***BIO*** Space-Cowboy Poet J. D. Nelson is currently exploring career opportunities in the
food service and unskilled manufacturing industries. Visit J. D.'s website for late-breaking developments:
2005 zygoteinmycoffee Ink.
A Blister on the Heel of the Good-Time Foot
by J. D. Nelson
So sing! Donkey Fat built a fire inside (He'd spent
the night before shaving white styrofoam cups into
white styrofoam pine needles -- his egg hadn't hatched
and there weren't enough fireman helmets with flashing
red lights on top!) Poor credit scores again?

YASS TAKE THIS TEST & with that the tutor started his
stopwatch and the students began to feed on one
another. I witnessed everything from a remote location
via hidden camera. The ringing telephone stopped my
heart. Hello?

The voice on the other end asked for Larry Waffles.
House after house of the same breakfast set-up:
Friendly neighbors huffing sealants in blue plastic
Wal*Mart bags as the home-schooled Elroys and Judies
learn how to make things work. T-shirt hordes have
already set up shop -- I searched a half-dozen sites
and decided to go with plain white.

Olaf sent his Beef Team down to fetch the rent from
Donkey Fat. Larry Waffles was the unofficial leader of
the group, the other members being Crowe, Green P. and
Ol' Ezra. Oh, what a motley crew! Take one aging
bowling alley gangster, add a talking bird who can
only say "CAW!", a glow-in-the-dark hot-tub frog and
an old-timer astro-naut and what do you get? The Beef

Donkey Fat sat down with a container of lemon yogurt.
He peeled back the foil lid to expose his morning
delight. He became aroused and stuck his penis into
the cold and creamy mess, scraping himself on the
container's sharp lip.
Dec. 2005