I stayed on the sofa, frightened by the look in Richard’s zombie-like (plural noun) sphincters. I had never seen him so (adjective) fudgy before.
He (verb, past-tense) square-danced over to the (noun) geezer and dialed the 1-800 number we’d just heard on the (noun) throw rug.
A (noun) Sara Lee Pound Cake must have answered because I heard Richard say in a (adjective) moist voice, “I must have the Citrus Express!”
“It will be here in (number) 12 to (larger number) 136 weeks.” he said. I had always found this particular As Seen on TV commercial hilarious. I mean, wouldn’t you think that after getting squirted in the (body part) nostril over and over the woman would stop trying to (verb) wave her grapefruit with a (adjective) matchy-matchy spoon?
I realize the advertisers are trying to make a (noun) yacht, but come on!
When The Citrus Express arrived I didn’t dare (verb) blow dry the package because I didn’t want to deny Richard the (noun) adversity. After all, he had already purchased (number) 6,000 pounds of grapefruit. I didn’t want to (verb) moisturize on his (noun) incarceration.
I admit I was just a bit (adjective) bulbous about the purchase but, by the same (noun) step ladder, I didn’t want grapefruit juice (verb) snowblowing into my eye, either.
The As Seen on TV ads were kind of (adjective) pretty and since I had two young (plural noun) hippies, I was always looking for (plural noun) tutus to make life easier. After all, those two (plural noun) dingleberries spent a lot of time hanging off of me.
One of the TV (plural noun) outhouses promised me perfect hamburgers, while another assured me (adjective) itchy (pulral noun) toads, and, really, who wouldn’t want that? Plus, I was becoming convinced that I needed a storage unit made of (noun) shawarma that fit (adverb) slowly under my bed.
Richard ripped open the (noun) gasket containing the Citrus Express, and then carefully (verb, past tense) bounced several grapefruit in the kitchen (noun) garbanzo bean.
“Well, (exclamation) Betcha by golly wow,” I said to Richard. “It works! And you didn’t get a drop of grapefruit juice in your (body part) armpit!” He kept cutting up the (plrual noun) manequins into perfect little (plural noun) cell phones, and we all just sat there (verb, past-tense) discombobulated by the magic. The kids actually tried the grapefruit and (verb, past tense) went sky-diving because they liked it so much.
I was thrilled that, because of The Citrus Express, my family would now eat more (plural noun) dinosaur toes, and would finally have an (adjective) abnormal diet! Plus, it was an (noun) oyster cracker to clean because it was dishwasher (adjective) purple. .
Then came the commercial for Boca Towel Clips! A woman was trying to (verb) ruffle her towel so she could enjoy a day at the beach, but it just kept (verb) twitching down her (noun) crayon.
Enter a man on a white (animal) peacock, with the answer to all her (plural noun) bowling balls; Boca Towel Clips! She smiled at the very (adjective) short man. He smiled back and his teeth actually (verb, past tense) shuffled.
She thanked the handsome (noun) toaster and said, “I’m so happy that my towel won’t (verb) flatulate in my face ever again!”
I thought it was the most (adjective) dysfunctional ad yet, until we all went outside on a (adjective) silly day, and couldn’t keep our towels from sliding down our (plural noun) Barbie dolls. Sometimes the wind would even (verb) soil them off our chairs completely. “Well, ” I said, “I guess we do need those towel (plural noun) tonsils after all.” So, I went to (location) Tiffany and bought a few sets. Much to my (noun) aquarium, they really did work.
The day I found Zoomies at the store, in the As Seen on TV (plural nouns) sheep aisle, I was absolutely (adjective) spasmodic! According to the package, they can be worn just like regular (plural noun) motorcycles! Zoomies are like binoculars that you wear, leaving your (plural noun) paper shredders free so you can birdwatch while doing your (plural noun) taxes!
Now that I wear hearing aids, nothing makes me act like a (noun) Duck-billed Platypus more than being able to hear, but not (verb) hit a woodpecker. Zoomies are going to change my entire (noun) bathtub!
