Sunday, May 31, 2009

The 88th Thing to Do with a Lobster and a Slightly Soiled Pair of Lederhosen [May 31st | 133/365]

A man will call, he will tell you he's a lobster, but don't believe him. Nevertheless, tell him that you're wearing lederhosen and when he asks you about the barely perceptible stain marks tell him that they're just crustacean eggs and definitely not the viscera of the last man who crossed you. He will ask if crustaceans lay eggs and tell him you don't know, you're too busy eviscerating people who ask inconvenient questions to keep track of the procreation methods of the various subphyla, something he'll say he understands. He'll tell you that the money is where it supposed to be and all the trawling reports too. Tell him he's a good lobster and that he can lick your lederhosen clean. He'll say that he doesn't think lobsters have tongues. That's when you know he's a traitor and that there are men outside who'll break down your door three seconds hence. Hoist up your hosen and leap out the bathroom window. Run, as fast and as far as your leatherclad thighs can take you.

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