Match Game Story: "A douche of emos' Wagonaire collided with a freep of morans' Hummer, ____ blood."

Ten words or more!

Or, as we like to way, at least a Sarah Palin of verbage.

Have fun!

"A douche of emos' Wagonaire collided with a freep of morans' Hummer, the emos were driven around by Midlo in her sirius radio Minivan (wagonaire) they were listening to William Shatners greatest hits ,TM was in control, she knew what she had to do to save the planet , they must rid us of the evil morans that included the Palin family of horrors, Trig, Track, Woody, Bark,and uncle Stump, on the road they passed by underpants, running in a marathon,they passed by a porch in Delaware where they heard the group Rush deafening the neighborhood, they past by Rabrrrrrr reading the book "My Pet Goatee, they turned west, went through New Jersey, waved at Lost "Hi Gorn", rounding Minnesota they saw jasonC and his new date, they turned North, they were on a mission, they finally arrived in Juneau, this was their time, at the house of the Governor of Alaska Midlo yelled, "I can see Virginia from here" determined, the fight started, and it was a knockout, TM slammed Trig, Midlo stuffed a salmon in the First Dud's mouth, just for the Halibut, they looked to their left, and saw Ann Coulter coming at them with a chainsaw, Midlo reacted immediately and hit her adams apple, and she was no more, the emos had won, and you know during all of this there was no____ blood."

Am I the only one that matched the Match game?

:grr: :grr: :hi:

I don't get it.

So much creativity in the Lounge, and they ignore my posts left and right.

which, of course, resulted in the exudation of dill pickles on Martin Heidegger's ineffable titanium underpants. Eventually, a three-hundred pound cheese-filled tesseract unraveled, shuddering and accumulating, until the glimmering sphincter of Yog-Sothoth's oppressively amusing mother-in-law winked into the blogosphere, never to be fondled again. But that didn't prevent the tumescent pool of primordial oleomargarine from dematerializing the minute Geraldine realized her navel had prolapsed and her favorite architeuthis was cheerfully writing its name on the Archimedes Palimpsest in blood."

:rofl:

:thumbsup:

:shrug: :hi:

Don't try to think about it too much; you'll get a headache...

The freeper in the passenger seat had just fixed his bayonet to his pre-ban AR-15, which then dutifully obeyed the laws of physics and flew through the hummer's windshield, then through the wagoneers windshield, finally coming to rest implanted in the heart of the emo in the left back seat but not before slashing the held-up wrists of the emo driver, granting him the gift that he had never had the courage to grant himself while listening to A Fire Inside in his warm, dry, and secure but somehow depressing middle class suburban bedroom.

Passenger emo, the one with the surprisingly big head, managed to launch through the windshield, waving his now bloodied hair out of his face to catch a glimpse of the AR-15 headed the other way, before slamming into the hummer's windshield, snapping his bitch-ass emo neck, and catching driver freeper's jaw with his forehead, snapping it down leaving freep's tongue to waggle just like his flaccid penis. Damp with blood, only his and not his 13 year old sister's.

The two freepers in the back whom had been previously enjoying a thrilling game of chess, a Queen's Gambit Declined up against a Joe the Plumber Castling, were both busy thanking God it hadn't been their turn to ride on the roof, as Billy Joe hurtled towards his stop sign bisection. After getting out, backseat freeper 1 observing the gore and listening to escaping steam and evacuating bowels, quipped "Hey, that was better than watching 'There will be blood'"