THE WALRUS' Disasters

Story #3. Dedicated to someone who wanted this story.

So, a certain someone who shall not be named (Dean) wanted me to write another silly story, with grammatical errors, chat-speak and fairies but no kawaii-desu-kaa because he is a meaniefais who once had a beard. If you don’t know me (99% chance you don’t) I must warn you my stories make A LOT OF SENSE. I am God.

Once upon a time, in a far far far far farfarfapfapfarfapfap - ahem - FAR away land, there lived a beautiful mutated carrot. It had no legs, no eyes, no arms… it was long and orange. If you’re unfamiliar with ”carrots”, they’re like B-A-N-A-N-A-S, but ORANGE and not curvy. They’re sort of like teenage sticks who wish they had what potatoes have: hot Men-in-Black sunglasses, the CharlieChaplinFAISstache, and a Kenshin scar on their left buttcheek. DASS RITE. LEFT BUTTCHEEK, I SAID IT.

Back to the story, the carrot’s name was Carrot, but it’s MISS Carrot for you, you two-eyed human with a computer and internet access. MISS Carrot was the proud owner of an overactive imagination, which means she could predict the future, which means she was very much like the KFC grandpa guy man, which means she could save the universe if she wanted to, which also means she could fuck us all up if she felt like it, which means we’re all f’d. We’re all gonna die horrible deaths, and it’s all her fault. Thanks to me, now you’ll know why you won’t end up in an afterlife filled with rotting unicorn corpses, insects poop, and broccoli but in a MILKY WAY WITH DANCING FLOWERS, FAIRY DUST, UNICORN ASS HAIR, AND MORE AWESOME THINGS YOU WISH YOU HAD IN YOUR LIFE, but you don’t because you are not the proud owner of a time machine that could take you back to Da Vinci’s year, where you’d get to witness the end of Sir Shoe, a most painful but awesome death you’ll never have because you are a human being with internet access and too much time on your hands as if you don’t have anything better to do, which you actually do but you choose to ignore it because wasting time on the GLORIOUS INTERNET is way better than living real, boring life. DASS RITE. REAL BORING LIFE YOU GOT THERE. YEAH.

Anyway yeah, now you know who to blame. You’re lucky I exist.

I shall mindfuck you some more later. It’s time to sneeze myself to death.

Sir Cool Banana

Once upon a time, there was a banana. It was a good-smelling and tasty fruit that always wore a yellow jacket, cool black sunglasses, a mustache and a monocle on top of the sunglasses. As you can understand from the extremely well-detailed description, it was a COOL BANANA. Cooler than the sun, lava, peanutbutterjellysammich, nuclear toes and THE INTERNET. Dass rite! It was a very cool banana.

Sir Banana was very fond of coconuts, he found them both fascinating science experiments and entertaining. As we all know, bananas aren’t easily entertained, but Sir Banana was a cool banana: it was unique, amazing, cool, banana-y, mustache-y, one of a kind. But like everything else on planet Earth, it had a weakness: it was soft, too soft! Which meant anything could harm Sir Banana! A flying saucer, a needle on the ground, a marshmallow, a buffalo, an old hag with 99 cats and 1 tricycle, a watermelon, a grape, a shoelace, hot weather, cold weather, finger nails, liver, cholesterol, potassium, CHEESEBURGERS! The list of things that could cause fatality were endless. ENDLESS! I like to repeat words for emphasis. EMPHASIS!

However, Sir Banana didn’t let his weakness stop him for living life. Oh noooo, he didn’t. Until his untimely death in 1203 he lived life to the fullest! Yes! He sat on a kitchen table, and admired the coconuts as they entertained him by staying absolutely still, he then sat on a dining table, and admired Siria Puddi as she sat down for break-fast and started torturing a slice of pizza, and lastly, he flew, HE FCKING FLEW! (thanks to me, and my ability to hold things), and his head landed into her mouth, yellow jacket, sunglasses, monocle, mustache and all.

