Breaking News
Cycle of a News Story
Back in the early days, if a caveman saw a saber tooth tiger (or Adam saw an untamed dino) he would run back to his cave (or his garden) and gesture effusively while grunting (or have a polite conversation with Eve and the snake). Then everyone would know to avoid the danger and be effectivley caught up with the current events of the day. A little later as we became more civilized, news would spread through gossip and quiet innuendo until somebody was burned at the stake. The town crier would cry it, and that was the end of the story.
Who to hate!
It wasn’t so long ago that newspapers and serious anchormen took over, and the news game really started to change. People came to trust and depend on these people and publications. How else would they know who to hate, who to fear and who to love? Back then nothing happened unless The Times or Walter Cronkite damn well told you it happened.
Needless to say things have changed exponentially since then. Now you have a million different sources telling you a million different things. But no matter who is telling you what, the whole mechanism for a news story is universal. This is not just about Crotching Tiger/Hidden Driver, it’s the same cycle for almost everything.
-First an event/death/murder/19th baby/affair/war/crime….may or may not occur.
-Someone will inadvertently snap a few incriminating cell phone pics/drunk twitter/talk/or angry Facebook status update.
-The National Enquirer will get wind of the story, put their head down and barrel towards the endzone.
-The common folk will now begin murmuring. As they do.
-TMZ will smell blood in the water and send in the sharks.
-Someone will at this point, without fail…
A) Wreck a SUV into a tree while being chased by a 9-iron wielding, infuriated Swede.
B) Get Arrested
C) Come out
D) Commence a low speed chase through LA.
E) Enter the hospital (exhaustion)
F) Enter a rehab (exhaustion related crack use)
G) Overdose
H) Die of unknown causes.
I) Issue an ambiguous statement
This is the point in the story’s life that the proverbial shit hits the phucking fan. There is now nonstop 24/7 coverage. If an anchor must read that The Enquirer broke the story first, it must be said with a smirk and with the taste of bile prominently fixated in their throat. Every network now must quickly decide if the person in question is a ‘friend’ of the network or a ‘friend’ of the network’s political slant. Now all the networks start calling the person in question’s publicist, promising ‘soft’ coverage if they can get the scoop. You know, the ‘real’ scoop, not that white-trash fodder that the Enquirer printed.
Now it’s time for the ‘personalities’ to weigh in. O’Reilly and his cronies will either call out the person in question as a secular progressive, a scumbag or a hypocrite, or they will chastise the public and media for not showing respect and privacy. Olberman and his legion will state the polar opposite of the enemy’s opinion, and do it convincingly. You see, they happen to know that if they were ever to agree on anything, even accidentally, the universe would implode upon itself. Then no matter what the story and no matter what the circumstances…….
-Anderson Cooper will revolve. The entire way around.
-Glenn Beck will cry for America’s lost greatness.
-Sanja Gupta will way in on any and all medical implications.,
-Nancy Grace will get mad and demand justice.
-Steve Ducey will be confused but manage to chuckle speculatively.
Networks will now call in every expert (read.. right priced idiot with a book deal) to argue every point of contention, making sure to never, ever allow such trivial minutia as ‘the facts’ to get in the way of a good thing. Like maybe another book deal. At this point every new development in the case/story/birth/death/scandal will be announced with a bright red (read scarlet letter) banner announcing the brain weight/birth weight/lethal concoction/type-o-condom/type-o-club used.
The story will continue to ebb and flow like a radioactive tide on Lake Karachey until two tasks are successfully completed by the presumed perpetrator.
The first is to manage to hit a single with the softball that’s thrown to them on Larry King. And just because he has the marbleized, ice cold flesh of the ancient vampire that he is, does not mean that he’s not a nice man. He will do everything in his supernatural power to make sure that the ‘guest’ is comfortable and appropriately pitied. A warning must be issued at this point however; do NOT fuck this up. If you rip your mike off and walk off in haste, the story, much like King himself will never, ever, ever die. –See Prejean.
