I feel pretty, I feel pretty, I feel pretty and witty and briiiiight and I p-
ooh...are we on camera??? DANG ummm...Well, howdy all you folks out there in TV land...we, ah, we've got a little, we, ah, over to you Wash!! Yes, if you go over to me, I wash. I am the best cleaning solution money can buy, and unfortunately, I'm 398274 years old. *Washy reveals her true age on the next Oprah* But wait, there's more!!! Call in the next fourteen minutes and receive vintage 1567 Washy formula, specially brewed by the Benedictine monks! Here come we - trouping down the lane We are severely reprehended by our elders Hey hey we're the Monks... Yes, that was a selection from Live 1867 -- The Monks only known surviving Live Album. Recorded in full phonographic sound. And if you're wondering what happened to the OTHER ramble you can go to thatbighugeramblethingwedidacouplemonthsbackrememberit yallihopesocosidohahayessplungemesamies.html for all your OLD ramble needs -- ok so just that one, because it was so beautiful! Tee hee mwharharhar. No, really - it was a very beautiful ramble, and we here at Daily Nightly want you to know that we do care, really we do. *little applause sign blinks in background - cut to stock film of women applauding* Now, next up, we have the world's only singing bana- what? He couldn't make it. Alright, skip this, I'm goin' to PARIS! OOOOO! You are? Hey, if you see Grey, please say howdy, eh? You mean the singing banana couldn't make it????????????????????? NO! My whole world is at an end! NO SINGING BANANA! Oh the horror! The PAIN! I just can't take it anymoree! It's all over! When the singing banana gets eaten by a flying nun! Oh, well it's really tragic - you see...the flying man was killed when vacationing in the Bahamas, and a bunch of bananas dropped on his head mysteriously. Very odd. You see, several Banana Cults have been started in the Lesser Antilles over the past few years, and many of them are very irate at their members being picked and eaten - so certain bands of Guerilla Bananas have flung themselves with deadly accuracy at innocent and hungry tourists. Unable to match the utter genius of the great Sogannini's above comments, the Wash fumbles silently for the words to actually possibley even match the sheer intensity of the explanation of the Bannanic cults of the Lesser Antilles. Unfortunately, Washy has already worn out her welcome mat, and must go buy another one, cos it's got this huge hole in the middle of it, from bein stepped on so much. I-i-i-i-i'm not your welcome mat...I-i-i-i-i'm not your welcome mat...when I first metcha girl you didn't have no shoes now you're walkin round like you're front page news...steppin on my porch without a single thought...the welcome mat is ruined, and it's one I just bought OHHH I-i-i-i-i'm not your welco-
(We're sorry. Soggy is on a Monkees parody kick tonight, and really can't help herself - we know, we know, but what's to be done? We can't find an asylum anywhere - they're all full.) [ On a lighter note, well we can't read it -- it's burnt up and all. Washy has found a nice padded room to stay in, and has taken to painting little pictures of people in little padded rooms all over the little padded room she's staying where she paints little pictures of people in little padded rooms who also have little pictures of little men in little padded rooms painted all over their padded walls and the people in those pics do too! WOW!] And now..... It's-
MONKEE PYTHON'S FLYING CIRRRCUSSSSSSSS!!!
(Ohhhhhh NO you don't. No more of this Monkee nonsense. We've already discussed this, Soggy, in the ramble on your own page. Now you're being silly and childish, and honestly, I can't understand why you do these things - there's plenty of kibble in your bowl. And chew carefully. How are you going to become president if you don't chew carefully?)
