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Separated At Birth?

The late Sir Nigel Hawthorne…and the very alive H. Ross Perot?

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Folkloric Leprechaun.

He’d once been blessed with the “gift of the gab,” until one night the little bastard stole Lucky Charms from the wrong banshee and found himself with his mouth ripped off his head for-freakin’-EVER.

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The Alabama Leprechaun.

Could be a crackheaaaad who got into some wrong stuff, y’all.

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Nothing Does It Like 7-Up.

That’s right, y’all. Get them kids hooked on the sugar water out of a glass bottle early. He ain’t got no teeth yet, anyway.

Posted by celiapleete in rippingyarns | Comments

Sledding Towards Death.

We told Loretta that sledding down the Matterhorn in that rickety old thing that Marty Kelpman made in shop class was a bad f•••ing idea (especially because he only got a C- on it), but the stupid bitch wouldn’t listen. We think the overdose of Adderol had something to do with it.

The memorial service was lovely.