Article: 261464 of talk.bizarre
From: (Crisper Than Thou)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Goof off on company time
Date: 1 Dec 1995 18:43:47 -0800
Organization: The Crisper Mind
Lines: 64
Message-ID: <49oeh3$>
Keywords: happy kid of casualty!
Status: O

Yak of acid lust

	They were big, hairy, alien, and direly in need of a new genetic
	host. It was most unfortunate that they found our chintzy little
	planet. Even fouler was the fact that the implantation procedure
	produced a blaze of fast-acting oxidizers. Now we hobble around,
	lacking fingers, facial features, body hair, chunks of skin-- in
	dire fear of our buffalo incubi who might fall from the sky with
	no warning, mounting us at their leisure.

Aid a cult of sky

	They were the windbringers, the storm-makers, the children of an
	angry cloud demon. They would come to the village sometimes, and
	demand whatever they felt like-- a sacrifice, money, food, maybe
	some sex. Then they'd make our crops grow. The locust would flee
	and the rivers would run cool and deep. But something is changed
	now and they are weakening. Now we have the chance. Soon we will
	bring them down and steal their secrets. Then we will bring rain
	and go to other places, taking whatever we wish.

Days I fuck a lot

	Ten twenty fifty more. Like a machine, I am. Extrude and fill. I
	could slow down and smell the roses, but tender takes forever 'n
	romance is for those with fewer obligations.

Duos: A fly, a tick

	Fly:	Look! Dog! Yummy!

	Tick:	Agreemsg. Blood! Fresh! Mmmm!

	Fly:	Blood? Wrong!

	Tick:	Huh?

	Fly:	Shit! Edible. Rich. Better.

	Tick:	Shit? Ug. Gross.

	Fly:	Maybe. So?

	Tick:	Nothing.

	Fly:	Bye!

	Tick:	Whatever.

Sac-to-Yak Fluid

	Just microwave and pour!

Flay a Kid Scout

	"Hello, sir, I'm with Troop Two Forty-Four and we're selling
	tickets to our annual Jamboree and OH GOD NO NO PLEASE DON'T

	--Death Lender
	(anagrammatically crisper)