Toilet Nachos
by Zack Kouns, Pony Payroll Bones, and Bryan Martin
PPB: I know what happens cuz I’m across tha river in another field. Thar are worse things than life. Enjoy. I eat Nachos everyday. My butterfly. Kouns is tooo much into the curry lamb.
BM: I love toilet nachos.
ZK: Time to UNLOAD: I REFUSE to ever get shot with a tranquilizer dart and get changed into a fairy tale animal ever again. People come up to me and show me pictures and then they try to turn me into a coyote because they know I have a coyote mask.
PPB: It all depends on how yu cook with your chicken stock when tha stock market is down.
ZK: I don’t touch that stuff father. Pay for my college degree. I will go to college on your dime, you can bank on that.
BM: Lawdy! I’m currently lodged in a rank job from 1940 to Southern Spain and luckily my degrader still works apparently although the filthy jobbers set up an obsolete bilge near the jump-cave where we could transmit the foam so it’s impossible to know if ya’ll are getting this or just a buncha bad recipe jokes. How many haircuts can one man assume?
ZK: I’ll cut your hair as my new college degree. Assume that I can make a great curry recipe with your hair once and for all and throw some cornbread in on the side just for laughs.
BM: Boys, let’s do this/I got 1/3 of the hammer
PPB: Who has the rustic nail?
ZK: I’ve got tons of primitive art in my living room. Human sacrifice, stuff like that. Can anyone help me hang that up on my wall?
PPB: Stuff it up your pussy
ZK: I’ll put you in peckerneck jail over libel like that Pony Penis Bone. Morgan saw your birth certificate. He is a truther. He lets the world know the real YOU
BM: Boy’s town slice corn to visit Harambe deodorant in jail minus a towel or three. PAGING KEVIN SULLIVAN…I’m a need you boys to go back to collage town and plop up a coupla do-si-dopes for the git down rodeo make up seminar. Beef slog takin off tha ritz. You keep jostlin’ with tha limiter, you’re fixing ter clobber yourself on the reuptake. Kerry Von Erich would gradually include more tassles to his wrestling boots as he neared his suicide. In Wrestlemania VII I can clearly see him working the wobble, accompanied by his coke and ludes and Percodan as Dino Bravo, The World’s Strongest Man, clearly sells his heeldom to the 2nd gen babyface. This is because he lost his foot in 1986 running from the cops from a coke deal gone bad.
PPB: Kounster
BM: Play that bass boy
PPB: Got my hat back. Yu know Mr Fuji died
BM: You called it macaroni, but man now that squared circle’s a
PPB: Well Mr Fuji still dead
BM: Anybody claim that automobile tarp yet? I’m tryna whup myself with a homemade windex recipe and there’s fifteen clothes freaks on Yahoo! Claims I need to interrogate
ZK: There are no female bears in this entire world. The next time someone sneaks up on my when I’m scooping watermelon out of Vinnie’s toilet I’m going to invent female bears. Watching mules snort dried banana leaves and red red red red red clay off of your back and then dancing in the New Year all hobbles and gobbles is something I’ll never forget as long as my name is Sting, popular recording artist.
BM: Told him all about tha jazuzzi mallet.
ZK: I love to bubble and bobble and hymen and hammer and leapin’ Lenny Dykstra’s hair cancer till the cows trip over the violin puddle
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