Thursday, August 16, 2007

What I Did In Church On Sunday

People are always asking me why I'm afraid of midgets. Well, here's the definitive answer, in storybook form. It's a definite departure from my norm. I offer this flotsam up in the wake of my last post's political incorrectness:

Man, I don't know what's wrong with me. The last thing I need is to be haunted by a midget ghost. I hope you enjoyed this.


Scaredy Smurf said...

In answer to the questions I'll probably be getting:

a) His name was Vaughn, but I decided to call him "Von" for short. Get it? Also, I don't want my blog coming up if his parents google "Vaughn the Evil Midget," you know? Disrespectful, that.

b) Yeah, I hate dances, but I had no social life when I was a kid, so I always went. How else would I know how much I hate them?

c) The man driving the truck was named Tom Sawyer, and he was in our stake, as was Vaughn. Awkward, right?

d) Von did in fact call everyone else midget. I don't know why.

e) He was in that trash can for at least two periods of middle school, but he was a little monster before that, as well.

Anything else?

Mustard said...

I can testify that this is a true story. Good retelling, Sicko Smurf!

Vero Awesome said...

Seriously, I think the funniest truth here is that, the more sick and convoluted your stories are, the more likely I am to believe them.

Stephalumpagus said...

This story almost was enough to make me afraid of midgets too.

Squirt said...

Good work amigo.

Darrin said...

AWESOME! And I really like the artwork - so churchesque. Truth is scarier than fiction. (My world verification for leaving this comment is "ofgugk." Is that racist?)

Janell said...

I'm curious. Do you always carry a pad of pictionary paper with you?

erin said...

I thought it was funny. :)