Never mind the furthermore, the plea is self defense...never mind the furthermore, the plea is self defense...never mind the furthermore, the plea is self defense...ne- OOWUAGGHHH!! HEEEYYYYYY PUT ME DOWN!! Now, Now, Voice of Soggy's Subconscience. You can't expect Sogg to put all of her eggs in one basket. They may not all fit, and some may crack and break and get yoke all over the place, and man that is just the messiest thing you can attempt to carry around a basket full of yoke. You have to give her a chance. The Monkees aren't doing her any harm -- in fact they provide her with a melodious journey into the world of rock and roll, long hair, good tv, and a bunch of other stuff which cannot be explained to a mere voice of Subconscience. (Yeah, man, but she's SpontCom, leader of the Egg Brigade - getting all the eggs in one basket is her JOB. And I can't get her to pay any attention to me! I need love, and understanding! My mother rejected me - my sister resented me - and now, this operation!!! OOH NOOOO MONKEES ARE INVADING ME TOO!! Oohhh, I can't let this happen, it's just not MICKY right I can't MICKY stop it's like PS disease MICKYMICKYMICKYMICKY ) This operation! Oh, I didn't know anyone still played that game. *SMACK* Oh, the operation. I like operations. They give you a sense of outlook, don't they? Let's watch the operation as it is performed. The operation is one part co-operation and two parts gin and tonic. No, no! I don't want the operation! Please, no more operations! Operator! Operator! Get me the National Eggs In One Basket For a Basic Philosophy Organisation Coop of Zakdtaoanoiosanna! Op! Yes, I'm an Op! Aren't you an Op!? You're not! Well, here, have an @ ! /me hands Micky a +...after all, he's the voice. *rimshot* (Hey, enough with the IRC jokes!!) /me whacks Sog`sSubconscious with a trout (Now, look, if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't- OOF!) /me stuffs her subconscious in a bag and flings it out the window Now now, Voices of the Subconciousness are of weirdness and much a--zoom. A zopickyworpepramamma. AOodhsddlsslsllssslsllaapap! ZZZZZZOAKALLAL! -- that was just an example of how they can take over at any moweoiwf.slpapa APpA>:..........ISIAOoaoooaoKHDhwhudhs.a;.. ZAP POW! See, there it went again.....Yes, I strongly believe thatew;f;ss;ll..s...sd.jwdwidioiiiielisdjslsllll d POPPAZJDOSI SOos Pro-Dosi! WouS.a. Oui! K'SPROING glort t'pau needleedleedle zheewoooOOOOOOP- Fffrrrrrrnnnnnngggg.
Not bad for a long-haired weirdo, huh Mr. & Mrs. America?
(You misquoted that.) I did not. (Yes you did.) How would you know? (I, uh...I...) CLOSET MONKEES FAN!
/me dances around in a circle, Sog`sSubconscious likes the Monnn-kees, Sogs`sSubconscious likes the Monnn-kees, Sog-
(OH, KNOCK IT OFF!!) Knock it off. Let's examine that phrase, shall we? Knock -- means to rap apon something creating a noise. It -- represents a thing, object, person, or place aforementioned in a previous notion. Off -- To no longer exist, or to not be on. Let us see, what does It represent. Does it represent Long Haired Weirdo? How about K'Sproing glort t'pau needleedleedle zheewoooOOOOOP--Fffrrrrrnnnnngggg or a similar phrase? Or is it some mysterious secret never to be revealed to the general public. The key to unlock the dark hidden secrets of Soggy's past, or possibley that lunch box you lost the key to back when you were younger? Should the lunchbox theory be true, it must be known that, there is a moldy boloney sandwich and mildewing chocolate milk in a now fungus covered thermos inside. But then, we lied. You didn't really have to know that. But I just BOUGHT my lunchbox!!! And you know...I do have many secrets of my younger days...for as we know, I am really 49. DRAT YOU, PETE TOWNSHEND. Stupid guitar-smashing git. Eh well...I'M BACK! Ooh, what's that? - Special report from - er, to whom am I speaking? - Whaddaya mean that's for you to know, and me to find out?! Look, you sure better- *click...beeeeeeeeeeeeeep* Ahhh, well. /me tosses the phone out the window. This just in - special report! The Guerilla Bananas strike again! A man wandering through the island of Martinique claims to have just been marauded by a mob of young unripe bananas. He is not too badly wounded, but barely escaped with his life. Film at eleven. Let it be known to Pete Townshend that there is no actual hatred against him, or any other members of the Who. It is merely the story of a young girl's accidental meeting with a guitar back oh, 32 years ago. A sad tale indeed. Along the streets of the wild thorpian towns came along a young Sog of zaorkap breeding. Yes this young sog was such a breed indeed, and rode along on a fine steed, to fufill her lifelong deed of arriving at Woodstock to see the Who, not really aware of the concert at Leeds -- when it would be, or where it was. So then came the planting of the seed, and washy cried SHUT UP YOU STORY TELLING TWIT! *pouty lip* Okay, one more sentence. The end is near, oh yes it is, the end is near, and so i fear that i must just go have to ride a steer along the side of a Leer (jet) wearing the sneer of aaaaaaaaaaaaa -------*SMACK* Well, no see, I was actually there because I was a bit of a ditz, and I thought it was Monterey Pop, which was attended by Peter & Micky...but I wound up at Woodstock by total accident, and met my untimely demise before ever seeing a Monkee or a Beatle. *insert sad violin music* Oooh wait my song is playin...tralala EEHEE...Oh, and Pete Townshend...should you ever run across this site - keep your guitar away from the monitor. You never know... Yeesh, stupid subconcious bleedin writers -- y'know they take all the artistic liscence! They embellish stuff beyond your wildest dreams and then they just go and complain about everything. Stupid subconcious -------------------------------------- Ahem. You are now speaking to the mind of Washy. The mind of washy would like to bring you this message from Wappy, Washy's alter-alter-eggo. Go Here Thankye. --------- SPLUNGE! Okay, Washy is back. I wonder what that was all about. I'll never know. Oohhhh never hit your mother with a shovel...it leaves a dull impression on her mind...er. What are you kidding me, psycho-del-o...and I think that little cups of ice cream have formed their own Guerilla Union. Every time I open the freezer, some strawberry cheesecake ice cream attacks me. Sog-gy-do-lenz-sog-gy-do-lenz-sog-gy-do-lenz
(What in the name of the flaming fire of Angnor is THAT?)
