It's my birthday. Woot!
When I was a kid I was crazy about Mad Libs and always got tons of them as gifts. Remember those? I decided to make one myself this year. As a present to me, do this Mad Lib won't you? Have fun and be creative. I'll post the one that makes me spit out my coffee.
P.S. Don't be afraid to be filthy. You know how I likes that.
Prunella Jones awoke early on the gloriously 1._(adj)__ morning of June 12th, 2008. It was her birthday and she was very 2.__(adj)__ about it.
3._(verb)_ing out of bed, she wandered over to the mirror and checked herself out.
"Happy birthday, you 4._(adj)__ 5._(noun)__ !" she said aloud. "You certainly don't look 6._(age)_. Although your 7._(body part)__ could use a little 8._(verb)_. Still, all in all not too bad." She then kissed her reflection, made a few sexy faces at herself, and began to plan her day.
This birthday was going to be 9._(adj)_. Unlike last year, when she got super 10._(adj)_ and ended the evening 11._(verb)_ing in a trash can. Ugh, she grimaced at the memory.
Her birthday last year had started off well enough. She met some friends at a 12._(place)_. It was very mellow. They had 13._(verb)_ed and 14._(verb)_ed. And then someone had offered her 15._(noun)_.
"Why not," she thought, and 16._(verb)_ed it.
The 17._(noun)_ made her feel so good that she decided to have more. Then she went to a bar and started 18._(verb)_ing. One 19._(noun)_ quickly became four. She thought she was being witty and fun, but really she was being loud and 20._(adj)_. And the more 21._(noun)_s she had, the louder she got.
Finally, her friends ended up 22._(verb)_ing her to the car as she was quite 23._(adj)_.
She passed out right away, but halfway home she sputtered to conciousness feeling urgently 24._(adj)_.
"Oh 25._(noun)_!" she yelled. "Pull over! I'm going to 26._(verb)_!"
"No, no," her friend cried. "We're on the freeway. Stick your 27._(body part)_ out the window and breathe!"
The window was halfway down when she began to 28._(verb)_ violently all over the place, much to her shame.
"29._(explitive)_ Prunella, you lightweight!" her friend groaned as he surveyed the car with disgust. She started to apologise but no words would come out, only more 30._(noun)_.
Now staring at herself in the mirror, Prunella shuddered at the memory.
"That won't happen again this year," she vowed to herself. "Tonight, I'm only having one 31._(noun)_! I swear!"
12 comments:
Happy Birfday Prunella.
Prunella Jones awoke early on the gloriously 1. reddish morning of June 12th, 2008. It was her birthday and she was very 2.itchy about it.
3.Galloping out of bed, she wandered over to the mirror and checked herself out.
"Happy birthday, you 4.hot 5.Motherfucker !" she said aloud. "You certainly don't look 6.62.2. Although your 7.boobs could use a little 8.massaging. Still, all in all not too bad." She then kissed her reflection, made a few sexy faces at herself, and began to plan her day.
This birthday was going to be 9.freaktastic. Unlike last year, when she got super 10.dry and ended the evening 11.screaming in a trash can. Ugh, she grimaced at the memory.
Her birthday last year had started off well enough. She met some friends at a 12.The Boys Room. It was very mellow. They had 13.danced and 14.cruised. And then someone had offered her 15.balls.
"Why not," she thought, and 16.punched it.
The 17balls made her feel so good that she decided to have more. Then she went to a bar and started 18.swerving. One 19.ball quickly became four. She thought she was being witty and fun, but really she was being loud and 20.crazy. And the more 21balls she had, the louder she got.
Finally, her friends ended up 22.restraining her to the car as she was quite 23.vogue.
She passed out right away, but halfway home she sputtered to conciousness feeling urgently 24.poopy.
"Oh 25.poop" she yelled. "Pull over! I'm going to 26.plotz!"
"No, no," her friend cried. "We're on the freeway. Stick your 27.ass out the window and breathe!"
The window was halfway down when she began to 28.squee'd violently all over the place, much to her shame.
