Love me or blow me, either way

I bet Magna means here's some and Laude means eat it and that makes Magna cum Laude finally make sense and you're welcome (welcum)

2011-03-21T15:49:00.001-05:00

I've been spending my times in writing a new children's book called The Boy Who Sneezed Cum but it's not gross because he doesn't eat it, just sneezes it and probably wipes it on his jeans or something.

It could be a girl, too, but that seems too unbelievable.

I haven't quite written it, that much is true and I'm still shopping the concept around to the various people who buy such things. To be honest, I just have the title and I'm not sure if it's a children's book or a romance, I can see it living in both fields reasonably well; perhaps I'll write two versions.

I'll probably start drawing the pictures this weekend unless the scotch store has run out of scotch and I'm thinking of doing it in charcoals or cray paws, whatever they are.

At this point, it's a cautionary tale about a boy growing up in the streets of Chicago. The mean streets like Cabrini Greens or wherever the gangs are, these days. But he's not black. I have a hard time drawing blacks, frankly, they come out as blobs but that's not racist, it's just true. Whites I can draw because they have firm outlines and pale white skin between the black of the lines on their faces and clothes. Plus when I run for office I want to use this site as a testament to my tolerance which is profound and evident.

Secondarily, it's to be a cautionary tale and it's kind of rude how you thought he'd have to be black just because he was from the mean streets of Chicago ... as if white kids can't be poor. Shame on you, sir.

Shame.

Anyway, I copied the title (let this be between us) from the Girl who Picked the Hornet's nest but instead of picking and hornets it's sneezing cum because how awful would that be. It's bad enough when it gets in your mouth and he's all waiting for you to pretend that it's a peach cobbler and you're a cum gobbler and you're all... wow, that's ... delicious... but instead of that it's all over your hands and everyone is looking at you and you're all cummy.

Like normal.

You have poop on your fingers and I think that's how you like it

2011-02-21T16:21:00.001-06:00

I had to move to deacon three because the Chinese found out about the top secret award pogo.com gave me for being a poppit master genius and all and getting almost every balloon popped at near light speed. I once got down to four balloons and they were so impressed they sent me a medal via Fed Ex to space, where I live.

The Chinese are so mad and jealous. They're gnashing their tiny hands and rolling their slitty eyes around and you can see foam on their lips and they hiss when they get like this. I don't know how they found out about the medal, it's safe in my trunk unless you fucking told them which I'm sure now that you did. You never did like me to have any glory and you've always wanted to be a poppit master.

I had to go to deacon four even up here in space, where I live.

You can basically tell a dog is similar and basically equal to a Mexican in most every way. I've figured out the formulae to explain it to people, not that you fucking care. You never were very nice to me, innerness.

For one thing, they all have brown eyes. Like Mexicans. I've never seen a blue eyed Mexican and that's not being racist, it's just true. Dogs and Mexicans have brown eyes.

Another fact is they like to dig. Dogs love to dig and get under my fence and then tear around in low riders in my neighborhood. Well, not my neighborhood… my neighborhood is well patrolled so they stay in the south of town, which is probably best.

For 3, they are ruining the health care system. They come up in packs and then go to our hospitals and ruin it. It's ruinous.

Another thing is they sleep all day. All fucking day. When they're not clogging the hospital or digging under my fence or staring at me with devil brown hate eyes, they're sleeping on my couch where I told them not to sleep.

Mexicans are like dogs.

The end.

if i was a Sleestak, I'd be the one in the bad mask with the 3 fingered glove that was allergic to bright lights

2010-10-15T10:33:00.001-05:00

The best part about being married is that everyone is as miserable as I am. It's a misery-loves-company-fuck-fest where nobody's getting fucked and the only sounds you hear are arguments about money and how to discipline the kids.

Life is pretty delicious, though, and it's Friday and if not for the 40 extra pounds I believe I could fly but that's neither here nor there.

Marriage is like being in an oncology office and you're looking around and everyone has cancer including you. The newlyweds have easy cancers like pre-cancerous cells that the oncologist just blows on and they drift away. My neighbor who's been married for a gazillion decades must have inoperable brain tumors all the way into space he's so married. He's gonna die of it and it's gonna be soon. To be fair, he is quite old and I seen him with a walker and that can't be a good sign. If you're tooling about on a walker then watch your step and count your days, my friend.

The nice thing about cancer is it doesn't discriminate on body parts. It'll eat the skin, the lungs, noses like what Micheal Jackson had, it goes for the pancreas like Steve Jobs had (has) (and did you ever wonder if he sold his soul to satan to get the stock price to 300 and all it cost him was his pancreas?), cancer will even eat your toes; it's an equal opportunity disaster.

Someone told me Bob Marley had to cancer which is pretty hard to believe but I guess I believe it about as much as that Rod Steward passed out and they had to pump his stomach and guess what it had 3 gallons of cum in it.

That's a lot of cum. I'm not sure you could suck enough dicks to get that much cum. You'd really have to save it up and then drink it but I'm not sure it'd make you pass out.

I like the Rod Stewart cum story because I don't particularly like Rod Stewart. His music was ok for its time but his hair is really too poofy to like much. Anyone with that poofy of hair you can see him guzzling 3 gallons of cum.

But the toe cancer is pretty retarded and you have to laugh at a guy who succumbs to it, even if it's the worst case of toe cancer anyone ever saw it's still pretty gay. Plus all that weed, you'd think he'd go and get some good old fashioned lung cancer.

I don't smoke weed but it should be legal.

Anyway, I guess even old Achilles was brought down by a gay old toe wound. Heel really but it's basically the same.

Where'd it get you, Achilles?

The heel...

Oh, you'll surv...

I suppose everyone is invulnerable until they're not.

Life's funny that way.

chicken enchiladas for dinner! omgomglol!!!! isn't it wonderful!!!>>>

2010-10-11T16:32:00.001-05:00

I think I've figured out an objective argument against gay marriage which is nigh-unassailable from the god-forsaken left winger nut jubs who love Obama and hate America and want to tear it down and build in its place Taxutopia.

Today is gay brainwash-all-your-kids-into-becoming-gay-pride-day, so-called grainwash or gainwash... or fuck it, I can't think of a good name to mock it, OK? But consider it mocked if just not well-mocked.

It's all over the facegooks. People are saying gay this, gay that and it's almost more than I can stand. I go there so I can see what people I barely know made their kids this weekend and milquetoast quotes from Einstein, and meaningless tests which tell me my personality type is a Virgo -- not more gay propaganda trying to turn me and my children (and especially your children) gay.

That's not why I go there.

To the facegooks.

I go for boring status updates and sometimes Mafia Wars though I'm not sure why Mafia Wars because it's terrible, I guess I've just fallen into a bit of online rut, you know? Pay for status refills? Are you fucking nuts? What jobber does that? Who has the time let alone the money? Right?

As well on some news site, some old fat dude in New York also says he didn't march in the gay parade and I'm pretty sure he didn't because he looks like he spit out a plug of chaw before he done the interview.

Too, he's apparently a builder and I'd be the last to say the gays can't build but... let's just say this guy isn't building lime-puce condos in soho, whatever that means (it means nothing cause I don't know what a soho is and I don't want to know what a soho is (except it sounds pretty gay, if you asked me which is why I will not go there. (ever. (lolj/k, it's a chic neighborhood in NYC which is expensive but has lovely art and exquisite, if highly expensive, real estate. (So-called gaytopia.))))).

Anywho, on that train of thought I said to myself... I can end this gay debate once and for all and I can use logic which is basically irrefutable except by religion and magic. Sometimes you can let logic and magic and religion work together if the religion agrees with the logic... in that way you can have logic inside of religion.

It's like this... let's say I have a logic that says, Man in hat, earth is flat... and then I point to a man wearing a hat... in that way logic works with religion and magic (magic is very different from religion) because it accentuates the truth.

Now, follow me through this... it's not quite I think therefore I am (which makes no damn sense because who gives a fuck about that guy? (Cogito ergo sum? WTF is that nonsense? Quick question... English... learn it)).

It's not quite like that at all... not nearly so meaningful but it bears some concentration like that Pythagoras theorem...

The crux of my argument is this... If god had meant for there to be gays he would have made Adam and STEVE, not Adam and Eve! Now if we start from there, we can safely go here... did god create Adam and Steve? No, he did not. Therefore, no gay marriage. Solved.

Not convinced?

Fine, look at it another way. Are there gay Hindus? No, there are not.

Not enough proof?

Fine.

What about the Chinese... no gay Chinese... I think it's technically illegal even though they don't exist. Except maybe B.D. Wong... I think he might be gay... Probably because nothing rhymes with B.D. Wong.

With some branches of logic, rhymes are very important. Adam and Steve works in this case because Steve rhymes with Eve... Had it been Adam and Carol? Less of an impact. Espesh cause Carol could be a man or a woman. It's ambiguous and it doesn't rhyme, see? It's one of those names created by the gays to confuse us. Carol is. Not ambiguous, though it's not an easy word.

Picture this, you're jackin it to a Carol (mmmmmmmmm sweet, sweet Carol Brady) and suddenly you find out that IT'S A MAN (that guy who played Archie Bunker who later went crazy and murdered that drug dealer but who cares, just a dead dealer)!!!!!

That's confusing to a young mind.

Let me sum up with this... Gay marriage? disproved.

Plus, only jack it to solid girl names.

And you'll be safe and sane.

i'm pretty sure i spelled a lot wrong in this but the god damn machine isn't reporting errors

2010-10-06T17:29:00.001-05:00

I seen you at the mini mall the other day.

I had my head buried in a magazine and my back was to the people as I looked at the magazines. I was wearing that old green army trench coat and my disco shorts that you love so well and I had my head buried in a new magazine of Us even though I have a subscription to Us Magazine.

It was buried in the US magazine and it was the Snooki Upskirt special and I didn't even know what there was a Snooki but sure I took a peep just for posterity that I seen what there is to be seen and I must tell you that I've never been so glad to look away from an upskirt special as I was that day when I seen you in the gabardine jumpsuit you were wearing.

Fine, I'll admit that I had seen a Snooki earlier in some magazine or in some site if that makes you happy. She's technically a midget though she's not all squatty like most midgets but I think she'd have a good career in midget mud wrestling or maybe the hottest midget pron star since the 8th century.

She's a whorrid abhoration and I loathe looking at her. If we were stuck on a deserted island, even a nice one, I would use her for tallow.

You looked ravishing, in your way. The color of gaberdine really flares off your eyes and the jumpsuit style is rocketing back like the ever exanding speed of space, or faster.

Faster, that's how fast your jumpsuit is going to be cool again.

Jauntily slung over your jump was your beige or a light beige cashmiere sweater. Perhaps it was a modest taupe. I couldn't tell if you were going for an ironic off beige but it looked pretty good. It would have looked better in a whore house but you done fine with it, don't fret.

I knew it was you because you was picking your nose out in public like you like to do, like nobody can see you but I saw you as I gazed out of the Upskirt issue using my all-seeing eye which is located just beneath my left eye but when I look at my face in the mirror I always imagine it's the right side. It could be on account of a brain tumor which I'm suspecting has been growing on the right side of my brain in a small hollow where grand thoughts are created. I can feel a hollow and when I close my left eye I can almost see strands of tumor. It's directly behind my right eye. I've looked it up on the innernest and it's a diagnosed fact.

I try not to use the all-seeing eye because it gives me acne when I do and I typically choose beauty over knowledge any day of the week, particularly when it comes to me and mine.

Anyway, I seen you and I know it was you on account of the nose pick and you didn't think anyone noticed but I did. You approached it as you always do, like you have a small itch on the rim of your nostril and then you went shockingly deep, thumb diving down like you were trying to rescue miners in a busted up mine and I'll be a liar if I wasn't shocked (at your bravery and skill) and that there was an actual booger on the tip of the retrieval with a comet-like tail of streaming comet snot trailing behind like it was in orbit.

I seen you eye it with some satisfaction and I can appreciate that, it was a job well done if a queer spot to do such shenanigans and then your arm dropped subtly to your jumper and I have to tell you that you wiped the boogs on the gaberdine jump suit and I'd wash it if I were you before I wore that again.

i want to reassure you that i don't own a belt made of vulvas. a so-called vulva belt. or a vulva yammicka but i want one. (birthday idea)

2010-09-01T14:22:00.001-05:00

I've never been able to tell the difference between Jack Nicklaus and Jack Nicholson, that much of the truth is true. And besides I wouldn't lie about things like that, it doesn't really matter anyway.

It has been a source of long embarrassment to me that I confuse the two men. I never talk about the golfing one, who gives a shit about golf and who's a good golfer. Golf is a faggy effite sport that faggy effites do and rub dicks about. Nobody cares.

That much is true.

Plus what kind of sport is good when it's a low score? Other than golf? Soccer? Fuck golf and soccer, sports that made the Incas die.

The only thing that's good about golf was watching Tiger Woods' life implode in a sparky fury of dirty vaj-filled infidelity. Had I known that being a famous golfer would be auto entry into every despoiled rain forest of prony vaginas then I may have considered it as a career. Maybe not as the first choice but in junior high I may have listed it behind doctor as a close second.

And that much is true, it seemed that a doctor would be a good career but fuck that. Do you know how much doctors work? That would have cut into my me time. Fuck that.

Plus, everyone was all, omg, his wife is so hot! She's not that hot. Plus she's a terrorist from Norway or some such country. Point is she's not that hot and she's not an American.

That much is true.

But that's neither here nor there, I can guarantee you. I can guarantee that I've spoken the truth, too. Elin is not that hot and I can't differentiate between Nicklaus and Nicholson.

Not that it really matters. About the name thing. Tiger's pale white wife also doesn't matter. But I'm talking about the names. Nicklaus and Nicholson.

It always comes up that I'm talking about a movie and he's in one of them and I say, god, it's that movie with Jack Nicklaus in it and he's a crazy guy...

Always some asshole cracks like it's the funniest thing he's ever said, DO YOU MEAN JACK NICHOLSON?

Always it's in caps and sure to be followed by guffaws and my grinding jaw.

What can I do about this? I'm confused and that's just the way it is, their names are far too similar. And if the jokes that came after were funny I simply wouldn't mind.

That's true.

I think it would be fair if we made Jack Nicklaus cut his nipples off.

That would be the only fair way to treat this situation we have with him. He probably makes the same mistakes, in fact. At least that situation would be funnier because that would mean he was an old man making the long slide into insanity and nobody would mention that he got his own name wrong but just look around sheepishly hoping they were in his will.

That would be fine and just.

So he's getting pretty old and I think if he would allow us to cut his nipples off that it would be a pneumonic that we could all master and avoid that mistake and it might even help him.

Plus he's not using his nipples, I'll bet. Sure, maybe as a young man... But he's almost dead as old as he is and now the nipples just hang there in a forest of gray hair and they weep at the sag and rememberance of better days and they'd cut themselves off if they could.

So if we could say in our heads when talking about one of the Jacks it would be easy enough to say, Jack Nicklaus cut his nipples off.

And that rhyme would solve a lot of today's problems.

And that much is true.

if i could take a zip line to hell i'd probly do it because it would be fun for awhile. until you got to hell. that's when the sucking would start.

2010-05-28T16:39:00.001-05:00

Several things and I guess it wouldn't hurt to launch right into them.

The one is one that can't be said enough and already has been said too much and no, it ain't the god damn oil spill. Enough about the oil spill we all know Obama done it and he done it to ruin our economy and steal the freedoms. Just like I warned you, I didn't predict specifically an oil spill but I did warn you.

Can't be said enough but that the little prince Gary Coleman finally gave up the ghost and went back to his lonely planet to care for his flower and I'm pretty sad about that, he was cute back in his day.

And what with him trying to finally get his life together after he was struck by the madness of Hollywood, the pornography and the sex and the drugs and everyone's all, I like midgets, don't believe what they say in encyclopedias, I really like midgets.

Then the rape charges and such. I'm sure they were drummed up, I don't think he could hold anyone down except some other midget. Which maybe that was the case against him, I'm not up to speed on his felonies, I like to accept the good in him, not the rapes.

It's a damn shame because he was starting to come out of it.

Living in Provo, Utah and I understand he was going to become the first black member of the Ldsers. Well, the first living black member, they baptize for the dead which makes sense. I understand they don't baptize all the blacks, but they got some of the important ones to show on their books that they're not racists at all.

Othello, for one.

I can't think of any more but there probly at least five more including Gary. Poor dead Gary, you seemed creepy but when you said whatchoo talkin bout very fast like you done, we all fell in love.

Second thing is I'll bet that guy from Wham, the one who didn't go on to blow dudes in parks (and make it on the news about the fact that he was blowing dudes in parks (because believe me, he was at the parks))--I bet that guy sits around and people say, have you met so and so, he used to be in Wham.

Then he gets a smug grin on his scruffy face and waits for the cooing and awing and what they really wanted to say was he was the failure from Wham.

But that's ok because that's as close to a famous friend as they'll get and so they glint a bit from his tiny glimmer.

But they don't disparage and nor would I, I'd feel bad about hurting his feelings like that.

I just can't believe about Gary Coleman. Who's next, Kimberly? Cory Haim?

All my childhood friends are dying, it seems.

And John Travolta is having another baby and you know that's not going to end well. I think he used alien DNA or something because his wife is ancient.

If I had one retard baby who just suddenly died in the Bahamas for no reason you can be sure I'd stop at one.

Plus, fuck the Bahamas. It's dirty and you die there.

That retard Travolta.

That fat girl from Guess jeans.

That one girl who was killed by that Dutch guy who finally admitted it.

Ponce de Leon.

Bermuda triangle.

I wish Heidi and Spencer would go there.

Fuck the Bahamas.

my gmail password is tits or zits i'll take the one please one but it's a number one and there's no spaces now you don't have to hack me, i invite you in as i would most vampires except the gay ones in the charlene books and also the gay ones in the

2010-05-10T14:46:00.001-05:00

I seen a terrible picture about what the hardon collider plans on doing to the world and I'll tell you that it's only mitigated by the fact that the only destruction comes in the form of wherever the cern is and I'm happy to report that it isn't in America where the good people live.

Here's the picture:

http://i197.photobucket.com/albums/aa231/sterling_red/cernaccident.jpg?t=1217952432

I'll have you note that the picture is taken from space where most of the damage will be done and it's the best vantage point. I guess a good vantage point would also be at the hardon collider but not for long. I'll bet he's tapping his controls and thinking, "hmmm, puzzling, that gauge shouldn't be so high..." then he's a mess of loose mass and the hardon has done it's job.

I seen one scientist talk and he said, "can I predict that a dragon won't appear and destroy the world?" He eventually said he couldn't and that was enough for me to know CERN was bad.

Then I read about some guy who said that if you locked a cat in a box (and this was related to summoning dragons I'll have you note) and then that cat was as likely dead as alive and it occurred to me that you should get a better box either to ensure the cat is dead or alive rather than the 50 50 compromise.

I'd get a box with daggers in the lid.

Plus have you ever tried to get a cat into a box? It's impossible. They scratch and hiss and bite. That's life wisdom I just passed to you about cats and boxes and you can thank me later. Probably from prison which is where you'll end up knowing your track record. But we're still friends.

Like as not you'd kill it just to get it in the box.

That shaves the odds a bit.

Here's a picture of a goat with braces. He looks pretty happy all things considered.

http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f375/HonestBlues/smilinggoat.jpg

If bacon was to be combined by science with sex and scotch, I'd be happily dead before this night is done

2010-05-06T15:45:00.001-05:00

It's true.

I've drawn two dots on my penis so that it's constantly making the following emote :| except for it makes it on its side like in real life

2010-04-16T15:43:00.001-05:00

I always preferred Pinkie Tuscadero to her sister, Leather Tuscadero.

Leather Tuscadero gave me the fright.

I think it was the leather jacket or the Joan Jett hair or the manish face and I can't really tell you for sure what it was but it was something about her that gave me the fright.

I'm not really sure what Fonzie saw in her to be honest.

What a disappointment, Henry Winkler. He goes from the awesome Fonzie to sad Henry Winkler. Smelling socks and working in a morgue, pushing away a sack full of prostitutes and whining all the while.

It's like he got a transfusion of Gabe Kaplan's blood some time in the 70s.

What a shame, poor Henry Winkler.

Pinkie Tuscadero wore pink things and chewed gum which is a fine enough exercise. She wore a pink bow in her hair, which was nice. If you can say wearing any bow ever in your hair is nice, that is.

It is not nice.

Leather Tuscadero is the kind that doesn't hold you at arm's length but she invites you to her apartment to look at her art and you've had enough to drink so you go and when you get there and it's late and your friends have all seen you out the door with Leather Tuscadero, you find that you don't know what to do with a woman who doesn't arm's length you.

So you sit and you look at the art and you say stupid, awkward things and you pet her cat and then you pass out drunk on her bed just to wake up in the morning feeling stupid and foolish and then the long walk home.

In that respect, Leather Tuscadero is like most of the women I've ever known.

Including the arm's lengthers.

If you could get nobel peaces for avoiding conflict with your wife, i'd have a closet full (yes, i mean your wife, she can be a real bitch)

2010-04-14T14:34:00.001-05:00

I knew a girl once who used to tell everyone that she was a vegetarian but that she ate fish and turkey sometimes and that always struck me as being a piss poor vegetarian. I never said nothing to her because she was attractive. Not big old tits that jutted or spilled out or nothing like that, one of skinny ones who keep you an arms length away.

