PRIMO, Like

From the cover of their latest picture disc straight into your hearts.
Marco and Tatiana ! Only on Quattro Canali, this Thursday at
about 8ish.
It'll be watchable.

It's All a Big Laugh Until Somebody Cries

Oh yes, Oh GREAT fun. Driving and laughing, full of beans.
Yule h'tide cheer and everything going past so fast.
O-drink sucked like there'll be no tomorrow.
There'll be no tomorrow.
Not for you two young and wrestling types.
Not watching the road, not watching the sky, just laughing
and looking so enthralled into each others peep holes.
Not seeing the tree.
The big one, under which they first fell so deeply.
Such ends their love, as it began. Drinking O-drink under the
hulking oak. Only when they met, there had been an explosion
of life and colour all about. Now in their final moment the
vehicular explosion was shorter lived.
As were there lives.
Damn you O-drink. Damn your ....
FLAVOUR EXPLOSION ! Now in Handy 'O-POCKETS'
"G-G-G-Grab a dab of O"
Get it up your FACE !

-the previous entry was sponsored by O ! Grab it.

CANS

picture a man covered in cans.
He wears them in order to tickle his fans.
- tickle their fancy, you understand, in an emotional
way, not physically and giggly no, not today -
His fans are people who have a fetish for cans.
They love to see people with cans in their hands.
They didn't expect him to be COVERED in cans,
but that's not all, that's just the start of his plans:
He wants to blow their minds, freak them out, excite!
every single one, with no exception, and he might
just be able to pull it off
He's rigged up a spring, one under each tin,
and pulled a wee string and tethered it to his shoe.
So when they are all excited and seem like they could
take no more.
He gives them more.
Upon the floor, he starts to tap.
just slightly at first and then, in a burst, he's jumping
around like a mental clown ....
Every string pulls every spring and every can jiggles
and tin-tans and the fans just can't handle this ....
Each and every one. stunned. Can barely breath with
the extreme excitement and awe.
Each and every one.
too .... much .... fun .....
"Can fans found catatonic in disused warehouse."
reads the newspaper article.
Dan the can man has struck again. Again.

Cartoon Elephant or DRUGS RING ?

Tuesday, November 14th 2008. After following a lead from one
of our snitches we burst down the door or Apt. 217, 5546 Venue
avenue.
One of the suspects, dressed as Cheetara the thundercat tried to
bash Henderson on the skull with a rubber trunk, luckily I caught
him mid swing and managed to get off a shot. Unfortunately his
head exploded. Damn this triple barrel special.
So here, pictured, is what we stormed in on.
The surviving suspects lead us to believe that it was a 'huffing
station' whereby the volunteer monkey walks and tokes ...
supposedly this creates euphoria in the subject, which then creates
an even MORE potent chemical in the expelled air. This chemical
is contained and then bottled for black market resale.
I was not so convinced. This explanation seemed all too easy.
My sources have since confirmed my fears ..... this was in fact an
Elephant motion capture station. They hire monkeys to make like
elephants, at a fraction of the cost and a maximum resale value.
Elephants are going out of business and monkey kind are being
exploited.
The most heinous new development is that they are doing
BOTH at once.
Capturing the motion of monkey pretending to be an elephant
AND harvesting the expelled de-oxygenated drug.

Be vigilant my fellow citizens.

A Plan Afoot

Genine was almost a foot taller than Karen, and thus was alpha girl.
This, however, didn't stop Karen coveting Genie's dollop, Tomm
Moore, in place of her own (named 'dollop', but that's kids for you).
Essentially slaves, dollops are normal fellas like you and me, just
unlucky enough to have been caught sleeping in the woods.
They get trawled by upper class 'gangs' on Sunday mornings.
Feckin' ponces.
Once scraped down and washed they are constricted into what
they call 'dollsuits' ... so what they end up as is a living doll.
Only able to move their heads and cry for help, but nobody is
listening.
This has been going on for years, generations of girls growing
up with such cruelly imagined playthings ... until somehow last
Friday, when Tomm managed to grab a razor blade with his
mouth and stash it in his romper.
For three days now, Tomm has been slowly scraping inside his
suit .... and now, now starts the plan.
While she was sleeping, afternoon nap like, Dollop whispered in
Karen's ear over and over that it was time, that the revolution was
now. Karen, waking up, just thought she was having a mad dream,
but still, her feckles were up, and she just kept picking at Genine.
The time was now, the escape was entering part one .. freedom
on it's way ....

