MILKY SNOUTS THE MOVIE

Coming to a thearter near YOU!!!
TOMORROW!!!






--- Michael Pawloski wrote:

> In a two-hour action packed adventure! TWO HOURS OF
> MILKY SNOUTS!
> Watch as Milky Snouts and Fevered Bouts clog dogs
> and please pigs!
> Collect the whole set! Wear the adult diaper! Eat
> the cereal! Don the
> legwarmers!




It started HERE ::

--- Michael Pawloski wrote:

Do you like poetry? Here is a poem that I wrote,
called "Milky
Snouts"....

MILKY SNOUTS

Milky snouts and fevered bouts
clog a dog or please a pig
A lonesome leaf or a side of beef
could spin a wanker’s wig
Chalky grunts and gooey runts
savor a flavor or rock a boat
A candy bar and a broken car
mock a horn to toot a note
Blistered bags and reckless hags
curb a thought or cough a chunk
Rosy dances and muffled chances
will prod a dunce to flunk




I had a vision about that poem. I predicted that the
following would
occur:

An independent production studio gets wind of this
masterful poetic
work, and they subsequently secure the movie rights,
with a spin-off
line of toys, comforters sets, legwarmers,
eyepatches, miniaturized
appliances , snowboards, adult diapers, and a
breakfast cereal. The
movie performs vigilantly in the box office,
surpassing all previous
records of success for any movie that was spawned
from a poem. The
movie attains cult status, inciting 24-hour
sing-a-longs by militant
activist factions who demand that the poem replace
the national
anthem in all countries except Bolivia.

A particularly stalwart fan, a german lioness named
"Viveka" (little
woman, of the strong fortress), is so moved by the
work, that she
charters a Harrier Jump Jet and flies directly from
Berlin to San
Francisco. She lands the jet on the roof of my
apartment building,
and then repels down the side after shooting a
grapling hook around
an air vent. She swings on a cable and kicks in the
glass of my
living room window, screaming her unshakable love
and admiration for
me. She is wearing an asbestos body suit, a blast
helmet with a face
shield, and a rocket pack. She embraces me and
implores me to sire
her double-headed love child. She takes me in her
arms and in one
dynamic thrust her rocket pack accelerates us out of
the broken
window, it's micro-turbine jets shooting us skyward.
She writes my
name in the sky with the vapor trail of her jetpack
and then we make
love on the tip of the TransAmerica building.

All that from a simple poem! Who would have thought?

Michael Pawloski
Want to know what I've been up to lately?
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