Or more.

Sometimes more than an arms length and in this case it was true so I had nothing to lose to tell her that vegetarians are ones what don't eat any meat at all and sometimes they don't eat eggs and sometimes they don't eat cheese and that in all cases it's retarded and we should just have a steak and the scotch.

But she was pretty so I let the rage build up inside until today. Now it's out and spilled on you. Now it's your rage. Now you can bottle it up and let it stew up in you until you run out of your bedroom and tell your mom that she's not folding your PJs well enough.

Or whatever it is you do when pent up anger.

I wonder what the Catholic vegetarians do.

Technically they're always munching the body of Christ. Strikes me as that's a piss poor vegetarian, a cannibal.

I wonder which part of the body it is. I guess I wouldn't mind having the ribs. Ribs are pretty good. I'd hate to get the scrote or something, though. I guess you just have to think of it like a hot dog and not really think about it.

The blood is easier.

Catholics would make very bad Hindus what with all the body and blood of Christ.

Plus it was just Easter. Came and went which is kind of how it always happens.

I don't mean to brag but I basically ate an entire ham myself. I made a ham soup and I done it wrong so it tasted like ham and salt. Like if you took a ham to the ocean and put it all together then 7 quarts later you have sea-ham and you try to make your kids eat it but they won't. Because it's terrible and you don't want to waste it because it's ham so you eat it every day for 9 meals a day because you're forty and fat.

And now I have an erection like Cialis does over 4 hours but it's from ham and I'm not sure if I should try to jerk it away or just lay back and let the ham run its course. Likely I'll go for plan A, might as well make the best of a good thing.

If I was in the Black eyed Peas I'm not sure if I'd be one of the black ones or one of the horse faced white girls. I guess I don't have to decide, today.

2010-02-18T18:05:00.001-06:00

If I ever saw Roger Ebert walking down the street toward him I would shoot him dead in the head without a second thought and there's not a jury in the world that would convict me, either.

I typically don't carry a gun to shoot people but I can imagine that on a day like that, serindipity would have made me somehow get a gun and make sure it was loaded and shoot and kill Roger Ebert.

I picture him shuffle-step-slork walking up to me all the time, his tracheotomy (tricky spell spot behind us) is peeping and slurping and flecks of spit (sputum) are flying out and you just know he's trying to say Brains or something like that.

You picture him shuffling up to Omaha to find me -- shuffle up to Omaha, his Jaw left somewhere behind in Chicago and he's come for mine and I don't even pause, I swing the gun up and shoot and he dies and not a jury would convict me.

I picture a terrific death of his, feet fly out from under, arms flail and there he falls and the sun comes out and the people look out their windows and they come out to see what I've done and relief fills their eyes and their eyes fill with tears and the sun comes out and I'll tell you it's very un-sunny in Omaha this long winter.

And not a jury would convict me.

Even his good old friend Siskel (I didn't look up how his name is really spelled. Take that PBS!) wouldn't condemn me.

Of course I'd apologize, it's not nice to kill, even a zombie. Not if you don't have to, even if they're after your very perfect and fine jaw. Even then it's a bit like killing.

And I would go to his family.

And I would go to the funeral and I'd hide behind one of those wall things that hang down that are supposed to look stylish but typically just collect dust.

They would certainly see me and call me out to speak and I would speak a word of apology and they would listen and then I would lead them in a round of Amazing Grace.

Until the wretch like me part as I don't know the words after that.

wolfman was a bad movie. you'll probably love it because you love hairy naked men and bad cgi.

2010-02-17T20:38:00.001-06:00

A lot of people used to rightly believe that one of the surest and slyest ways to kill a man was to be a ninja and to come up on him in the dark and it also has to be very cold or it won't work and you come up on him in the cold and dark and it's silent and JAM! You slam his neck with a frozen icicle, at least a lot of people used to believe that was the case and sure I was one of them until I had a recent epiphany.

A lot of people regard me as one of the formost references on ninjas and how best to do killings and that makes sense because I've studied it. Really I've done nothing else. Study being a ninja, drink scotch and jack it night and day. The order of the three things is really not important.

In late December I was struck with a notion that I think you'll want to hear because it's going to shock the world of best ways a ninja can kill someone in the cold and dark.

The idea that I've been doing nothing but refine over the past several weeks?

Frozen poop daggers.

So simple, right?

Wrong!

At first I thought, sure... I'll throw these in with the semencicles, let them freeze, test them out on my dogs or the passers by and publish it in all the journals.

Well, it may seem like an easy task to grab some poops out of the bowl, but it's harder than you'd think. They bend over like tall towers. That is when it isn't a mess of chopped up goo from the scotch (the most typical thing, I can assure you).

Then, once you freeze them on trays you have to act pretty fast before they lose the hard edge. Stabbing someone with a mushy shit is not the idealest weapon from a ninja perspective.

Finally, the tips are rather dull. I initially tried to sand them but that was a waste of sand paper as you couldn't get them sharp enough. The frozen turds shot off into space in a form of turd dust which then settles on your clothes and in your nose until you take a bath, which is a rare enough event.

This was months of battling to make the perfect shit dagger.

Finally it struck me.

Mold the knife when the clay is warm!

It takes a bit of work to spin a foul clump of clay into a useable weapon but I think I have a batch in the freezer that just might do the trick.

I put them on wax paper. I used to just lay them down in there but that was a failed mistake.

My new temptation is to dig a pit and use them as punjee sticks for the mailman. He thinks he's so great. You should see him scampering about and waving. You would hate it and I would try to hold you back from attacking him.

Then when they found him they'd be all... where's the murder weapon!!?? Because it's melted. It's by now just gobs of poops.

Excuse the Typos, my Nubs are acting up and it's dark as winter in here

2009-12-08T08:20:00.001-06:00

God I wish I could say smart things instead of mean little trivial things, like I do.

They get these smart guys to go on the shows and they say, this is an expert in such and such and then the expert comes on and he's all blah blah blah unless it's about women's things, then it's a girl and she does the same voice but it's higher and with less authority.

At least to my ear.

Let's get a man in here to talk about the menses, his low timbre is reassuring to me down into my heart and below where the soul lives.

God I wish I could say the smart things instead of explain the things that I do.

I'd like to be the one who says, "Want to hear an interesting thing about quarks?"

And you're all, "Why, yes, of course." because what else can you say to something like that? There's no elegant way to turn down a question about quarks and you probably already knew this because of your advanced linguistics and minor degree in physics. It's all minor degrees with you, nothing major. It's that way with me, too, it's why I like you as well as I do and we speak halting French or Spanish to one another.

So then they tell you and in fact, it's the most interesting thing you've ever heard about a quark and also the least interesting thing and it goes on and on and after the few shortest sentences your brain is going on about how you ate too much for breakfast again or that this weekend you're going to do something fun, unlike the last weekend when all you did was sit on the couch hoping a new job would come along or that Tiger Woods would finally call until the smart stop on and oning and you say, "That makes sense."

I never would have invented the wheel, it's just not very practical if you look at a wheel. Just sitting there. Maybe it's rolling, but who gives a fuck, nobody cares about one rolling wheel. But you know the guy that invented it just sat there and pointed at it like everyone should understand the genius behind it. And he was smiling, oh, sure. He was grinning like he'd just done some grand thing and everyone would laud him and his name would be on the anals. All of the anals. From New York to Upper New York. And beyond.

My neighbor might have figured it out, but he's an asshole, and who wants that? I'd rather not have a wheel than be a regular asshole. Casual asshole I can live with, but not regular.

You should see his tools. All lined up. Clean. His workbench, too. Nothing aside.

He'd have made a wheel, but not me.

I'd certainly have invented prostitution, though. That's a concept I can get my head around.

I'd be happy to give you 8 sheckles and the rest of this ham for a blow job.

I'd be happy to give you a place to stay for your gentle company.

I'd be glad to give you a place to stay and food for sex whenever I want.

I'd be fine to give you a place to stay and spending money and food for sex whenever you want.

Fuck.

I would have invented marriage.

I wish I could say smart things.

Probly having a heart attack soon. You never can tell when they'll get you.

2009-09-02T12:31:00.001-05:00

I'm in the process of inventing a new type of DNA, a DNA where people will have butt plugs instead of the anal sphincters.

The advantage of the butt plug to the sphincter is that it doesn't tear on contact. Plus if you over-wipe, the butt plug does not care as it's made of plastic and also if you have to go on a trip, you simply say, "Sec, guys, have to drain the butt plug," and you don't have to worry about stopping on the road.

The other advantage is one size fits all.

Sure, we will market them as different sizes but only we will know that. You and me. Not the masses who will have to buy replacement butt plugs. (I will provide ours for free).

I also thought it would be a good idea to get into the manufacture and marketing and distribution of butt plugs, because you know people are going to misplace them.

You just know it.

We'll do 3 packages, one super large, for the large sized shitter, one medium and one super small for the dainty and effete.

Of course, the slutty gays will buy the large sized and they'll strut around the gym saying, look at all the gay sex I've had. Look at my massive butt plug.

Of course the closet gays and most girls will get the small butt plugs. They'll strut around the gym saying, look at how small my butt plug is, I've never had nor wanted to have any gay sex (for what the boys say). The girls say, look at how skinny I am and my butt plug proves it!

And maybe that's true, who am I to judge.

Everyone else, you and me probably, will get the medium sized because really, it's just a butt plug.

Your wife will say to you, you need butt plugs? And you'll say, sure, get me some.

Medium, or should I get you large, this time?

She'll say that to test you, to see if you're dipping into the gay wells.

The correct answer is a distracted, over-the-shoulder comment, "Jesus, I don't care, just get me some."

Indifference is the key to many a puzzle.

Another scenario is this, "Dad, I lost my butt plug, may I borrow one of yours?"

Then you sigh like, butt plugs don't grow on trees and you should be more responsible like I was more responsible at your age, but you don't say it. You sure don't say it but they know.

Then you take yours out and hand it over and they pop it right in.

You don't even have to wash them because they're already dirty! I mean, covered in poo is covered in poo, right?

If you took a pile of dirt and laid it on a pile of dirt, would you call that new pile more or less dirty?

No, it would be the same. Filthy and disgusting. Dirty. Ick. Don't touch them. Contaminated. Not more, not less. Same.

But then should you take that dirt pile and put it into a dirty hole and tamp it down would you say that hole is any dirtier?

No matter how hard you tamp, tamp power is not the relevant factor here, it's the dirty factor.

It would still be dirty, you would agree.

I suppose we could do studies.

Fine.

We would do studies.

Lots of studies.

To make sure you could just swap them around like that safely.

Of course the studies would come back that you should NOT swap them around. Or that you should soak them in alcohol before any sort of swapping.

And then that would lead to the inevitable...

Butt plug swapping parties.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.... Michael Jackson died?

2009-07-14T16:18:00.000-05:00

My toilet has given up on me.

I guess you could say it never really started.

I miss my old toilet.

It liked to be challenged.

It used to beg me to flush down in-bone pork roasts and you know what? I did. That toilet was probably made by the hammers of Hephaestus but porcelain.

In five years I clogged it one time.

ONE TIME.

The next day, flowers arrived from an anonymous donor--maybe not an anonymous donor, I never asked. Mrs. Ho thinks they were from her because it was her birthday. They were my favorite. The red and yellow kinds--kind...I didn't really look at them. Only gay men can really appreciate flowers. In fact, I intentionally avoided their stare on me to prevent a possible gay infection or ... subjugation or... possession of my rock of hetero (sexual). The point is, I'm pretty sure it was the toilet asking for forgiveness for not flushing all that I had given.

Forgiveness!

If you can believe that. It should have been me asking her for forgiveness for not understanding the prize that I had... the magic... the gift from the gods.

And I left it all behind.

Surely you know that because of the spy satellites.

You think I don't see them.

I see them.

I live in space, don't you think I see them?

I see them.

So I left it all behind for a blue house, blue the color of a newborn babies eyes; blue the color of a calm sea; the same blue in Jesus' eyes when he rode dinosaurs and launched death rays in the early days of earth's formation.

I hate it.

I'm sandwiched between an Indian family and a retired couple, so you basically I'm half-way between India and death. Technically, I'm Pakistan. What could be worse than that? Cockinmyassistan comes to mind.

It has three stories... I have to hike up 900 flights of stairs just to masturbate. By the time I get there I'm exhausted and shaking and I don't want to even touch myself anymore.

That's how bad it's gotten.

My toilet is an effete pompadour-wearing lag about with the most tender gag reflex a toilet has ever had and I can't even masturbate.

But how have you been?

pube is not a word in the gmails. confusingly pubes is. i guess why stop at one when you have a good thing.

2009-06-02T15:24:00.001-05:00

Know what would be itchy? A blanket made out of pubes.

Hand stitched.

Brown pubes.

I think they're all brown.

Mine are golden.

A brown pube blanket, hand stitched with white stencils sewn on in the shape of Jesus riding a whale into hell to fight Satan and rescue Socrates from Limbo.

Or a pony.

A white pony grazing on a fine layer of grassy pubes, just enjoying the day. Eating pubes. Plotting evil.

Someone should write a pube-pony poem.

I found this picture of you.

http://monsterdonut.files.wordpress.com/2008/04/moondragon-aquaman.jpg

As regards shitty powers (talking to fish) I thought of one that's a rival. Maybe not shitty, maybe more trivial.

The power to put a pube in your mouth and know if it came from a man or a woman.

Right now I just imagine it's a woman's and eat them.

But if you knew for sure it was a man's pube you could spit it out and feign discuss and assure everyone that no, you're NOT gay and just how the hell did a man's pube get into your mouth?

Invented the wheel. Years ago.

2009-05-31T09:30:00.001-05:00

Know what a bad movie would be?

Blog Day Afternoon.

Some guy sitting around and writing about what a bad experience he had at the Starbucks and then carefully looking for a picture that best depicts his terrible experience.

And it was terrible.

I asked for no foam? It was like that fucking barrista didn't even listen.

It was like this picture only less indeterminate brown people: http://img.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2007/08_03/FoamBeachII2_800x513.jpg

Here's a picture of a bunny made out of foam: http://www.partyshelf.com/images/Easter%20Craft/Bunny_Foam_Cup.jpg

These guys look pretty cool: http://www.executivesurfclub.com/records/images/bubblepuppy.jpg

I have some sad news. I'm a bit hung over. It's like tearing words from my brain and they're in cement. All stuck in there and confusingly there are also Barbie legs and clothes.

Plus I had great plans for yesterday.

One was to get my web site working so my next steps on world domination could continue but like the fucking etard that I am, I could not bend the great girth of the innernets to my will, so now I have to wait longer to dominate. Plus probably technical support. Plus I had a screenplay going to Land of the Lost and Will has come along and stole my idea.

Which is cool, he seems pretty nice. Plus I wasn't doing anything with it.

The other thing was that I was going to see the Jagger girls and probably bed them all but instead I got drunk, turned the AC down to like fifty and bundled up in bed watching some terrible movie with Nicole Kidman.

It was the one where she fights aliens... And can't sleep. Skip it. Terrible. Hated it through the whole thing.

Another thing is I uncovered a word in my brain and it's called sement. Similar to the cement pond but Jethro is all greased up and when you hit the liquid it's thick and you don't want to get any in your mouth or vagina.

Try to use it in your daily conversations.

It's a little awkward to fit into most contexts but sometimes it fits perfectly.

Which is what words are for.

PS I found this web site today while looking for foam. Foam led to bubbles. Bubbles somehow led to this. It's ... disturbing. http://blueboychihuahuas.com/breeding/whelping/sadie/birthofalitter.html

check it, bitches

2009-05-27T09:45:00.000-05:00

http://www.amazon.com/Zombie-Wept-G-W-Jackson/dp/B002ACUJNY/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1243435227&sr=8-2

That's me.

On hamazongs.

I'm drinking early today.

Like every day.

A fine brew the swine flu

2009-05-04T15:24:00.001-05:00

Leave it to the Mexicans to create a pandemic that's too lazy to actually kill anyone.

Struggling to hold up reality for you

2009-04-13T13:17:00.001-05:00

I thought of the funniest thing, today.

It was that I could say, "I'm going to write something today and its so funny."

And I misspell its so that you feel better about yourself and also as a clue that it's going to make you goddamn mad when you see it. But you don't know that part, yet, at this point you're just a little pleased that finally something is here. Life can go on. You are whole once again, for now.

And then I add some ellipses and returns so that you have to scroll all the way down the page to see the funny and then, the humor kicks in and it says, "APRIL FOOLS!!!! LOL, YOUR A FOOL!!!"

Always the way with me. I get mediocre ideas 12 days too late. Woe for the lack of a time machine and extra vaseline.

Well, Easter has come and gone, just like that, and me without my annual happy Easter, Jews! Maybe next year.

We did do some praying this easter as we sat around the table eating food to scare off the Jews (hams). I added the octo mom to my prayers, this year. The prayer goes like this, "Please bless the octo mom that she will fucking die and that rabid dogs eat her nine thousand kids and that monkeys infest her house and you know how dirty they can be."

Seriously.

If you see the octo mom? Look away. She's actually stealing your soul.

It's like the salt monster in Star Trek but with octo she just has to catch you looking at her misshapen lips and she has a bit of your soul and you're going to die sooner.

It's what she does.

And when we pray we let everyone have their say at Easter and so everyone goes around and says things about what they like and want in the future and things from the past and I try not to scoff and roll my eyes while I wait to tell about my things and the octo mom and this year while I was waiting for others to say thier dum things, I was struck with a thought.

In the face.

So after Jesus died (at the hands of the Jews and while you can say the Romans had a hand in it, it was mostly the Jews (which is why they have suffered so much, not because of the Jesus thing, specifically, but because of general evil)) and they took him down and put him in a cave and stuck a rock over it... what did he do in the cave from Friday to Sunday?

I'm guessing for the first 15 minutes he's in there masturbating (which should be called masterbating for people who are really good at it), because, finally... peace and quiet, nobody lurking around to wash his feet and such. Then for the next three days, looking at his watch and wondering where are his peeps.

So much for devotion, they wait 3 days to see if he's really dead?

A good friend would poke you with a stick right after.

Then fuck your wife.

Struggling to hold up reality for you

2009-04-13T13:16:00.000-05:00

Captain of Ass Zit Island

2009-02-06T15:32:00.001-06:00

I found out today that I'm getting rich.

My Cafe Press revenues rolled in today and I don't mean to brag but soon I'll be rich and never write another thing...not that I write so much, these days, but soon the Cafe Press will be cleaning my dirty undies and blowing on my nut sack when it's hot and humid in Omaha and the nut sack is wrinkled and wet.

I can't share the entire sum of the monies that they sent to me, probably just the first part of a much larger check (mind you), but I can say that it was a little more than seven American dollars.

I have decided to use the 7 to pad my recent venture of trying to sell a new invention to a very fickle public. You can tell me that it might not be a good time to try and launch a series of innovative food inventions but I've always been a dreamer.

I was just in Boston pitching my newest idea in the culinary societies and that invention is the Tamprawn. The Tamprawn is a succulent frozen prawn surrounded by an easy to remove plastic applicator. Simply slide off the plastic, drop the prawn onto a ceramic plate, microwave for 45-60 seconds and wala! A meal both sanitary and fit for a king.

Sadly...no buyers.

Thank God for the Cafe Press proceeds.

And welfare.

Happy Xmas, jews!

2008-12-19T11:27:00.001-06:00

Here's a pome I'm going to tell you in Iambic Sucktameter and it's also a true story. The story comes from the anals of the Laureate where I live with Jesus and Bigfoot, who looks after Jesus when they go to the gay bars. Jesus isn't gay but he sure likes to dance.

Ok, he might be gay. He's always hanging around hookers but he never smells of tang.

(Poontang).

i was driving in my car
and it's cold
and icy
and down this steep hill
comes a woman, waxing in and out of my lane
as if to kill me
on go my brakes
and i stop
dead
her?
not so
PLOW
into the island of doom
for her
and loud was the crashing
of glass and street lamps
and there she sat
weeping
and lo i drove by
laughing

I woulda wrote sooner but I was off to get you a Xmas present, Jews. I have the spirit of giving and I got it bad. I was off to find the perfect present and I think I finally found one. A shiny new dildo to replace your careworn dirty dildo from two-holing it all the time.

Two-holing is a term I made up which means filling two holes, one with a dirty dildo and the other with whatever you can find, but not a vacuum tube, cause that can suck things out that are best left there. Inside.

So anyway, I went to the dildo store, trying to get you the biggest, blackest dildo there ever was and I'll be damned if they're not sold out of them!

Sorry, the innernets.

Then I looked for a smaller white one and so expensive! The only one I could afford was a sex offender model and I knew you wouldn't want that one, so covered in all the wrong things.

So, long story short and sorry for the spoilers but I got you a asian dong. It's a bit smaller than you like and it's half flaccid. But the good news is that it's half erect! It doesn't come with this, but you can buy extra if you want to make it full on hard -- Tiger scrotum and Gorilla teeth ground up and rubbed onto the dilds.

It's kinda expensive though, but it's worth it.

Anyway, have a happy Xmas and you know I will too.

Love,

Ho.