The second step is Oprah. As long as the celebrity/criminal/whatever…I’m tired of using slashes/, doesn’t do anything too crazy like punch the bitch in the face, or admit that she is the one, true antichrist…..then the story can finally be put to bed. Then finally, it’s all over and everyone can move on with the next distraction to keep them from focusing on their own lives.
Worst Weekend Ever
I don’t usually use my blog as an outlet to complain….actually I do, but it’s not usually personal to me. It’s usually about the Rapture Ready freaks or some other fringe group of nut jobs that got my panties in a bunch by flying onto my radar. But this time I have to, otherwise the built up pressure in my brain will likely be unleashed with an obscenity laced tirade against some poor, innocent 87 year old drunk guy who I find casually pissing on my house. That happens at least once or twice a week, by the way.
See, I had the four-day weekend From Hell. I went out on Friday night and had my fill of Spanish beer. Alhambra Reserva 1925 which boosts an alcohol content of 6.4% and goes down like water. You do realize what you’ve done the next day though when the LSU marching band is doing a halftime show within your head, and Pyrotechnico is doing the Fourth of July show behind your eyes. It was in this deplorable condition that I was awoken on Saturday morning to the execrable, ungodly sound of screaming pigs. After I drug myself from the peaceful bliss of unconsciousness to the real world of swine massacre, I went out onto my terrace to find my wife crying her eyes out. It was really upsetting, listening to the sheer terror that the two stressed, dying pigs were eloquently communicating.
I’m sure that they cut their throats, but I don’t know if whoever did it really sucked at cutting throats or used a butter knife to do the job. It lasted a full half hour and that’s way too long of a time for an animal to know that it’s dying. I made the mistake of looking over the edge of my terrace to find a literal river of blood flowing down out of the back alley. The air soon became thick with flies. I should’ve gotten a photo of the blood river, but I didn’t until it was mostly dried up and rinsed away. After they gutted the animals they threw the entrails on the street for the dogs. Our dog became so nervous/upset about the commotion that he decided to count to three all over our kitchen floor.
remnants of the river of blood
I also somehow managed to forget that there was some obscure fiesta both Monday and Tuesday which means that EVERY business in Spain was shut down. There are no convenience stores here. Because it is a short, beautiful walk into town, I’ve gotten into the habit of buying my food fresh, daily. I always go to the panderia and get just baked integral ‘loafy’ bread; I don’t buy a loaf of bread. They don’t really have frozen or caned goods here like they do back home so what else could I do but pick up my food daily? I get my chicken breast, and fruit and veggies daily as well. So arriving in town on Monday morning to find a ghost town was a real bummer.
I’m not saying that we starved, I would’ve begged some bacon off of my butchering neighbors before that, but I had to get really creative in the kitchen. We ended up having to eat some really odd combinations of food. Lucky I’m a decent cook, or it really would’ve really sucked. That was the first time I ever made chick pea (garbanzo) and egg patties and they were great. Even without a God damned bun. I had to eat my nightly PB&J on about 48 crackers. If I made a list of all we had to go without for 3 days it would seem meaningless, but when you are actually going without a few minor necessities like bread, it fucks up your day.
A calm moment
Then to top it all off my cat decided to go full tard. It’s fine to go half tard, but you never, ever go full tard. Every night at around 9:30 he gets a bug up his ass and goes completely ape shit crazy. His tail puffs out like a squirrel on crack, he starts doing this insane, sideways bouncy trot and he goes nuclear (the way Bush pronounces nuclear) on the hapless dog. They then chase each other around the cement floors all over the house bouncing into furniture left and right.
Not a cat perch
This Sunday night during spastic time, Corky the cat leaps onto our Ben Franklin style fireplace. For two years we’ve had the cat and the fireplace. He didn’t do it when he was Corky the kitten so why in the hell would he do it now? He let out an eardrum shattering meowl before diving back off. I tried to run his paws under cold water but he wasn’t having too much of that. No vet in the whole country was open, even if only to give him a pain shot. Now after three days the pads of his feet are a lot less red, but he’s still walking gingerly and slinking around looking pissed off. I think he’s just embarrassed that he made the mistake of going full tard.
