Hey, peeps. The word in the halls is that Severedfinger is desperately seeking a new apartment. Apparently, the dust in his current place is now piled so high that he is having trouble squeezing through the constricted space between the top of the dust layers and the ceiling.
He’s also having a particular problem when he returns from the pub after finishing his mostly liquid meal. Climbing up the dust hill behind his door is rather difficult when he’s in the state he is usually in after his thrice-daily sessions at the pub.
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Hey peeps, here’s a freakily weird story for you.
During one of our near-constant storms, a massive wave washed up on our shores, as they frequently do. A couple of hours later, the inclement weather subsided sufficiently for Pigsface to dash outside briefly to catch a bit of air.
(Just to be clear, in Shalampax, the term “inclement” refers to any weather that is just short of catastrophic, catastrophic, or beyond catastrophic. Weather that is any less calamitous than that is referred to as “pleasant.”)
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Hi peeps. A couple of weeks ago I told you that, because she had lost so much weight that she could no longer serve as a role model for the rest of us to look up to and feel good about our own obesity and lack of fitness, Tuboflard would lose her job as Chief Medical Officer. Well, my prediction came true. She’s unemployed.
This is a major problem for her because it turns out that, not only were morbid obesity and a sedentary lifestyle her only qualifications for the Chief Medical Officer job, but they were also her only qualifications, period. Tuboflard can’t find another job, but she has herself and her triplets to feed, clothe and house. Her future looked bleak.
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Hey, peeps. Are you sitting down? If not, you might want to do so before you read this because I’ve got news that will knock you off your feet. You wouldn’t want to hurt your ass when you fell, now would you?
Tuboflard, Chief Medical Officer at the Shalampax Medical Clinic — or I should say former Chief Medical Officer, but more on that later — has lost weight; a lot of weight. Whereas in the past her weight technically qualified her as a not so small building, she’s now packing only 180 pounds on that 5′ 8″ body of hers.
There’s still no chance that Tuboflard will be mistaken for anorexic, but, without having to stand too far back, most people’s peripheral vision is now more than adequate to take in the full width of her. In the past, most rooms in Shalampax weren’t big enough to allow people to stand far enough back for that.
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Hey peeps, I’ve got some earth-shattering gossip for you. Manexposinghimself, Shalampax’s Prime Minister, isn’t saying much about it publicly, but his friends tell me that he has come up with a foolproof plan for bringing about lasting world peace. And I’m not talking about only eliminating wars. Manexposinghimself’s plan would also end localized fighting among groups, one-on-one violence, and just bitchy, vociferous arguments as well.
If carried through to fruition, this infallible peace plan would absolutely guarantee that Manexposinghimself will be awarded next year’s Nobel Peace Prize. There wouldn’t even be a contest.
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Categories: Gossip Tags: Gossip, idle, idleness, indolence, laziness, lazy, Nobel Peace Prize, peace, Peace Prize, sloth, world peace
I’m sure that all of my peeps reading this are well aware that Tuboflard, the Chief Medical Officer at the Shalampax Medical Clinic, is, to say the least, considerably less than enamored with her role as a mother of triplets. Thus, it will come as no surprise that Scurryingcockroach, a recent visitor to Tuboflards’ apartment, was shocked when she saw only two of the triplets playing in their baby litter box. The third infant was nowhere to be seen.
Scurryingcockroach feared the worst. (Or the best, depending on your point of view. Most Shalampaxians consider children to be a terrible bother.) Being still of child-bearing age, a panic set over Scurryingcockroach when she realized that, if Tuboflard had killed one of her infants, Scurryingcockroach herself might suffer the misfortune of being chosen to fill Shalampax’s population gap.
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