why do they make it so hard, it's frustrating

When the devil knight runs at you with his magic sword of cat-nails
you have to sidestep, medium attack three times, jump and then
heavy attack. Then, you use you're anti-cat defence whip four times,
THEN you jump again, light attack, jump and then the knight goes
into phase one of 17 changes .....
Queen Tugg just didn't have the 'skillz'.
"I mean, what the FECK is that ? Why do they make it so hard that
you can't even beat him. This is stupid."
I don't think the lacy gloves really helped.
It turns out that that's why he was such an Iron fisted ruler, that
and being named queen instead of king.
such is life my queen, such is life.

love that Halloween

Yep.
Spanger and Thomas.



















They Love Halloween and so do I.

she just didn't fit in

Prussia, 1887.
She had hopes of having a child like like herself.
When he was born her heart at once felt the bittersweet
dichotomy of maternal joy and genetic repulsion.
For it was clear that her boy, this little hard shelled wonder would
take after her husband.
They were told that his shell would recede in time and that he would
probably be more of a hybrid, since his father was a pure breed,
surely HE, being only a semi-crust would eventually become more
like her.
She secretly wished.
NO.
Was he doing it deliberately, she wondered. Of course not ...
but he was, against all medical suggestiboles, even MORE Lobstarian
than his father.
Even in sepia photography his colours would come through.
He seemed more confident than all the other boys in school.
His difference made him special. Like his exoskeleton protected him
from their harsh words. As the years wore on, the men of the family
grew closer, and she more remote.
Buschinka was not so resilient as her son Clicky-Hans.
Her heart grew dry and sad.
Now, Her hopes lay in this new child. For she was four months
pregnant.
Maybe this time she would have a girl, maybe this time it would be
born with a dolphins tail and hoofs, like her mother and not hideous
like her boys.
Her beloved boys.

Born of a world torn asunder

Post war. The first family to have the gift of a child.
As a result of all the war years working in a bomb factory,
Fanny Hamchild's uterian business was mangled.
Only the handy tinkerings of her husband, Metalorion
(who was in fact Hubert Metal, the anchient god of metalwork)
- it was only his handy tinkerings that restored her insides to a
usable state.
So there it was, not 9 but 14 months after conception (allowing for
smelting and setting of the support strutts) that our little friend
was born.
Panface.
Panface Hamchild was his name, taking his mothers name to ensure
the anonymity of Hubert.
Panface might one day amount to something, only time would tell.

if you are #1003 you'll get a nice prize,

... if ye want it.

charley CARED for the community idiot.

Little Charley, he did so many things for the small town of Mong.
From playing with the over chromasomed children, to feeding
the over chromosomed adolescents all the way up to laughing at
the people of Spas farm.
He was like a traveling smar-e-t'n or something. Once his work
was done, his good deeds deedled, off again he was, down t'road.

ER, HANG ON, I'LL BE BACK

IN A MINUTE

A STICKUP IN LADDER LAND !

The Amazing Pickuppity Brothers.

This is Miklophe and Milton Pichuppty.
Mike likes hugs, but only from trusted brother, and lifter, Milton.
Mike is the brains of the duo, the choreographer, the showmanship
behind each and every masterful lift.
Milton, on the other hand, is somewhat challenged in the art of thinking.
Always getting into confusing situations simply because he doesn't get
how the world works. The only time he appears to be in control is when
his big brother Mike is in his grasp, held up, high above his head. That's
when he's happy, when he thinks he's doing a good job and making his
brother proud.
Every lift achieved, every tap dance while holding Mike in the air
'makes momma proud'.
Milton doesn't have a long life expectancy though. Unknown to most, but
perhaps to the more astute of you, exposed by his bent and ruddy hand
there on his hip, the sure sign of 'mangle hand' syndrome, a terrible and
ultimately incurable predicament. Lifting is all that makes him happy, it's
the only thing the ruddy and otherwise decorative 'gland' is good for.
'Lifting is like Buddha's song'.
That's what simple Milton says.
Mike takes great care of his small, fading twin.
... and so they lift, for momma and for the sake of brotherly love, for one
day it will be the soft thought that lays Milty to his rest.
Sleep tight children, and take care of one another.