So far, it has been a (adjective) smelly spring, so the dogs and I haven’t been able to spend much time outdoors. But, usually those (plural noun) zebras and I spend the whole day out in the (place) Alcatraz. I bring out my computer and they love to (verb) roller-skate after (plural noun) snails, or nap under the shade of a (noun) Rabbi.
I know I look (adjective) respledent in them, but I don’t care. If it ever gets to be (number) 4 degrees, again, we’ll have one (adjective) hilarious summer.
Note: I don’t want to get (adjective) smooshed by using the real name of a word game that drives me Mad, in a good way, so I just made up my own version of the (noun) Jonathan Towes.
It took (number) 800,000 hours to (verb) potty-train this post because I had to make up my own template. So, as (verb) mystifying as this experience has been, I doubt I’ll be writing any more of these (plural noun) taco shells in the near (noun) uvula.
One of my favorite games is Kerplunk.
You’re probably thinking I’ve lost my marbles because I’m talking about Kerplunk in a story titled “The Mad Libs Project.” That would be a possibility, but I still have three marbles left, so just go with it. I promise, it will eventually make a little bit of sense.
For as long as I can remember, Kerplunk created hours of mindless suspense, and a heck of a good time for me. Some people like to climb mountains, or take on the Class IV rapids of Namangosa Gorge in Ecuador.
Not I. I’m content with the excitement Kerplunk provides as I try to remove a plastic stick from a plastic canister hoping not to disturb any of the plastic marbles balancing precariously inside.
I like doing research, especially about things I’m writing and actually care about, but to be honest, I wasn’t very intrigued about the origins of Kerplunk. But, the few remaining marbles in my head demanded I do due diligence, and I said, “Fine.” So here it is:
According to http://wwwbestkidstoysever.com/vintage-toys-2/kerplunk-game-a-1970s-game-still-alive, “Interestingly the name KerPlunk is onomatopoeic and based on the sound made by the marbles when a straw is removed and they fall to the bottom.”
I did not find this very interesting because a wild hunch told me that’s how the game got its name, and if you didn’t surmise the same thing, you probably have only two marbles.
But while I was less than impressed by the way in which it received its name, I do think Kerplunk inspired a creative “plunk” heard around the world.
Another one of my favorite games is Mad Libs. What an ingenious idea. Even with the limited vocabulary I possessed as a child, I’d always end up falling to the floor, giggling, because the stories turned out so silly.
Now I love to play Mad Libs even more because I know about ten more words than I did back then.
Since I was curious about the origin of Mad Libs, I went online and found a fascinating article written by one of its creators, Leonard Stern. For some reason, my computer won’t let me publish a direct link to www.madlibs.com/history, so if you really want to know about it, just Google, “mad-libs history” and the article should just pop up.
I think I like to play Mad Libs because it gives me the opportunity to use words and numbers, I wouldn’t in everyday conversations, such as, “Nostril, Dodo bird, sphincter,” and “7,453.”
Why am I telling you about my favorite games? Well, I’m glad you asked. We can’t play virtual Kerplunk, although I have asked Howard*, Leonard*, Raj*, and Sheldon* to work on it.
But, I propose a hypothesis of a paradigm that would allow us to collectively play virtual Mad Libs.
Excuse me. Amy* just fainted.
So, I have written a Mad Libs script, leaving out nouns, verbs, adverbs, adjectives, names of people in the room, and a few numbers.
Of course I can’t tell you the theme of the story, or where it takes place, because then it will just end up nice and easy. But there’s just one thing.
You see we never, ever do anything nice and easy. We always do it nice and funny. So, we’re going to start thinking about the beginning of this story and do it funny, and then, we’re gonna do the finish hilarious. This is the way we do Mad Libs. (Thank you Ike & Tina Turner for allowing me to borrow and, make slight adjustments to, your introduction to “Proud Mary.”)
Please e mail your (family-friendly) contributions to email@example.com by Friday, March 13th. Submit by e mail only, please.
I can’t wait to see what we come up with together! I’m hoping it will be so much fun that we’ll do it again, hence the title, The Mad Libs Project, Part I.
*Characters from The Big Bang Theory
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