In the early days of MySpace, when I hadn't yet realized how juvenile and useless everyone on it was,
I was invited to an all-around party thing in downtown Chicago by a group of classmates - eight of us total. The plan was to paint the town red in a manner befitting timid first-year art students, which is to say that we would go to the beach and the zoo, and maybe have a good deep dish pizza.

Having only a cursory knowledge of one another, it didn't become apparent until later in the evening that one among us was not our kind. In fact, a young man named Rod - clearly five years our superior - had infiltrated our MySpace group, masquerading as a fellow student. He was alright at first, even paid for dinner, but after having a few drinks down his neck he started to get a bit...wild. For our tastes. For his opening act on the beach, he harvested a healthy crop of wild shellfish found clinging to a rock, and promptly ate them raw.

DEAR GOD. This was lake Michigan, and we were right by the city runoff pipe.

"Yea-heah! I fuckin' LOVE MYSPACE!" he exclaimed, mouth dribbling with black slime, "I fuckin' love you guys!"

Stuffing the remains down his trousers, he followed us to the zoo, unaware that we were trying to escape his madness. It might also have been the fact that with a belly full of rum and sewage-laced mollusks, he was now a walking time bomb. A walking time bomb with fifty shells in his pants that jingled as he walked, as if he'd just shat out a small treasury.

Our efforts to avoid him were in vain, as he followed us around the zoo, belching and making up facts about the animals.

"Eighteen thousand children are killed each year by macaques. It's India's leading cause of infant mortality."

This man was a nut. Plain and simple. He wasn't being funny or ironic, he was just insane. We reached the giraffe enclosure and something horrible happened. As he shouted and slapped the poor animals' noses, the foul chemistry within his gut reached critical mass. No, he didn't vomit. Rather, somehow the chemical constituents of rotting seafood and alcohol had reacted in such a way as to produce a perfect giraffe aphrodisiac. A giraphrodisiac.

The giraffes became aroused, and our new friend, cackling louder than the hyenas, reached through the bars to perform a vile deed on the nearest one.

Yes, it was the sea shell nut wanking giraffes.
( Digeridude Lord Wellington's Beef Trapeze, Tue 16 Sep 2008, 17:15, 10 replies)

Outstanding.
And a click for giraphrodisiac.
( warmfuzzies Isn't here, Tue 16 Sep 2008, 17:22, closed)

stop the question
we have the pun of the week.

you even had me fooled upto, and including giraphrodisiac

*salutes*
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Tue 16 Sep 2008, 17:26, closed)

Well played sir!
As the facially-glazedby-999-cocks bukkake target said of the 1000th spluff delivery "I didn't see that coming".


Click!
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Tue 16 Sep 2008, 17:40, closed)

yes, yes
and furthermore yes!
( rofl harris, Tue 16 Sep 2008, 18:03, closed)

Immediately when he reached through the bars to wank a Giraffe I knew this was ONE OF THEMMMM

Awesome story though. If only it was true.
( whenanimalsattackhumans clad in global hypercolour, Tue 16 Sep 2008, 18:19, closed)

Spangin's too good fer the likes o' him.


*gives spong eyes instead*
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 16 Sep 2008, 21:06, closed)

You had me at
"shat out a small treasury"
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Tue 16 Sep 2008, 22:27, closed)

genius
still laughing five minutes later.
(naranjita, Wed 17 Sep 2008, 10:23, closed)

I'm sorry, everyone,
But I just gave a pun a click.
(Obsidian, Wed 17 Sep 2008, 11:33, closed)

There have been some truly awful puns this week.
Truly, truly awful.

Largely pretty much the same as one another.

Very few worth reading, fewer still deserving of a click.






This isn't one of them.

Well done.

*clicks*
( Moey, Wed 17 Sep 2008, 14:50, closed)