I got a joey in my stomach and he kicks real bad

2008-11-06T16:40:00.001-06:00

Did you ever know anyone who, out of an honest and sincere urge to attract the chicks by pretending to have an open mind to all colors, races and black people... did you ever know anyone who voted for a black socialist thinking, nobody is really gonna vote for a black socialist, right?

And then he couldn't go back in time far enough to undo his vote because his time machine only moved forward at approximately the same time as regular time only over the course of a thousand years a little bit faster?

I knew someone like that once.

Also, I'm going to do something for you which I don't normally do and that's public service announcements.

Dear friends of the innernets,

There is a questionnaire that is going around that isn't a questionnaire at all but really a trick by the liberal media to make you admit that you have a drinking problem that you don't really have because you drink for the fun and cause it takes away the pain and bad thoughts that afflict you, otherwise.

The questionnaire is called the cage questionnaire and it looks simple, but it's so simple that you might actually answer with the truth and then you'll be in AA with the drunks and the drunk drivers and the homeless smokers all sitting around drinking bad coffee out of styrofoam cups, smoking too much and trying to outdo one another with how low did I go addiction stories.

I'll take the alcohol, problem, thank you.

Anyway, I'm going to present to you the questions AND the answers, both the wrong answer and the right answer. There are four or five questions and I'm sorry it's a little long but if you care about this issue like I do, you'll pay attention.

Please check the one response to each item that best describes how you have felt and behaved over your whole life.

1. Have you ever felt you should cut down on your drinking?

    * Yes
    * No

The correct answer to this is Yes. The one you need to answer is NO. In fact, laugh a little when they ask you like... cut down? I barely drink as it is. Might as well quit drinking altogether! LOL! Like that will happen. Remember the goal is to keep drinking, not to stop altogether.

2. Have people annoyed you by criticizing your drinking?

    * Yes
    * No

If you're anything like me people annoy you not just by criticizing your drinking but by chewing gum too loudly, getting in front of you when you're driving, wearing socks, talking on those little cell phone things that go in your ear and magically stay there and then talk like they're talking to you but they're really on the phone and you're all, are you talking to me? and you say that in your head and give a puzzled glance but they don't even notice.

So the answer in real life is yes. Who hasn't annoyed us?

The test answer is NO.

3. Have you ever felt bad or guilty about your drinking?

    * Yes
    * No

I feel guilty about everything. I have this new dog and I got her used, from teh craigslist and I was trying to teach her High Five so she could get along with non caucasians and every time I gave her a high five she'd flinch. I guess used means abused, these days and I feel guilty about that. Of course I feel guilty about spending the milk money on vodka, that's a natural and normal feeling to have. Not one to feel ashamed of.

Correct answer?

Nope.

4. Have you ever had a drink first thing in the morning to steady your nerves or get rid of a hangover (eye-opener)?

    * Yes
    * No

I win this one on a technicality. If you drink all night and in the morning you're still going and then you stop when you'd normally be getting up... then I think you're ok if you get up at 6 PM and THEN have the eye opener.

But the real answer they're looking for is No.

Actually they're looking for yes because then you have to pay to talk about your feelings and why you drink and such. Saying No will disappoint them but it's in your best interest to say NO.

You might be tempted to say yes to one of them, but I wouldn't. Saying yes to even one is a red flag. Saying yes to two is instant and total condemnation.

Have a nice weekend unless I hear from you tomorrow.

I love you, God

2008-11-05T15:49:00.000-06:00

I was just reading the youtubes and someone sent me this one and I was all, yes...the blonde one, bring her to me but wash her, first. Especially her hands because girls are dirty on their hands and I don't want that, I strive to be clean and here you can watch it if you want. Really you should. I did.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_GjgZseFRc&feature=rec-fresh

Anyway.

Well, to be honest, I watched this one first:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uHaWCTtQEk

You see, I initially came across this one and I had to shake the unhealthy taste of poverty and despair out of my teefs.

I was all...surfing, click, click http://files.intellisite.com/5/7/4/6/4.jpg omg, noooooooo! Poverty! Ick! Look away!

So then I went to that one ... the 2nd one and I'm all...hmmm, let's see more of this.

Then I'm thinking about bjs from this lady and her ass going and then she's talking about Palin and the two things start clashing. In one court is a soothing bj from a hot dum girl and in the other court is a shrill dumb girl saying on and on about dum things and I say to myself, "Keep it cool, Ho. Keep it cool."

So then I imagine in the bj court me saying softly, "Shhh, shhh, save your politics for after the bj. We'll get a nice coffee and we'll talk about how you're right about the politics. After you hand me three tissues. Then the politics. For now, the bjs. First thing's first. Ahhhh, that's better."

And that works for awhile but the other court gets louder and louder and I can't help it but in the bj court I'm kicking her off my lap and screaming GET OUT. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SLAVE PENS. I WILL HAVE NO MORE BJS FROM YOU, DUMB BLONDE GIRL.

And she's scrambling for her clothes and now it's just politics everywhere and my swoled rod is now gasping for blood and almost dying and I'm considering dialing 911.

So, yeah.

Bjs and politics don't mix.

Unless you're getting one from that cripple girl from facts of life when you can't understand what she's saying anyway. Mmmm, facts of life bjs.

Anyway.

What I meant to say was that I was reading up on the Jesus principles today over lunch as is my wont. Going through the periodicals and I came upon one and it was already colored and I was so damn mad. It's like when you do those puzzles where you have to find the hidden things and some dullard got there and circled them in dark pencil and found them all and you look at it and you say, yes, there's the hatchet. So easy. There's the indian. I could have found that so fast.

But inside your heart is breaking, that's how sad you are because you wanted to find the indian and the hatchet and the ubiquitous sailboat.

That's how sad you are.

Here's the picture, of course the dinosaur is green, I guess people don't read the great literature like Jurrasic Park no more.

http://friendlyatheist.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/jesus-and-dinosaur1.jpg

I can just picture our lord and savior gallivanting about the desert on a triceratops, can't you? God I bet he gave the jews hell, bouncing into their front lines on a T-rex. You just get a sense that if he wouldn't have drove that donkey into Jerusalem when the Jews jacked him, had he been on the T-Rexicon? Totally different. Rexicon, ride! Tonight, we dine on Jew! Like from that movie the 300 when that dead greek says, tonight we dine in hell but in a magic Jesus voice and the thunder cracks and Rexicon's eyes are suddenly red and steam from the nose.

God that would be a good movie.

The last part I must admit some shame to thinking... But I was continuing my Jesus studies and I saw this one and immediately I thought of 9 thousand things but the first was, "What else can you stick in there?"

http://www.allthingsbeautiful.com/all_things_beautiful/images/jesus_christ_on_trial.jpg

The second thing was that movie where the guy is attached to his evil dwarf brother and carries him around on the box and I wish that had been the first thing but it was the second.

Note to self, if Jesus shows me his open, gaping wounds, feel free to jam my dirty fingers into it.

God, I love you.

doctirine is a hard word to spell

2008-11-04T13:54:00.001-06:00

Where do people get there energy, I can't even get out of bed proper.

My neighbor is sawing away on the saw tools, smacking at the earth with his tiller and curbs so the grass don't come over -- stays in its place and it fucks up my nap, I guess I can tell you that much.

Don't get me wrong but the mother fucker could do that at a decent time instead of my nap time which is when he deliberately done it to spite me.

That was yesterday, so-called all hallows.

Today it was some other hummy device that puked stink noise into my house right at nap time and my dogs don't like it either, they bark.

I should kill him.

But, I probably won't.

I celebrated October ending with the thought of another month and I didn't kill noone yet. Not that I ever killed noone but I guess you could call that a suspended amount of good news, like I never been raped before and I have never raped noone, either.

But you never know. I could be raped any day. Some dude comes up to you and bam, raped. Happens every day.

Did you see that Whoopie was on the View, now? I just seen that, too.

Did you see the big V on the View? You think that stands for a vaginar? I think so too.

Not that I'd fuck any of those women on the view, especially not that brown haired, liberal troll from under the bridge who's always scowling and who quit. I wouldn't fuck her to save the universe from communism, that's for sure. Maybe that's her plan. Rosie, that's the name. Rosie Odonawlds.

I guess I'd fuck that crazy republican Hasslebacks. But it wouldn't last, noone can match my conservatism. She would grow fearful of my devotion and eventually scab off.

They all do.

I was going to vote today but then I thought, why should i?

I guess I can't get past the idea that we're losing George.

Remember when I suggested a 3rd term? Well, I guess the liberal media talked him out of running or something because it looks like there will be no 3rd term unless the takes over America by force and I will fight in that freedom's army, you can bet I will.

And what's all this about the Bush doctrine? Why does that matter if you know it or don't know it?

I certainly don't know it. You are not alone, Sarah Palin, I didn't even know he had a doctrine. Maybe Chaney pushed it on him, I don't know.

You ask those fuckers in the middle east if they know the Bush doctrine, I bet you can guess they have a good idea of what points 1 through 11 are.

You go ask those fuckers and then you come back and tell to me about the Bush doctrine and I will drive you around in my Orange Camaro, all around Omaha showing you the sights and we'll drink beer and drive and you will tell me all that you learned and at the end? I'll turn to you? And kiss you right on the mouth.

And maybe it's the kiss of death and maybe it's the kiss of life and I can't dedicate to that right now because I aint heard your side.

Plus I always check the mail when I come in the house. Even if I checked it before because you never know. Even if I got mail out of it 10 minutes ago, if I go by it, I have to peep at it.

Sure I'm wondering if it's rigged to explode and kill me. A furtive glance.

How can you prove that it isn't rigged.

In quantum science there could be a bomb in all of our mail slots which is why I say no. To science. Fuck bombs in my mail, give me prayer and I'll pray that no bombs get in there.

All of this I wanted to say in October.

And more.

But my fucking napping was innerupted by lawn trimmy.

Ok, I'm off to vote and drink vodka cheering the polls.

I hope Ohio doesn't fuck it up, this time.

Fucking Ohio.

Fucking Idaho.

Dear Sweden, thanks for all the glug. We really love glug. Or maybe that's Norway. As if there was a difference.

2008-10-04T11:44:00.001-05:00

I mowed my lawn for the last time of the season. I guess you could say I mowed my lawn for the first time of the season and that would also be true.

I could really use the exercise, I'm afraid I've let myself go.

I used to be sleek and fast like an otter, now mostly I sit and think important things. And eat.

I've come to look a bit like this fellow but with bigger teefs.

http://www.powerofthepens.com/myimages/se7en_gluttony.jpg

It's a fine time when your neighbors are calling the police on you after you've spent the long, hot months protecting them from evil on the innernets and mediocre online prons all the while at a cool temperature of 68 degrees, never able to suck in the strong humid air or feel the blessed sun on your pale, fleckless sin. Skin.

A fine thing indeed, an ounce of respect never asked for, nor never given but in come the police with orders to mow my grass and look presentable and I guess I can see their point of view, I guess if I squint hard I can see it but I'm not in a squinting mood.

I used to have a lawn boy.

He used to come once a week, rain or shine.

In Nebraska we mow even when it rains but this was not true in Salt Lake. In Salt Lake when it rains, it is a rare occasion and we pray. We also prayed when it didn't rain. And when the sun was up. And down. All we did was pray and I guess you could say that's why I don't live there no more.

I was constantly praying for a legal delivery service of young girls with big boobs carrying pizza and beer and then the bjs.

You can be sure that wish was never granted which is one reason I moved.

I used to have a lawn boy and he came by every now and again to mow my lawn and of course he insisted on my lawn mower.

He used to always bust my chops, though. Always in my face with lawn complaints the kinds of which I did not want to be bothered.

He was the lawn boy, after all. Not me. If I was a lawn boy I would mow my own lawn and complain to myself but I am the man on the innernets restraining most evils and eviscerating various comments on chat rooms what needs eviscerating.

"I'm out of gas," he would constantly tell me. "Mr. Ho, you need more gas or I can't mow you're lawn."

Even in conversation he was confusing the contraction you are and a possessive your.

It was maddening.

"Mr. Ho, you're check bounced."

I was empathetic. "I can certainly understand how a check bounce could be upsetting."

Wait, I was not empathetic. I was sympathetic.

Wait, I was not sympathetic, either.

What is it when you're neither empathetic nor sympathetic?

I suppose I didn't give much of a fuck about it at all.

Anyway, I used to have a lawn boy.

Now I mow my own lawns.

Dear the ignorant bastards of America : Yes, you. Dumbass.

2008-10-02T15:33:00.001-05:00

Hello.

One thing I read on the innernets came as such: STOCKHOLM, Sweden (AP) -- Bad news for American writers hoping for a Nobel Prize next week: the top member of the award jury believes the United States is too insular and ignorant to compete with Europe when it comes to great writing.

That was on the CNN.

Here, here, I say. Hear me now, here, here! Here we have someone who knows the truth and the facts about the so-called American intelligentsia and writers. Nothing but liberals and queers writing about feigned trips in the woods hunted by homosexuals and Blair Witches.

Nothing but skinny asthmatics scrabbling their rickety arms at the necks of the chancellors (men of business and import) for ... what is it when you can't get fired from a university? Is it called affirmative action? I think so.

It's about time someone from the nobels shot it straight to the world about every American in the world being a hack writer and not translating enough.

That was one of the things he said, that we don't translate enough.

I know that this does not apply to you, you who are always translating things, but people like me, we don't translate, shit. We're too busy fighting terror and wanting to glimpse a glance of Sarah Palin's underpants and fighting the liberal armies of that Maher guy on HBO and also that fat pig who hates America vis a vis showing anti medical films about how expensive medicine is.

Michael Moore, that's the fat pig.

Shame on you, MM. Medicine in the US? Expensive? Why don't you do us a small favor and to eat someone elses pork while we dine on cheap US of A medicine and you wait in line in Canada or some other liberal country, maybe in STOCKHOLM, Sweden and sit there and wait for your tubal ligation or your gastric bypass.

Good luck to you, my porcine pal.

Back to the nobels, I'm really glad that guy had the nerve to say what has been on my mind for about a thousand years about the state of American writing. It's all bad.

All of it.

Fucking shit.

If American writing were a shit in the sewers of literature, other shits would not deign to even float near the shit of the American writers because that's how bad the American writing shit stinks. Not even a flotilla of Spanish Armada turds would even float by for a broadside into the meaty hunk of the entire body of American shitty writings.

When I think of all of the really great literature coming out of Sweden, too, my blood just boils that Americans can even think about wanting to soil the perfectly good pages of a book, or the innernet while all the Swedish stuff is sailing miles ahead in the river of good writing and literacy and also translation (they have to translate, nobody speaks Swedish but other Swedes (not that nobody wants to speak to Swedes, not at all, it's just how often do you get the chance to polish off your Swedish?))....fuck. Lost again.

Oh, right.

All of the fine, fine things coming out of Sweden that I have been reading.

Let's see.

There's Beowulf.

A damn fine movie. Cartoon, really. And you could kinda see Angelina Jolie's naked titties but in cartoon form. Not that you can't go on the innernets and see them up in real person but the cartoon version has no pesky tats that say I love Billy and such. That's a bit of a buzzkill, isn't it Brad Pitt.

Is this the vagina that Billy Bob Thornton filled with his seed and he laid on you and his old man belly rubbed all hair and old man oils onto your fair skin and now soiled and then you two traded blood and wore it around one anothers necks?

Yep.

Well let me in for seconds!

I'm not saying I'm a jealous man, I just have a rule to stay out of vaginas once plugged by Thornton. I mean he seems a nice enough guy but he looks like he has the hiv dripping off his beard when he talks. Like he just left the methadone clinic and he turned up dirty and he's wondering how he's going to feed his aids until he can get another dose of methadone.

Maybe it's just me.

So there's Beowulf and who was that guy who got his head cut off by a Muslim about a year ago for making that movie that I never saw but I plan on translating some day soon. Was that Sweden?

Where is Sweden? Is that one of those countries in WWII?

Oh, and those pictures that drove the Muslims crazy because it had that bearded guy strapped to some bombs, was that Sweden?

Those were some funny pictures, that's all I know.

Anyway, I hope my nobel is in Math or Medicine or something harder than writing which is so gay especially in America.

Snorting wood putty

2008-09-29T10:31:00.001-05:00

Hi, this is a picture of me at the innernets I found. I was at blizzcon which is a festival for nerds who dress up like not nerds but that makes it omg so much worst.

There are some girls there but they're paid to go. Kinda like prostitutes but not paid as much plus no semen in the mouth, so in a way it's better.

In a way.

Anyway, here's my picture.

http://cdn.chickipedia.com/www/images/thumb/e/e9/Jenna_jameson_letter_4_big_640.jpg/180px-Jenna_jameson_letter_4_big_640.jpg

Wait, that's a picture of Jenna Jameson before she became omgwtf ugly. I'd still have sex with her but it would be an anxious sex borne out of a duty to the past. All of the undead sperms spilled in her honor on all of the discarded socks and bedspreads in all of the hotels of the world (the same ones you cover yourself in when you travel and I been there first).

Here is the picture of me, I had it framed in infamy on the nets.

http://www.riverspirits.org/Group/Galleries/Mixed%20up%20Fey/images/dwarf2.jpg

Your dad and boyfriend came with me. Your boyfriend looks rill good in pink.

One bad term I seen lately is torsion of the testicle. That means that one or two of your nuts is all twisted and can't breath. You get it from being married, so be careful. I think I got it. I'm not sure how you get it but I hear it's bad when you do. Avoid it if you can. (Marriage, that is). (I know, too late).

Here's a picture of boys who play girls on the innernets. They can be found on the WoW and also anywhere you find someone saying, "LOL, I'm totally a girl, look at my big titties and I have no body fat but I'm not so skinny as that ashley girl what pukes up dinners and such" and then they link you to some hot girl. Anyway, here they are.

http://www.gotfrag.com/files/upload/galleryimage_25106_f.jpg

Here's a picture of Mccawleny Culkin with a young girl in purple panties. I suspect she's at least 18, though.

http://l.yimg.com/img.tv.yahoo.com/tv/us/img/site/21/85/0000022185_20060921165324.jpg

Here's a picture of geeks out of costume:

http://www.gameblog.fr/images/jeux/0/blizzcon1_Cosplay001.jpg

Thank god I'm not a geek. I'd probly sit around playing warcraft all day and start an online blog.

I bet priests get real happy when young ones die. Like women with kids and such. Young kids. Anyone, really, because that's why they have jobs to send people off to heaven and such, but I bet they get so bored when the old ones die and they sit up there and he had such a good life, and the war he fought in and his grandkids, god he loved his grandkids and long good life and god the grandkids.

That must be stultifying.

I bet when the young ones die, they find a challenge and get to say new things, surrounded by family in their hour of need, carry on witht he help and support of the lord and the church, struggles in life, god's way, etc.

Plus I bet young funerals draw a bigger crowd and who doesn't want to be listened to. When the olds die, who knows them but other dead old people? There should be a service to hire pall bearers such that you paid 6 strong men to carry your corpse around and cry.

Plus what is it with Catholics standing and kneeling and sitting? Pick a position and stick to it, man. (That's what I yell out in sex whenever I have it (right, a phrase not oft uttered from my tongue)).

Anyway, happy Monday and such. I hope you don't die, today. Unless you're osama bin laden.

Oh, know what else?

I'm celebrating Ramadong. It's like Ramadan, but my dong is out of my fly as much as possible.

Take that, b'laden.

This is today

2008-09-25T14:26:00.001-05:00

I done some innernet searching, looking for pictures of myself and I seen some things. Some are inneresting, some are not (to you).

Here's picture of Melinda Gates that someone drew. I'm not sure what to add more than it's a real picture that someone really drew. Maybe at a retard convention for IT professionals who support retards with advanced technology. Maybe not.

http://www.betterworld.net/heroes/portraits/gates.jpg

Here's a picture of your so-called boyfriend:

http://www.cornichon.org/archives/Gluttony%20demon.jpg

This is when we elope (I'm the strong one): http://www.arsnautilus.com/kittelsen/keptar/album/slides/futen.htm

Here's a picture of your mom and dad (your bio dad, not the one you call dad) on the night you was conceived (your girly dad is on top): http://www.arsnautilus.com/kittelsen/keptar/album/slides/Ikke_Kjorende_Og_Ikke_Riden.htm

This is bears: http://www.arsnautilus.com/kittelsen/keptar/bjornejakt.jpg

This is the dark flow of the universe through the eyes of anime: http://blog.seiha.org/images/ninomiya10/ninomiya10_40.jpg

This is me taking a nap: http://francofile.blogs.com/francofile/images/gluttonchampagnolles.jpg

Not sure what these are, but I liked them: http://latin.bestmoodle.net/media/1501dogmeat.jpg and http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/steel/punjab/37.gif I think the last one is about outsourcing wood but I'm not sure.

I will track you down and make you love me or it will be the death of you

2008-09-25T14:03:00.001-05:00

I read this in the news, today: Patches of matter in the universe seem to be moving at very high speeds and in a uniform direction that can't be explained by any of the known gravitational forces in the observable universe. Astronomers are calling the phenomenon "dark flow."

Apparently the universe is menstruating and not only menstruating but the flow is abnormal.

