Muttman1967

Thanks, If you like this one you should read the one I did several months ago its titled Dear Fast Food Franchisee. I think, I don't... more »

Thanks, If you like this one you should read the one I did several months ago its titled Dear Fast Food Franchisee. I think, I don't remember, but its a letter to Burger joints.

Mutt Media LLC, a multimedia production and distribution company, has... more »

Mutt Media LLC, a multimedia production and distribution company, has released its first musical recording, "Tuck's Theme" (The Legend of Friar Tuck), performed by Friar and the Monastery Boys. A take off of and tribute to Frank Sinatra's music, the song is the opening number of "Tuck," a musical in progress written Mark A. Moyer, E.E. Pointer and Shawn Roney.

The tune is for sale (for only 99 cents) at CD Baby.com.

To check out Friar and the Monastery Boys' artist page at CD Baby.com, go to http://www.cdbaby.com/Artist/FriarandtheMonasteryBoys1.

Take care.

Muttman1967

Note: The following is an entry from the blog fiction series "The... more »

Note: The following is an entry from the blog fiction series "The Paperlessly Wallpapered I.O'U. Papers," a celebration of the life and works of Ivan O'Uris, a Luscian poet and journalist who supplements his income by giving tango lessons to aardvarks. If you feel it would be beneficial to read the other entries to get you up to speed with this one, then please visit http:www.funnyordie.com/muttman1967. If you want plunge in, then read the material below and enjoy.

An Ivan O’Uris poetic adaptation, titled …
Paraphrase of a passage from the entry to a journal kept by a 19th-century literary groupie, who recalls her backstage rendezvous with Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, particularly her reaction to Mr. Longfellow removing his trousers and showing her “Professor Balldee”

Longfellow was shoooooooooooooort.

– The End? –

Background Notes: This “poetic adaptation” had its premiere in February 1988 with a public recitation by Ivan at Ye Wilde Oates Club, an underground Kansas City, Mo., riverboat nightclub and casino for Quakers. Founded in the early 1980s in anticipation of the push for legalized riverboat gambling in Missouri, the club was owned by Lauren Oates, a would-be entertainer who became an entrepreneur after failing to draw interest in her act of portraying Warren Oates as a cabaret singer.

To help pay for college, Ivan worked as a bouncer at Ye Wilde Oates Club. However, not many Quakers frequented Ye Wilde Oates Club. To fight boredom, Ivan composed verse while waiting to card the occasional Quaker.

One night, Lauren Oates saw Ivan scribbling on a yellow notepad and asked what he was writing. Ivan told her it was a poem about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Sensing her customers were growing bored, she had unsuccessfully attempted to entertain them with her Warren Oates musical cabaret tribute. Desperate, she asked if Ivan would recite his poem.

Ivan’s performance was enthusiastically received. One audience member doused him with the bucket of Quaker Oats she had brought with her for Quakers Sow Your Wild Oates at Ye Wilde Oates Club with Quaker Oats Night. Unfortunately, the other audience member then immediately doused Ivan with 10W-30 engine oil because he mistakenly thought it was Quakers Celebrate with Quaker State Night and, caught up in his emotions, showed his appreciation by rushing the stage and enthusiastically pouring his bottle of Quaker State on Ivan’s head.

Since a recording of Ivan’s performance began appearing on bootlegged mix tapes in the early 1990s, a false rumor has surfaced that Ivan felt inspired to write the poem after hearing a Longfellow-related joke in the Rodney Dangerfield film “Back to School.” According to another false rumor, the poem is a veiled reference to Ivan’s feelings of inadequacy about the length of his own “Professor Balldee” following an alleged backstage erotic encounter with Lauren Oates at Ye Wilde Oates Club. Legend has it that Ms. Oates laughed so hard upon seeing Ivan’s “Professor Balldee” that she lost her sense of direction and accidentally knocked herself unconscious by staggering into a 10-foot concrete phallus that was one of her Warren Oates cabaret set pieces.

Actually, the poem’s inspiration comes from Ivan’s research for a college term paper for an English class about 19th-century literary groupies. For his topic, Ivan chose Penelope Layne, a groupie believed to have been the great-great-great-grandmother of Penny Lane, the famous 1970s rock groupie depicted in Cameron Crowe’s film “Almost Famous.” While researching her diaries, Ivan discovered that Ms. Layne had started the trend of literary groupies throwing their corsets onstage when authors did recitations, which foreshadowed the practice among rock groupies of chucking their panties onstage.

