head mongoloids smell like<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span> teriyaki malt liquor. They mix their crack with<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> their daily dose of heavily medicated applesauce,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp:</span> and because applesauce is too grainy to shoot up, they<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> save up enough throughout the week to fill a bathtub. The process is called<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span> "Mottsynthesis." They know the sauce is good when<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> babies<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>steep<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> wildly<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>from<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> rapturous<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp:</span> dick<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> inhalation. Cumquats<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>never<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span>cease<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span> finding<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> sources<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>of<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span>nicotine<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>dicks.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span>Every<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span> time<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span>you<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span> think<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span> "DICK,"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>an angel<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span> gets<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>a woody.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span> Pain-free<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span> hair removal<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span> is<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span> not<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span> flattering<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>on<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span> reptiles,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span> andrew's mom,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span> Lisa's back,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span> or Andrew's<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span> liver.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>Finger smellers<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span> frequently<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>eat<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span> gloves<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>dipped in<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span> fart-flavored<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span> icecream.<br /><br /><end><br /><br /><object height="58" width="309"><param name="movie" value="http://embed.grandcentral.com/flash/GC_EmbedPlayer.swf?e=6ea7b3a00d7fc2705ba56&m=976565102c0cbed6400a357f379384f2"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://embed.grandcentral.com/flash/GC_EmbedPlayer.swf?e=6ea7b3a00d7fc2705ba56&m=976565102c0cbed6400a357f379384f2" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="58" width="309"></embed></object>tolentinoedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13784815242131443629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4412194393942471660.post-806332949672985712008-01-30T20:59:00.000-08:002008-10-02T17:31:43.953-07:00untitled (fin)<span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> Horace Appleseed was a man with<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp:</span> a deep affinity for fine wine, foreign movies, and belting out selections from the "Newsies" soundtrack at inappropriate times. Horace Appleseed was a man with no self-awareness, you see. When he was just six<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> Horace went on an African safari dressed like a Zebra. At age 8, he<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>humped a Zebra while dressed like an African Swami. At 10,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> he left Africa and went to Sweden to study Yoruba culture. Horace was an idiot. But he had a passion for culture and he wasn't about to let his poorly functioning brain get in the way...until he met Harriet Flabbenstein. Standing a mere 4'3", Harriet<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp:</span> was the world's most shrunken shrink. Employed by Horace's mother, Harriet and her associate Dr. Yuri VonKjdfjasiodfojrfnodsfnudapfelstreusel, the world's third leading analyst/therapist-- analrapist, if you will-- undertook a 5 year long psycho-analraping session with young Horace. During this time, they<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> surprisingly fell in love. Very rarely does a man enter an analrapy session and come out in love, but Horace was different. Previously he had devoted little time to self anal. He was too busy trying to soak up culture to anlarap himself at night. but when Harriet came along she gave him all the analrapy he could handle. She expanded Harold's <span style="font-style: italic;">colon</span>ized brain, and showed him tenderness that he had never known. As for why Harriet fell in love with Horace, that's a little trickier. You see, she had recently<br /><strong>lp</strong>: been cured of a lifelong penis phobia that began when<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span>she watched <span style="font-style: italic;">Boogie Nights</span>.<br /><br /><end></end>tolentinoedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13784815242131443629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4412194393942471660.post-29617843701110199492008-01-19T21:38:00.000-08:002008-02-08T13:04:06.496-08:00heroines on heroin.<span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> Did you know that Wonderwoman was a smackhead? I knew that she had dabbled in other debaucheries such as<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">wy:</span> Quiet games of chess with the elderly and teaching "Napalm and Your Genitals 101" down at the local<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> bean-bag plant, but she never struck me as a drug user. She did, however, strike me in the face. Like a freight train with an arm strength similar to Tom Brady, she once threw a bag oftolentinoedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13784815242131443629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4412194393942471660.post-15734118125406469602008-01-19T21:36:00.000-08:002008-02-08T13:04:23.052-08:00hotdogs and applesauce.