"29.Fucking Prunella, you lightweight!" her friend groaned as he surveyed the car with disgust. She started to apologise but no words would come out, only more 30.balls.
Now staring at herself in the mirror, Prunella shuddered at the memory.
"That won't happen again this year," she vowed to herself. "Tonight, I'm only having one 31.ball! I swear!"
Happy Birthday to my favourite blogger!
XOXOXOXO
I'm too tired for a mad lib. I'm just going to say, "Happy birthday, bitch!"
The sultry morning of June 12th, 2008. It was her birthday and she was very apathetic about it.
Slinking out of bed, she wandered over to the mirror and checked herself out.
"Happy birthday, you beautiful slut !" she said aloud. "You certainly don't look 13. Although your lady parts could use a little stretching out. Still, all in all not too bad." She then kissed her reflection, made a few sexy faces at herself, and began to plan her day.
This birthday was going to be phaboo. Unlike last year, when she got super addied up and ended the evening publicly fornicating in a trash can. Ugh, she grimaced at the memory.
Her birthday last year had started off well enough. She met some friends at a hookah lounge. It was very mellow. They had danced and groped. And then someone had offered her mister underhill's peen, the most addictive substance in the known universe
"Why not," she thought, and loved it.
The pulsating veins made her feel so good that she decided to have more. Then she went to a bar and started snorting. One addie quickly became four. She thought she was being witty and fun, but really she was being loud and embarassing. And the more addies she had, the louder she got.
Finally, her friends ended up pulling her to the car as she was quite fucked.
She passed out right away, but halfway home she sputtered to conciousness feeling urgently horny.
"That won't happen again this year," she vowed to herself. "Tonight, I'm only having one peen! I swear!"
Happy Freaken Birthday!!!! I'll consider doing the MadLib later :) It take some time to be filthy.
That was a ___(adj.)___ post, pru!
Happyb Birthday to a brilliant fucking blogger!
Many happy returns, Prunella! Sorry I'm a couple days late.
One thing I just realized, Miss Gemini... you were celebrating a BD the night OJ Simpson killed two people. I commiserate with you, Hunter S. Thompson committed suicide on mine.
Thanks for the good wishes, everyone. It was a nice barfday. Very mellow.
Excuse my late arrival and please accept my barfday greetings.
Happy Birthday!
Unfortunately, I don't have the ambition to do your mad lib...
Dammit, I'm always late to parties...
Prunella Jones awoke early on the gloriously snowy morning of June 12th, 2008. It was her birthday and she was very irritated about it.
heaving [herself] out of bed, she wandered over to the mirror and checked herself out.
"Happy birthday, you lazy biatch!" she said aloud. "You certainly don't look 76. Although your wrinkles could use a little bacon grease. Still, all in all not too bad." She then kissed her reflection, made a few sexy faces at herself, and began to plan her day.
This birthday was going to be whacked. Unlike last year, when she got super randy and ended the evening humping in a trash can. Ugh, she grimaced at the memory.
Her birthday last year had started off well enough. She met some friends at a cafeteria at the home. It was very mellow. They had sang christmas carols and peed. And then someone had offered her candy.
"Why not," she thought, and gummed it.
The sugar made her feel so good that she decided to have more. Then she went to a bar and started hoisting her ass off the toilet. One Depends quickly became four. She thought she was being witty and fun, but really she was being loud and whiny . And the more sugar she had, the louder she got.
Finally, her friends ended up binding her in a straightjacket on her way to the car as she was quite senile and violent.
She passed out right away, but halfway home she sputtered to conciousness feeling urgently lucid.
"Oh lordy-lou!" she yelled. "Pull over! I'm going to shit!"
"No, no," her friend cried. "We're on the freeway. Stick your ass out the window and breathe!"
The window was halfway down when she began to shit violently all over the place, much to her shame.
"Dammit! Prunella, you lightweight!" her friend groaned as he surveyed the car with disgust. She started to apologise but no words would come out, only more shit.
Now staring at herself in the mirror, Prunella shuddered at the memory.
"That won't happen again this year," she vowed to herself. "Tonight, I'm only having one Werther's Original! I swear!"
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