Ivan also discovered that Ms. Layne had a backstage encounter with Henry Wadsworth Longfellow during Longfellow’s 1864 recitation tour of New England. In his paper, Ivan quotes the following diary excerpt:

"June 18, 1864
"Dearest Beloved Diary, To Whom I Can Disclose My Tales of Temptation and Tawdriness,

"This glorious, sensuous night, which falls during the lateness of spring in breathless, shimmering, perspiring anticipation of summer’s glorious ejaculation of warmth and sunshine, I met the great poet Mr. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The languid, exquisite, yet supple verbal dexterity aroused my breasts so much that, yea, my bosoms swelled until my undergarments had to yield to their quest for freedom.

"Being ladylike, I delicately, gently, tempestuously, passionately placed my neatly arranged, soft alabaster white undergarments (with their tint of my female perspiration) by Mr. Longfellow’s feet and smiled the most coy of the multitude of feminine smiles I had learned at Lenora Hastington-Smythe’s Charm School and Boil Purging Academy for Ladies. Mr. Longfellow later invited me behind the plush, flowing, rippling lavender curtains that had been his backdrop. Ever the gentlemen [sic], he unbuttoned his swarthy wool trousers and requested the honor of my seeing his “Professor Balldee.”*

"Sadly, alas, Mr. Longfellow’s 'fellow' was not at all long…"

As the entry suggests, Ivan based the poem’s title on the first two major paragraphs and its text on the first sentence of the third. In adapting Ms. Layne’s diary entry, he wrote the word “short” with extra “o’s” and put the question mark after “The End” to symbolize her disappointment.

There’s a rumor that Ivan came up with various ways to paraphrase the text and was reluctant to use any of them, including the version printed here, because the wording differed from the original and he feared he would anger Ms. Layne’s spirit. There’s also a related rumor that he even stopped working on the piece and was afraid to finish it after having a disturbing, yet strangely pleasurable vision of Ms. Layne flogging him with a piece of raw tenderloin. As with most Ivan-related rumors, both are unfounded.

However, it’s true that Ivan’s original manuscript was misplaced for more than 10 years. Ivan O’Uris scholars E.E. Pointer and Shawn Roney found it a few years ago in Ivan’s cluttered apartment – underneath to the 10-foot concrete phallus given to him by Lauren Oates.

*According to Ivan’s research, Longfellow received the nickname “Professor Balldee” from another literary groupie, in reference to his Harvard University teaching stint. Pronounced like the word “baldy,” he used the alternate spelling of two “l’s” and two “e’s” because he felt that it gave his anatomical part dignity. In keeping with that, he placed an accent over the second “e” and pronounced it “bawl-DAY” during his encounters with French literary groupies.

©2009 Mutt Media LLC. All rights reserved.

Note: The following is an entry from the blog fiction series "The... more »

Note: The following is an entry from the blog fiction series "The Paperlessly Wallpapered I.O'U. Papers," a celebration of the life and works of Ivan O'Uris, a Luscian poet and journalist who supplements his income by giving tango lessons to aardvarks. If you feel it would be beneficial to read the other entries to get you up to speed with this one, then please visit http:www.funnyordie.com/muttman1967. If you want plunge in, then read the material below and enjoy.

Take care.

Muttman1967

An Ivan O’Uris poetic adaptation, titled …
Paraphrase of a passage from the entry to a journal kept by a 19th-century literary groupie, who recalls her backstage rendezvous with Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, particularly her reaction to Mr. Longfellow removing his trousers and showing her “Professor Balldee”

Longfellow was shoooooooooooooort.

– The End? –

Background Notes: This “poetic adaptation” had its premiere in February 1988 with a public recitation by Ivan at Ye Wilde Oates Club, an underground Kansas City, Mo., riverboat nightclub and casino for Quakers. Founded in the early 1980s in anticipation of the push for legalized riverboat gambling in Missouri, the club was owned by Lauren Oates, a would-be entertainer who became an entrepreneur after failing to draw interest in her act of portraying Warren Oates as a cabaret singer.

