Creamed Corn #22

A startling new discovery coming out of Smalltown, Missouri has rocked the fashion industry from LA to London, and Paris to Beijing. The new sensation of Creamed Corn Face Masks has turned the facial make up world on its head!

Billy Bob Willyson, a farmer by trade, was given credit for the amazing discovery. “Well I went down thur to that thur corn fields, and grabbed a few of ‘dem dur ears to give to the ma so she would stop her complainin’, den I mashed ‘em up and went to that thur bar and put dem on da cows faces, cause of ‘em gots real bad acme, and I was tryin’ to stop dat dur pimples from bleedin, and I cames back the next mornin’ to find dat it was pimples free. So I told the misses dats we better starts a sellin’ it ‘for one of dem fancy in-dus-tryious types comes a callin.”

Research done in the laboratories at Los Alamos Nuclear facilities found that creamed corn is 99% similar to it’s counter part cosmetic partners, which run at nearly 15 times the price.

More research will be done, but for now, Billy Bob Willyson seems to be sitting on a gold mine, seeing as he holds the paten for creamed corn face masks.

Jimmy's adventure - #7

Blog #7 – Scene

As it sat atop the counter, Jimmy Johonsonomen’s curiosity could no longer be fended off. The bottle of pills had his attention, and nothing was going to stop him from getting the goods that where held inside that little child-proof safe.

If only he could get up on top of the counter, all his problems would be solved. The key to his nirvana would be unleashed as soon as he put his hands on that bottle. With it’s luscious, curvy, orange plastic body staring down at him, Jimmy sank smaller and smaller.

“One plastic bottle sitting up on top of a counter, it might as well have been on top of Mt. Everest” thought Jimmy to himself. You see to a normal adult male, a counter top was nothing special; it was no daunting task to reach up and grab it. However, Jimmy is not a normal adult male. Jimmy suffers from countertopitis, which, more specifically, is the fear of germ infestation. Further more, Jimmy’s particular case of this disease restricts him from touching anything that might so much as give him the common cold, i.e. a counter top.

Having lived religiously over the last two years on Purel hand sanitizer, Mr. Johnsonomen has conveniently run out, when needed it most.

Stressing over what he could possible do to quench his desire for the magic elixir which surely awaited him inside his nirvana, Jimmy paced quickly back and forth throughout the kitchen. Yanking at his hair, stomach in knots, he simply could not figure out a solution to his problem.

After a half hour of unbearable stress and pain, it hit him like a sack of manure. “I know exactly what to do!” he exclaimed. “I’ll grab my…”

Jimmy slammed into the counter top, cracking the fine marble that so eloquently decorated the fine piece of craftsmanship. In a fit of convulsions, he sent the curvaceous bottle of miracle medicine flying into the wall, cracking the bottle, and spilling the contents across the room. Jimmy fell to the floor clutching his chest. He struggled, but to no avail, he was now deep in the eternal slumber of the grim reaper.

The stress of being so close to nirvana, so close to his cure, had brought on a massive heart attack.

When the paramedics arrived, they saw Jimmy’s limp body on the kitchen floor, next to a broken pill bottle. The label on the pills read: “Germonetrix Dioxide: Prescribed by Dr. Kjchezlechy for the treatment of countertopitis and its symptoms”.

The formula for a castle - blog # 4

The formula for a castle

It was late in the day, and the children were growing wrestles. It had been a long day and Dr. Kjchezlechy, a brilliant man who has his decorate in primary education from Moscow Polytechnic, was growing weary.

An idea struck him; he thought he had found a way to get the children’s attention. How wrong could he be!

“I know what I can do,” said Kjchezlechy to himself. “I’ll teach the children the formula for building a castle.” Dr. K, as the children called him, because god only knows how hard it is for a child to pronounce Kjchezlechy , quickly pulled out one of his old math books. He stated jotting down formulas on the black board. He began to explain his theorems. “You have quadroplex A intersect quadroplex Q at a perpendicular angle of ninety degrees. Then you have you’re cylinder X which intersects both quadroplex A and Q.”

However, amid Dr. K’s lecture, and without a word, little Tommy Smith, the quietest boy in class, stood up and walked calmly to the back of the room.

Dr. K, who took no notice, kept on teaching his lesson. “Once we have our basic octagonal figure, we can then begin to build up our arch messurements which should combine to become one 180 degree angle.

Paying no attention to Dr. K, Tommy slowly began removing the building blocks in the play area. He began carefully selecting the blocks, and one at a time stacked them into a nice neat wall.

Finally after about five minutes, Dr. K took notice of Tommy in the back of the room. “Tommy!” screamed an outraged Dr. K, “what on God’s green earth are you doing?!”

Tommy calmly responded, “I’m showing the class the formula for a castle.”

In a moment of heat temperament, Dr. K marched to the back of the room, whopping stick in had, and grabbed Tommy off the floor.

“While I’m teaching you do not leave your…” Stopping mid sentence, Dr. K stood in awe.

“It’s remarkable,” proclaimed Dr. K

Stepping aside, Dr. K revealed a perfectly constructed castle.

Tommy innocently stated, “the formula for a castle is in the blocks you build with, not the mathematics you use.”

Realizing that he had been not only out smarted by a student, but by a student that he had written off as a moron, Dr. K went out to his car and drank himself into a coma.

The moral of the story: the mind of a child is not something to be underestimated. As for Dr. K, well he was committed to a loony bin which he still resides in to this day!