And now we have all realized that it’s not 1203, but 2011, and Sir Banana is in my tummy, still living life to the fullest. He’s a very cool banana. And yes, an exclamation point can now be followed by a comma, as of Thursday, November 17th, 2011 at 6:33am Italy time.

The best story you will ever read.

The best story you will ever read in your entire life, brought to you by THE WALRUS and a drawing of a Justin Bieber fan drawn by yours truly. If you like Justin Bieber, answer my question: don’t you look EXACTLY like this green-mustache-weird-eyed-thing? Yes, yes you do. I knew it. I should have my own TV show.

There’s a few things you should remember: 1. Don’t question my intelligence, THE WALRUS is a far superior specie, 2. I write like an idiot on purpose, it’s funnier. If you want good quality (but ahem, boring!) stories go read real books, like The Twilight Sagas, and get off the internet.

This story is about walruses, puddings, pineapples, wars, internet memes, and toilet paper. Let’s go back to before you were born, before your parents were born, before their parents were born, and their parents, and their parents’ dogs, and before Napoleonazipizzafais, and before humans existed, and before the EARTH WAS ALL, BOOM I AM HERE NOW DINOSAURS CAN COME TO LIFE AND PICK THEIR NOSES. Woo! You know, that’s all Dinosaurs ever did: chase their tails (or their horns, or their wings, or butterflies, or leprechauns, or…), eat raspberries every 55.5 seconds, and pick their noses. Archeoloshits and other -oloshits will tell you otherwise, but their minds and spleens are corrupted, so don’t believe them. Pineapples live in their eye-sockets, because pineapples are evil beings.

The first pineapple was born the year of the Shitapple (Year -0, for you humans). One fine Monday, the Earth realized just how boring and miserable he really was… so instead of, you know, going for a little space tour or going dancing with the Moon (Sun was too hot for him), or reading a damn book what he did was wiggle his non-existant butt and TA DA’, PINEAPPLES WERE BORN WOOHOO LET’S EAT SOME PUDDING! I made a really good pudding this morning before going to Rome, but I ate it all, so you can’t have it. I wouldn’t share it with you anyway, because I’m a meanfais and I don’t deserve this apple I’m eating right now. Apples don’t taste good anyway, so why the heck am I eating this?

… but anyway, we were talking about pudding. And before that, pineapples, so let’s stick with pineapples for today and talk about puddings some other day! Not that I have anything against puddings, I am half pudding, but it’s a much longer story I will tell you some other day, so there’s no need for you to curl into a ball like that and weep. WEEP. STOP WEEPING. STFU AND LISTEN TO MEEEE. What’s that? Why did Earth create pineapples and not peaches? Because Earth wanted others to suffer just as much as he was! Pineapples are EVIL and they make lots of people in the world cry every single second, forever! These poor victims cry for their entire lives!

The first pineapple’s name was Pineashiet. He was big, strong, and had a crooked-y nose and he didn’t like anyone because he was ALONE. ALOOONE. FOREVER ALONE! Even Forever Alone has friends, but not Pineashiet! No! Because he was the first thing to walk on Earth! Except that he couldn’t walk, because he didn’t have any legs! Or arms! OR A NOSE! So he was one sad, angry little piece of rotten sanitary pad. He was all alone for a long, long, long, long, long, long, ong, ong, ong, ong, ng, ng, ng, ng, g, g, g HHHHHHHHNNNNNNNGGGG A LONG TIME OKAY? Okay. Then one day Earth was all, “PINEAPPLE IS ONE BORING PINEAPPLE, TIME TO CREATE AN ENEMY FOR HIM SO HE CAN GO CAVE-MAN ON THE ENEMY, EXCEPT THAT CAVE-MEN DON’T EXIST YET, SO WTF AM I TALKING ABOUT. WHAT IS THIS, I DON’T EVEN-“

And so, Dinosaurs were born.

— To be continued.