Subscribe to all of my blatherings right in your wob brewser!Subscribe to my latest blatherings right in your wob brewser! Pnårp in print! Made from 35% recycled toilet paper! Send Pnårp your garrulous praise… or excretory condemnation! The less you tweet? The more you toot! Dreaming widely about my page! Tweet! Tweet! Twat! Livin’ it up… on a living journal! A whole book full of my faces? A whole book full of my faces?
You’re my favorite visitor!

Pnårp’s docile & perfunctory page

Britney Spears… or Jennifer Love Hewitt?

Rigorously proved for November 26, 2006.

“Pah, pah, pooey. Ga dah, ga dah… gaa-dooey???”

On Tuesday, at four o’clock in the afternoon, twenty minutes past the swinejock dinglebongity, I asked this question blithely as I entwined myself about a pole in front of the Szczerbaczewicz & Smith butcher shop. Mr. Szczerbaczewicz himself answered me, teaching me many new consonant-laden curses in his native language in the process. I called him a “pah pah pooey man” and left in a huff—but Mr. Smith followed me, and stole all my snuff!

“Pah, pah, pooey. Ga dah, ga dah… gaa-dooey???”

I again asked passers-by in front of the butcher shop on Wednesday, Thursday, and part of Friday (only part, because Szczerbaczewicz’s daughter chased me off with a feather duster—made from real horsefeathers!—mounted on an old bellows filled with buckshot). None of the passers-by had any answers that came close to rigorously proving that Britney Spears’ feet are lovelier than Jennifer Love Hewitt’s.

“Pah, pah, pooey. Fa fah, fa fah… pretty footsies???

I asked this question on Saturday instead—and nowhere near Szczerbaczewicz & Smith either: Instead, I parked my inflatable hotdog in front of the asshattery on Wiggensworth Street, and belted out my query via a bullhorn shaped like a Levitican squeaking-shell. The answers I got were concise, and to the point:

Baffle, snaffle—ptooey!!