It's the universe
that has a dark, heavy flow
and we are tampons

Also this: The 29-year-old former "American Idol" runner-up, multiplatinum recording artist and Broadway star credits his son, conceived by in-vitro fertilization with friend and producer Jaymes Foster, with making him realize that he could no longer hide his homosexuality from the world.

Hide...from the world?

No, no, my friend.

The world knew.

The world certainly knew. We (speaking for the world (but not the muslims because they're crazy and will cut your gay throat) (also will some Catholics but not the priests, thank god)) were worried it was you want didn't know you was gay.

We knew all along.

Now you may start legitimates with the Clay Gayken or the Gay Aiken, but please no Gay Gayken, that's too much.

Plus, know what else? He's a born again xian. I seen that in the magazines articles. And he's worried about that he'll be judged from the in veetros.

It's a good thing the born agains never have problems with the gays, otherwise he'd be in a heap of trouble.

Shit, can you believe it's already tomorrow?

Hadron, not Hardon. Remember it.

2008-09-22T11:19:00.000-05:00

On 9/11 the CERN hadron superconductor had a break down that put it out of commission for months. Maybe 2 months and that's why the world hasn't ended.

I think that we can look at the date 9/11 and safely assume that the spirits of the freedom fighters from the 9/11 towers of freedom intervened on our behaves (we of the United States of America and the rest of the world can thank us that our spirits are also fighting for your safety, yes even Canada).

I believe the Holy Ghost rallied the undead spirits of the dead to derail the little particles as they zoomed along. The Holy Ghost has power over all of the dead, that's why he's called the Holy Ghost. Especially if they die in service to our country--that's extra holy.

Plus, why do doctors always come see you at 5 AM in the very morning every day after a surgery and you're in the hospital? "How you feeling?"

"It's five in the morning, how do you think I'm feeling. Like shit. Come back at noon."

Jesus.

It's not rocket science?

Only those aggressively successful people feel good at 5 AM and really, fuck them. Let the passive lazy people get some wins every once in awhile? Come by later and if I'm awake (and don't wake me if I'm not) then I'll tell you how I'm feeling.

After all, doctors, I am paying you. You don't pay me. Maybe if you gave me some free blood or something I wouldn't mind so much.

Brb.

K, back.

This just happened, I was getting in the bath and it was a hot bath as I prefer and I was going to wash everyone's AIDS off of me when i noticed there was a big, fat spider sitting on the edge and it was surely contemplating suicide.

I took the spider aside and I said, no, no, you have so much to live for, all the egg sack babies and plus you're good at killing mosquitoes, my priest tells me that about you little guys and probably lots of other things... scaring kids, and well, lots of things.

And I could see I was reaching him because the little guy was backing away from the edge and I could see a sense of pride in his gait and that's when I squished him.

To kill something that lacks hope and purpose is one of the smallest acts of a small mind.

Like mine.

Sara Palin has bad dnas (retard babies)

2008-09-16T11:47:00.001-05:00

I want to go back in time and kill Michael Palin before he's born or before he becomes newsworthy. He's really fucking up my search to find nudes of Sarah Palin on the googles. Every time I see some skin it's his skin and he's treking around the world like I could give a shit. Maybe if he stayed around America and Omaha I'd watch that show but I don't want to see no brit going around the fucking Middle East eating falafals. If I want to see that I'll read the fucking bible. (I have it memorized at least the good parts (the new testes)).

Cause really, fuck the old testes. That's just dead jew stories.

Also, what the hell with clamato? What is it? I mean I understand it's clam juice in tomatoes, but dear god, why? Did we just have so much clam juice laying around? Even so, who said, "this is a good idea, we take the clam juice...clam juice? where does that even come from? juicy clams?...we take the clam juice and we pour it in the tomatoes and we sell it as a nifty combo of clam juice and tomato juice."

They they all nodded their heads.

Plus it just tastes like tomato juice. Or maybe V8. I don't taste no clam juice. At all. Plus I bet clam juice tastes like shit. I'll bet a million on that one.

Can you imagine a beer bong but with clam juice?

I can too.

I'll bet the room would smell of clams and vomit.

I'll bet the chicks would flock to a clam juice bong party. Especially the real skinny ones who no matter how little they eat can't feel good about how skinny they are. And the goth chicks with pierced nips and a hunger for self-destruction.

God I miss my youth.

Might as well make pussy juice tomato juice. Plamato. It'd still taste like V8 but maybe you'd have pubes in it. Like they'd get stuck in your teefs and when you smiled all your friends would know that you've been drinking Plamato and beer because the last time you had your face that close to real pubes was maybe six years ago when you were richer and drinking less.

I wish I was a heroin addict instead of all the booze. People would say, "there, there, leave him be, can't you see he has a rig in his arm and a drug problem?"

Now they just say, get up and go to work.

They don't even care that I have a hangover and that I'm going for a world records in consecutive hangovers and I appear to be winning that record but there's still a lot of work left to do.

Also, I'd like to plum my toilet with hot water and I don't mean just pure hot but warm water but I'm not good with tools.

I think of the poops coming out and splosh and I get kind of sad. I bet it's a bit of a shock going from a nice warm body and then into the cold sploch of the stool. I would hate that.

The poops do such a good service you should let them ease out and let them get used to the new environment gradually.

Lifting weights on Friday is for suckers

2008-09-11T17:09:00.001-05:00

So we live another day.

I suppose that's good news.

Good enough.

I would have told everyone we was all still alive yesterday but I got drunk and called in sick. I didn't want to waste my sick days on oblivion nor the doomsday.

Joke was on me, my friends.

I suppose that's good news.

I was reading that the CERN had done just some tests and that they was rill gonna go hard at another test later down the road. Like tomorrow or next week.

Apparently they went with the counterclockwise smashing and that at some later date?

That's right.

Clockwise smashing.

If you think about it, that's moving from talking to a left handed retard about particle physics to talking to a right handed pinch hitter about spit balls.

Bit step up in the leagues, my friends. Big step up.

I think the not ending of the world put me in a mood. Or it's this weather. It feels like the middle of August. It's steamy and sultry and there isn't anyone even around to have sex with. It's like a sex murder mystery movie without the sex or the murder or the mystery. Like a real boring sex murder mystery. I'm not even sure if I should turn on the air or the heat. It's not hot enough to have the air but it's so humid. I could turn the heat on but I'm sure that would kill me. A bad mixture of humidity and excess heat with a dubious lack of sex and murder.

Happy nine eleven.

How many years do you have to put the flag and half staff after this sort of thing? Do they still do it for pearl harbor? Will there ever be a day in the future where the flag never goes full on head steam because of terrible tragedies?

I hate the flag at half staff, I always wonder and worry.

What has happened that makes us do this half staff thing?

I'll be the al queidas sit around and say this quite often, "Remember back when we blew up those building?"

"LOL. That was fun."

"Yeah."

"Real fun."

"I know."

"We should do that again."

"I know."

Then they clean the cave or whatever it is they do.

Maybe pray. They pray a lot. Nine times a day, I hear.

Maybe CERN isn't doing anything. Maybe they got a finance to do 3 years of digging a hole in the dirt with fancy circuits and wires. Maybe they bought everything and installed the circuits and dug the holes and then took the rest of the money and spent it on scientific bjs and pop tarts and snack cakes.

It's what I'd do.

Then they tell everyone, "We smashed some adams, today. Counterclockwise. Went real good. I think the big bang is just about right. A few more tests and we might find the left hand of Jesus down there in that big hole."

"Tomorrow we're gonna reverse the polarity. I don't think it will blow up the world but science can't prove that to 100%. We could do this shit for ten years."

CERN is a French word. Not sure what it means but it's in the news.

Plus that cripple scientist says it won't cause the doomsday.

But if I was a cripple since 22 I'd say that too. Nothing to worry about here. All the while I'm praying for doomsday because I have a robot voice and I have to beg for sex in a awful robot voice.

He has a hundred dollar bet. Well it's probly pounds. But I call them dollars because fuck England.

Know what else?

What's blue ray? And why do I give a shit about it. Will it make my dick harder? No, it will not.

Fuck blue ray.

Fuck CERN.

One good thing, though, is sausages.

Eat em.

Not shaving my balls, after alls

2008-09-09T16:49:00.001-05:00

I think I just may have saved us all. No need to kill ourselves while we wait for sudden death because I have come up with a formula that will thwart the doomsday device that CERN done.

Quick, someone get Spenser on the horn. It's about time he done something to make up to what he done to us via Heidi Montag.

Have him get with CERN and tell them to put this in their formulaes:

e=mc^2^n where n is some quanta value of faith plus medicine plus magic, some secret constant which I will reveal here to you to be 8.

Oh, thank god I figured that out, I was getting downright morose.

Plus someone sent me the worst email ever. Some kind of evil email. Evail. I wish I could forward it to you.

Maybe I'll shave my balls

2008-09-09T16:09:00.001-05:00

Dear everybody who didn't send me anything for my birthday thank you for fucking that up so bad.

We went on without you but it sure would have been nice to have got some good things from you.

In a way I'm kind of glad you're going to die tomorrow in the black hole.

I'm not bitter but I just think you should treat your friends better and if it takes your death to teach you that lesson then I guess you kind of deserve it for being ugly and selfish.

I wasn't going to write anymore what with the end of the world so soon and all but then I figured, why not. Might as well clog up the ether with a bit more flotsom before my body turns into a small cell of jelly goo.

I'll probly end up as one of the bigger goos because I'm a big fat pig.

People keep telling me that I've been looking pretty buff but I think they mean fat. It kind of looks like the joker installed a bomb device in my stomach but he didn't.

I could probably help by drinking less but I'm an alcoholigst and it would really fuck up my career. Not that it matters with the end of the world coming but it's good to see things through the end.

I'm a little afraid to die from black holes as we get near to it.

What worries me is waking up in the middle of the night and thinking, oh my god, what's all this sudden pressure on my chest? Oh my god, CERN! What have you done!

That must be a terrible moment.

I'd probly wake my wife up.

Honey, do you feel that terrible pressure on your face and chest?

No, it's not me. This time.

It's CERN. They're vikings from the past coming to the future to bring around Ragnaraok. Ragn..aroki. Ragnaagogoo.

Doesn't it hurt and feel terrible? I'll say that to her. Just that way. If I can get the words out of my mouth unless it's like The Black Hole in Disney and we all just float to heaven with our robots and fancy music. In that case I'll just pat her arm gently and tell her to go back to sleep.

But I bet it isn't like that. I bet it's more like, omg pressure omg, can't breathe, damn you CERN and then death.

I'm a bit anxious about it.

Maybe I should just kill myself before it happens.

Get it out of the way.

I'll miss Brittney Spears. The old Brit, not the new stable one who covers her vaj with proper pink panties. Who cares about someone who does all the right things? That's very boring. Give me the drunken crotchless Brits any day.

Maybe I should update my living will.

Oh my god, all the unborn babies that will die! Like one giant abortion. Palin and Fallwell are gonna be so mad about that. For a few seconds. I bet that's their first thought. The unborn children where life begins at conception and now this black hole!

Maybe I'll just drink and work on fan fiction.

Here's a query I wrote for work that doesn't work. Please fix it.

select * from dual where sysdate > sysdate -100;

I should shower and work out on the last day of life.

Enjoy this Monday, it's probly your last

2008-09-08T16:32:00.000-05:00

My mortgage is due but I ain't payin it.

Not until after Wednesday comes and goes cause that's the day the world is supposed to end again. I figure if I have to die, might as well go out with a positive value in my bank account and just a little bit in the overdraft protection account.

I don't want to go into heaven in my orange camaro in debt.

That would be a awkward thing to say to Peters. About the debt. And me in this new orange camaro. How to justify that?

So I'll just let sleeping dogs like and if Peters asks why I'm behind on this month's I'll remind him about the free 15 day grace period before the 1.5 percent penalty kicks in.

That should cover my bases.

On that score, anyway.

So I say to myself, what the fuck is CERN, anyway? And how have they been able to build a doomsday device without the world knowing it and where are they, anyway? CERN sounds kinda like Europe, right? Probably it's the Danes. All that winter and what the fuck, let's blow up the world. Why not?

And all this time we're looking for WMDs in Iraq? Not that it wasn't a swell idea to invade Iraq, they had it coming for a long time, and we might as well see if we can get a 2 day war going with Iran and Russia and Kuwait (but not our good friend Pakistan who stand with us shoulder to shoulder against terror) since the world is ending anyway.

Might as well.

And all this time we're looking for WMDs in Iraq and the CERNs in Sweden are building a doomsday device.

Fucking NATO.

Mother fucking ... what's the name of the one in New York we hate so much that just takes our money and eats our crackers?

The United Nations.

Once again we see that those big country organizations are totally worthless. Let's try and disband them in the next 2 days, if possible.

Well, not NATO, we may need them for the war with Russia we might as well have.

If you had asked me to list the top three ways in which I MIGHT die? Death by black hole would not have made the short list. Long list, sure. Not top three. Running from the cops was number two.

Now it doesn't matter.

What really makes me sad is that that hawt VP chick (the one with the retard baby) isn't gonna get into office. I never wanted to fuck a Vice President of the US, before. Well, other than Dan Quayle. God I wanted to fuck him. I wanted to stand face to face, totally naked, dong heads pressed firmly against one another like two proud football warriors ready for battle -- and then the hip thrusting rage and all the pounds dink to dick until one of us is concave and one of us is vexed and both bloody and sweet relief (at least I think that's how the gays do it) (the gays that don't want anal like me and all the Vice Presidents).

But I guess that's never going to happen.

Fucking NATO.

The hiv is fine; beware the aids

2008-09-03T14:46:00.001-05:00

I seen a death tent at the cemetery just the other day and I was wondering at what point they decide to do the death tents. Used to be when you died they just stood around and there you were dead and under the sun or in the cold and now they have the death tents and everyone jams into them and it's more civil.

Why can't I be a member in good standing on the death committees and the death business. I wonder if there's a catalog. I wonder what it's called.

Those undertakers are soberly taking the money and they talk about the humanity of the death tent.

I should be an undertaker.

I should make the death tents.

Should I die, don't you put me under a death tent and also give my body to science and when they send back my brain and skull cause who wants that then mount it on a naked mannequin (like from that movie) and tape some hair to the chest and strap a monkeys tail on my dong area and say, look, here lies a once proud man, now just head, chest hair and massive donkey dong.

I went to the DMV.

People are ugly at the DMV, that's fact. (This includes the scab faced helpers (I'm sorry to say that but they did have the scab faces and that's a cold fact.))

I think the rich people hire the poor and ugly or just the ugly to go stand for them in DMV.

I seen some fellas who was young and in the wife beater shirts and hats and when the hats came off for pictures they had buzz or crewcuts and they was mostly unwashed.

Also was the old geezers and they stood there like they had somewhere to go but they didn't have nowhere to go. You could see it in their eyes, the panic and despair. There so early. Standing in line avoiding eye contact of the Mexicans. All the old ones.

And the big gals there, too. Tanks and the bra strap showing with the fat rolling over the denim shorts and a tat on the breast, maybe it's the baby name or a cosmos or star system or seahorse or a snake. Maybe it's a heart with an arrow, it's all the same right there on the boob and you can see it plain enough, or part of it and you have to wonder if she has Wild Ride in fancy cursive in the inner thigh to the gateway of delight.

Not that I look down on that, but maybe it could be in Latin or Greek, some kind of translation. Maybe it could be an honest promise, too, not some dim translation from Latin to lies.

Maybe it's on the panties or just at the top of them and you see it and your Latin floods back.

But not at the DMV.

Furthermore, I have discovered the source of aging, it's music. It pulls you along into death.

I was at Disneyland and they played classic rock and it was songs from when I was a teenager and it was then that I understood that death came wearing a Terry Bozio outfit. Jelly bracelets and net shirts.

If I could cut that part of my brain I think I might get through.

God I love you so bad

2008-08-13T10:32:00.001-05:00

I've taken to posting once a quarter. I find it cuts down the amount of bad writing on this site by approximately 87%, plus or minus 13%.

I've been working on my long term goals. I am nothing without them. I'm fastidious to a fault. Mr. Fastidious I'm called in some circles. I also do the short terms but it's the long terms that really set the tone. I'll share my list with you this quarter and next quarter maybe I'll give you a business update of my work productivity levels over the quarter and also a bullet points of key accomplishments and the goals for the next quarter.

But this is just personal goals.

The short term goals:

1.) Continue plan to live forever. So far, no major obstacles. (This is also a long term goal)
2.) Drink tonight. Make sure I have enough alcohol so that I just remember going to bed (passing out).
3.) Play video games instead of what I should be doing...watching the olympics and cheering on America against everyone particularly the Japs and Chinamen.

I'd watch the olympics more but that braggart swimmer makes me bust out in a fury and his broad shoulders and well formed pecs makes me wonder if I have the gays.

4.) Rename ALS back to Lou Gehrig's disease, find the guy who tried to make it ALS and teach him not to tamper with good things by dipping his face in acid.

Long terms:

1.) Rewrite list of people I can have sex with as per my wife's approval. Add your name. Remove Cindy Lauper and Madonna before statues kick in which will force me into the sexuals with them.
2.) Write the Guy Richie I-so-fucking-told-you-so letter. Perhaps move this to the short term list.
3.) Develop a vaccine that will cure both the gays and the Jews. Sell them as separate products named Gay be Gone and Jew be Gone, rake in the money from the gay Jews. Feel a tinge of regret.
4.) Invent something that will suppress regret and name it advanced scotch 3000.
5.) Go to Hawaii.
6.) Develop a taco and bj dispensing machine. Self cleaning!!!

And that's about all that's new with me.

I got a new dog.

I promise I did not steal your things while you were gone last weekend

2008-07-08T16:47:00.001-05:00

I'm thinking about writing another book and I have a title, already and it will be called, Donde Esta Waldo (except with real Mexican accents on Esta (I looked it up on the wiki on how to spell Esta)).

It will be an instruction manual and it will be for the INS and the freedom fighters of California and Arizona who protect our borders on their own time and in their own lawn chairs...it will be a book showing Waldo sneak across into the borders and ruin our legal system and threaten our way of life by taking those sweet meat packing jobs.

In the first pic, he'll actually have a meat packing uniform on and you'll see his greedy face as he tiptoes across the border and in one of his hand he's bringing drugs and the other hand is pushed slyly down the front of his trousers.

Or something, I haven't figured out the second hand but in the first hand, definitely drugs.

The second picture is Waldo sneaking into a hospital trying to get free medical service and in the third he's crossing back over the border and he's carrying a sack full of money in a wheelbarrow and there's a crowd of rich Mexicans on the other side and they're laughing and pointing at America.

I was gonna have the title Waldo Esta Stealing your land but I didn't know most of the words for that.

Also, I was in Chicago and I seen Oprah. I think it was Oprah cause it was a limo and I guess it could be Steadman and I waved of course. I guess it could have been Gail and that ain't such a big thing, but I bet she don't take limos.

I bet she has a sedan. A tan sedan or a Lexus S-15i.

Also, there are lots of non whites in Chicago (blacks and browns and asians) and you can't just cross the road to avoid them (like we do in Omaha), but you have to stare straight ahead and not make eye contact for that's how they get you.

Eye contact.

I got a friend in Idaho and he assures me it's Iowa but I ain't too sure

2008-06-10T17:02:00.001-05:00

God do I have a spate of bad news to deliver you. I been saving it up so that I could get three things because bad news travels in 3s.

First thing is this: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080610/ap_on_sc/indonesia_fishing_macaques;_ylt=Ardndtve52QDZERVnCoeFvCs0NUE

In case you're like me and don't read the news much I'll just tell you the headline: Scientists find monkeys who know how to fish.

That's right, those fucking monkeys are at it again. I'm not sure why they don't just order the robots to get the fish...maybe it's the short circuiting issues involved in electricity and water and then the brain wave patterns must go swervy. That's probably it.

So now the monkeys are stealing our food supplies and killing our fish friends and you don't do nothing about it because you love monkeys so much. Don't cry to me when you're covered in monkey dungs.

The second bit of bad news is that in addition to hating America and being a Muslim, Barak Obama isn't even a black. Apparently he's a white man with black makeup. They used to do that in the old days and then sing and dance and it looks like the past is coming back to haunt us in the future. Just like that movie.

This is not a rumor it's fact. Please don't try and refute it, cosmonauts. Take it back to space with you, serious.

And the final bit of bad news is that Heidi Montag is finally going to marry Spenser! LOL THAT'S ACTUALLY GOOD NEWS, AND I'M SO HAPPY FROM THIS GOOD NEWS.

The bad part of that news is I still don't know who Heidi Montag is, or Spenser or why they are on Us magazine every week or how she could be going back to marry him when after just 8 episodes ago he had betrayed her.

That's what it said, he betrayed her.

I didn't make that up.

God my neck has been sore, I worry I have hepatitis or Lou Gehrig's disease.

God I want to like Bright Eyes but that fucking Whiny Connor Oburst WON'T LET ME LIKE THEM

2008-06-05T13:24:00.001-05:00

I'm fucking furious about this lesbian kissing situation in the stands at a baseball game and I read it on CNN and I saw that the blogsphere is furious and I'm god damn furious, too.

At a baseball game? Can't we go anywhere these days without lesbians kissing other lesbians? I am the blogsphere and I'm fucking furious about this situation.

Know what else?

