Let’s join our commentator’s high atop the world’s largest wiener where they have a bird’s eye view of the processions.
They’re both stars in their own right. Please welcome Pippa Middleton’s Ass and the reanimated corpse of Ed McMahon.
Prrrrrrrp! Thank you everyone. What an exciting day, isn’t it Ed?
Hey-oh! Yes! Rrrrrrrr.
Oh my! Here comes the first float. It appears to be a motorcar in the shape of one of your American hot dogs.
And what is that creature waving out the top of it? Is that a bear?
Yes but not just any bear. That’s the bear that beat hot dog eating champion Kobayashi in one of Fox television’s more artistic and educational endeavors Man vs. Beast. Do we have a clip? Unnnnnhrrrrr. Yes!
We’re back and just in time as the next float is rounding the bend.
Yes! The Creepshow welcomes the ancestors of your native England’s criminally minded outcasts, the Australians.
Oh my. They do look fearsome. And who is that large man in the hockey mask flexing? He looks like that Jason chap that enjoys murdering your sexually promiscuous teenagers.
That Pippa’s Ass is the Lord Humungous, Prime Minister of Australia. Later he will be throwing out jam jars of gasoline to the crowd, the only form of currency in the land down under. But never mind that because right behind him we’re about to be treated to a great display of technical ability by the Ball Pitt Pee Mopers Union 106.
Watch as they mop up gallon after gallon of toddler pee in unison, sometimes holding their breath for up to 7 minutes. A skill they’ve perfected after many years service in the children’s play areas of McDonald’s, Chuck E. Cheese and IKEA.
I salute you brave gents. Prrrriiiipp!
Now we’re in for a real treat. It’s the Art Student Hipster Pirate ship.
They’re flying Van Gogh’s Smoking Skull in place of the Jolly Roger.
And they’re decked out in an array of billowing scarves, one lensed Wayfarers and skinny pantaloons the likes of which Urban Outfitters shall never see.
Watch as the swarthy hipsters swill Pabst Blue Ribbon straight from the can and force real artists to walk the plank with light saber iPhone Apps.
Oh yes. We have those in England too. They attempted to scuttle my new Uncle’s Rolls Royce. But twitching putrid Ed? Won’t those real artists do themselves an injury belly flopping off the float like that?
I’m being told no, do to them all wearing beer bellies full of liquid dog shit.
A reminder for the first few rows on the parade route, you will get wet.
Ho, ho! It reminds me of that bad quail’s egg filled roll I had at the Buckingham Palace Weatherspoon’s. But let’s hope all that liquid shit doesn’t spoil the high kicks of our next group. Because they’re none other than the world famous Hobo Rockettes!
Yes! Pippa’s Ass. But I don’t think they’ll have a real problem with it until they pair up and slip into their Fundies for a special dance that celebrates one of the great urban fears. Seeing hobos doing it.
And on a side note, the smooth suppleness of the Hobo’s legs wasn’t achieved with stockings. That’s real gravy!
Oh yes! The same kind my Grandmother used to rub on her legs to attract sailors during the war when silk was scarce and the same kind I enjoy on my Yorkshire pudding. Feerrrp! Yum!
This should take the pungent aroma of those gravy soaked hobo gams out of the air. It’s the Brute Cologne truck!
No parade is complete without it. Arrrrr Brains!
Mmm, I just love Brut. It smells so romantic. And isn’t that the same truck driven by Sylvester Stallone in Over the Top?
I never took Pippa’s Ass as a film buff but you’re right. Good brown eye you’ve got there. And speaking of films, see if you recognize this braying thespian coming up next.
Is it Sarah Jessica Parker?
No it’s Max the Magical Sexual Mule from the critically acclaimed film Bachelor Party staring Oscar winner Tom Hanks!
I think we have a clip undead Ed.
Oh my, he’s worse than Harry. And who is that riding him?
That’s Nick the Dick.
Ever tried a foot long Pippa’s Ass?
Goodness gracious no. We have the metric system in England. We use yards.
Hey-oh! Well here’s someone that knows a thing or two about converting feet into yards. Ladies and gentlemen please welcome the Magic Internet.
Thank you once living Mr. McMahon and thank you too Miss Pippa’s Posterior. Might I add that you are looking symmetrically proportioned and free from fat cells. And Mr. Reanimated McMahon, I’m curious as to what exactly is causing you to speak and mimic the operations of life? Is it some form of electrical implants or perhaps a neurological parasite occupying your host brain?
Arrrrr! Ha! Try 8 litres of Prince Igor and an old car battery. Yes! Now I understand you’ve brought along a special musical guest straight from the depths of the internet for us?
Yes. His name is McRorie. And he has blended music and computer technology in such a way that can only be showcased through the magical internet.
Wow! That was… that was something.
I feel uncomfortable Ghastly McMahon.
This float celebrates that special feeling of transferred discomfort someone gets when witnessing something incredibly lame. A feeling that Johnny likes to call the Jheeps, or Johnny Creeps.
Oh I’m beginning to feel it right now as I watch those extreme roller bladders on that half pipe float.
Yes, I’d feel it too if I wasn’t long dead. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate how awful that jumbotron playing episodes of Ready or Not is making the crowd feel.
Oh my god. What’s happening now? Is that an all white person reggae band?
That’s right Pippa’s Ass and their starting up is the signal for the giant flash mob to assemble out of the crowd and dance like everyone’s mom after 3 wines at a jazz festival.
And if you look closely under that floppy floral hat with built in dreadlocks, you’ll notice that the saxophone player is none other than TV’s Blossom.
Oh goodness, no! When will it end? Faaarrrrp.
Funny you should ask, because we are at the end. Here comes Johnny himself right now. He’s dressed in an amazingly detailed Robocop costume and eating a Hungryman dinner while sitting atop a replica of C3PO’s Ewok chair from Return of the Jedi.
The chair is being carried by two Bigfoots at the back and the stars of the TLC’s the Little Couple at the front.
I’m being told that this is to give the chair a slopping hot rod look. A Trans Am Monster truck was considered but the owner crashed it while looking at a girl in a tube top.
Oh, he’s waving at me. He’s yelling and tossing me something.
Oh swoon, it’s an extremely fancy and witty lighter. I think he wants a blue angel.
Hey-Ohhhhhrrrr Nooooo Pippa’s Ass. I’m soaked in vodka!
Click. Prrrrrrrrrrriiiiiippppppp!
No comments:
Post a Comment