Tag: one minute read

As Seen At Wally Green’s.

~ Jen ~ 3 Comments

Wally Green’s Brand Spanking-New Inventions

DO-IT-YOURSELF NASAL ENDOSCOPY

Why go to the doctor when you can do your own medical tests? New to Wally’s Pharmacy Department, pick your nose and use our hose to see what troubles your throat may pose. Buy one, get one half-off (but never free!)

“Works like a charm!” – Lifted truck salesman and Juggalo, Brandon Dixon, Peotone

CRAP FLAPPITY 

This toilet seat is not only buy one, get one half off (but never free), but it attacks people randomly using Wally’s patented cheap brackets. Why take a boring dump when you can take an annoying one? 

“This is an awesome toilet seat!” – Communal narcadoodle, photo-op enthusiast and entramanure Bernadette Cacca, Manteno

Goes great on any FussPot. Get Wally’s half-ply toilet paper to put in it!

DAEMON PHONE FROM HELL

These mobile phones are three for $1000 (must buy three). Why buy a boring mobile phone? Wally’s exclusive D-Mobile phone plays with itself when you are aren’t looking, dialing random numbers and opening random crapApps. Maybe it will dial 911 when you least expect it!

“D-Mobile is a great phone. Trust me, I sell them myself!” — Wally Green’s floor clerk Robbie Hurlbutt, Kankakee

JoAnn Kibble is Chock Fulla Nuts

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JoAnn Kibble loves watching the squirrels chase each other in her Kankakee backyard, while looking out the window from the basement apartment she rents from her daughter, CRASS Lead Bill Collector and dog food aficionado Sybil.

Much to the backyard birds’ dismay, she fills the feeders full of nuts.

In The Year 2525…

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At the Indiana Museum of Natural History, this cryptid is a type of shape-shifting turkey vulture. Only one other example has been uncovered, both during a dig near Albion in Noble County. Rumor has it, her name was Sonya and she did a lot of moronic things, along with her sister Carla.

Oh no, not the Elon Musk bones!

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Kankakee basic babe, bill-collector and dog food enthusiast Sybil Kibble got so excited to acquire the new contract with ExPeedia, she bought herself some treats to celebrate. Unfortunately for her, she got the fool’s bones by mistake.

Ten ways to ward off cold weather gear enquirers.

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Try these helpful replies to nosey “Where’s your jacket?” spammers:

  1. Busy.
  2. Google it.
  3. At 30,000 feet.
  4. My dog ate it
  5. No you can’t borrow it.
  6. It’s pushing up daisies.
  7. :: random fart noises::
  8. Say the name of a ghost town.
  9. A horse took it.
  10. The network is down.

Konrad’s New Brown-Drink Adventure

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Tycoon tyrant Konrad opens a new café inside his Bourbonnais multiplex, Cinema-13. The barista had just poured the drinks and of COURSE he orders his son Bratley to pick them up.

“You’re hired! Now git to work!” Kon demands while he dreams of the big bags he will make from his new bean-soup business venture, happy to be rid of his former concessions clerk Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt whom he fired after he stopped showing up to work, because he was too busy getting caught trying to storm Area 51.

Want to go behind the scenes and see the artistic process behind these silly stories? Visit: https://ko-fi.com/artbyjenx and if you feel so inclined, leave Chief Moron Wrangler Jen a tip. The Moroniverse will thank you. :)

MoronicArts Classics: Money Can’t Buy You Love, Robbie.

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The Hurlbutts get together for their annual Christmas shenanigans. After opening $1000 worth of useless crap from Damien, Kankakee store clerk, covert narcissist and Elvis impersonator Robbie opens the sole gift from his mother. PJ could not wait to give this to Robbie.

Robbie opens his present. “Maaaa, you got this for free from Sybil.”

“It’s an autographed Elvis picture! I got it for you because I know how much you love Elvis.”

“You paid nothing for it. I spent $100 on that Blu-Ray player and the bootleg copy of Dune.”

“Money can’t buy you love, Robbie,” a disappointed PJ advises her spoiled brat son, who is throwing a tantrum like a three-year-old.

“I’ll take it. I can sell it on eBay!” the elder Hurlbutt son Damien tells his little brother Robbie.

The Hurlbutt brothers argue back and forth — after all, that is what narcissists love to do. PJ tries to break up the fight. Meanwhile, smoke is coming from the kitchen.

PJ runs into the kitchen.

“What is that?” Damien inquires.

“The Yule Log,” PJ sarcastically replies.

PJ takes the meat out of the oven just in time to stop a fire, and sends her dorky kids home so she can have a peaceful rest.

Before PJ has a chance to lie down, her best friend Sybil Kibble rings the doorbell.

Ahhh, holiday cheer.

Merry Christmas from MoronicArts!

Classified Ad Fails from the 1990s

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Are you lost? Why use Google Maps when you can rent a physic? Just 3.99 a minute to subscribe.

I am glad that stripped kitty got home from the club okay. He must have been cold after taking off his coat.

Perfect food for a green grouch, heh heh heh.

Did Peppi Cacca leave Bern and run for the hills? Let us hope. Then again, maybe not. The couple that poops together, stays together.

Archfarchnad?

~ Jen ~ 2 Comments
Daily writing prompt
List your top 5 grocery store items.
View all responses

My favourite Welsh word is the word for supermarket — “#archfarchnad”

Dw i’n hoffi coffi – I like coffee
(no covfefe about it)

Weithiau, dw i’n prynu losin – Sometimes, I buy candy
(Andes Candies are great, unlike Andy Skandees)

Llefrith, ffrythiau a llysiau — Milk, fruits and veggies are my other top three.

“Archfarchnad” is fun so say. It sounds like I am cursing, and feels just as cathartic, when I’m just talking about the grocery store. (Though I would not blame you one bit for cursing in Walley World.)

Damien’s Dreamland Christmas Wish

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Like most narc-a-doodles, Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt does not sleep well, usually because lies awake dreaming up devious schemes. This is not one of those nights.

“Her toes, her toes, her delicious toes…let me sniff her toes…cover them in barbecue sauce, oh M’Lori, M’lady Madame….”

“Vitals!”

Damien’s audible pillow talk comes to an abrupt halt.

“You okay in there? Time to get your vitals before we install your probe,” says a worker sporting a badge reading “Alternative Fuels Department, Area 51.”

Damien gazes over at the wall-mounted digital clock, which reads 0500 Hours.

“You’re a freak. Your body contains the highest concentration of natural gas we have ever tested here in Dreamland,” the nurse says after they capture Damien’s blood pressure, temperature and pulse oximetry.

“Now time for your daily flatulence testing!”