Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Archrival of Nomad's Diary: Moon 72

I have eaten the last of Nomad. I reflect, as the baking moonlight reflects on the oasis of water where I reside, on the chase and capture of Nomad. My Camel, Odysseus, had nearly exhausted his supply of sweet hump water, and was also a bit hungry. Plodding through the Shitome desert, where the Whatchegonodo tribe normally resided, I heard quite a disturbance. Flug flug flug sckrulump. Flug flug flug plat. Flug flug flug blop. It was the ever present sound of idiot Nomad building his house out of what he thought was mud, thus calling it adobe. What he didn't know is that the mud was actually horse dung from all of the horses of the Whatchegonodo tribe, who resided in the area, or the Whatches as I call them. Sidebar, little known fact is that the Whatches tribe is where the english word of hatchet comes from. You might think it would be watches that originates from it, but you'd be wrong. Anyway, back to my story of mystery and intrigue. There I was on my camel, Halibutbreath, watching Nomad fling horse dung at a ninety degree angle to form walls and a roof for his home. I watched for many moons...must've been 1. Once he moved in, I followed my own advice, which is to burn anything that moves, and I set afire the dung spackled smakle shakle of Nomad. The methane gases, which could be smelled all the way to Nebelnebelhartmus (which is the capitol of Naberlicher...sidebar, you might think that Bernbabibern would be the capitol, but you'd be wrong), set ablaze quite nicely. Nomad was flushed quite delightfully from his newly built equine smilt quilt. My sidekick, Sagybals, hog tied him with a newly formed twine of weed and we took him back to the castle of Greyskull, where my acquaintance resided. Thus, the demise of my archrival, Nomad.


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