To help pay for college, Ivan worked as a bouncer at Ye Wilde Oates Club. However, not many Quakers frequented Ye Wilde Oates Club. To fight boredom, Ivan composed verse while waiting to card the occasional Quaker.

One night, Lauren Oates saw Ivan scribbling on a yellow notepad and asked what he was writing. Ivan told her it was a poem about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Sensing her customers were growing bored, she had unsuccessfully attempted to entertain them with her Warren Oates musical cabaret tribute. Desperate, she asked if Ivan would recite his poem.

Ivan’s performance was enthusiastically received. One audience member doused him with the bucket of Quaker Oats she had brought with her for Quakers Sow Your Wild Oates at Ye Wilde Oates Club with Quaker Oats Night. Unfortunately, the other audience member then immediately doused Ivan with 10W-30 engine oil because he mistakenly thought it was Quakers Celebrate with Quaker State Night and, caught up in his emotions, showed his appreciation by rushing the stage and enthusiastically pouring his bottle of Quaker State on Ivan’s head.

Since a recording of Ivan’s performance began appearing on bootlegged mix tapes in the early 1990s, a false rumor has surfaced that Ivan felt inspired to write the poem after hearing a Longfellow-related joke in the Rodney Dangerfield film “Back to School.” According to another false rumor, the poem is a veiled reference to Ivan’s feelings of inadequacy about the length of his own “Professor Balldee” following an alleged backstage erotic encounter with Lauren Oates at Ye Wilde Oates Club. Legend has it that Ms. Oates laughed so hard upon seeing Ivan’s “Professor Balldee” that she lost her sense of direction and accidentally knocked herself unconscious by staggering into a 10-foot concrete phallus that was one of her Warren Oates cabaret set pieces.

Actually, the poem’s inspiration comes from Ivan’s research for a college term paper for an English class about 19th-century literary groupies. For his topic, Ivan chose Penelope Layne, a groupie believed to have been the great-great-great-grandmother of Penny Lane, the famous 1970s rock groupie depicted in Cameron Crowe’s film “Almost Famous.” While researching her diaries, Ivan discovered that Ms. Layne had started the trend of literary groupies throwing their corsets onstage when authors did recitations, which foreshadowed the practice among rock groupies of chucking their panties onstage.

Ivan also discovered that Ms. Layne had a backstage encounter with Henry Wadsworth Longfellow during Longfellow’s 1864 recitation tour of New England. In his paper, Ivan quotes the following diary excerpt:

"June 18, 1864
"Dearest Beloved Diary, To Whom I Can Disclose My Tales of Temptation and Tawdriness,

"This glorious, sensuous night, which falls during the lateness of spring in breathless, shimmering, perspiring anticipation of summer’s glorious ejaculation of warmth and sunshine, I met the great poet Mr. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The languid, exquisite, yet supple verbal dexterity aroused my breasts so much that, yea, my bosoms swelled until my undergarments had to yield to their quest for freedom.

"Being ladylike, I delicately, gently, tempestuously, passionately placed my neatly arranged, soft alabaster white undergarments (with their tint of my female perspiration) by Mr. Longfellow’s feet and smiled the most coy of the multitude of feminine smiles I had learned at Lenora Hastington-Smythe’s Charm School and Boil Purging Academy for Ladies. Mr. Longfellow later invited me behind the plush, flowing, rippling lavender curtains that had been his backdrop. Ever the gentlemen [sic], he unbuttoned his swarthy wool trousers and requested the honor of my seeing his “Professor Balldee.”*

"Sadly, alas, Mr. Longfellow’s 'fellow' was not at all long…"

As the entry suggests, Ivan based the poem’s title on the first two major paragraphs and its text on the first sentence of the third. In adapting Ms. Layne’s diary entry, he wrote the word “short” with extra “o’s” and put the question mark after “The End” to symbolize her disappointment.

There’s a rumor that Ivan came up with various ways to paraphrase the text and was reluctant to use any of them, including the version printed here, because the wording differed from the original and he feared he would anger Ms. Layne’s spirit. There’s also a related rumor that he even stopped working on the piece and was afraid to finish it after having a disturbing, yet strangely pleasurable vision of Ms. Layne flogging him with a piece of raw tenderloin. As with most Ivan-related rumors, both are unfounded.

