There’s a party going on, and somehow – thanks to the MLS – we all got invited. Call me mellow yellow, but is there a strange skunk-like smell in the room? Be careful reading this – you may get a contact high:
The Brownies Taste Strange, and The Party Is Just Getting Started…
“Dining area w/ baguette” (For buyers who are well-bread, from someone who’s half-baked.)
“Please keep kennel shat” (I have no choice – it’s on my shoe.)
“Frosty glass touches” (Let me guess – a corncob pipe and a button nose?)
“Bonk beds included” (Hmmm…throw in a hot guy, and I’ll buy the dang house!)
“Seller says toke all offers” (Party on, Dude.)
What Are You Rolling?
“Some wok will make this nice” (Mused Jackie Chan while wielding a Chinese cucumber.)
“Sellers left skate – very negotiable” (That’s great…if you’re a one legged skater.)
“Must have bank committed” (People who belong in straight-jackets should not throw stones.)
“Custom backslash” (Back off, Freddy Kreuger!)
C-o-o-ol, The Lava Lamp Is On
“Xtra pot available” (Methinks you’re already one toke over the line, Ozzy.)
“Just need to spliff up” (Said Willie Nelson while face down “on the road again.”)
“Just needs a fix” (Muttered Keith Richards to the chair with whom he was conversing.”
“Soapstoned counters” (Put down the bong and step away from the keyboard, Snoop.)
“Lamestone bath” (Intoned the lame, stoned agent.)
“Nightspots just a hip away” (I believe you mean a liver away.)
And One Last Hit…
“What’s not to lick?” (Uh, if I have to tell you, you shouldn’t be allowed out of the house.)
