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July 6, 2005

Volume 3, Issue 6

Today is a certain person's birthday.

The theme for the day is the word bush.

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Another rich lady goes missing. Happens all the time here in Beverly Hills. Usually they show up in a few weeks after their plastic surgery has healed. Or sometimes it’s a spa in Arizona. Or a clinic to detox. Or a lover somewhere.

Whatever. I still need to question the gardener. “Mr. Ruiz, you were seen last night near those bushes swinging a shovel around.”

“Mr. Jones don’t like snakes in his yard.”

“So you were whacking snakes at midnight?”

“He don’t like snakes in his yard.”

This guy is definitely beating around the bush about beating around the bush.

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at July 6, 2005 11:21 AM · Permalink

The bush pilot had selected the perfect spot to land for their picnic in the bush, bringing the plane down in a small clearing. There were no Bushman villages nearby, no deadly bushmaster snakes, just the sound of bushbabies off in the distance. After their picnic, which included Bush’s baked beans, he and Betty Bush relaxed for a quiet drink – Busch beer for her, Old Bushmill’s for him. He slipped his hand inside her pants, his fingers tickling her bush, and they swapped passionate kisses. The foreplay was fast and furious, their lovemaking slow and tender. Afterwards he was bushed.

Posted by: hnumpah at July 6, 2005 11:26 AM · Permalink

It had been two dry seasons since Xixo had returned the thing to the Gods and then come back to the People. Some of the People missed the thing but all agreed that they were better off without it. Life in the Kalahari bush was good.

It should have come as no surprise, especially to Xixo, when another, different thing mysteriously fell from the sky.

The People all agreed that this thing must be sent back as well. So once again, poor Xixo was off, slowly dragging the thing toward the west. The large thing marked U.N. Tsunami Relief Program.

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at July 6, 2005 11:43 AM · Permalink

My name is Vinnie, and man, I am about to score some bush.

My profession: Notorious pussy hound. And I’m loaded for freakin' bear tonight. My weapons: Drakkar, a one hundred percent silk shirt, and the God-given ability to dance.

Look out ladies, because I am a fucking machine. I will dazzle you with my witty banter. Looking like me should be against the law. I will also purchase a beverage for you.

Just enjoy, and be grateful that I have given you the benefit of the Vinnie experience. Believe me, your bush will thank you later. Let’s get romantic.

Posted by: Hubris at July 6, 2005 2:15 PM · Permalink

"Huh-huh-huh, hey Beavis, you said bush"

"Yeah, cool, I said bush. Heheheh, that's pretty cool Butthead."

"Huh-huh-huh. It's like, you were talking, and then you said bush"

"Hehehehe, yeah, B-B-BUUUUSSSHH!"

"That was pretty cool, Beavis"

"BUSH, BUSH, BUSH, BUSH"

"OK Beavis... Settle down, Beavis"

"Here bushy bushy bushy..."

"That's enough Beavis, it's not cool anymore!"

"Bush bush bo bush, banananana bo bush, me my mo mush... BUU-UUSH"

"DAMN IT BEAVIS, SHUT UP!!"

"Are you threatening me?"

"YES BEAVIS, I WILL KICK YOU IN THE NUTS IF YOU DO NOT SHUT THE HELL UP"

"Like this?" (Kicks Butthead in the nuts)

Posted by: Dave Munger at July 6, 2005 2:30 PM · Permalink

His Mom had always been on his case. "You should be more like your brother."

Oh yes, his brother, who had done some bit of bravery and been made a Knight of the Order of Bath.

So here he was, a page, trying to work his way up eventually to knight.

He could only hook on with a local order of knights, one with some pretty weird ideas.

He returned to camp with his burden. "What is that?", his knight asked. "I sent you out for some noble shrubbery, and you return with a puny bush!"

"Ni!" the knight exclaimed.

Posted by: Gahrie at July 6, 2005 8:47 PM · Permalink