Nervous about his review.

Flash just hadn't been hitting his quotas. Some days he'd be late
and everyone else was already hard at it, standing in the cold
cold sunless day.
He had been slacking off a bit, not sitting on the required number
of eggs. Not making whatever noises penguins make and going
'baaaaaawk' instead. He just didn't have his heart in it anymore.

They frolicked, but she already had a boyfriend

It's what's in me head, like.

Fuppin Bean Farmer

Like his Daddy before him, and HIS Daddy before that Daddy ...
all the way back to, well, to his Grandaddy.
All were big bean farmers, and PROUD of it. Look at him there
chewin' his thing there.
It's like his Mammy always said ...
"Once there's a barrow of beans at yer feet, there's nowt can knock ye"
That's not really true though is it, but they're simple folk are the
beanfarmers. Simple, and they smell like tomato sauce.
Yes, life was good.

Juggy. He was Friends with the fishes.

Unwanted little attention

Robert Dullgoody (pictured below) was the unwilling recipient of little attention.

Dr. Robert Dullgoody was attacked early yesterday and 'smothered
with care' when he was accidently sprayed with 'little pheromones'
in his laboratory in Colby (outside Kendelburrow).
The little man lab was set up in 1987 to try to find a way to extract
the little fellas' abundant 'happy' and mass market it to the depressed.
Dr Dullgoody was 'Frantically close' to a massive breakthrough when,
out of carelessness, he dropped a test tube of 'happy752' on his desk,
spraying himself with the stuff.
"It was just careless", said Dr Dull, going on to comment
"This project, regardles of any small accident is still very close to
completion, people should be able to enjoy Fellamones (tm) in time
for Christmas. Then I can concentrate on my next big thing.
Littleladylotion."
When asked what they thought of the recent little activity the
depressed seemed fairly downbeat, one replied
"I'm not bothered, whatever."
'Little' is known of the finer details of Dr. Dullgoody's next project,
but he better wash his butter fingers before he starts ...

A nice walk in the maze?

Jibb was always fond of a nice walk, and walking in the maze is
the best of all little walks.
Now, with his girlfriend Nancy, it seemed like the most perfect
night ever.
Well, that was until ....

They Kneed Our Little Friends

Never trust bakers and pizza men.
You can't be sure what they're using for their bases.
They're basta'ds

Bozzle Batters Birds

Yea, Bozzle would always come runnin up the back garden, with
her fathers hat on. Swingin all over the gaff
'Butt a Duck ! Butt a Duck !'
- that's what She'd shout, not us.

... but she burns easily

She loves frolicking in the sand.
Young Guppy here so loves the sand between
her foot digits.
She won't let the sun stop her fun.
Sand rash and sun burn, the good with the bad.

Lost Again

Yes. Once again, Stephen goes running off into the maze
and gets lost.

idiot child on a pony

Spakie's father thought he was nervous about being
on a pony for the first time.
That wasn't the problem.
Spak was worried about the whisper he heard
from 'fillie' as he walked past to mount up, saying
that he would throw him and then trample his
'stupid fat head.'

THEY EAT MEN

College Students.
The terrorizers of tiny men everywhere.

Every college in every town or city in the WORLD.
Yes.
No country stands alone in it's innocence.
Our field researcher has found evidence of this
behaviour as early as 1967 in the dormitories at A.D.U.
(Abu Dhabi University)
The first few weeks of every new year, from
September 'til the Tuesday before Halloween, all new
students gather together to have what they call
'fella eating contests'.
If this isn't horrific enough, we are beginning to have
reports from local households near Universities
that little men have gone missing as early as June,
suggesting that these events are more solidly organised
and that SOMEONE is holding these men against their
will' for months on end, fattening and basting
them in time for these 'ritual tastings'.
..... more details at 11.

tiny men abuse poor Lions

In Ireland we call them 'gurriers'.
You pronounce it guhr-e-ur-s.
It means little feckers, but our parents don't
swear so they had to come up with that.
It's from 'Gour', the old gaelic for 'trouble',
and the Breton word 'heures', meaning fucker or
whore-child. So we devise our word Gurriers
-'little fuckers'.
Here we see some gurriers abusing an old lion
in Dublin zoo.
Isn't it only just shockin.

ginger sphere

I was out in the park there yesterday.
I saw this.
His name is Damien. He's 'a ginger'.
Ginger's are traditionally afraid of the sun,
but are not really nocturnal or anything.
They just think it's the debil or something.
Ginger's are also 'more smarter' than normal
people.
I'm only saying that so that I don't get attacked
by any of them. They aren't really.
Just be careful out there.

