June, July or Maybe August 21st - 28th: Cracking Moore's Code

Part II:

There we were peacefully riding the train to peaceland. Ahhhhh, it was so f@#King peaceful. We made a stop in Jerry Junction and a plethora of dead yet greatful old twats hoped on - literally, the largest bearded vaginas I had ever seen.

It was so peaceful that it was too peaceful. Luckily, a pro's astute was getting busy with her f@#k the police campaign in the seat next to us.

"Nice Seacaucus," she said. I told her thanks.

"Wow, these train-types are friendly," I thought.

Bubba the Crusher of Donuts suddenly called my attention by crushing some donuts in donut code by morissey - a designer version of the original morse codex. Long - short - long - long - short - hole - the donuts were dominated.....

"Listen to the brakes - do you hear that?" Bubba said in crushed donut-code.

I did hear it. It was Moore's Code!!!!!!

Uh-oh. We were in trouble. Gaseous stench began to fill the boxcar chamber. I had to act fast - before we were taken over by the bad scent - unlike my wife's farts which smell like freshly baked cherry cheesecake.....good enough to eat. It is kind of like scented chapstick though...smells great, but tastes like s#$T. Like a chemical reaction.....I jumped into my napkin suit.

"Whoa dude! Its Napkin face....." the tie-dye hair snatch face man said as the gaseous rex overtook him.

"Save us...." said another, dirtier than the other.

"Bubba, crusher of donuts - lets crack this code for good (no pun in ten did)," I said in a heroic yelp. Moore didnt realize that my napkin face and suit blocked all stench - her plan was foiled like aluminum.

I would get into details but:

1. I am lazy.
2. Read a newspaper - I am sure it is in there. It was like total headline worthly.

Time passed like gas and we finally arrived in peaceland. I was very surprised by what I saw. It appeared that peaceland had a Greenland-Iceland complex and everyone was practically dead. I asked a 3-eyed donut where Elvis was but Bubba crushed it before it had a chance to answer.

"Thats Graceland you wanker," she said in donut code. I felt like a donut hole after that. Luckily, Bubba the crusher of Donuts ran out of donuts on the ride home - stifling our communications.

I tried to give my wife the Jailhouse Rock later that evening, but she closed down that station, so I ended up playing Love me Tedner.