Yeah, where the heck IS FlightSuit?
(Does Sister Teresa know she’s beating out Pibgorn for followers?)
Hey, mine is marked! “Out To Lunch,” that is.
Froglandians sprout from spores. There will be a new crop in the spring.
So many passed so young in the early days, suffering and toiling to make the dream of Froglandia a reality. From the Lovefeel Lava spews to the far plains of Reconstituted Freeze-Dried comestibles, where the lump-lumps roam free, this land is their land. This place, this land-locked island nation without clear borders, this land is, and will forever be, their home. We, lazy and pampered as we are, the decadent wastrel inheritors of the fruits of their labors, and the jams produced from, we them raise our toast in salute!
I woke up this morning and found myself absent from the obituaries, so I suppose my marker is not to be seen yet.
My, oh my, such a dark comic. Nuns in my part of the country can wear unmarked clothes too, in place of the habit. They can live in the community, outside the old convents.
Here’s to all those discalced sisters and brothers, who helped to lay the foundations of Froglandia’s Interior Castle of Lame.
May the moat turtles silently sing your praises forever!
For the Lame, and even the Quasi-Lame-o’s.
Her ministrations to the disaffected, distracted defectors, from defecation dens, has drawn detractors.
Elmer’s glue gone Mr Magoo.
And, if you go shoeless long enough, you could end up… LAME!
A moment of lame silence for Margueritem, please.
We remark the silent, hulking presence of a man thought to be the groundskeeper. He turns suddenly to face us – VLAD!
BRING BACK THE FROG BLOG!! Please, Teresa?
A fitting end for some people (I’m looking at you Joe-Allen “Don’t Call Me Joe”).
I see, so, that is what happened to A Scented Flower after Vlad had taken the time to Frog Flog him/her, whoever; in an attempt to cut down on Frog Applause readers..
Here lies Oxnate. Overdosed on Viagra. His girlfriend took it very hard.
My friend, Ray-C, told me that I was dead and buried. Hoorah, it’s a miracle, I’ve arisen! (however briefly) Hello to all the Frog Applausians, and Sister Teresa, who is, no, I mean of the Perpetual Lame.
I am convinced that Sister Teresa, having mastered the art of ‘hopping’ lamely, is approaching the Order of St Beryl with a view to taking an advanced course in the sacred art of ‘leaping’: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-TLLEAyyXxs
Am i still here?
To dig the dust enclosed here
Blessed be the man who spares this stone
Cursed be he who moves my bones.
Willy the Snake
Head Stones Will Roll
Did I Make The Grade
Unmarked, not forgotten, tended perpetually by Sister Teresa of the Perpetual Lame, the early inhabitants lie quiet now, stilled by the unpredictable eructations of the Overlords. Even the Frog Blog has been silenced, and the lame shadows lie heavily upon this fabled ground, the home-at-last of Froglandians whether still with us or prodigal….
“Well, I’ve got be shovelling off….”
Each night soil filled, and and soon to host a shrubbery. Only slightly higher (than the others) so you get the two-level effect with a little path running down the middle.
Instead of 10 Hail Marys, I’ve decided to say 10 Hail Moat Turtles.