However, it’s true that Ivan’s original manuscript was misplaced for more than 10 years. Ivan O’Uris scholars E.E. Pointer and Shawn Roney found it a few years ago in Ivan’s cluttered apartment – underneath to the 10-foot concrete phallus given to him by Lauren Oates.

*According to Ivan’s research, Longfellow received the nickname “Professor Balldee” from another literary groupie, in reference to his Harvard University teaching stint. Pronounced like the word “baldy,” he used the alternate spelling of two “l’s” and two “e’s” because he felt that it gave his anatomical part dignity. In keeping with that, he placed an accent over the second “e” and pronounced it “bawl-DAY” during his encounters with French literary groupies.

©2009 Mutt Media LLC. All rights reserved.

The following piece comprises issue No. 21 of the blog fiction series "The... more »

The following piece comprises issue No. 21 of the blog fiction series "The Paperlessly Wallpapered I.O'U. Papers," a celebration of the writings of Ivan O'Uris, a journalist and poet from the island of Luscia who supplements his income by choreographing Vegas-style dance numbers for sumo wrestlers. Although it helps to read the series from the beginning, you should be able to follow this out of context. It's between the short lines of asterisks. Enjoy.

Muttman1967

P.S.: There are two links where you can check out more material. See below.

********************

O.K., ’dusa,
My darlin’ baklava,
You may
Get up.

You have read …
One-sentence poem No. 3,245,638 – an excerpt from Greek bite-sized mini-legend No. πΛΣΩ x 3.14, part II: Eros’ remark to Medusa, who has gotten on her knees to stare at his “Khronos,” which doesn’t stay rock-solid for as long as it did when he used to have afternoon ménages a trois with Medusa and Madonna (who’s older than people think), because Medusa’s “pulsating pink Parthenon” still burns the nightly oil lamps of lingering lactating lust for his “Khronos” and wants to return it to its ’round-the-clock, rock-solid glory

As adapted by Ivan O’Uris

Background Notes: “One-sentence poem No. 3,245,638” is an adaptation of the sequel to the bite-sized mini-legend that Ivan O’Uris adapted as “One-sentence poem No. 3,245,637” (see issue No. 15). It was originally planned to have been the featured poem for issue No. 16, but was withheld at the last minute because a gentlemen who had read issue No. 15 at Funny or Die.com suffered traumatic flashbacks, in which he imagined he was watching “Clash of the Titans” again (see related comments at http://funnyordie.com/muttman1967). Mutt Media LLC has waited until now to publish “One-sentence poem No. 3,245,638” as a sign of sensitivity. It takes time, after all, to recover from the trauma of watching a 1980s Laurence Olivier movie.

Before providing background notes on “One-sentence poem No. 3,245,638,” it’s necessary to provide a brief summary of “One-sentence poem No. 3,245,637” for those unfamiliar with it and/or its backstory. “One-sentence poem No. 3,245,637” is an adaptation of a Greek bite-sized mini-legend involving Medusa and Zeus, in which a drunken Zeus summons Medusa in a bar to help him resolve his erectile dysfunction problem, but is turned to stone because she looks at his whole body, instead of his sagging “Mount Olympus.”*

Ivan learned about the mini-legend during his 2003 trip to Greece while chatting in Athens with Chuck Cropophilus, a professional cabdriver, philosopher and womanizer who has repeatedly lobbied the Greek Parliament to pass a law making it mandatory for Greeks ages 21 and older to purify their souls by bathing in Greek coffee. Cropophilus told Ivan the Zeus-Medusa tale during an ouzo drinking binge. He told Ivan the sequel while treating the aftereffects of that binge with Greek coffee. (It remains unknown if Cropophilus tried to treat the hangover by drinking the coffee or bathing in it.)

According to the sequel, just as Zeus started doing his unintentional impression of classic sculpture, the Greek god Eros entered Aphrodite’s Aphrodisiac, where the Zeus-Medusa incident had just happened. Medusa had her back to Eros. Casually, Eros slipped up behind Medusa and slipped a blindfold around her eyes.

“Heyest thereth, my beautiful, bodacious, buxom buttered baklava,” Eros murmured, adding a warm-breath-in-the-ear touch to make her head tilt in that sexy way he loved.

“Heyest thyselfeth, my hunk of hot humid human hummus,” Medusa replied. “How didst thouest recognizeth me?”

