This is the very first SNOGGO adventure, written by SNOGGO himself in the 1st Person (well, by Edna Sweetlove really)

    Cruising through space, looking out of the space porthole, seeing the planets passing by, jesus ******* christ we were so excited, all those ******* planets, what a ******* staggering sight.

    Sharon, our Captain (at three foot six and twenty-one and a half stone an imposing looking woman), bellowed out her order: 'Prepare to descend, you mothers!'

    So most of us stopped ******* and we started preparations for the descent onto the surface of the treacherous unknown planet ****** (aka Big ****** on account of there having been a mix up in naming newly discovered planets and so the universe had ended up with three planets all called ******) - as I was saying, the planet ****** on which no ******* human ever, ever, ever trod on before. Wow, this was ******* exciting.

    The zonometer showed we were only 3,000 feet above the surface of the unknown planet....2,900, 2,800, 2,700, 2,600, 2,500, 2,400......

    You got the ******* picture?

    BLAM!!  We landed. The ******* zonometer was inaccurate, but that's what happens when you buy cheap Asian imports at a ******* discount.

    Captain Sharon went through the full three-hour post-landing, pre-disembarcation procedure whilst I was *******.  I did an enormous one, very smelly and utterly horrible.  She was waiting at the door when I finished and she was clearly very constipated.

    It was time to disembark onto the unknown surface of the unknown planet ******.  The stratodoor opened and we were overwhelmed by the stench which hit our ******* nostrils toute suite: purest ****. What kind of people were the Bolloxonians who couldn't even organise a decent sewage system?

    I was chosen (on account of my club foot) to be among the first to descend onto ******'s surface.  It was cool and I limped heroically onto the planet's surface.

    We explored a bit, being careful not to step on the huge piles of used condoms everywhere.  The terrain was hideous and eldritch, a bit like my Aunt Edna's bedroom after she's been entertaining the local retards for a ******* ****-in.

    We saw this thing.  My mind could not immediately recognise it for its utter, brain-blowing horror.  I cannot tell you what it was, the words fail me, my intellect goes into shut-down mode.  O holy **** it was ghastly.  All right, I'll tell you what it was.  It was a THREE HUNDRED FOOT ****, all covered in oozing pus and vibrating bleeding worms and so on and **** like that.

    The crew of the our spaceship were enraptured and I was nearly killed in the scrum to get stuck in to this mighty beauty.  We had travelled three light years, crossed fifty galaxies, battled twelve-inch penised space midgets for the right to feast on this great ****.

    What can I say?  How can I describe the mighty cry that rose up from the assembled crew as they started to gobble the giant space poo lump....?

    'YUM! YUM! YUM! YUM! YUM! YUM!' they shrieked orgasmically, ******* themselves in well-earned contentment. I think we must agree that it was delicious and well worth the journey.

THE END

In the web of fate lives a spider,
An eight legged dancer,
Stepping to the rhythm of life,
Every twirl sends a shimmer,
Every leap a shudder,
Shaking,
Shivering,
Always in motion,
And so the web is woven.

slowed to a halt:
a winter afternoon
or the sun’s departure in
the northern woods—
this is I,
and you as well with your heavy
eyelids and heavy hands.

we still are not light;
not the lithe feet of a
whimsical dance.

we are not the yellow light
in slits across the
wooden floor.

we are hot air
running thick in
the mouths of all who
dare stand in the heat

—yes!

for the sun has drained us of our green
but left us gold.

for this, we are enduring.
for this, we have tried
not to stab ourselves
with our own sharp spines;
the golden sword of
of thoughts.

The ice crystals clutch the fluid window
glittering in the jaundiced streetlamp
as behind their eyes the world slips by
swimming in the chaotic moon.
And where do I belong?
And where do I go from here?
Lost in an empty hope
that vanishes in the labored breaths of a dying girl.
And where do I belong?
And where do I go from here?

Dear diary,

Today was a sunny day. I love sunny days! Momma says sunny days are God's kisses! If God is kissing me, he better stop giving me a sunburn on my ****! That's weird!!!

Dad is working on his book. He's been working on his book a lot. I don't see him when he does it because he does it in secrecy. When I do see him, he drinks a lot. He says it helps him write. Dad has been drinking a lot since the restaurant fired him.

I don't know how to do my homework! It's called algebra! I asked dad and he didn't know how to do it either! Dang, algebra must be hard because dad is the smartest guy in the world!

I decided to join this website so I could make my dad proud! I want to make mom happy too! She has a lot of bruises! Dad says she keeps falling down the stairs! Clumsy mom!


Sincerely,

Frank Ruland Jr.