I'm furious about this Milo Cyrus girl and her nude photos in Vanity Fair. I was so furious that I immediately looked them up to see what her nipples looked like and I'll be honest with you, I've seen more nudity on the boy models in the local Big and Tall shops (I buy my condoms and briefs and dong warmers there).

I'm not saying I wanted to see a naked body of a young fifteen year old woman developing into a young nubile woman because that is against the law and you can go to jail for even saying, can I have a picture of Milas Cyros' nipples, please.

And damn right.

Who wants to see the young body of a wrinkleless girl whose body is untouched by the poisoned dagger of time and the sun's dead rays and the money shots of time's rampant rampage of all things which start out nice and eventually turn to shit via entropy and bad plastic surgery?

Not me.

Jesus, that lesbian situation has me furious. I don't know why they weren't taken from the stadium and taught what it is to have real love between a man and a woman at a lesbian reclamation center. That's what I'd have done. Taken back to the man what's rightfully his. The gays you let go, they are beyond cure but not the lesbians. They have the light of the future glowing on their breasts. At least the pretty ones. Not the man-lesbians. They go the way of the gays for they are considered untouchable in the lesbian reclamation centers.

But seriously, the government, don't prosecute me for looking at Vanity Fair, I was only looking out of the fury of where are the morals of society? Why can't a Disney star remain simple and good instead of being a big fat whore in the cunt cradle of Sodom? I promise you, the government (and the state police), that if there had been nipples I would have looked everywhere but there (unless they were painted on nipples like that one Demi Moore picture but she was an adult at the time, so I'm allowed to peep them titties (unless she's nursing in public and then that should be against the law because who wants to see a breast with a baby attached to it? That's wrong and is against God's law (he told me))))))))))))))).

So furious.

I worry I'm going to have a fury stroke and then be all left hand crippled like the retards down at the homeless shelter and then I'm suddenly begging for food instead of exploding the blogsphere in furor and truth of opinion.

I'm so furious I might threaten the life of the future democratic president. LOL! Just kidding, government, I'll let Jesus himself kill the future democratic president with a holy wrath of the unborn children killed in abortions. Ho knows how Jesus rays burn down the unrighteous and liberals.

I'm so furious that the Arabian peninsula is bunged up with all those fucking Arabs. It would be a great place if not for all those Arabs.

But instead of explaining why I'm right about that I have to go take some valium and pray that i don't have a fury stroke.

I love you.

If you're white.

And young.

But not too young.

Paper clips ate jelly beans

2008-05-29T10:15:00.001-05:00

What day is it?

Mondays off really fuck me. Fridays are the best day off because you're already hung over and such from Thursday. At first I'm like, fuck yeah, free Monday. Then all of a sudden it's Thursday but I'll be damned if it really isn't Wednesday in some alternate universe and for what? Labor day? Is that what it was? I wish I knew.

Anyway, one thing I wanted to say was this: I FUCKING NEW IT AND I TRIED TO TELL YOU AND YOU SIMPLY WOULD NOT LISTEN.

Read it and weep, mom and dad:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/TECH/science/05/29/monkey.robots/index.html

For anyone who doesn't have the innernet access I'll print here the headline which will confirm my years of protesting against keeping any monkey alive: Monkeys control robots with their minds.

On CNN.

The threat is real.

The threat is here and the threat is real.

The threat is hairy and it will throw orange wedges at you.

The threat stinks of humidity and urine, even.

As if robots weren't bad enough because they are bullet proof and can crush a man, now we see monkeys control them (like I long suspected).

Don't say I didn't warn you when the future is a mess of monkey shits and robots. Robots making monkey noises and gamboling around on the ground while the monkeys control the air via vines like in that Indiana Jones movie where the young Turk confusingly swings through the trees (spoiler alert en reverse).

Don't say it.

Do not say it. That I didn't warn you.

Just don't.

Because I did.

Also, I don't get to the news much but I guess that old Kennedy has a brain tumor?

Haven't I been saying that all along? For years, really. I hate to say I told you so but I guess I did. Sorry for rubbing it in your face but sometimes we all need a little humility lesson and today is your day.

Really, I guess all democrats have brain tumors. That's what I've been saying because you just look at all of the Mexicans coming over the border into the loving arms of California democrats and you say to yourself, you keep that brain tumor, Mr. California liberal.

On a final note, the sands of medicority have settled to the bottom. There's a Starbucks in Lincoln, NE and now we know that the sands are all in place. Don't get me wrong, I like a good coffee as much as the next guy. But really, when it's in Lincoln, NE...when a trend reaches Lincoln then there really is nowhere to go from there because you're firmly in the silt.

Your feet are firmly in the silt.

All of everything cannot but should be safely ignored

2008-05-27T17:57:00.001-05:00

The Hardy Boys were misunderstood geniuses. Both of them.

Can you please explain to me how a group of time traveling aliens with hyper magnetic skeletal systems, long distance telepathy and their very own interdimensional flying saucer could let a fucking Mexican pry off one of their heads and run to Peru?

Spoiler alert.

The new Indiana Jones movie? Instead of seeing it you should go around and suck derelict cock in the park. You'll have a better time and you'll leave with a better taste in your mouth.

Know what else?

I go to CNN the other day and there's this article about how some robot space ship is sending pictures back from space or Mars and I'm a nerd so I eagerly click the link and I run for my light saber collection just in case I have to fight evil and what do I see?

Black and white pictures of Mars.

It could be my grandparent's vacation pictures from Bryce Canyon.

We can send a fucking space probe to Mars and we can't send a fucking color camera? Who is the rocket scientist who schemed that deal?

Color camera? Mars? It's all red, who needs a color camera! LOL!

The Hardy Boys were misunderstood geniuses. The negro one. Dark and impervious to time and light.

Remember when I was sober? Neither do I.

2008-05-16T12:14:00.001-05:00

Did you hear that the gays can marry again?

God damn liberal California.

I'm furious.

Look at how red my face is.

It's red with swollen fury. It's like an engorged cock what's just about to spray semen somewhere (anywhere) but instead of semen my mouth is about to spray spit asking, "What the fuck is this gay situation in California, Arnold Schwarzenegger, you fucking liberal-in-the -great-coat-of-republican armor?"

Who elected those judges, anyway?

Be sure that I didn't vote for the bastards. I am red with the red blood of republican right. That's how red my blood is. Red, the color of truth. Truth is red and backed by violence and that's how furious I am. The fury of the question, now the gays can marry again?

That's how furious and I might die from apoplexy which is not how I was planning on going out?

Where is George Bush?

Where is the militia?

Where is those guys what patrol the border and kill the Mexicans and keep them from getting our jobs? The patriots. The heroes?

Why cannot they all set up a march and set up a giant wall to wall in the gays in the Frisco. And while they're at it, why not wall in all of the Frisco and trap all the gay lovers and blue left wingers. Blue blood from what lacks the red hemoglobes of righteous truth. That's how blue they are.

We're laughing at your pale blue, libs.

So then someone just sent me an instant message and I was all, did you hear about the gays and they was all, yes, and the dykes (he spelled it dike but I'm pretty sure he meant the dykes). I was not told that both can be married but now I'm filled with almost two x the fury but I'm not so furious about the dykes. Not so much as two times but more like 48%.

It's the men what really rub it in our faces. Rub their gays in our noses. Oh, it makes my nose itch to sneeze out their gay fumes, I'll tell you.

Let me ask you a rhetorical question.

If you seen a dog in the street trying to give it to a coke can, would you kick them apart?

You're damn right you'd kick them apart. It ain't natural for a dog to lie with a coke can. It'd cut his corkscrew dong, then the vet bills? Jesus.

Let's ask another to really drive the point home.

What if you was at the zoo and a condor swooped down and started really going on a gorilla such as you couldn't get in the cage to kick them apart. Then let's say the condor busts out a cig and blows the smoke right in your face and says, "Me and me mate is gonna wed and there's not a thing you can do about it because we are in California."

Is that natural?

Is it natural for a condor and a gorilla?

Or for a condor to smoke?

It leads to sin, you see.

It all leads to sin.

Dear the gays,

Please stop blowing smoke in our faces.

Sincerely,

Ho and everyone who digs a bit of cock suckie but boy on girl unless it's experimental and only temporary.

But I did see The Police and they was good, but everyone except me looked like a walking corpses. Police fans, your days are numbered.

Sincerely,

Ho.

Other people's vacations sure do piss me off

2008-05-13T17:00:00.001-05:00

Ah, mother's day, come and gone. The day you do everything your wife tells you ... just like every other fucking day in the year except that on this day you buy her presents before she tells you what you are to do.

I found a picture of your boyfriend, you two are such a cute couple. Here he is. I think he's looking for you somewhere.

http://d.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/p/nm/20080513/2008_05_13t135835_450x318_us_mexico_obesity.jpg?x=400&y=282&sig=B93mGeCsQM1VF8Ji0JX_dg--

Here's a picture of his scrotes. I know I said I wouldn't publish them on the innernet but they're just so adorable and you and me are so one of mind I was sure you didn't care:

http://d.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/p/nm/20080513/2008_05_13t135906_450x296_us_mexico_obesity.jpg?x=400&y=263&sig=BG3EoZgdBmG1L_mwwGQwmw--

Here's a picture of a tree:

http://i.treehugger.com/images/2007/10/24/pz-TH-Tree-Nation.jpg

And here's one in New Zealand where the Hobbit lives:

http://www.artists4kids.com/images/gallery/NapoleonTree_l.jpg

This is feet:

http://www-tc.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/mummy/images/ikra-03-feet-l.jpg?mii=1
http://img.alibaba.com/photo/11347315/Chicken_Claw_And_Feet.jpg
http://www.nocaptionneeded.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/10/paki-feet-dead.png
http://www.photoshoptalent.com/images/contests/feet%20feet%20feet/fullsize/feet%20feet%20feet_480a11bec9ce8.jpg

This is a real web site: http://www.ldscoloringpages.net -- I tried to do some coloring here but the colors black, brown and Mexican were missing. So I drew a picture of me in heaven during a show storm.

This is how we do science if you know how to do it right. Do it wrong and science will poke your face off. http://msucares.com/pubs/publications/images/p1686-2.gif

Do you ever get busy?

Boy, I am.

I wish you could outsource things that you sure don't like to do like when the telemarketer calls and I know you can say, "put me on your do-not-call list" but I always am "Oh, 25%? That's quite a deal." "Uh, huh, well, I didn't really need a subscription to Guns and Ammo but if you put it that way..."

I wish I could trade things that I'm comfortable with to people who are comfortable with other things. I could poop in the woods for you and you could talk to all of my telemarketers and tell them to put me on their do-not-call list.

That seems a fair trade.

Actually, I don't like to poop in the woods, so maybe you could just take care of the telemarketers and we'll call it even.

That makes sense, I guess.

Tomorrow let's talk about politics.

Ok?

4000 years ago things looked pretty good for tigers but now we chase them from our houses with cell phones

2008-04-28T16:41:00.001-05:00

Sorry I've been away so long but I have a secret and I'm not supposed to tell but I guess you won't tell noone because of your past history with me.

Turns out John Edwards--that famous psychic who can talk to the dead-- well, he called me and he was like...don't tell noone but someone who lives in the state that starts with an A or an O or an M (or maybe it's a city, he said (which was when I knew it was Omaha)) ... don't tell noone but someone who lives there might have cancer and you might know them and you might have visited with them this year or the last year.

So I think my neighbor has cancer but don't tell anyone because I'm sure he or she would hate for that to get around and John Edwards entrusted me with his name not to tell so don't tell him I told, either.

Sorry I was away so long but I was in Boston and I can tell you about Boston but the only thing you really need to know is that there are 11 million people there and not one fucking public restroom. I had to pee and poop on Paul Revere's house and everyone applauded me.

Ok, that's a lie, that last part. But I was very uncomfortable for several minutes.

Sorry I was away so long but I could have died today. I took a bath in an empty house and I could have drowned and then you wouldn't even have known if I was murdered like that cop done his wife. Then I'd be updating this site even less if that's possible.

I think the left side of my body is aging faster than the right. The left side is like the Jew side, all gray and old and disfigured and when you see it you want to make it move to the middle east while the right side is infused with Christ and still robust (except for my right leg which feels full of lead).

Please don't tell my friends in the Jew army I said that, please. There's a lot of things they don't understand about science.

Plus my right armpit stinks. All the time. It doesn't matter what I do even if I wash it every day still the next day it will stink while my left armpit is like the dry desert sand. Like dry death.

My right is robust--except my leg as I just told you--and my left side is dry and faded like that Jew, Dorian Gray.

God I hope I get a raise soon.

Ants and shocks and bony cocks

2008-04-11T17:17:00.001-05:00

Well, well, well, here we are again. I feel like we're almost lovers. No, not you...the pretty ones. Ok, you too, but please don't tell my friends, they think that you're doing my homework or something.

Sorry I've been away so long but I've been digging my gall bladder out of my bloated guts with a spoon. I've also been doing experiments. Frankenstein was right, electricity really is the true thing to use to bring things back to life. I been shockin some critters and so far, so good. Ants and such. First I kill them, then I shock them and it looks like it's really working. I'll post the results later.

Bur really that's just filler info to bide my time before I get to tell you the things I wanted to tell you.

I just wanted to let you know that if I get buried alive then I know what I'm going to do. A lot of people get buried alive as you have no doubt read in the literature of life and if it happens to me (I'm not going to die, I have a contract from Jesus signed in Jew blood) then I'm going to take full on advantage of my situation.

I'd lay back and try and remember a Madonna who was prancing around in a black bra and jelly bracelets and I'd just let my mind go with that for awhile. I'd let the moment and thoughts just flow from there (much like the force but not kissing your sister kind of force. Not that at all.) and I'd let it flow and flow until I was ready to move on to step B.

I'd certainly unzip the zipper at this point ... fumbling in the dark no doubt, maybe even short of breath at this point... And at that point I imagine that there'd be a loud knock on the coffin lid, "Ho, are you in there? Are you still alive?"

It seems no matter the situation a man is never really given opportunity to examine the past and evaluate one's influences.

In the unlikely event that I am not interrupted I'll jack it. And jack it again. And again and again and again until I'm either out of oxygen or rubbed down raw to the very penis bone which is way down deep in a penis. It looks like a fish bone, I seen it in National Geographic once.

And then at last I'd try for one more and I'd hope to die in that very position so that when the Rapture comes and I pop up out of the grave I'll have weapon in hand and can blast evil with giant strokes of justice, only it will be backwards strokes hard against the downward draft of fish bones of what was a penis but now is a fire shooting fish bone of fire death-glory.

Pyoo-pyoo evil! Eat redemptive fire! So fall the unrighteous from my loins. From the very heat of my loins.

That's my plan.

Should I die.

Which I'm not going to because I have a contract and my door is covered.

Yes, my door is covered in sheep's blood and we know that death does not knock on the bloody doors where sheeps bled.

Here, you can read about ruptures if you want at these 2 sites. The Jewish army showed me the 2nd link, so thanks, Jewish army.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/4/42/1992_Rapture.jpg
http://www.skepticfiles.org/atheist/rapture2.htm

Reading glow in the dark pron

2008-04-09T15:15:00.001-05:00

I was made to know over my long break and sorry I am that it was such a long break but evil does not fight itself and I was made to know about some Oprah doctor named doctor G or doctor O or some such thing and apparently he holds the key to long health and goodness, this I was made to know.

I tried not to know but it was thrust upon me like this: what? never mind. NO, YOU MUST KNOW ABOUT THE POOP THEORY.

And then it was lost to me for how can I resist knowing the poop story?

How can even one such as I a man of might beyond the might of the most mighty avoid a story about fecals?

I was trapped and drawn in.

And so it was.

So this doctor G has some kind of news about how your poops should look and how they twist in the stool and if you look at them you will know things.

I never could figure out what you'd know but there is some sort of science to poop which is so-called poopology and if it curves to the left that means one thing and if it turns to the right, well that means another.

So to be honest, I had to look for myself. Before the large bed of overwipes I took a small peep the first day and it looked like a collision of time and space, to be honest. Apparently, heavy drinking does not afford a left turned or right turned poop but rather an explosion of the poop cosmos. The poop cosmos is vast and stinky.

So I had to check and check and over several days until one day it wasn't an explosion but rather a large fellow who's head was pushed out of the water and I'll tell you this, I panicked. Not like a girl panic but rather like a frightened girl panic and I pulled out my Johnny Depp razor and did I slash and slash at it, you bet I did.

Well, slash and slash may be an exaggeration. I got one good slash in and I think it was the poop throat or I thought so at the time because after the slash and what I assumed to be the poop head lolling off, the body slunk into the mystery hole where goes all the things that you have no need of like extra hairs and dirty dental floss.

Well, before I could get my bearings, the poop came back and with company for it was not the neck I severed but the tail. Much like a terrible giant worm was this poop and this time he came back, poop fangs bared and ready for action and with so many horde hosts and then the true slashing began and it was a maelstrom of slashing and near bitings and I'll tell you this...it went on so furious and strong that when all was done and I was finally able to flush down the fecal carnage I was covered in the stuff.

In fact, I think I accidentally had sex with one of the little buggers and that's how I got aids for they have only rear exits do the poops. And that's where you go in, apparently.

Sometimes the life lessons are hard won.

Hard one.

Anyway, have a nice weekend and remember it's spring soon. But not in Africa!

Anyway, that's the story about doctor G. Be careful of him.

I stole music. Fuck you recording industry. Know what else? I'm going to steal more tonight.

2008-03-28T14:47:00.001-05:00

If I were going to die I would want to be scooped out with one of those pumpkin scoopers and filled with jelly beans!

I'd especially want the good kind of jellies, not the ones I grew up that taste like sugar and wax but the new kinds that have sours. And not those Harry Potter jellies that taste like turds. Especially not those. If I want to taste a turd I'll roll my own, thank you.

But I'm not going to die. (Jesus assures me of this in a contract he wrote on cigarette papers and Jesus doesn't lie.)

I'd want to be posed with my finger out in a scolding position but a wry grin on my face which said, "I caught you doing that bad shit but I'm not mad. Your mother would be mad, but not your stuffed friend Ho."

I'd want to be housed in my house so my progeny can run around me in circles like some great waxen maypole and dance about me all the May long and then one day, when one of the small ones trips and knocks me over and smash I go onto the ground?

Well on that day is the day I planned for like that books by Isaac Asimov and all of my fragile skin vanishes like so much necrotic dust and on the floor in my place?

Jelly beans!

A million jelly beans like some cannibalistic pinata (can't find enyay) but not from Mexico because I have insurance and a job and pay taxes!

Then the kids run around eating jelly beans and even in death, I provide value.

Or maybe especially in death.

Or maybe only in death.

Know what else?

I wish meat really was murder cause I can see me in the prison yard and they say, "What you in for?"

And I look at them with a steel look and my blue eyes reflect the burning blasts of the sun and I look away and pause, just for a minute and then I look back and I take a puff of smoke from my cigarette cause why not smoke in prison and a grit my teeth like Dirty Hairy and I say...

Meat.

Please draw me a picture of your naked body and put it in the mail. Make sure the boobs are big (even if that's a lie)

2008-03-25T16:22:00.001-05:00

In the Heidi Montag and Spenser and all of them update furor from yesterday, I realized I forgot to tell you more about Easter and I'm sorry for that because I know you were so wondering if there was more to the story as says Paul Harvey.

How was your easter, by the way? My how you can go on and on about yourself. It's kinda selfish.

Anyway, me and the mrs. Ho was going on about a theological point, her yelling in my face -- the spittles striking me in the subtle eyelashes and forceful jowl -- me furiously scribbling my points on napkins and then burning them in the holy flame of the blessed tapers that I stole from the cathedrals because how many candles do you need? It's kinda selfish of them if you think about it to make you pay to light a candle when you can just steal one and burn it all day for free. I could buy one but the ones from the store ain't holy--probly Target has some holy ones. They ain't been touched with the sweat of the lord.

Anyway, she was on and on about how Xmas was the holiest of holidays and I was all, touche, douche, it's easter which is the holiest. She was all blah blah blah if he hadn't been born we'd all be Jews or Muslims and I let that blasphemy slip by because she scares me.

As a counterpoint I went to the bathroom and explained to my new dog that easter was the holiest because it's all about the resurrection. It's the resurrection that makes Xmas look trivial.

Without the resurrection, Jesus is just another water-walker born from a ghost infected womb.

The resurrection pays the dividends.

I'd like to tell you my dog agreed with me, but she don't talk.

I took her tongue with a sharp knife and a heavy look of I tried to warn you.

For reasons I'll later explain if I remember.

(I keep it in my pocket with my spectacles)

I know a feller died on the couch at 35 and some say it's couch poison but for my part I ain't too sure (he died on his side which seems unnatural)

2008-03-24T17:46:00.001-05:00

Can you check this? I've been kind of working out some equations on paper and i think I have the math right but one of the sigmas has me doubting (sigma4).

http://arxiv.org/PS_cache/arxiv/pdf/0709/0709.0099v3.pdf

Sorry I was away so long but it was a long Easter revel which by now you've come to expect.

On Friday (good friday) I locked myself in my room for a three day experiment (I was entombed). I intended a great intent, that of replaying the death of Jesus and the three day sleep in the cave but this was bed because I'm not a Jew from Israel but live in Omaha where we don't have caves.

