I’m your favorite website!Feed me! Feeeed meeee!!Email Pnårp!Tweet! Tweet! Twat!Livin’ it up… on a living journal!Corrosion!? But websites don’t corrode!A whole book full of my face!Oogle boogle google!Where gravity itself gets its blog avatar!Linked in… to what? A pair of moose antlers?Red dits? Red edits? Read its…!?
You’re my favorite visitor!

Pnårp’s docile & perfunctory page

I thought this was better!?

Harvested before May 28, 2006.

The Schmongeling Gnomes came back, in all their Westphalian glory. Thousands of Gnomus schmongelendi westphalici announced their presence in their usual manner: Wheedling and needling, whirring and stirring, trumpeting the Westphalian anthem on a trombone carved from a hippopotamus’ hoof, and calling to the insect god Iggy Kalamazoo-Kintaki-Meeps. They swung from the rafters with glee, danced on the rooftop with relish, and dangled from the lampshades without a care in the world (save their gnomely duties).

The oatmeal cookies left in a huff. They all looked pretty indignant, upset that I would prefer half a billion gnomes to their company of six. Davie (that was the big one, with raisins) called me an “ungrateful S.O.B.” before he rolled himself out of my house. Louie and Stewie called me a plim-fisted orangutan with an ox for a mother. The other three—Bobbie, Laurie and Corrie—just left silently, their heads hung in shame. I sat down and cried.

Then I saw the gnomes, everywhere dancing, everywhere prancing, singing and clinging to things, so I stood up and screamed. I thought this was better!? Gnomes!?! G. schmongelendi!?!? Alyssa Milano’s supple young feet, her slender toes, yes—those are better (much better!), but… gnomes!?!?!? What was I thinking!?!?

Oh, my Lord, here they come…

The lawn gnomes come, the lawn gnomes dance;

The lawn gnomes sing and the lawn gnomes prance!

The lawn gnomes come, the lawn gnomes dance;

The lawn gnomes sing and the lawn gnomes prance!

The lawn gnomes come, the lawn gnomes dance;

The lawn gnomes sing and the lawn gnomes prance…