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Gurgel Dolls have different properties than Humans. Even though Gurgel Dolls are dolls, they do have attributes. They each have a village they come from. Also, there are different fur and eye colors.
As we gaze lovingly upon our very own Gurgel Doll — and believe us, it was well worth the long lines, the angry fellow shoppers who expressed their childish resentment of our superior arm extension by biting our ankles, the obscene catcalls directed at our skin-tight superhero costumes, the naked writhing of — oooh, wait. This is going in the wrong direction.
Do over!
As we gaze lovingly upon our very own Gurgel Doll, we are suffused with a warm pinkish glow that is not in any way related to that wicked batch of homemade pomegranate wine. Or the broccoli schnapps. Or the dandelion brandy. Lies, wicked lies — don’t you believe a word of it!
The peculiar joy that is inspired by the Gurgel Doll Production Factory is not a result of drunken excess or toad-licking or religious conversion. No. The cause of our elation is, for reasons that should be obvious to you by now, nearly impossible to describe. Instead, we are forced to create a thinly stretched metaphor to convey the deeply percussive emotion that you, too, will feel when confronted with the juicy fruits of your Gurgel Doll labor.
Travel with us to the golden sminthophile’s haystack of our imagination. Here we find a sumptuous sanctum — a circular nest lined with stolen cotton and filled with love. Within this refuge from the hurly-burly hustle and bustle of the cruel outer world, a peaceful silence is broken only by the suckling of tiny mouths, the rhythmic twitch of a paw in pursuit of wayward fleas, the soft liquid trickle of a fresh urine scent trail, and the occasional squeeeak-SNAP that we all try, desperately, to ignore. Oh, the painful sweetness of it all!
Two Foot Tall Lighthouse, you speak with the tongues of angels when you say: “Everyone loves the program that has not practical values!” To thine own self be true, and grapple this 11.0 to thy soul with hoops of steel.
Download Gurgel Doll Production Factory
Posted by naomi at November 13, 2003 09:21 PM | TrackBackMakes me want to convert my computer to vacuum tubes, my monitor to a teletype and my keyboard to a cat box.
Posted by: shawk on November 13, 2003 10:15 PMWhat the...?
I have no words to describe the feeling I have after reading this review. Other than I want to kill myself. Painfully. With broccoli schnapps. Repeatedly.
Posted by: Mickey Knox on November 14, 2003 07:51 AMwarning
brain overload
brain overload
brain overload
brain overload
brain overload
brain overload
You mean to tell me someone could make it through all that? I could read all the words, but I lost my concentration somewhere after the second paragraph. What was the point of this program again? Wait a second, what are we talking about again?
Must be Friday. Welcome to Short Attention Span ... uh ...
Posted by: Walking Contradiction on November 14, 2003 11:07 AMmakes me want to convert the programmer's head to brain goo, at a ratio of 1 cubit per knott.
Posted by: kjones on November 14, 2003 03:18 PMshawk, you have losed the plot. First comment is meant to have some witty observation about being first, or Comment Space Waster Pro (damn - how do I get a TM on this keyboard?), or some such shit. Erudite opinions on cat boxes don't work.
Posted by: El Capitano Corelli on November 14, 2003 06:08 PMFIRST POST. HAHAHAHA. I RULE!
For best results, read these comments in reverse order.
Why would we do that Mr. Swanky-wanky *second* poster
Posted by: Mr.Clicky on November 15, 2003 06:58 PMSorry that should be 'Mr Shawky-walky *third* poster'. I got carried away by Naomi's evocative pose er, prose.
Posted by: Mr.Clicky on November 15, 2003 07:01 PM