So I got into bed with strict instructions to mrs. Ho not to disturb me (she was out of town) and there I lay eating those cheesy snacks and watching television.

For three long days I lay and almost got a bed sore and got crumbs everywhere and that was probly the worst of it. It was the constant basketball that helped me through. And the Holy Ghost who assured me the plan was a good one.

At the third day, which was Sunday, mrs. Ho opened the door and I quickly hid under the covers so that she could say, "Lo, where has he gone to? He must have gone unto the very heavens. His corpse is no longer in yon cave where once we did bury him." And then the weeping and gnashing and running for neighbors.

Instead she saw my lump of bed mass and then was sore vexed about the crumbs and all the things I was supposed to do and instead layed in bed even though I explained in furious sub-breath mutterings my intent to relive the sufferings.

They were cheetos, truth be told and they were delicious.

I was going to get one of those contraptions that float you down from the house but that seemed like a lot of work so instead I looked for the ham. My intent was to float down and say, "Lo, fear not, it is I, Jesus, etc." But it's a lot of work to build those things.

What about you?

Oh! That reminds me.

More to the Heidi Montag situation. Apparently she's related to Lauren Conrad, they are cousins or something and Heidi or Spenser did something to Lauren or Lauren done to them, I can't be sure...but something is clearly going on because it's on the cover of US.

Here, I'll read you the headline, it says: I WAS STABBED IN THE BACK. All in caps and the caps are Yellow. Then: Furious over Brody's surprise other woman.

So furious.

(I'm so furious I'm breaking my office mates pens. All of them. That's how furious I am over this Heidi Montag issue.)

So apparently we have a Brody to kill as well as a Spenser.

Or something.

If you want to read the US and explain to me what I'm supposed to feel or care about, please mail me on the message boards or send me a self addressed stamp envelope.

And I won't write back.

Crab cakes are made of crabs

2008-03-19T16:12:00.001-05:00

The first thing we have to do is kill all the liberal agitators. They're always questioning on things that should best be left believed. Is there a God, is it important to be at war with Iraq, should lasagna be king or should George Bush. Wait, that's actually a valid one.

Let's kill all the liberals because they're fucking everything up for us. That's the first thing we have to do.

The second thing we have to do is silence Heidi Montag. Again she's on the cover of US weekly and again it's some complaint about something...she has been attacked or something. It's really throwing me off my game. I can't concentrate, my hands are shaking, I'm out of beef jerky...really fucking up my game.

The second thing is that Heidi Montag must vanish from either US Weekly or somewhere. But certainly she must vanish from US Weekly, this much is certain.

The third thing is that we need to bring back slavery. Not blacks cause I aint a racist (except against Mexicans (but they would be bad slaves, they're much better as low paid labor who are ruining our medical system and also ruining our society (but boy howdy isn't my grass cutting bill low))))) shit, where was I...

The third thing we need, etc, but not against blacks but this time Jews. I could really use a slave around the house, particularly a sex slave but who I can also say, hey, you mind doing the dishes every day for the next 50 or so years?

Really do hate the dishes.

Any Jew found outside of Israel would be eligible. Israel is the safe zone...like in tag when you get to the porch and you're safe there. That's where they can be free...in Israel. And also in Iran but that's just to piss of that crazy president of theirs. Whose name is unpronounceable. Dingadongazamajinajod.

But one thing we should NEVER allow and I'll call this point number four...White protestant slaves. Our hands are too soft to do anything meaningful and I fall asleep so easily. I know that's not relevant but a nap would be nice.

I think I have a hangover.

Again.

I'm casting Jew magics on you

2008-03-18T16:53:00.001-05:00

I was traveling on the only day that married couples can know one another (Saturday) and said to myself, why not try a little cyber?

I'm not good with new things. I hate them, really. I've done cyber a time or two but mostly I was drunk and it was with other boys who were online with girl names.

There's something about being w/ a cyber boy that is easier than a real woman because even when it's bad it's good, ya know? With a girl it's a time investment. Lots of feelings and describing the lighting and all that shit. Or so I imagine.

For boys it's much easier, show me your titties, k I'm done. That's how easy. Boys have it easy.

So there's Mrs. Ho (she goes by Ms. Ho cause she's a feminist hippie (all hippies are feminists and all feminists...etc)) online and here's how we spent a lovely cyber session (I'll be online all week).

Me: Hey. I'm real sorry I had to travel on a Saturday, I know how much this day is to you...

Her: ?

Me: You know...when we get to spend time alone...

Her: What the fuck are you talking about?

Me: SEX NIGHT. JESUS CHRIST. IT'S SATURDAY. SATURDAY NIGHT, OK??!! SEX NIGHT.

Her: Why didn't you just say that?

Me: Anyway, sorry...

Her: That's fine, maybe next Saturday.

Me: I thought maybe we could try some cyber?

Her: What's that?

Me: That's when we type sex-type things back and forth ... it's kinda like cyber sex.

Her: I don't know...sounds kinda weird...

Me: No, it's totally fine, I do it in warcraft all the time...

Her: wtf?

Me: No, it's with boys pretending to be girls so it's cool...

Her: If you give me aids, god help me...

Me: No, no I play it safe and plus my resistance gear is awesome! I'm like +200 against aids. Not as good as my fire gear but still nothing to sneeze at.

Her: Ok, if you start, I'll try it.

Me: Ok...well, the lights are really low and I have candles burning and they're that scent you like...

Her: Coconut?

Me: Yeah, coconut...and I get out some oil and I'm rubbing it on your shoulders...

Her: Oh, god, it's pachuli oil, isn't it?

Me: Well, yeah, it's all we had...

Her: We had it because it stinks like hippies. Dirty hippie girls running around the market looking for pennies with their long dirty hair and you rubbed that shit all over me. Now I need a shower.

Me: Ok, I go out to the store and I get some non-scented oil and I come back and I start rubbing that on your shoulders.

Her: GET OFF OF ME!

Me: Ok, I run a bath first and add...

Her: Are you done, yet?

Me: Done before we started.

Pinching you, pinching you, I am somg pinching you! (But not you, Jew--go get your own holiday and this time don't base it on Xmas, please) (and please no dradle, k? we don't care (plus it's called a top, not a dradle))

2008-03-17T13:59:00.001-05:00

If I had to vote for a king of the United States of America, it would probably be a vote for George Bush or lasagna. It's a tough choice of which I love more. In fact, it's such a hard choice that you'd be cruel to make me choose between one of them. Kinda like Sofie's Choice but deeper. Deeper tones and long term impacts. In fact? Fuck you. I won't pick. Take that, boss man.

Since it's Monday, you need a quiz. Sitting around all weekend sucking dick will no longer do. You need to buck up and get serious about life. I hope you pass the quiz, though. If you don't, you might die today. Or you might not. Depends on your grade.

Multiple choice:

a.) You should go to medical school.
b.) You should NOT go to medical school.

The answer is a.

If you guessed b then your a retard who has to go back to retard school.

True/false:

True or false, you should NOT go to medical school.

The answer here is true. You should not go to medical school. If you answered true, you probably meant false, it was a badly written question and I'll throw it out. There. Settled. No medical school for you.

Oh...bad news. I said that Spencer cheated on Heidi. I might have been wrong there, so please don't kill him, yet (or do, it's not really that important). The caption (I do read the captions, they're short and hold my attention) said that Spencer wronged Heidi. I assumed cheated on but that's because I'm a man. We cheat. It's what we do. God tells us to. It's in Genesis. Go ye forth and cheat, ye men of Sodom. I'd cheat on her. She has a dog's face but such boobs!

Happy Pat's day.

Go get ye drunk.

I know I will.

Here's a song I wrote: Hey, Heidi Montag, hey Heidi will you be my bride, hey Heidi will you be my love slide?

2008-03-14T16:26:00.001-05:00

I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that if you sit on a toilet for 2 years in a row, the toilet lid will grow to your legs and the parameds will have to come and pry the seat off and hoist you to the hospital. The sores will open and then the flesh fixers in your body will pus up and actually then bond to the plastic of the seat. That is the bad news.

More bad news is that they can see your business the whole way there because your bum and such are still visible because you are living on a toilet. Plus when they pull that lid from your legs, it hurts. I bet it hurts. And I bet it stinks.

And what's more there is no good news. That was a lie and I told you that lie because I wanted to soften your pain at being stuck to a toilet seat.

I wonder how you wipe if your legs are stuck to a toilet. You kinda can't lean.

I have so many questions for this woman.

Oh!

I do have good news, after all.

Remember that Heidi Montag issue?

Well, I have more news for you. Apparently she was cheated on (or something) by Spencer!

The sad news is that I don't know who Spenser is, neither. Nor do I know why that is news in Us Weekly. But it is. Big news.

That fucking Spenser. So mad.

Furthermore, let's all find Spenser and kill him so that Heidi can rest in peace and also so we can get back to what Brittney is doing. I'm had enough of Spenser and Heidi Montag to last a thousand years.

I guess you know it's Friday.

I have some other news. The Jew army has been staying at my house and they're eating me out of gifeltafish. I'm down to 3 jars and I hope they go back to Israel before I need to go back to the kosher store near my house.

And what's more?

Well, I always suspected that pilates was for fags and now I know...it's for fags who are in really good shape. Here's how I found out...

I was in a manager meeting and I was discussing the rules and procedures we should implement so that we have productive SLAs and such and I was telling the woman next to me ... well, I told her this: "I heard in pilates class that if you do crunches you can reduce the size of your menopause pooch."

It was at that moment that everyone fingerpointed me like that Body Snatcher movie and started shouting, Fag!

The boys, anyway. I really have a lot of good girlfriends out of the incident, though.

Anyway, I'm going to a concert tonight and I hope to see you there.

If you see me, please don't make eye contact.

I hate that.

I'm a cheat and a liar, no woman's desire

2008-03-13T16:45:00.001-05:00

This got kinda long and I feel (bad about that and...) like probably you should read something different instead of the long ramble. Like the bible. Go read the bible, sinner.

I think I'm suffering from Carbonite Sickness. I have all the signs -- classic case, really -- sore throat, beleaguered nose, breathing with my mouth open seems to exacerbate and the only time I feel better is when I am drinking.

Help me out and shoot me with your rich ray and I don't even care if it stings a little and shoot me in the fleshy parts of the ass where all the good shots go the ones from my youth except the polio vaccine which makes a scar to last into the future and this is not a sexual innuendo but I want to be fatso in the dough.

I have discovered a cure for the gay parts of AIDS. Listen up gays and this could possibly save your life. The cure is to marry a woman and have vaginal sex at least once a week (and no more boys). Additionally you must let your lawn get long and out of shape and you have to grow a great beard like that crazy Rasputin sported. This cure will not work from the straights though because they became sick from promiscuity and that's the devil's food cake.

Hey, who is Heidi Montag other than some blonde girl with big fat titties and an unfortunate face? No, not Tori Spelling, not that unfortunate. I'm usually up on the news, I steal the neighbor's Us magazine several times a month and I'd like to lie to you and tell you I read the articles but I don't. Fuck, maybe there aren't any articles, how would I know? I look at the pictures which is worth 1 thousand more points than the words according to the wise men. And lately it's all oh, let's all cry about Heidi Montag and I'm all, that bitch with big fat tittes? Apparently so. So cry for her cause she has some crazy shit going on at the moment and needs your salty support.

Hey, where's that site with the 4 thousand dollar call girl? I seen her boobies on the innernet but they're all fuzzed out like I'm a child what never seen titties before. I want to see them up close. I know that's boyish of me but that's how I was raised. Never settle for smudged boobs. I wish I had 4 thousands of dollars. I'd bury her in 20s then crawl through them looking for her. Maybe 1s. Can you bury someone in 4 thousands worth of 20s? How many 20s are in 4 thousand? Like 8? I should have stayed in school. I know lots of guys say this, but how is it that you can show some guts in the street but you can't show the local naked harlot? I blame Dan Rather for this.

My feet stink. I should chop them off with a hammar. Do you think nubs stink? Do they go into shoes and then get all stinky or is it just a virtue of a sweaty foot? If you have a nub, please drop me a line on the message boards and tell me.

Hey, guess what? I went to Von Maur 3 times last week and didn't even get shot once nor even shot at. I wonder what my odds are now of getting shot at a mall. Probly ...3:1.

Here's my poem about Lance Armstrong:

lance armstrong is a tiger, fierce and bold
he lives by his wits and has a keen sense of smell
he is an animal living entirely in the moment
he is outside the scope of time
and space

Look at my thumb (and other stupid things I must have said when drunk)

2008-03-12T17:04:00.001-05:00

Sorry I've been away so long, I've been designing new message board functionalities for my sight. My goal is so that we can chat back and forth via message logs. You can tell me your thoughts and I can respond every time, "Lol. Your a pretty retard."

So far it's only in analog form. In this analog version you're saying, "I've found a new mathematical constant...blah blah blah." It's not very impressive, really. Bragger. You are not your deeds, can't you see that? You mean everything to me. Let's make love?

So, I had an interesting day.

I had constipation so bad that they needed to hook me up to a Pitocin drip. No amount of coffee was going to pass that baby through that tender canal.

I also had a nurse practitioner with me. I wanted a midwife but the insurance wouldn't pay for it, so I settled on conventional Western medicine.

The nurse had me doing all kinds of crazy breathing! I'll be honest I thought I was going to hyperventilate! It was that close. It was touch and go, really. And by touch and go I mean she touched me down there to see how things were coming along.

At one point she said to me, she said, "We may have to deliver this vaginally."

I was confused but I'll tell you this. It was on. FULL POWER!

So, long story, short, but for some slight rectal tearing I'm as good as now. But you can darn well bet that I'm eating prunes at this very moment!

Have a nice day if you can.

The two ton tongue is a heavy load hammered to the same tree that had that guy who had to cut his own leg off to escape (and he used a pocket knife, remember) (proofreading is for pussies)

2008-03-11T11:57:00.001-05:00

I seen something today in the sky and I'm not really sure what to say about it except to go on the message boards and tell everyone that I seen a backwards S in the sky.

I initially thought it was a stack of smoke but then the S moved around and became lopsided and then I knew it was birds.

But the reverse S was clear as frozen boogers until the birds started fucking around into new patterns. Eventually they turned into a vulgar, bulging V as they are wont to do but it wasn't a very good V. I'd give it a C if they were in class and I would then show them movies of what good Vs can be. Movies from the 50s when they knew things.

Six seconds after seeing the reverse S, three hearses pulled in front of me. The trailing hearse had a personalized license plate that read Hussein or some such scary arab name. Maybe it was Husein1. I forget. It certainly was arab and I certainly did back up off it in case of explosions. It definitely was not Jewsein. To this I will swear in court under a stack of holy Bibles. A stack of six holy Bibles and a side of pancakes, to be quite clear. Make that seven Bibles for seven is a holy number.

Not seven seconds after the terror train I heard the word death on the radio. I heard it clearly. It was not to the tune of, you will see your death today, Ho. It was not that clear. It was more to the tune of so and so's death. I forget the context, only I heard the word and it struck me...what is this sequence of events? Is it a herald to my doom? I must tell you I took action.

Instantly I did the genuflexes. I dug my sharp nails into first my forehead, then my chest, over my heart and finally my left and rights. I dug in deep (the red mark is still visible on my forehead) so that Jesus knew I meant it. I also drove in the left lane at a rate some five miles below the regulars. I drove like an old man on his way to the doctor.

I must tell you that dying today would really fuck up my plans of living forever. So far The Plan To Live Forever has been working. No kinks. No cancer. No explosions. No nothing.

So all of that was clear to me and I made it to work and now have not much more to go in the day.

But what of the backward S? Is that some kind of bizarro world reference to Superman? Is it a symbol of declining financial prowess of the United States?

And what of the hearses? I half-wondered if all arabs have hearses and that's why so many suiciding. Great for business. If I blew 22 then who would benefit (other than me with the virgins which you get when you die right)?

Right, Uncle Hussein's Hearses.

What do the ones get who don't die martyrs? Used women?

How sad is that?

My Chest Hairs have Chest Hairs (And they're gray chest hairs to boot) (I think they're starting a gray chest hair colony and soon they'll be sending shoots into my ears and nose like what the old people have)

2008-03-10T17:00:00.001-05:00

I got a warning for you so you can advance your career more than you done. I meant to give you a Valentine warning so you could advance your love life but then I forgot. So here's the Valentine warning but I want you to switch the word Valentines with the word Daylight Savings--OMG Springs Forward!!

Make sure you remember that it's Valentine's day tomorrow or you won't get laid and your wife will leave you. If you're a girl you can forget it's Valentine's day because boys don't care about chocolate candies (but I know you won't forget because you want to test your man to see if he forgets (he will) and when he does you can do that sigh which means, how do I suffer you).

So don't forget to spring forward for your career even though you'll have a hard time getting out of bed. On the other hand, other than sleep, it's not like there's much keeping you in bed. But that's because you didn't heed the Valentines warning, isn't it.

You never listen. It makes me sad but I guess all I can do is tell you things. And you not to listen.

Today I got a two ton tongue like it's weighted down with gum. I think I should work it out but I got nothing to chomp on.

Anyway, I have more to say but I don't know how to say it because I got a two ton tongue and she makes the words come out think and slow.

I'll say it later. Maybe.

Jesus ruins all the surprises

2008-03-05T16:20:00.001-06:00

I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news first. The bad news is that I'm all out of vodka. This is also the good news. I'm tempted to try going a night without drinking but then the bigger temptation is to not.

I think they should make a word that represents the absence of a hangover.

Some douchebags would call that word alcoholism and they would be foolish and wrong. The real word is alchoholist and that's what I am. A professional in my field. Like a surgeon but drunk all the time. And pays less. But much better company.

Also, I think Jodi Foster is a lesbian. She's never in the tabloids with any men and she has that mystery baby and I know that must have taken some work without a man.

I think she's pretty pretty for a lesbian. Lots of people think that lesbians are all hot and like to suck a little dick between the women they keep and that's pretty much true (as I understand it and I heard it from People magazine so you can pretty much believe me).

Like every rule there are exceptions, of course.

If you had to choose to sleep with Rosie Odonnel or Martina Navratalova, whom would you choose? And don't try to throw in some sneaky I'll go with Rosie's wife, thanks. I'm talking boysbians here, not the wife of a boysbian.

I'd choose Martina because I bet she smells like soap. Like one of those soaps that jocks use. Irish Spring. They carve it with a pocket knife. I bet Rosie don't. I'm not saying she stinks but I'll bet she washes less than Rosie. Maybe I'll ask her on her blog but I feel kinda sensitive about that. So I probly won't, she'd likely take it out of context.

Know what else? I bet the used vibrator market isn't as robust as you might initially think. Probly usedvibrators.com is available. I bet even if you say it's slightly or gently used you don't sell too many of them. Cause I'm in the market for one. If you have one. Shoot me a note on the message boards. We'll haggle.

One of us has had way too much coffee and it's you

2008-02-28T16:32:00.000-06:00

Sometimes people who drive black cars get aids and die. Sometimes they don't. But sometimes they do so if you drive a black car maybe you should take the subway or stop being a whore for a minute.

I'm just saying that not to hurt your feelings but to protect you. From yourself.

Plus you shouldn't brag so much about your new black car. It's making everyone livid. We're all talking about how smug you look pipping about as if you were the only one to ever have a new black car. (You sure are NOT the only one).

If you find it keyed don't come crying to me, please. If you find the keyed phrase to read Your a Looser!!@! then don't come crying to me about vandals and grammar, please.

Another thing is at what point in history did sugar become an explosive? Is this something we have to worry about from the al Queidas? Blowing us up with lolly pops and gum drops? Is there science to support the idea of explosive sugar dust? Is there a magic spell someone can cast which will reveal the science of the explosive dust?

I was watching the news and there it was. That sugar blew up a bunch of people (but they were only factory workers so don't worry) and I'll be honest with you, I tossed out my sugar. Both the regular granular and also the powdered. I was going to throw out the raw sugar but then I remembered that I'm not a hippie liberal who's afraid that the government is trying to poison me with bleached sugar. I want the pretty white sugar. The unexplosive kind, as well, if that can be arranged. (I also tossed my wife's Splenda, please don't tell her).

Another thing is that there were a lot of posts in the message boards about why the devil wants my poops in hell and I admit I did a bad job, yesterday on that one. I'll be the first one to admit that because it's true. I've grafted monkey paws on my hands in lieu of the hooks and that has made a fine mess of things. I also got a lot of text messages and emails on the innernet asking about the same question so I guess I want to clear the air between us.

The thing that most people don't understand about hell is that they use my poop there as currency. Not exclusively but the market value for the poops is like a fifty dollar bill or back when Canadian dollar jokes were good...about a hundred loonies. And when I said the devil (with his rich brown hands and cracked and dirty nails (the devil don't clip his nails)) grabs the poops I didn't mean to say it was the actual devil because he needs no currency in hell. He's a sort of Fidel Castro. He wants a cigar? He gets a cigar.

Anyway, it was a sort of demon, perhaps. To be honest I'm not sure, all I see are the fingers pulling them down.

Some of the demons carry some of the poops around in giant metal bowls and silver hip flasks and some of the dumber ones cram the formed currency and fill their fancy pockets, and when they go to pay, (every time they do this!!) they look sheepish and hand out the dull wads as best they can and I'll tell you I'm sorry for them.

