Twice upon a slice of selectively carried out ticks, there was a Mahoo.
Originating in a land comprised largely of empty, sun damaged coke cans, two like-minded first cousins decided to consummate their love. Expressively validating their personal tickets in each other’s fleshy buses (ie. they doinked), the cousins later indulged in a ceremonial roasting of a capsicum and an elaborate game of checkers.
54 months later, the fruit of the cousin’s love was birthed out during a violent sneeze – whereupon the baby Mahoo was promptly collected, wrapped in a partially soiled tissue, and buried in the very back pocket of Sirius Black's least favorite pair of sensible dress shorts.
The Mahoo remained in the pocket for 3 years.
Whilst there he wrote several episodes of Lost (yet to be aired), began an impressive collection of short poems about pocket crumbs:
Potential crisp bits
O how I feel you
Under
My incesty trotter
Precious dusty bits
Please act as the dotter
To my I’s and elipses… (And so on and so forth)
O how I feel you
Under
My incesty trotter
Precious dusty bits
Please act as the dotter
To my I’s and elipses… (And so on and so forth)
Finally he revised a final draft of a written idea regarding his desire for a swift exeunt from his pockety abode...and in the style of 'The Secret', it miraculously happened!
Suddenly he had been shifted to what at first appeared to be a black sheep's merkin...but what was soon revealed to be Rahool's hair hat.
Together they now seek to blog, have painty times, and illustrate pictures of pornographic mandarines, brontosaurus enthusiasts, and stray shepherds around the country.
What follows is a document of their stories. Perky times.
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