“Why I wouldst knoweth the rear of thy head anywherest, my darlin’ baklava,” Eros said. “Yea, I’ve seeneth it too many times during too many ménages a trois with theest and the fair Madonna to not knoweth it.”

Although Medusa was angry with Eros because “Mr. Love God” hadn’t seen her in years and hadn’t even contacted her by messenger, she still wanted to reunite with him. “My pink pulsating Parthenon** hast yearnedeth for thee,” she purred. “How havest thou beenest?”

Eros said he was depressed. As with Zeus, he had erectile dysfunctions issues. But unlike Zeus, who couldn’t get his “Mount Olympus” to stand tall at all, Eros’ “Khronos” would stand tall for only a few minutes, rather than days and weeks, as had been the case when he had been the hit of the Greek god party scene and had inspired Athena to declare that his toga tickler “lasted longer than the Coloss-i-Sham”***. While partying a few weeks earlier with Hermes, Eros’ Khronos experienced durability dysfunction, prompting Hermes to crack, “It appeareth the sand is out of thyest hourglass, lover boy.” An argument ensued, culminating in Eros betting that he could keep his Khronos as upright as a sundial for as long as it took Hermes to lap the Earth 10 million times.

Eros pleadingly asked Medusa to use her powers to help him win his bet. Medusa replied: “Why shouldest I? Thouest callest on me only whenest thou wantest something for thyself, oh ye with the head of chowder!” Eros kissed Medusa on the neck and assured her he was a changed Greek god. Seduced, Medusa kneeled, put on blinders and gazed at Eros’ crotch. When he saw his Khronos had regained its rock-solid glory, he said the line that forms the text of the above poem.

Rumor has it there’s another part to this bite-sized mini-legend. To find out, keep reading “The Paperlessly Wallpapered I.O’U. Papers” – or go to Athens and find Chuck Cropophilus.

*“Mount Olympus” is a euphemism for … colossal Cyclops of carnality.

**“Pink pulsating Parthenon” is a euphemism for … passionate pink petunia.

***The Coloss-i-Sham was a popular drying cloth in ancient Greece. It’s believed to have inspired the ShamWow. Eros called his toga tickler his “mighty Coloss-i-Sham” until the Greek clock-watching god Khronos suggested it be named after him for its ability to “stand beyond the confines of time.”

©2009 Mutt Media LLC. All rights reserved.

********************

To read more of "The Paperlessly Wallpapered I.O'U. Papers," visit one of the following links:

http://www.funnyordie.com/muttman1967

http://muttmediallc.com

The following piece comprises issue No. 21 of the blog fiction series "The... more »

The following piece comprises issue No. 21 of the blog fiction series "The Paperlessly Wallpapered I.O'U. Papers," a celebration of the writings of Ivan O'Uris, a journalist and poet from the island of Luscia who supplements his income by choreographing Vegas-style dance numbers for sumo wrestlers. Although it helps to read the series from the beginning, you should be able to follow this out of context. The excerpt is located between the short lines of asterisks. Enjoy.

Muttman1967

********************

O.K., ’dusa,
My darlin’ baklava,
You may
Get up.

You have read …
One-sentence poem No. 3,245,638 – an excerpt from Greek bite-sized mini-legend No. πΛΣΩ x 3.14, part II: Eros’ remark to Medusa, who has gotten on her knees to stare at his “Khronos,” which doesn’t stay rock-solid for as long as it did when he used to have afternoon ménages a trois with Medusa and Madonna (who’s older than people think), because Medusa’s “pulsating pink Parthenon” still burns the nightly oil lamps of lingering lactating lust for his “Khronos” and wants to return it to its ’round-the-clock, rock-solid glory

As adapted by Ivan O’Uris

Background Notes: “One-sentence poem No. 3,245,638” is an adaptation of the sequel to the bite-sized mini-legend that Ivan O’Uris adapted as “One-sentence poem No. 3,245,637” (see issue No. 15). It was originally planned to have been the featured poem for issue No. 16, but was withheld at the last minute because a gentleman who had read issue No. 15 at Funny or Die.com suffered traumatic flashbacks, in which he imagined he was watching “Clash of the Titans” again (see related comments at http://funnyordie.com/muttman1967). Mutt Media LLC has waited until now to publish “One-sentence poem No. 3,245,638” as a sign of sensitivity. It takes time, after all, to recover from the trauma of watching a 1980s Laurence Olivier movie.

