The other day, whilst in a drunken stupor at horsemanure's BBQ, I accidently mistook a container of vaseline for really really bland marmelade. Little did i know that the combination of jailhouse anal lubricant and burnt toast would lead me into an imaginary misadventure on a tiny island.

And this is how it went:

I was flying my supersonic fighter jet plane home from Paris after a particularly steamy rendezvous with Jude Law. My mind must have wandered because one second i was thinking about Jude's massive pulsating -- then all of a sudden, my plane lost control and i crashed just off the coast of a tiny island called "The Middle of" located in the sea of Nowhere (ha ha, i stole that from the far side). I donned my arm floaties and slowly paddled my way towards shore.

I discovered that there were already others present on the island. The week before, their cruise ship had an unfortunate collision with the Giant Seahorse of DOOM, which had suddenly emerged from the ocean.

Under a sickly looking palm tree were Meg and Sabine. They were both consoling each other, each having experienced a terrible mishap in the jungle. Meg, on a ravenous frenzy, had eaten of the deadly regurgiberry, which was often mistaken for its less prickly, less radioactive, less carnivorous but more popular cousin, the blueberry. Sabine had ventured into the jungle to, uh, poo. Because of the lack of wild Purex, Sabine grabbed the nearest leaf for ass wiping. It would be a while until Sabine could laugh over the Poison Ivy Incident.

Sitting on an overturned case of Spam was Jason, Chief Commander of Crotch Scratching, you guessed it, scratching his crotch.

A few of the tribe members had turned to cannibalism. Crowded around a tiny hibachi, one of the few items salvaged from the ship, were Mangledoll, Doug, Squibnocket, and Q, eyes closed and making "mmmmmm" noises as they savoured Prime Rib a la Raynbowbrite, served with a delectable Bearnaise sauce.

Uberhamster had gone fishing and triumphantly marched back to camp holding a rubber boot up by its dorsal fin. The sun had obviously gotten to Uberhamster. Dan shook his head and tossed it on the Hibachi, coals sizzling while Uber clapped in glee.

The remainder of the tribe, which included Bill, Akira, and Francine, were busy washing their rank clothes in a small lagoon, unaware that Uberhamster had earlier urinated into that particular water source. The stench would not be rid off. Yet again, Uberhamster clapped in glee.

With a great sigh I sat on a giant boulder, the massive rock crumbling under the weight of my fat ass. Out came the handly emergency two-way radio I always carried in my back pocket in case of such dire events. How would that fit in my pocket, you ask? Did i mention i have a fat ass? Fat ass = fat pants = fat pockets. Do the math. Anyways, I digress. Help was on its way.

My convulsions ceased and I awoke, face down in the evil vaseline that had done me wrong. I eyed the spawn of satan concoction suspiciously. With a shrug I finished it off. Hey, when you're hungry, you're hungry.