Pnårp’s docile & perfunctory page

Pnårp bumped and gurgled around underground, where he is now found.

Pnårp went spinning on the hamster wheel of life this week, even though there is no wheel and his Christmas lights weren’t straight.

Pnårp lay here softly—yes, it did?

Pnårp moldered more boldly, wondering about em-dashes, en-dashes, ell-dashes, Mike the Headless Chicken, and what it’s like to be out of his gourd—but on his beanwater.

Pnårp moldered more boldly, wondering about the comical paracosm of his life, revolting long Swedes, meatballs and sausage, and how sinister the ambidextrous are.

Pnårp moldered more boldly, wondering about potatoes, cevition, crisation, defutution, dumb potted plants, and an old geezer geezing to and fro.

Pnårp moldered more boldly, wondering about grasshoppers, legs, tenderloins, Trills, and an inventory of daisies.

Pnårp moldered boldly under a patch of fungus, wondering how his kerfrumpt, skeezle-wumpus, and Nurdlebutt were doing without him.

Pnårp thought about all the ways being dead has its advantages—and there are so many!

Pnårp maintained that being dead has its advantages!

Pnårp discovered that being dead has its advantages!

Pnårp watched with his huzzey-muffet as the whole world dissolved into thick, lurid horse mucus.

Pnårp fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down.

Pnårp began to regret last week’s thousand-word salad—especially when he realized he was out of thousand-island dressing!

Pnårp watched the Sun sink into the unthinking depths below the Earth, while groundhogs oinked, grunions surfed, and Beetles flew off like butterflies.

Pnårp continued to hirple, his huzzey-muffet was hobbled, and his buttocks smarted like no one’s business!

Pnårp got through the entire day without sneezing.

Pnårp hirpled about, burping, empurpled about the countenance, until everyone else started hirpling too.

Pnårp used to think there was an entire underground world in the sewers made out of poop.

Pnårp had second thoughts about eating all those unexploded fireworks… last year.

Pnårp discalced his huzzey-muffet, got kicked in the head (but by the horse), and discovered his sticks of butter had all been burgled!

Pnårp wondered why all zippers have that little square hole in their pullers, then had to deal with a clockroach and sockroach infestation.

Pnårp thought he forgot how to ribbit, too!

Pnårp thought he forgot how to write this week!

Pnårp solved the problem of them flying across the room in every direction!

Pnårp didn’t lose a single fingernail this week but then realized his nose had become utterly superfluous!

Pnårp began his day with sour coffee, stolen newspapers, and a traffic jam.

Pnårp pondered the Twiceler, Ogo, Eëtal-Otoh-Satt, Eëtarrh-Otorrh-Sharrtt, Zorb McBorbley, and accelerating his celery until his coccyx broke!

Pnårp found himself in a variety of sticky pickles and miserable failures this week, which ended with the stickiest pickle of all!

Pnårp recounted the years while using a plethora of apostrophes—too many to count!

Pnårp furiously scrolled down and down and down and down and down and down and down and finally hit the bottom of the page!

Pnårp finally revealed to the world where all those payphones have gone.

Pnårp learned to not get upset over meaningless piffle and learned to love these new doubled-up days!

Rainbows were shooting out its ass and angels were singing and praising its holiness—it was the finest polished turd that Pnårp found!

Ribbit… ribbit… ribbit.

Pnårp browsed websites from the 1990s, lit a lighter, ate a lozenge, glimpsed a pair of ducks, and suffered one day repeating all week long.

Pnårp experienced jumping spiders jumping, days emerging out of order, insufficient quantities of flip-flops, and a nightmare about swapping skins.

In an unusual turn of events, Pnårp noshed upon unusual amounts of the usual things, then regretted the ghastly horrors that ensued.

Pnårp watched in dismay as his toilet float deflated and sank.

Ribbit… ribbit… ribbit.

Pnårp painted some spare ribs green and called them celery.

Pnårp defeated a nefarious foe this week—who lived inside his bathroom wall!

Having defeated a fish in hand-to-hand combat, a mere ha’week away, Pnårp will best every other gurner!

Pnårp promised there’d be no more ghoughphtheightteeaux, but then desecration and execrations over defecation got the best of this blog entry.

Pnårp and his huzzey-muffet had an out-of-order horse adventure this week—which also solved his printer problems!

Pnårp thought about gurning in the near future, visited his favorite loo, stacked some cardboard boxes, then made sonorous noises.

Pnårp asked 2024’s toughest questions: Chickens—salad or grain?

Pnårp made a laughing stock out of himself by eating all the slide whistles made of cheese.

Pnårp put down his nose hairbrush and went to work on the week’s machinations, ruminations, and tintinnabulations.

Pnårp had a good one.