The demons wear pants in hell to hold their money.

That's what most people don't understand.

The posh demons carry the currency around in the cigar cases from the old movies and when they pay they lightly tap them out and offer them as one would a cigarette to an elegant woman.

But someone said they liked my hair, today. I think she really did like it, too and I said the same thing back. I like your hair, too, I said. And I made eye contact which is something I don't usually do because that's when lust starts.

But I didn't really mean what I said. About her hair and all. Her hair was tattered and wan. She had split ends but I wanted to say something nice back (and saying your hair is nice but for the split ends isn't nice) and I guess that's a sin what I done because it's a lie.

I will use that lie as my confession tonight because I don't want to tell the young man about the devil in my toilet for he won't understand.

He'll want to bring in a Damian Carras to get rid of it and then where will I take the massives? Left with the heavenly toilet? Will he pump the heavenly toilet?

He will not.

Does the day go on forever?

Be warned or you'll miss Valentine's day!

2008-02-27T15:00:00.001-06:00

Apparently when you say to someone how's it hangin that's sexual harassment and if Steve is behind you with folded arms grinning (grinning folded arms) then it's doubly so.

I seen it in a training and it's true. And it's really Steve who makes it pervasively-so which is one of the main points of the training if you were paying attention you'd know that. But you were sleeping because it was boring. That's why I note this.

And you can't go on with things when someone says, did you want me? (you called for her) and you specifically can't say, I've wanted you since I could first form an erection and last week made a shrine of your pictures on my sex walls and hung them with my dried love and shellacked them with my tears of not having you because you're probably a lesbian. That's harassment even if it's true. And it is true. Fucking lesbian.

Another bit of news, if I may loiter while my query is gathering all of the data in the universe and filling it into a comma delimited file is that I had to poop in the man can today--the one with a direct line into hell (when I saw the devil's claws pulling down the giant clogs that's when I knew that it had a direct line).

The upstairs one is more heavenly. I fill it and it says, well, all of this? with a smile on the face and an embarrassed grin which says, I may have to send this back to your tile floor but you won't know that until it's too late.

I knew it was going to be a stunner so I sat on the uncomfy hell sender and it was a sight to see, let me assure you. I'd draw you a picture but I'm out of my brown and red and black and jaundice color crayons and even dry erase markers for my whiteboard. The beagle ate them and she eats so much more than that.

My beagle has brittle fur and it breaks when I pet her and she cries but love cries

2008-02-19T17:07:00.001-06:00

This is a true story and it happened to me yesterday or Sunday. The days bleed, I'm afraid, and there's nothing anyone can do to staunch the wound.

One thing is that I saw Todd Snider which you should probably try to see. He's similar to me but hookless and not as handsome.

Anyway I was in the store as is my fashion and at the checkout was Cointreau and I said to the man checking me out I said, "Cointreau? What is this?"

"Some liquer, I guess. I hear it's strong but I've never tasted it."

He did say liquer, in fact, not liquor. That is the idiom of Nebraska.

"As long as it's strong," I said and I gave the laugh that you give to people you don't know the boisterous Har Har Do You Get My Meaning Har Har.

Lo he laughed and he said a queer thing, he said, "I'll get you the number to my sponsor."

And I looked upon this man and he was near my age but well rested and clean. Clean shaven, clothes neatly pressed, bright smile, bright eye, calm and refreshed. He had the look of a man who has checked a rapid course and is now on the right course. The right job, the right wife, no doubt, the right way of having sex, face down in the dark, eyes firmly shut and stemming the dreams of the neighbor's daughter in 3 years.

All the right things he seemed to me to be and for just his sponsor's number so I cut his throat and his blood ran over my fingers and onto my crumpled cargo pants and I got the hell out of there grabbing the bottle of Cointreau (which is not to my taste).

I got home and resisted the temptation to regret and ran to the liquor cabinet and washed that young man's blood off my fingers with 1/5 a bottle of Absolut and I'll tell you if you listen that I have a dead man's sponsor in my mind and a dead man's blood on my mostly clean hands.

And Cointreau.

Sometimes I spit when I say my asses (this is very long feel free to not read it (metaphore is confusingly spelled metaphor))

2008-02-15T16:40:00.001-06:00

I wish i knew more metaphors. I think that's what they are. What is it when you say you're happy as a clam? That as a part is a special part in English I once heard on the innernet. I think not a metaphor, I don't think. But it parades like one. Similie maybe? It gets so jealous of you. Let's call it a metaphor.

I wish I knew more metaphors.

It has been so cold in Omaha. It was three degrees, this morning. That's Fahrenheits to all you weaker nations. Yes, I'm pointing at you, Canada. Three degrees in Celsius would be like negative a thousand. In Fahrenheit we don't go negative until our nuts are great frozen glaciers carving river beds in the thighs of our corpulence. That's how we do things in the US. Big. Positive.

Remember when it was funny to laugh about the Canadian dollar? Well that joke isn't funny, anymore. It has been put back in the dryer for another 18 minutes. We'll get back to it being funny again after we talk George Bush into running for another four years. Who else could do it? He knows the job. He's done it for 8 years. More than that Obama.

I always tell people that it's cold here. As cold as shit.

How cold is it, they ask. (They don't really ask I just pretend they ask so that I can impress them with three degrees.)

It's as cold as shit, here.

I'm just not satisfied with that one. I know there's the witches tit one but that is so vulgar. And I abhor vulgarity in most forms.

I'm looking out my window and there's a tree upside down with a long loping penis defying the gravity. The legs are in the air falling forward like a forward front flip and the penis is going backward like when an indoor plant shoots off a shoot toward the sun. Reverse gravity. It's a true trunk of gravity defiance.

I'd take a picture of it for you but I'm lazy.

So I say cold as shit and shit really isn't that cold, typically. Maybe if it's frozen shit. Like in the backyard that my dogs do. It's been so I can't get the poops off the ground, I must tell you. I go out there w/ my shovel and they are enmeshed into the earth and there are times when it looks like the killing fields back there. But with frozen poo, not corpses.

It would be sad if poops came out frozen. Can you imagine the feeling of that on the old cake hole? A sliding rod of stinky freezes? Like a popcicle no one ever wanted. And can you think on the awkward visits to the doctor for when you had frostbite?

But I'll bet it would slide right out. Probly wouldn't even have to wipe more than once. Not that I do anyway. Unless you were wet down there from gay sex. Then it would stick like a tongue on a pole.

And guess what else.

I hope that my cat doesn't find me in heaven. I know that's a mean thing to say but she annoys me. She walks on my keyboard and it makes me so furious with her. It's not like I'm going to kill her for it (I already did), but it sure does make me so furious.

I think all animals go to heaven except whales and elephants. Those two are just so ... I don't know, you know? Walking around with their big fat asses puffed out in the air. Singing with their giant blow holes. N. Those two don't go to heaven but swim in the lakes of hell.

With the Mormons.

I want to live in an esurance commercial and make it with that pink eyed girl

2008-02-13T14:45:00.001-06:00

I wish I had a fancy way to start my car something so sneaky like in the movies you push a button or some fancy and then the ignition and then it starts.

That's what keeps the car jackers away.

But I don't so if you want to get my car it's a matter of killing me and getting my keys or just hotwires and it's yours.

But it's an old car and be careful when you rev the engine because it sounds like a belt is loose so you'll want to get that looked at.

Plus I hate the words loose and lose. I always get that wrong and then people judge me. Based on a silly o.

What else is that why are there congressional hearings on steroid use in baseball? Who gives a fuck, ya know? Go tax something or start a war or do something like find out if Barak obama is a Muslim like I heard at a web site. Something good. I don't care if this guy shot roids. They all shoot roids. Don't even need to do nothing but run around in a fucking circle and they shoot roids for that. I could play baseball without shooting roids and I have a metal leg.

So anyway.

It's been a long time and there's a reason.

I've been counting all the Mormons in hell and there sure are a lot of them! (All of them).

It took me a very long time because Jesus wanted an official count and I just finished today. They baptize for the dead and that drags people from heaven actually into hell. It's sad but Jesus insists.

Jesus loves for me to read him their book of Mormon. He giggles all the time through every page giggling as I go. He always says, "Read to me the part where I get resurrected again and come to South America."

"Not resurrected, Jesus, beamed," I always correct.

"Resurrected, beamed, what's the difference."

That's the bad thing with Jesus, good at magic but very bad at science.

Happy Valentine's day, Jew.

Barely refuting the facts of my deaths

2007-12-31T10:37:00.001-06:00

I don't know about you but I'll bet that Benazir Bhutto's boyfriend is pretty seriously trying to get a date right about now.

I can kinda picture him calling people.

Hey, Monica, this is Rasheed...

Right, Benazir Bhutto's boyfriend.

Right.

Yes, it's very somber around here, yes.

Say, listen, if you're not doing anything tonight, it's New Year's and I thought...

What's that?

Oh, right. Funeral.

No, I understand.

Yes, I completely understand.

Look, maybe I'll see you there and we can get some hot wings after.

Ok, take care.

At least that what happened in my mind.

Here's wishing you a healthy and aids free new year. Unless you already have the aids. In the second case, here's wishing you a cancer free year.

Unless it's cancer of the aids.

You probly have Schigella. I can see it in your face.

2007-11-21T11:40:00.001-06:00

Well hello there.

Sorry I been away so long but I had some big things to work on over
the past time that I was gone. I wasn't technically gone but I wasn't
technically here, neither.

One of the things I done is that I investigated patterns in PI so that
we can talk to aliens and Jesus like in that movie with Jodi Foster.

Well, one of them is 3.1 and it's significant because if you mod 10 it
(or a close mod 10 approximation) you'll find that to be approximately
my age when I started having kids so that's kind of a sign from Jesus
and aliens about the renewal of life.

The other number I found was .14 and that's important because if you
mod 20 it (or thereabouts) you'll find that to be about the age I
really started the furious masturbation which is another sign that
Jesus loves us. And the aliens do too.

I'm going to run some other studies, too. See if I don't.

One of them will be to study the patterns in PI using the binaries but
I'm not sure if you can do decimals in binary so I may have to invent
a new form of binary math that implements the decimal.

Or I may not. Might just watch football and drink vodka.

More likely I'll do the football/vodka plan.

Or it might be gin.

The Pope sends his love but only if you're catholic

2007-11-06T16:28:00.000-06:00

This is you doing what I specifically begged you not to do while I
stepped into the store and bought you the nice things that you enjoy.

It was mine and you had no right and I think that's where you got the
aids and now I have it on film.

http://totalweb.ru/uploads/post-0-1173898813_thumb.jpg

I was in getting you cool ranch doritos and cigarettes which you're
too young to buy for yourself, remember? The kind things I do and
did, remember?

Imagine my surprise when I died of thirst and your cup was full and
such a pitiful defense of oh, I don't know what happened to your share
of the Diet Squirt.

Yet you still drank your cup, didn't you.

The good thing is that the Holy Ghost has moved through me and forced
me to forgive you, so I forgive you for being a selfish fat drink
stealing pig with pretty eyes and a not unattractive snout.

Did you see about that girl in India who had like 8 arms? And they're
cutting some of them off? Maybe already they cut them off, I don't
know.

But I picture the delivery and the doctor saying, "Oh, there's a hand!
And another hand! And...oh dear...another hand, OMG it's a monster!
Fuck, run!"

But in Hindi.

Then I picture the little baby to crawl on out of there and pick up
some scimitars and start giving it to evil. Or whatever that blue god
does with all the arms.

Giving it to someone.

I have a precious pouch of jesus in my pocket and you can have the very first bite!

2007-10-19T15:50:00.001-05:00

My head has been so fuzzy on the inside for about at least 2 weeks now, possibly much longer. I wonder if i have aids or her sister hiv.

What's the symptoms of aids? Does anyone know? It's probly fuzzy thoughts. I catch everything.

Is it fuzzy thoughts? If it is then I have some. Have the bad kind, apparently.

I wish I knew someone with aids. I could ask them if they have fuzzy thoughts and in that way, using logic I could ascertain the truth about my recent downturn in health.

I wouldn't say, Does aids give you fuzzy thoughts. I'd be more sly. More like, Boy, sure have been sleeping with a lot of men, lately. These damn fuzzy thoughts.

Well, bad news. I found out that one of my personalities was having an affair with my wife. Just found that out, he wrote me a note that said, I'm totally doing your wife and she loves it.

I thought about getting a divorce. I can't believe my wife would stoop so low as to go with that one of all of them. Not that one.

A certain trust has been broken. I know you've been cheated on before. Plenty. So you should know exactly how it feels and I'll bet you do.

Then I had a plan to save the sharks. We kill all the chickens, make a huge cube of chicken cubes (used for soups and such) and drop the cube in the ocean which then becomes a giant chicken broth and the sharks can just drink the broth. And then the sharks are saved and I win a Nobel peace prize (which they seem to give for any reason not just being peaceful or doing peace which is confusing but the million dollars is nice).

That should work.

Your hair is very pretty like that, I like it when you do curls

2007-10-11T16:26:00.001-05:00

I would go to a public circle jerk if it was me and just a few others and the others are women carrying colorful dildos (yellow and orange) and we we're all naked and then we had sex after. That's probly the only way you'd get me into a circle jerk unless I was sleep walking.

This is how you kill a robot army.

You quickly chop off both of your arms and then challenge it to a pull my finger contest.

Then the all important part where you make him go first. Because if he asks you to go first then you're doomed. They will chop you with their chopper arms and laser eyes and bedebededebedebes. That's one thing robots excel at. Knife blade weapons and robot voices.

Here's another way.

Go back in time to the time before batteries and then the great hulking beasts will be out of power and their red glowing eyes will fade and then you can throw them in the ocean where the salt water will eventually destroy them.

Also you could lure them on top of your time machine and dash into the future while they're still holding on until the nuclear war that will come tears apart their aluminum siding and then beware of morlocks.

You cannot hang a robot. They have metal necks and then they laugh at you. You cannot hang a robot.

We'll need to figure out advanced ways of killing them because soon we'll have to be killing lots of robots like in the Blade Runner but metal robots with metal necks.

I guess we'll figure it out later.

If you think of something send me an email and I'll submit it. If it's good. But I'll also put my name on it.

Another way is to go back in time and kill the inventor of science, Albert Einstein.

But you know all of this.

I bet Albert Einstein's brother hated Albert. Always being compared to the great genius who discovered relativity and you just a shoe maker. Just a sad shoemaker.

Well, I guess this is you (or parts of you (your mom sent me this with all of your baby pictures because she was tired of holding onto your things)):

http://json.org/number.gif

It's found deep in your colon and the round spots are the aids and the square spots are cheedar cheese. Longhorn style colby cheese from Tillamook, Oregon. The rectangles are poops trying to get out but it's windy down there. Windey and windy. Both. The rest is just atoms and antimatter.

Did you see Brittney's kids was stolen?

I cried for days.

Still cryin.

If you were on Love Boat you would be Gopher

2007-10-02T17:50:00.001-05:00

I think that it would be quite some thing if when you had your vasectomy which you're going to be getting soon that if the doctor then filled it full of diamonds and then sewed it shut.

Then you'd have a scrote packed full of diamonds and when you walked around and stood akimbo you could say to the boys all about the advantages of having a scrote full of diamonds.

But then again, the bad side of all of this is that you have a scrote full of diamonds and those diamonds can be very sharp.

It really made me think, "Is it a good idea, this scrote full of diamonds idea?"

In a way it is but in the way that they would all rub up against the testes and probably cut or bruise or injure such fine, sensitive things made me finally fall down on the, "This scrote full of diamonds idea is probably an average to perhaps a very bad idea in spite of all the diamonds in your scrote which seems like a pretty good on face value."

However.

I was stricken with an even better follow-up idea about diamonds in your scrote and that is that the diamonds are very tiny, maybe like less than a karat or so and that sometimes they float out of your vessicals which get severed in the snippy process.

Then you can say to the ladies, perhaps if you gave me a fine bj you'd get a mouth full of diamonds and then in that way, you get a free bj (except technically you're paying in tiny diamonds) and she gets bling teeth.

And what lady don't want bling teeth?

.ru = pron

2007-09-25T14:50:00.001-05:00

I sometimes think that if you were inclined to make do with a tree in the robust times of life then who am I to say a thing to you, give a tree a romp and I won't be the one to cry foul.

But be warned, there are some who would vouchsafe intervene between you and an idle passion and chop down the very tree of your desire and then you shall be a man without a cunt tree.

I'm sorry for that terrible montage.

I wasn't going to say nothing at all but Amajinajad drew me out of my silence.

We have so much in common, him and me and I wish that we could find a stable ground on all of our affairs.

He and me both agree about the Jew situation and also about they gays and all manner of things that the damn liberals scoff at and we know to be true in our hearts and in the eyes of Jesus and his best friend the Holy Ghost who can transfigure at will and become invisible and also has a sometimes-death-ray.

Anyway, what I grow to wonder is when we will both agree on the nuking of all of the Arabs back into a fine sheet of glass (this would also include the Jews which is a double benefit but not the Indians because I fear the Indian Navy and the blue god with 8 arms and pointed teeth).

Anyway, Amajinajad, if you can have a conference in Homaha...if you have time in your busy schedule... I can make you some fine rice cakes and tea and we can sit and watch my pron collection and tell stories of great historical hoaxes and baseball and try to get to the page between us.

Love,

Your friend,

Ho.

I was cleaning out the garbage disposal and my arm got stuck and it took 20 minutes to grind my hand off but you're happy I freed my arm

2007-09-11T16:53:00.001-05:00

You know I eschew politics. Above all things I'm a simpleton and in politics it shows like bad. In fact, I wish George had his brother's name--Jed. That way I could chant, "Give me Jed til I'm dead." Cause that's what I want, four more years, and I know you want that, too. Unless you're evil. And stupid and an evil liberal retard from California or Hawaii.

That being said, I saw this clipping on the innernet and I wondered if you saw it. Here it is in case you didn't read it.

GREENVILLE, S.C. - Republican presidential contender Fred Thompson said Monday that while Osama bin Laden needs to be caught and killed, the terrorist mastermind would get the due process of law.

Anyway, I like it. Kill the son of a bitch. But maybe I don't understand what due process is. Is due process when you take someone to court and then kill them when it's over? Or is there another due process that I had to learn in school because I'm so confused.

I wonder if he meant do process. Like do process him with your guns, boys.

That sounds more like it to me.

Anyway, why didn't you tell me the VMAs would be good after 15 straight shitty years? I really feel bad about you for not telling me and I missed them.

The last time they were good I think it was that I want my MTV video. Which really deserved to be #1 and still technically should be #1.

Remember how many times I voted for that video?

And it won?

Pretty much you have me to thank for that.

Anyway.

I wonder what you're doing to celebrate the 911.

As for me, I'm going wassailing! You know how much I love wassail--so much that I had wassailing poison, last year, remember? Had to get my stomach pumped.

It might be a little early but I think it will be good to show the Muslims that we love Jesus and Christmas and that we aren't afraid to go around singing for booze.

Come along, won't you?

Bears should not hide in trees as it's not safe in there

2007-09-07T16:20:00.001-05:00

In a lot of ways left handed golfers have a definite advantage over right handed golfers because they have the power of Satan coursing through their veins.

The demonic power doesn't manifest itself so much on the driving of the ball because that's where Jesus lives...up in the air and sometimes he looks at you from clouds and the angels can guide a ball for right handers but typically they don't.

It's in the short game that the devil can really help out a left handed golfer, particularly in the putting because the devil lives in the center of the earth.

Sometimes the devil (it has been said) will run his finger along the crust of the earth and actually guide a left handed player's ball into the cup because left handers are of him and by him and the devil digs golf, besides.

And that's why Tiger Woods is so good at golf.

Zombie sharks will roam the parks and every day may bite you

2007-09-06T15:19:00.001-05:00

Summer is dead, the pools are closed and the flowers smell desperate.

The flowers are dropping petals one by one and it's a reluctant odor but the scent is sweaty desperate.

Especially the annuals who are like the ones who don't know the love of Jesus and burn in hell after a short season (Jews, very small babies, everyone in Africa, etc.)

It's the smell of the breath of an 80 year old man but not quite that bad because old people stink.

Some of them do, anyway.

Stink of death, maybe, I'm not sure because I'm still young and smell like flowers in mid Summer.

But I've decided to start parking in all of the handicapped stalls because those cripples have had it too good for too long.

j/k cripples. I'm not going to take all your parking places but I can sure tell you that I'm jealous of how close to Wal-Mart you can get while I park way back with the Mexicans.

For Summer being dead it sure is hot in here.

Best spellar evar

2007-08-30T06:14:00.001-05:00

Do you remember the Crimean war?

I don't either.

I wonder what Crimean means, it really is an ugly, stupid word. I used to think it was a river or a town, which is what the wars and battles are often named after.

Like Gettysburg.

Which is named after...well, I'm not sure what Gettysburg is named after.

Another nonsense word. Probably Gettysburg is named after some indian like Wisconsin probably is, too.

I guess I don't know what Wisconsin means either, but at least there isn't a war or battle named after them. Nice job, Wisconsin.

I guess my point, if I've ever had one, is that you shouldn't name a battle or especially a war after a nonsense word like Crimean.