It's my mantra. Sog-gy-do-lenz-sog-gy-do-lenz sog-gy-do-NUTS! Soggy donuts! --- Yes, my new mantra has become Soggy Donuts. It is the mantra that not only reminds you of a friend, but also fufills your hunger with verbal empty calories! Try it today! OOOHHHHH!!!! Do-lenz-do-nuts-do-lenz-do-nuts-do-lenz-do-nuts-do-lenz-do-nuts
(Soggy...sog...uh, sog?...SOGGY!!!! OH SOGGY!!! Um...man, how to get her attention...aaahhh. Soggy? This is Micky speaking.) MICKY??!! REALLY? (Yes, it's me, The Voice.) Ohhh...uh...ah...what are you doing in my head? (Um...) Do you think you'll be tangible anytime soon? (Uhh, that's not likely - why don't you go get some sleep?) Sleep?! But...but...I wanna talk! (Ummm, I gotta go, Sog, real sorry, catch you around!) But...but...AAUUUGHHHHH HE WAS IN MY HEAD!!!!!!! I'LL NEVER WASH MY BRAIN AGAIN!!! Really? Well, if so would that make you Rubber Soul again? Y'know, your song is on. OOOOOONLY SHADES OF GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAY. PETERPETERPETERPETERPETERPETERPETERPETER! [Excuse me. Washy is nuts. It is nearly 3 am and washy would just like to say that she has nothing to do with this rather off weird statement about her in Brackets. Now, washy hasn't been in Brackets for very long. Washy just started subscribing to Brackets a few hours ago. Yes Brackets is the number one non-existant newsletter in the world, which washy was interviewed for. This is what washy had to say --- kersplungieboodlewackernackiezappers--oh the long! Now, Wappy was much more talkative, and provided us with a rather long rambellic number called Melvak 8k and How to Have A Doggue if you Digs. It can be purchased if you really want it, but as for now just subscribe to Brackets! Yes you heard right! Brackets! The newsletter that cares! ]
Philosophies
Weird Philosophies and Ponderings Ramblings and Stories
The World's Longest Ramble Dog Lackeys
Save the Running Dog Lackeys Campaign Soggy's Mind
Ze BLACK BOX scene from Head (ze Monkee movie) We don't know, really, we don't...
How To Make A Dumb Instruction Manual Miss Cellany
How To Tick People Off
Sign Ye Bookie/Read Ye Bookie
Why Don't These Questions Make More SENSE?
Peter Tork's Words Of Wisdom*
The Weird Brain Theory
SWIRL:Brain Theory 2
Sogg's Theory on the End of the World
Theory on the world itself..a carpet?
The start of our peace 'campaign'...will be updated
Soggy thoughts
The Electrical Appliance Conspiracy
Chain Letters, advertisements, and other annoying bits of email (Part One)
(Well, Soggy's longest anyway.)
We haven't got a title yet
Rootbyria: God of Soda
Soggy shares her wisdom teeth on dreams of fat a gooey marshmellows floating in a sea of sour cream
Comments of the Spogg and Dosh
CACAFEST
Order Of The Running Dog Lackeys
Flight of the Poppy Roadrunners
#cacafriends, doglackey, etc
The Offical Order of the RUnning Dog Lackey's homepage
P•E•A•C•E
On Various Wastes of Time (almost)
Words, in general
Webstarr's Dictionary (so far anyways)
A Mad Libby
Blinky
Wakky Links
(If yer as nutty as us, you might enjoy them)
Wakkoholics Annonymous
View the other G-book | Sign the other G-book!
