Phoebe and Her Unicorn by Dana Simpson for June 09, 2015
June 08, 2015
June 10, 2015
Transcript:
Marigold: What did you learn in school today? Phoebe: I forget. Phoebe: It's almost summer! That's all I can think about now. Marigold: So you cannot absorb ANY new information? Phoebe: None. Marigold: I will not recite any unicorn poetry to you now, then. Phoebe: This would actually be the perfect time.
Gotta be better than Vogon poetry: .Oh frettled gruntbuggly, Thy micturations are to me, As plurdled gabbleblotchits, On a lurgid bee, .That mordiously hath blurted out, Its earted jurtles, Into a rancid festering confectious organ squealer .Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles, Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts, And living glupules frart and slipulate, Like jowling meated liverslime.
Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turling dromes, And hooptiously drangle me, With crinkly bindlewurdles, Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon, See if I don’t.