Before providing background notes on “One-sentence poem No. 3,245,638,” it’s necessary to provide a brief summary of “One-sentence poem No. 3,245,637” for those unfamiliar with it and/or its backstory. “One-sentence poem No. 3,245,637” is an adaptation of a Greek bite-sized mini-legend involving Medusa and Zeus, in which a drunken Zeus summons Medusa in a bar to help him resolve his erectile dysfunction problem, but is turned to stone because she looks at his whole body, instead of his sagging “Mount Olympus.”*

Ivan learned about the mini-legend during his 2003 trip to Greece while chatting in Athens with Chuck Cropophilus, a professional cabdriver, philosopher and womanizer who has repeatedly lobbied the Greek Parliament to pass a law making it mandatory for Greeks ages 21 and older to purify their souls by bathing in Greek coffee. Cropophilus told Ivan the Zeus-Medusa tale during an ouzo drinking binge. He told Ivan the sequel while treating the aftereffects of that binge with Greek coffee. (It remains unknown if Cropophilus tried to treat the hangover by drinking the coffee or bathing in it.)

According to the sequel, just as Zeus started doing his unintentional impression of classic sculpture, the Greek god Eros entered Aphrodite’s Aphrodisiac, where the Zeus-Medusa incident had just happened. Medusa had her back to Eros. Casually, Eros slipped up behind Medusa and slipped a blindfold around her eyes.

“Heyest thereth, my beautiful, bodacious, buxom buttered baklava,” Eros murmured, adding a warm-breath-in-the-ear touch to make her head tilt in that sexy way he loved.

“Heyest thyselfeth, my hunk of hot humid human hummus,” Medusa replied. “How didst thouest recognizeth me?”

“Why I wouldst knoweth the rear of thy head anywherest, my darlin’ baklava,” Eros said. “Yea, I’ve seeneth it too many times during too many ménages a trois with theest and the fair Madonna to not knoweth it.”

Although Medusa was angry with Eros because “Mr. Love God” hadn’t seen her in years and hadn’t even contacted her by messenger, she still wanted to reunite with him. “My pink pulsating Parthenon** hast yearnedeth for thee,” she purred. “How havest thou beenest?”

Eros said he was depressed. As with Zeus, he had erectile dysfunctions issues. But unlike Zeus, who couldn’t get his “Mount Olympus” to stand tall at all, Eros’ “Khronos” would stand tall for only a few minutes, rather than days and weeks, as had been the case when he had been the hit of the Greek god party scene and had inspired Athena to declare that his toga tickler “lasted longer than the Coloss-i-Sham”***. While partying a few weeks earlier with Hermes, Eros’ Khronos experienced durability dysfunction, prompting Hermes to crack, “It appeareth the sand is out of thyest hourglass, lover boy.” An argument ensued, culminating in Eros betting that he could keep his Khronos as upright as a sundial for as long as it took Hermes to lap the Earth 10 million times.

Eros pleadingly asked Medusa to use her powers to help him win his bet. Medusa replied: “Why shouldest I? Thouest callest on me only whenest thou wantest something for thyself, oh ye with the head of chowder!” Eros kissed Medusa on the neck and assured her he was a changed Greek god. Seduced, Medusa kneeled, put on blinders and gazed at Eros’ crotch. When he saw his Khronos had regained its rock-solid glory, he said the line that forms the text of the above poem.

Rumor has it there’s another part to this bite-sized mini-legend. To find out, keep reading “The Paperlessly Wallpapered I.O’U. Papers” – or go to Athens and find Chuck Cropophilus.

*“Mount Olympus” is a euphemism for … colossal Cyclops of carnality.

**“Pink pulsating Parthenon” is a euphemism for … passionate pink petunia.

***The Coloss-i-Sham was a popular drying cloth in ancient Greece. It’s believed to have inspired the ShamWow. Eros called his toga tickler his “mighty Coloss-i-Sham” until the Greek clock-watching god Khronos suggested it be named after him for its ability to “stand beyond the confines of time.”

©2009 Mutt Media LLC. All rights reserved.

********************

To read more of "The Paperlessly Wallpapered I.O'U. Papers," visit one of the following links:

http://www.funnyordie.com/muttman1967

http://muttmediallc.com