You should name them after worlds, like world war one and two. Those were good wars that make sense and that's probably why we won them. No one was asking, what the fuck's a Crimea?

Probably Crimean is a town in the middle east where all the battles are and there's still a war there.

But really, who cares what it is?

I wish you'd wear skimpier dresses and sent me picture like your mom does

2007-08-21T14:50:00.001-05:00

This is what you'd look like when you're reincarnated as an animal because you eat a lot of pork and clams and meats:

http://d.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/p/rids/20070819/i/r4089763799.jpg?x=295&y=345&sig=_c0JLeLKYUgq1ag3UMXaMA--

Except your hat will be fancier and you'll have a penned-in Hitler stache to show you're not to be trifled with.

You'll also wear more turqouise because that's your birthstone.

I'd join you but I'm afraid your last gift of a 1000 dirty condoms was ill received by me and some members of my inner circles.

I peeped into the box and into the tubes that you sent and I can tell you I saw a sea of sea men scanning a port and looking up they saw me and tried to board.

Quickly I capped them down and sent them on to your nephew to teach him how to shake off the burdens of youth.

A 1000 dirty condoms.

Though if I change my mind, I'll be in the form of a dik dik with my own fancy hat for I've eaten my share of pork and beef.

Even more than my share.

But not as much like you, little piggy.

You should move to Nevada and take up professional whoring

2007-08-16T16:04:00.000-05:00

I just wanted you to know that if you had cancer in your vagina I would scoop it out for free with the free plastic scoopers (the gray colored grated ones) that come in scoopable cat litter or even with my bare hands if I liked you in the way I want you to like me.

I would then put it in one of those little jars with that fluid that keeps things like they do with adenoids and tonsils (with a sealed metal jar for safety because cancer juice is nasty). The adenoid tonsil jars. So you could show your friends for the LOLs, OMGs and WTFLOLs.

If it was the scoopable kind of cancer that you had.

I guess that's more rare (scoopables) than the string sort of cancer that gets in your teeth and all over your fingers and half into your hair if you don't have one of those cloth head things the doctors wear when they tackle the tumors.

But the scoopables I'd scoop for you or drill out with drills and mild caustics.

Because I like you and that's what friends do for one another.

Scoops and caustics, caustics and scoops.

I'm taking a high dose of horny pills since you're out of town

2007-08-15T15:18:00.001-05:00

I'm glad my calling wasn't to be a rap star because I'm not very good with rhyming and I don't have very many bitches and I'm not proficient with the word ain't, though I am working on it in my spare times (at night between drinks I whisper, "It ain't like that!" and sometimes I say ain't quite loudly but mostly I accentuate the word like).

I am, however, a very good break dancer and I could show you or teach you moves or show you moves if that's all you wanted. Back so many years ago in the day I had a fine helicopter ability and also pop locking and the worm. And the wave both left to right and also right to left and the dual-out worms from the center. A move I created.

Remember how good I was and my parachute pants?

I think a very nice job would be for me to become a professional break dancer and do break fights for people. Something like a firefighter but for break dancing and even I have my own 911 number but not 911 because who wants to hassle that?

Let's say you had someone who was calling you out to perform some moves and you were naturally afraid of busting out some moves. Well, you could call me and I could proxy break dance fight and if I win then all the glory to you and if I lose well...then that's bad for you. I go home but you live with the shame of losing a break battle.

And maybe a refund from me and maybe not.

I'd have to charge a lot, though. Clearly my best days are behind me (in so many ways but I refer in this instance to the break) and I'm not as limber as I used to be and besides I run out of breath like this:.

There is a certain preordained number of times you can spin on your head on a piece of cardboard, after all (Jesus sets that number and the number is low because we spin through his grace).

One bad move and snap, you're dead, pancake. You got your fuckin neck broke, pancake.

Please don't move to Carolina or consider taking me with you except for the sweat and death of the south

2007-08-13T16:46:00.001-05:00

I've always been good with light, knowing just where to push it and how to make it point and barb and stab into eyes (not like lasers but like something less pointy) or just to let it be if that's what was required (and often it is the safest thing to let rest). To let it be.

I more prefer the dusk which I'm not good at but seems to suit me.

I translated all of our love notes into Elgamal (your favorite encryption algorithm).

I hope you can crack the code because I wrote some very provocative things about your tattoos and how you should redo them so I like them better. But you'll figure it out.

Remember my plan about beauty pageants for the beautiful people in every time zone? Well, I think it's catching on. Mitt Romney's campaign may support it and then when he's the next president we'll finally have our dream. Well, my dream, you dream is harder to get.

He didn't go for it until I mentioned that it'd be great if you could travel to other time zones and destroy and eat the other beauticians and take their powers of time travel. That caught his eye. I guess he may even run for that sweet office after president but I may own everything by then.

If it goes into action I'll have to move to Greenland so I can win that time zone straight off. I hope you'll come with me because you know I have being alone in the pale deserts.

Write back soon and please use Elgamal because that's the one I know.

Ticker ticker little tack there's a grubworm in my sack

2007-08-07T16:03:00.001-05:00

I wish I could have a baby so that I could sell my breast milk on the black market. I'd call it Father's Seret Milk Pleasures now with 25% more testosterone for growing boys and I'd sell it at Whole Foods so the hippies could finally raise strong boys instead of the weak, dirty ones they so often foster.

Know what I wonder? How many homo incidents grow out of boys doing don't cross the stream jokes in the bathroom or in the woods or in backyards?

And then they cross the streams and things become clear and they break the laws of nature and then the jokes on them because they go to hell.

Well, at least one that I know of.

It's a beautiful day for a bus trip to England

2007-07-26T12:13:00.001-05:00

I've revoked your access key because you broke the End User License Agreement (eula).

I'm afraid you've whored it all up and I can't even get it to boot anymore or do any of the things which it used to do so well and I can't believe you clicked Accept when you didn't mean to Accept the eula in the first place and instead replace our trust agreement with dirty deceit.

I've revoked your access key and now you have nowhere to do the things you need to do and I'm sorry but it was your folly which brought down the revocation of everything.

I may not even go to your wedding or bring you a wedding gift because of the eula situation. I may not even show up to eat the free chicken pasta you're providing for 12 dollars a person.

Unless there's an open bar.

Is the Lohan still in jail?

2007-07-20T16:33:00.001-05:00

Let me start with a question of my own, if I may.

Isn't EST wonderful? It's the greatest time zone in the whole world (even better than GMT, whatever that is) and I celebrate it because it's a truth and one which is new to me.

I used to think it was PST which was the best but now I see that PST is a bunch of fags. Sorry PST (you fags).

I wish you had an ISBN number for a name so I could call you that instead of by your long, boring name, Angela.

Someone sent me a little something and at first I didn't get it but then I did.

This is the quote he sent (you don't know him or I'd tell you his name (it's Jeremy, lol)):

ATLANTA - The courtroom was packed with supporters and cameras Friday as Georgia's top justices heard arguments over whether a young man serving a 10-year prison term for consensual oral sex with a fellow teenager should be freed.

Wilson's lawyer, B.J. Bernstein, said that Wilson's decade-long mandatory sentence violated the constitutional ban on cruel and unusual punishment.

B.J. Bernstein. You can't make that shit up. I mean, you can, but it's very boring when you do it. But when it's irl, it's pretty funny.

So I got to thinking...the deep south is a bad venue to plan a bj festival--even a consensual one.

Finally, I guess I can tell you that I read the first Cormic McCarthy book and the only complaint is that his name is hard to spell. Too hard. As if he lorded it over you and he does.

I read The Road and the only thing it lacked was a healthy dose of tna (tits AND ass) and zombies and zombie dogs. But it was pretty good other than that, you should probly borrow my copy, I wrote lots of notes so that you'll be able to understand better.

Oprah read it too. She really did like it quite well, like I done.

Guess what RIAA? I'm stealing all your nice things.

2007-06-25T14:57:00.001-05:00

Please, someone update me on the Paris Hilton sitchy. I've been out of the country for a couple weeks doing fund raising measures and have been out of touch.

Properly said, I have not been out of the Nebraska territories, not necessarily the country but I have been doing fund raising activities to support my agenda.

Someone, please tell me if the LA armies have raised up and freed Paris from her unfair prosecution or that the terror mobs I've been trying to hire, tell me if the terror mobs have made their blow agains the LA jail and legal system.

You see, I've been on a tour of the south and all the while I'm staying in Hilton's and hotels owned by Hilton's in order to add my small part to the Paris defense fund and to raise monies for the terror hoard mobs.

Let me tell you, it's been nice. I mostly spent my time watching scrambled pron channels. Can't scramble sound. That's the key to the scrambling, a high volume and a keen imagination.

I've also been eating at the free breakfasts you get and I must admit that I ate more in free omlettes than I paid in room fees and I'm sorry about that Paris, but you know how good those free omlettes can taste when they're loaded with bacon.

And I must tell you because you don't know things, those beads really work.

Not the anals, those work but in a different way. The boob beads.

It's like magic, you show a girl a bead and like a contract, she shows you things.

Not show so much as pelt. Pelt a girl with a bead and the windows of the heavens peep open just a bit to reveal some sun.

I was going to say we should cut our losses on the south and let them go before this tour but after the bead incident...

I say we let the stay a little longer.

45 days is not so bad at 3 days per day like some virtual time warp.

2007-06-08T16:26:00.001-05:00

Dear Jesus,

Please send down an army of angels (or at least six very strong ones who aren't prone to sodomy (unlike the ones sent to Lot(for they'll be going into deep prison full of malvirtue))) to rescue Paris Hilton from jail.

She has a bad case of something and they freed her from the odious bonds of slavery from drunk driving which she's sorry for and that's enough but now they want her blood.

P.S. I want nothing in return for this kind prayer unless you think I deserve a little something for it.

And then I read this on the innernet: "It isn't wise to keep a person in jail with her problem over an extended period of time and let the problem get worse," Baca told the Los Angeles Times on Thursday.

And I said to myself, "Yes. This is very true. That's a very serious problem for an extended period of jail. Of course it will get worse, right?"

But then I wondered to myself...what if it's TB?

I bet Paris has the TB like that douchebag lawyer what flew around the world so he could get married.

I bet LiLo's dad done it to her.

He's a madman.

I've got a million megabytes of megamemory in store

2007-06-07T16:23:00.001-05:00

I golfed with a ladies set of golf clubs and now i have a yeast infection. I've been drinking cranapple juice but it still itches real bad.

I'll bet mean people get so pissed off when they see those Mean People Suck bumper stickers. Plus it's dangerous, right? I mean if it's a mean person they could shoot you, or worse, so I just don't even put them on my car. The bumper stickers. It's not like Jews suck cause what would they do? LOL. Sing you a Koran verse? I doubt it.

I also may get one what says, Muslim Men Between the ages of 17 and 37 Suck. What are they going to do, quickly run up and suicide bomb you? LOL. I don't think so.

So anyway, I hope that when I go to jail that people start to respect me more of a Paris Hilton figure than that of her trash sister Nicky Hilton (I hate her so bad) like they currently do. I try to have my guiding principles follow hers and I got a new dog that's small like what she has but it's not a purebred, lol.

But I could be going to jail soon from this and that and parole issues that I was framed on and I guess a hunger strike is the way out of that mess. But I really could use a little extra fanfaire like what she has got. So I'm doing her kind of things, now like taping the sex should that opportunity ever happen and I'm praying it will, some day.

Here's a picture I would have made had I thought of it (I didn't think of it except after I saw it then I had quite a thought): http://i196.photobucket.com/albums/aa246/bladecjc/haventforgot.jpg

This is a gmailer

2007-05-29T16:55:00.001-05:00

I often wonder if you had sex with a zombie, would you also get the zombie sickness and would she get a baby.

I guess you'd have to use a condom to be for certain that nothing bad was going to happen which is kind of sad when you're out hitting zombie strange.

Kinda sucks the adventure out of the whole adventure.

I suppose a good plan B would be to use an extra amount of lube--like four times more than normal and also to quickly pee when done. To flush the system.

That might work.

And guess what else?

The hiv.

What if you have it? Can you pass it on to a zombie? Do they then get the hiv and die in four years from the aids?

That would be kind of sad, I guess.

For the zombie.

Even though she was a slutty one.

Does being a zombie protect you from the STDs--as if you was a walking condom of death?

If so, that's a definite check in the win column on being a zombie.

I'm so uptight, I'm sorry

2007-05-24T21:42:00.000-05:00

I think that if hot dogs grew off of pigs like 12 inch skin tags that I would like hot dogs at least 40% better.

Plus if you add on to the fact that when you chopped off the skin tags with a sharp butcher knife the pigs let out a wild giggle of glee and that the blood that poured out was syrup or beer or that old cologne Obsession.

And I know it's asking for too much, but if the shorn skin tag dogs could then sing old black songs from the 40s like are in the Disney shows while you swallowed them down...that would sure be a sight.

I would then like hot dogs better.

I like them pretty well, currently, especially with ketchup and kraut.

But not so well as singing skin pig tags.

You should steal the innernet

2007-05-21T20:58:00.000-05:00

If you and me had a semen tasting contest, I'd surely win.

I would use a beer bong with the largest funnel and I'd pour it all in such that the turgid flow smoothed right down my throat and into my stomach without a taste (except the accursed telltale burps which warn the world of the dubious doings).

You'd gulp in down in turns, tasting every morsel, because you never could relax your throat sphincter like your sister tried to teach you.

In a way that's a personal failing of yours.

But you know that's not what I meant by tasting.

You know I know that my semen tastes better than yours and that it would be a taste test with your wife who will vouch for the higher flavor and viscosity of mine.

Though, I suppose in a way, you may win from the taste of novelty. That novelty vote sure can swing powerful emotions.

I kind of hope you win.

Because I have a big heart.

If I was a spy I'd be dead by now

2007-05-11T17:14:00.000-05:00

This is how you'll know me.

I'm in Omaha which is an established fact and I wear corduroy trousers all about town to protect me from potential motorycle burns. I have a tattoo on my right arm of your mom's name and it's spelled wrong, of course, but we both know what it says. Her name is Beth or something and I have it spelled Belinda but it's all the same thing.

The other thing is that you'll see that I am Love and it will ring true. I am love.

I met a woman who has never had an orgasm, recently.

Never. Ever. Not even self-induced.

I met her in a grocery store checkout line.

Ok, that's a lie. The line part. That would be fun banter to throw around whislt waiting for your turn to pay.

Anyway, I believe we should set up a fund to get her a new vagina and someone fine to play with.

Send me the money, of course, and I'll spend it on looking for potential vaginas and also on alcohol (plural of vagina is vaginae(even in something as simple as a plural vaginas are complicted)).

I'll scour the earth for you.

For her.

For us, darling.

For us.

For me.

For me.

I'll bet I'm taller than you.

2007-05-09T23:56:00.000-05:00

I have prayed that the Utah Jazz would win their game and they have won and what more proof do you need that there is a God? The one Xian God with sideburns and a hooka!

On other news, I have invented a tool which will stop you from looking at cleavage.

You should not be looking at the split of the rack, in fact, it should not even be showing at all. That's devil's play that thin line in the fleshy sand.

The invention is a set of glasses with needles that go where the eyes normally go.

Does it work, though?

Oh, yes.

It works!

Thank me later, ladies.

Finally, I think that another better option for Carbonite is Shea butter.

It not only would be very good for encasing but when you finally came out you would smell good, be refreshed and your skin would be vital.

Nine O'clock feels late

2007-05-03T21:22:00.000-05:00

If I was a referee I would be biased toward the white people.

Then if anyone confronted me about it like Jesse Jackson or those other liberal savages I would refer to a certain law in this land called Affirmative Action.

Because you might think that white people are better at sports but that's not true. All you have to do is look at Basketball.

And football, soccer, baseball, cricket (I know, I know, white people don't care about cricket (except the stupid Australians) (And the Kiwis) (Kiwis are lesser Australians) but because I'm a lawyer I have to include it in order to live up to the "Letter of the Law.")

The only sport I can think of where I wouldn't necessarily favor the white guy is chess.

In chess I'd favor the non-Russian. And I definitely wouldn't favor those shitty little kids who win at the age of 7. Fuck them. Try to show me up? Not on my watch, Tatum O'Neil.

Or maybe I'd just let the Russians win. What else do they have? It's so sad.

Perestroika. Nonsense word.

Yeah, that worked out.

I hope Tyson loses.

2007-05-02T21:59:00.000-05:00

Gynecomastia if funny but only on others.

Diplopiac Gynecomastia.

Gynecomastia mastication.

Medical journals are not fun. At all.

Guess what else, I hope Jesus hates ants because I sure do.

I just killed about 8 million of them.

I bet if there was a Jedi ant he'd feel a disturbance in the force from all that spraying I done and then he'd lean over on some other ant like he was going to feint.

I bet he does that shit all the time. "Oh, I feel a disturbance in the force, blah blah blah."

I hate people like that.

Just pick up some seeds and stop wilting like some Jedi flower.

Use the force if you want, fine, fine, just get the damn seeds. Jesus.

We know your game.

Pate is gross

2007-05-01T22:07:00.000-05:00

I'll bet this is what broke up Paul McCartney and that one cripple girl who had her leg shot off by the communists.

I'll bet they were fighting and Paul said, "You're half the woman Linda was."

And that was it, know what I mean?

The cripple girl lost it and was all, how can you say such a thing? And she moves her hand up and down to stress those words, too. Slowly. Like this: *wave hand slowly and say, "how can such a thing be said?"*

See?

And you know how Paul is, he's harmless. He realizes his mistake and he owns up to it. He says (hoping to clarify the issue), "No, it's a metaphor. A metaphor."

But it's clearly too late.

Damage has been done.

The goose is out of the paddock, as they say.

The one legged man in an ass kicking contest has surprisingly won a fair amount of cash, pre-nup be damned.

And you know how girls with one leg can be. You look down your nose at them or you glare at their stub a bit too long and they go ballistic.

You should have called me first, Paul.

I know all the tricks with the stubby gals.

(They don't get metaphors)

If I sprout wings you may not touch them

2007-04-30T21:08:00.000-05:00

I'll bet the inventor of the ham megaphone didn't make nearly what it's worth on the open market. Probably he didn't even sell even one except to his mother and she's an invalid and has to buy his inventions because he has power of attorney.

And that's the problem with inventing.

You come up with an idea, say ... mixing a ham and a megaphone and you get a product that the world has craved and didn't even know about it.

I'll bet you'd want to call it a Hamaphone.

If you had been the inventor WHICH YOU ARE NOT THE INVENTOR--I AM.

I know it doesn't technically boost your voice...in fact it has the opposite effect...a muffled hammy mumble as you sit and talk through the fat and tissue of delight.

I'll bet Crab Men invented velcro years before us

2007-04-24T15:54:00.000-05:00

I'll bet when vampires throw up it's always blood and when they see what's come out, they're all, "Oh, dear. Look at this. Rhenfield, get the car, I'm grievous ill."

Then they remember that they're vampires.

Then they're all.

"Oh, yeah. I guess I did eat that. LOL. Never mind, Rhenfield, it was just indigestion, go back to your ants."

But I'll bet vampires don't vomit all that much, as a rule. Except the anorexic ones. And that's just to be pretty.

So that makes sense.

And what else.

Was she serious with the one tissue wiping comment?

I just want you to know that when I commence to wiping I send one tissue in to tell the rest of the tissues that their cozy life is about to become stained with a grief that not even a good flushing will fully mend.

Environment be damned.

Serious.

One tissue.

Dirty-fingered finger sniffers.

Pooping in a bag would suck

2007-04-16T21:49:00.000-05:00

I imagine whenever Darth Vader says that so-and-so seems gay all the people laugh behind his back.

I like to think in my brain that they refer to Darth's intuition as the Vaydar Gaydar and then they giggle, as I giggle among them but they would never say that to Darth's face because he would choke them with the force.

Especially Grand Moff Tarkin.

That's the gayest name in the Degobah System--even after the destruction of Tatooine.

What kind of mother names the son Grand Moff?

That's right. One who wants to turn her son gay from the abuses of young youth.

I bet Grand Moff was bullied a lot as a kid. Big Vagina Tarkin. That's a bitter pill to swallow as a young boy, I can imagine.

In a way he kind of deserved it for having such an unfortunate name.

In a way and really?

In every way.

Time travel is hard

2007-04-12T21:01:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I wish that I was Billy Bob Thornton because then I would have had crazy sex with Angelina Jolie a few years ago.

People would always ask me, was that bitch as crazy as she seems?

I'd be all, she wore my blood around her neck, didn't she?

Damn right, she did.

She tattooed my name on her arm, too.

Damn right, she did.

You have any woman ever tattoo your name on her arm?

No. That's right. Because you're not Billy Bob Thornton.

You didn't do Sling Blade. You didn't play a football coach in that one movie. I did. Me, Billy Bob Thornton. I saw Hallie Berry naked in the flesh and pressed her boobs against my hairy chest.

And while it's sad that I assumed his identity after him and the Jolie split up, it's kind of good in a way. If you think about it, I'll always have the good memories of the sex and the blood we wore around our necks, and all of the chaos we had at the end of our relationship? Time has healed.

And I beat Brad Pitt to her crotch.

How many men can say that?