Prints of this shot available hee-yah.
Prints of this shot available hee-yah.
Now me and the boys were in Clancy’s Saloon, and hoistin’ our mugs in a toast,
When Old Man McGee bursts in through the door, lookin’ as pale as a ghost.
"I pity you, son," he stammered at last. "I reckon you best get yourself hid."
"There’s a feller in town who’s a lookin’ for you, by the name of the Prickly Kid."
My skin went clammy, my hands took to shakin’, the beer went sour in my mouth,
For there weren’t a more fearsome critter alive, from the North clean to the South.
They say when he hunts you, there’s nowhere to run, and you might as well number your days,
Because no man alive’s been known to survive the Kid’s cold, unblinking gaze.
Then the customers scattered, the piano stopped playin’, and slowly I turned around,
At the end of the bar stood the Prickly Kid, never making a move nor sound.
He fixed me right there with a steely stare, and "hewwo" was all he said.
And I took one look in those beady cute eyes, and I plumb keeled over dead.
Now, the moral of my story’s a warning to you, and I’m sure Sarah R. would agree,
When your time is over, there’s naught you can do, and there’s no sense in trying to flee.
So stay right here and finish your beer, for you won’t be escaping the joint.
When the Prickly Kid comes a-lookin’ for you, you’re definitely getting the point.
End #1: (Moist nosicle, beady eye, miniscule pawsitude)
End #2: (Bowl cut, tail nubule, splayed haunch action.)
G4, nice hedge cave (above).
It was half past midnight when I rolled up to the seediest dive on the wharf. The ocean air sent a prickly feeling up my back—the kind you get when danger lurks behind every door.
Inside, I grilled a barfly for information, but she just turned her back and gave me the cold shoulder. That dame was no lady—and it bugged me.
Suddenly, I heard a noise in the back room. I burst through the door just in time to put the bite on some yellow coward trying to escape.
For the next chapter in the thrilling adventures of Benson Hedges, Private Eye, visit sender-inner Heather’s Flickr photoset!
Let’s lift up the box top and see how the freshly-borned hedgehoglets are doing!
Hmm. Maybe we should check back when they have some quillage.
I think they’re doing fine. Mom sitting on hogs, check.Warm comfortabuhls home, check.
Beady eyes, check.
Baby Hedge’tocks, check!
Trisha K., how about some mini croquet?
Can’t you just see a perfect squiggle of mustard on his head?
I know you can.
Laura B., nice deli pic. Please include a large peekle.
Get ready ’cause we’re going TUBING, People. [Ready stance]
Race you to the COUCH GO!
Thistle and Nicole—Looks like your Friday night is booked solid.
This is the story of the dog and the, oh, I dunno, how about a hedgehog? Sure, why not? Okay, so the dog, who was a prideful, covetous thing, was carrying his bone when he came across the crafty hedgehog. "My bone is so much bigger and juicier than yours," boasted the hedgehog. "Then I will take it from you," said the dog.
And so the dog chased away the hedgehog and took his bone. But that’s just what the wily hedgehog wanted him to do, for he knew that the dog’s bone was much bigger. Quick as a wink, he grabbed the dog’s bone, but it was too heavy and he couldn’t lift it.
"You tricked me!" said the dog. "Just for that, I’m taking BOTH bones!" But try as he might, the dog could not fit both bones into his mouth. So he just took his original bone and went away.
Moral of the story: Beats me. I’ll be at the pub.
Sometimes the magic happens, Letty F., and sometimes it don’t.
I don’t know what’s more redonk—the voices of these ladies watching "Shming" the hedgehog float around in the tub, or Shming himself, who’s acting like he’s on friggin’ Waikiki beach after three Mai Tais.
I watched ALL six minutes AND thirty seconds of this buoyant heaven, Sender-Inner Allison M.!
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