Bean of Bees

Yes. As you can see in this photo, the legendary 'bean of bees'.
As I've said previously though, now that the team have been
trained to be beards, they'll never again be able to be beaned.

Beardy Bees.

You've heard of the beard of bees. The bath of beans. Even the bath of
bees, but for my next big feat I 'WAS' working on a beard of beans ...
But the bees just kept jumping on the bandwagon, which just made it
look like another beard of bees, and NOT - which it was- a beard of
Beesy beans
... it turns out that once you've trained bees to 'be' the beard, that's
all they want to do.
The bath of bees only worked because I sunk down into it so that my
beard level was below bath level, so basically that was a massive big
beard of bees in a bath.
I still have nightmares about the bath of beards ....
Anyway, so having failed those, and having it pointed out to me that
a 'Bees of beards' doesn't work because that's just a sculpture of some
bees made from beards .... I'm left with only one option ....
Beardy Bees.
You have to get the tinyest 7 blade gillette mini razor
and delicately shave each bee ... within weeks they are all sporting
stubble of great potential .... guiness 'pamphlet of moderately
interesting feats', here I come.

bully hole

GIANTS ATTACK ALBINO !

Poor little Blondie didn't see it coming. Didn't see THEM coming.
Which wasn't surprising. The little albino lad, with his tiny pink
eyes .... terribly difficult to see two feet in front of him.
Four feet in front of him as it turned out.
He probably shouldn't have been out in the field running
around in the first place.

Loan for a new goldfish ?

Goldfish ?
NO
We do not give loans for goldfish, young man.
Poor little Milton was So hoping to get a new fush.
Thankfully, though, one followed him home from
the bank later that day.

oh sure, he wrote a lot ....

.... but he was the scribe of lies ....
All the children in the town thought he was both weird and clever
in simultaneity.
They would tease him for being so shy, but at the same time
asking him to read them more 'stories from beyond the hills'.
He was filling their heads' with lie after lie, preparing them for his
revenge.
and as we all know ....
Revenge is a dish best served ... several years later when probably
the only person who remembers what the revenge is for is the
forgotten child .... now grown to a gnarled husk of a man, seeking
payback for nothing more than a few pickings on.
None the less, Plackard Forgrowler would have this sad petty
revenge.
Oh yes.

still working even in the early hours

The D.A. thought Trouble was getting too old for this.
Well fiddlesticks to the damn D.A.
Yea. Even when Detective Proodle from downtown
came by with a hot coffee, He wouldn't stop.
Once divining started Trouble was like a man possesed.
He had never lost one yet, and Dogsby wasn't the worst
of them.
It would just take time. It would just take .... time.

Divining for Dogsby

'Trouble' Pratchet was used to divining. He even had his own rods.
He'd done it twelve times before.
This time would be different. This time he was looking for a killer.
This time he would be divining for Dogsby, notorious for hiding in
cat piles.
It would be a long day.

wishless

Even now, years later, She took his birthday wishes.
Only He didn't notice anymore. He had forgotten such
childish things.
With the onset of his puberish growth, He was preoccupied
with his unruly voice and ridiculous hair ....
..... and so, the cirtle was complete.
Yes, the cirtle.
It's like a circle, but concerning stories of retribution.
Her wish, each and every year of stolen wishes, was to
have a man by her side, one she could love and who sounded
a bit like Trevor, her childhood sweetheart.
That's what she was getting, only it was in the shape of her
very own son.
He, cursed to be adolescent for all time,
and she, to have no other man beside her (as her son was so silly to behold.)

the reachers

Much like you're horse or camel, a recent upsurgence in
'Backhangers' has been reported in the suburbs of Paris.

The term 'backhanger' is a misleading one, as it refers to the carrier,
not the carried.
Pictured above, the taller individuals are treated no better than
working animals, carrying and shopping for slumlords and
cheese barons.
While the 'backmasters' play, laugh and scheme amongst themselves.
A full report at eleven ....

the stolen wish.

