What Happens When You Dip Your Soul In A Chocolate Ice-Cream, Urine And Motor Oil Mixture

CHAPTER I:

I was sitting on my balcony (now that's a lie) thinking about my childhood (now that's an even bigger lie) when guess who walked into my (in)famous studio apartment (huge lie) in Western Borneo (huger lie)? That's right! Ernie (hugest of huge lies)!

Well, to make a long story longer, he had some food with him. Not your (yes, you, the reader of this boring drab (lie and a half)) ordinary food. He had his favorite peanut butter and mayonnaise on two-day-old, dried-out hamburger buns sandwich. I lost my last girlfriend (way huge large lie) over 26 and 3/4 of those just this last Christmas. Did I mention it was December 23^rd (lie)? Something else Ernie liked to eat, if that's what you'd call it, was some kind of beef covered with his mothers homemade spaghetti sauce (whopping lie) with crushed potato chips and raw salmon. Now try three, gracious helpings of that and then ride your (you again) favorite roller-coaster. Which, of course, Ernie had to try: another story for another lifetime.

Well, enough with the formalities. Let's get down to the meat of this so-called story.

So, I'm lifting weights (lie). Something like 250 pounds (lie), and Ernie, with his mouth half full of obnoxious food, that before mentioned sandwich, says to me...

No, I won't quote this, because my memory isn't perfect.

We should go to the beach and get some babes.

Now I ponder this statement. What was I going to do: sit home and call a hundred chicks (yep, another extremely obvious lie) and go out with one of them tonight; or go to the beach with Ernie and have no chance to find a potential sleeping mate for the evening? So, I flipped a coin (lie times six).

So, me and Ernie are on the beach, when a great idea hits me: I could bury myself in the sand and be rid of Ernie forever. Well, I'm digging away frantically (lie, lie, lie) when Ernie walks over with this woman, whom I fall in love with immediately (I lie like a rug). Well, me being a gentlemen, I ask her to marry me (1 and 1/3 lie). She says yes, and we ride off into the sunset (the grand-daddy of all lies), leaving Ernie holding a can of beer (lie: it was really a jar of peanut butter).

So, me and my wife are sitting on our balcony (do I have to type it again?) (gee, I guess so) (lie), when Ernie comes over. I looked at my wife with no name (now that's the truth), and she suggested we give Ernie something he's never eaten: chocolate ice-cream, urine (hers) (big lie) (mine) (bigger lie) (Ernie's) (biggest lie), and 40 weight motor oil. To my surprise, 50 weight works better. Well, Ernie eats it and leaves.

I was happy, because I got rid of Ernie, but I lost a good bowl of ice cream.

Well, one last thing (exceedingly huge lie): the title has no real relevance to this horrid story, just the bit about the ice cream, urine and motor oil, but it just sounded cool, and got you (yes, you) to waste your time reading this garbage.

Well, I gotta go find those hand-grenades... (lie)

-fin-

©1997, Merriel Patrick Ebright
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