<span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span>Culinary students from across the world gathered in Mexico today to discuss<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">wy:</span> the growing need to export giant, edible ant-larvae found while harvesting rubies in the darkest<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at: </span>of men. "Multi-tasking is the future of cooking!" shouted a Canadian who had recently been published for her findings on maple syrup's ability to shear lambswool. A Cajun-born of colleague raised his claw and added, "tolentinoedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13784815242131443629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4412194393942471660.post-5958587838078364402008-01-19T01:18:00.000-08:002008-10-03T14:27:25.814-07:00lessons from the couch. (fin)j. hendrix, z. cadwalader, a. tolentino<br />dallas, tx (same apartment, same couch)<br />VULGARITY LEVEL: 0/10<br />DRUNKOMETER: (Varies) 6/10 - 11/10<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> 9 out of 10 weather forecasters predicted<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> the rapture. And they were right. THE END.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">zc:</span> but we are left on this planet because of all those God forsaken Jesus jokes<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> . Although I'm not a fan of apology, I'm writing this letter to God as a plea to join a "winning team."<br /> Dear God,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> I can't do this. So long and thanks for all the cancer.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">zc:</span> and by "i can't do this. so long and thanks for all the cancer.", i mean jon is a dick.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> And by "jon is a dick," i mean WWJD. By "WWJD," I mean, "What (Would I do) Without Jon's (sarcastic) Derision.?" Frankly, I don't know the answer to this question. Thankfully, though, on a count of the multiple personality disorder, I am okay with whatever I purchase.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> (this was tricky...PLEASE DELETE THIS!)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">zc:</span> (BUT NOT THIS)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> .tolentinoedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13784815242131443629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4412194393942471660.post-33528243503422028782008-01-18T23:55:00.000-08:002008-10-03T14:27:55.501-07:00Untitled (fin)j. hendrix and a. tolentino<br />dallas, tx (same apartment, same couch)<br />VULGARITY LEVEL: 9/10<br />DRUNKOMETER: (Varies) 3/10 - 6/10<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> The sound congregated some distance away from where we stood<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> .<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> K<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> eruplunk. Kerplunk. Kerplunk. Robins, pidgeons, and doves dropped like cats and dogs from the sky into the ocean.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh: </span>For some reason I did not first seek an explanation for this migratory anomaly; as far as i know, robins, pidgeons, and doves are not sea-faring birds. My first thought, though not scientific was certainly poignant. I thought<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> about how I should incorporate foul words with fowl (birds). Engaged in a game of obscene birdy wordplay, I threw out such names as the COCKatu,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> roBENDER,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> kingFISTER,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> peliCUNT,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> flamminGUS<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> pidJOHNSON<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> phoeniXXX<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh: </span>peaCOCK<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> CUMmingbird<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> COCK (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rooster)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> , and the bald KEGEL. (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kegel_exercise)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> Some time then elapsed, and i thought<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> SWALLOW!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> "God damn this multiple personality disorder!" I said to myselves. "I wish I could just<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> I'm so tired of hearing about his wishes<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> . What's that mate? His dishes?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp:</span> Penisguin. Count it.tolentinoedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13784815242131443629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4412194393942471660.post-4169166567025546992008-01-18T23:06:00.000-08:002008-02-08T13:07:43.439-08:00benny the barber.j. hendrix and a. tolentino<br />dallas, tx (same apartment, same couch)<br />VULGARITY LEVEL: 1/10<br />DRUNKOMETER: 2/10<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> benny the barber was opposed to<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh:</span> those sensations of sheer apathy that arise after an exquisitely crafted chili-bowl<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> but generally, like any whiskey drinking, cigarette smokin' man, he was pleased to do his job.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">jh: </span>Despite the intimidating, martial echo of his brown leather cowboy boots ("shit-kickers", as one with a different narrative voice might describe them) resounding like a<br />at: flatulent asthmatic banshee,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jh:</span> patrons of Nutty Jack Cutty's Custom Crown Haircuts found themselves more than merely comforted by benny's suprisingly smooth and warm hands on their heads, in fact they were even<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> inspired to rekindle the flame with ex-girlfriends, childhood friends, Jesus and other lost causes with his gentle touch.tolentinoedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13784815242131443629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4412194393942471660.post-82070759301470737432008-01-17T18:25:00.000-08:002008-02-08T13:08:16.481-08:00larry the gnome.l. parker, a. tolentino<br />dallas, tx / denton, tx (living room / )<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> larry the gnome was<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp:</span> celebrating his allergies by taking a pleasant stroll through the forest on a Red Level Pollen Alert day. Suddenly,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> a Claritin fairy appeared, but was immediately eaten by a bear. Larry could barely breathe. His nasal passage was as clogged as<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp:</span> Marlon Brando's aorta. But Larry was a proud gnome and he knew he hadn't lived 683 years to be taken out by some measly microspore. Pumping his gnarled fists at the sky, Larry dared God, shouting<br /><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">at:</span> through his congestion, "YOU CAND'T STANDD IN MBY WAY ANDY LONGER! I'MB GOING DTO END ITD ALL!" Though God had given Larry a handicap, (s)he made the mistake of trusting him with a red button that read, "Push Here to End it All." Trembling with fear and rage, Larry reached inside his breast-pocket for the kill-switch...but it wasn't there.</div><div></div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">lp: </span>As Larry desperately rummaged through his neon NKOTB fanny pack, Stellone the Jewish Hobgoblin emerged from behind some nearby shrubbery. "Shalom!" said Stellone to the Gnome.<br /><br /></div><div></div>tolentinoedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13784815242131443629noreply@blogger.com0