It wasn't HER birthday at all, but with his weak young mind he couldn't stop her just wishing his wish.
She had done this before and would do it again.
Oh how she wished, that taker of wishes.
Leaving child after child, sitting wishless.
Her uppance would eventually come.
In true form, too, from a fitting place.
One of her wishes would backfire. Of course it would.
There's no escaping from the hell of your own making.

exploring Zeteos' limits.

Step 1:
Meeting Room 7:
The initial discussion on what to do with the technology.
It just takes far too long, Flaria just won't take things seriously, making chairlady Charlotte loose her rag a bit, you can see it there.

Step 2:
Scientific deconstruction.
Karen was the sciencer, but the 'executive sciencer', Goggles, was just far too 'gloves on' and annoying. This just left Karen annoyed and demotivated.
Again, progress was slow.

Step 3:
FINAL RESULTS !
"We don't know what they're for, but once we cross breed them with pineapples, they're nicer than a rotten orange, and you can't argue with that."
- Marble Tubor a.s.d. (Executive statement reader for 'The Limits' project and professional model).

mean little BRAT

"Pip pip tally ho what what".
Go ON away with ye, and FECK OFF, ye. little. shite.
Just because 'daddy' is in the feckin r.a.f. doesn't mean you can tinker with the little lads from the garden and 'try the chaps ouyt' in yer fiendish contraptions.
YOU LiTTLE PONCE.

never say 'neat'

People who've been around for a while don't like people who say
'So I'm new here, it's fun so far'.
Samson was new, and he was 'cruising' for one of those 'bruising's that there have been so much talk about lately.
plural.
Tim wasn't so new, and he DIDN'T like turtles, he was just baiting Samson into commenting on that hue toob video.
There WiLL be trouble. As soon as they get off work, there WiLL be trouble.

scuffle of mythical proportions

Kevos was just minding his own beans wax in the park, just walking Cathros. When next thing he knows they're set upon by Donald of Hades with his two headed Duckhornodon. Ruckus was achieved almost immediately.

puppy ho !

Jeremy and Terry go into battle. Terry laughing to hide his fear, but the Mighty Jeremy was always ready to brawl ....

last, but getting the most attention

He wasn't fast. He never came first, but at least he did it nude. That has to count for something. Does it ? Doesn't it ? Does it ?

In other, and lighter News ....

The Fargleston Flingers won first prize in the Fargleston all county 'fella flinging' competition that took place this past Saturday!
Charley (37), their befreckled handler, said that she was 'Over the moon' with the result and that 'The boys have worked very hard learning their routine and it's paid off.'
The lads themselves commented that they would be glad to share their winnings with the three 'torch juggling' victims from our earlier report. Isn't that nice.
Mmm.
Nice.

highlander torch-ers gang !

Late yesterday evening a man was arrested on charges of torching and 'playing with' some small time mischiefists.
"He was dressed like a girl" said one aye witness.
The small men later admitted that they had been wiping eggs on the man's garage door 'As a jape, like' when they were captured and set upon by the large 'Crustie'.

tortured by giant old man !

Is it ? Is that what's going on ? Well, That's what 'big Tomm' was arrested for, torturing little men.
Actually, he was just giving the little man a little tattoo of a dancing hoolie dancer.
It still hurt though.

them days

Kevin and Jasper, although clueless in the ways of modern machinery, were always trying to help.
Kevin always offered a flat head screwdriver, for it was his chosen helping device. He didn't know what it was for and always called it 'the twisty handle thing'. It helped about once in every fourteen instances.
Jasper never offered help. He would wait, patiently, until asked.

leaf licker

He liked to lick leaves on warm summers eve's.
He might seem simple, but
If you look, squint, at his eyes
you'll see, a sadness there lies
because inside of his head
He lived in suspish of an imagined leaf theif
who would ruin his fun and stamp
and then run and then ....
There was no such man.

Peter meets Carl's Father

Peter was in awe when Carl's father asked him if he'd like a tour of the baguette refinery.
"Call me Barry", followed by a wink.
Peter's insides fluttered like a herd of stampeding butterflies.
He almost dropped his lunch.
It wouldn't have mattered anyway as Barry would have furnished him with a fresh and warm replacement.
So in that respect Peter had a good day that day.