Lots of other stuff happened to make it the worst weekend ever, including power cuts which always happen the second before I hit save, my wife broke a mirror Tuesday, our house is now overrun with flies…………………… but I’m done venting. I’ll be funnier next post…..I hope.
Winner/Bonus/Caption Contest
The winner is…..
Capitalistliontamer with “The Carlsburghs continued on after losing their water rights, declaring they needed no water and that the “motherfucker” could “burn” for all they cared.”
Bonus shot…
New Caption Contest…
Fuck you
After all the great entries I got on the last one, I decided to make this one a little harder. You know the drill, just beat my caption for a beautiful blue link and some international recognition. Yay.
Keywords and Search Terms
When I started this blog nine months ago I read all about the importance of keywords for generating stats and comments. So far as I can tell by now they were full-o-shit. I see the ways and means that people come to my blog and it’s very rarely because of such trendy google superstars as Amy Winehouse or Vatican Investigates Aliens. Hardly ever. Other than the regulars that I’ve come to know via other people’s blogs, I don’t ever get any new good people.
visits my blog
I get psychopaths.
They come to my blog not because of keywords that I’ve used but through some cosmic practical joke that the universes of google and WordPress must have decided to play on me. I did a post a couple months back about the gross butcher shops in Spain called The Butcher of Seville, and unfortunately that one post has drawn the freaks more than a meth party on a full moon in the middle of a Pagan festival for psycho freaks. I get a couple variations of these each and everyday………
Decomposing flesh
Women butcherin
Hanging girlmeat
Hanging gerl meet
Rotten flesh
Butcher hairy assholes
Butchering, butchered butchers butch – A little OCD are we?
Delisus girl meat
German wife Butchering
These are but a tiny fraction of what causes me to take a shower at least twice a day and pour bleach into my eyes. If any of you are reading this now I urge you, no I command you to seek professional help, and some very strong psychotropic medications immediately. Also maybe turn on your spell-checker. I was going to go off on a tangent telling you how repulsive and reprehensible you are but I am literally (that means for real) afraid of you. I do understand the appeal of some playful bondage. Seeing a beautiful woman with her hands behind her back in some fuzzy pink handcuffs does a little something for me. But that probably has more to do with the exposed breasts than the handcuffs. But if you’re searching out hanging gerl meet, please go tell a doctor what mommy did to you so that you can stop being a twisted, sick fuck. Please.
Now on a lighter note, here are some funnier search terms that people have somehow used to find my poor, defenseless, pink handcuff wearing blog. I’ll try to answer some of the search terms that you posed in finding your way here……….
-Are Vodka bad for cats? – It depends largely on the breed. If you have a Russian Blue, it’s probably ok. But remember; everything in moderation. Vodka can be bad for grammer though.
Totally healthy kitty
-Milf Feet – I guess as far as fetishes go, this isn’t nearly as crazy as I would have thought a year ago
-Italian drunk pissers – I’m half Italian, and you’re dead on. Even after 3 or 4 beers, I’m pissing every couple minutes. And I’m a real pisser too.
-Glorious Erection – Thank you! I don’t hear that too often.
-www.bother.siester.sex.com – Sorry, the bastards at google got you lost. They probably sent you to me because you almost spelled siesta.
-Nerd at walmart –I’d say probably. Try Target instead.
-Old lady ass- There are probably many websites dedicated to GILF’s. Just google it. Wait, no don’t do that, you’ll wind up back here. Find yourself a URL.
-Woman Gypsy fucked tree – I don’t really know the logistics of how that would work. Even if the tree had a protuberance, it would take hours, even days of sanding.
lucky tree
-What time do roofers wake up at –They wake up whenever Chuck’s nuts tell them to wake up. Believe that shit.
-What does shooting a lobster mean? – Try sounding it out.
-Drunken Dachshund?- Unfortunately no, my dog has never developed a taste for beer or wine, much to my dismay.
-Eyes wide shut origin of phrase –This is a term for people who have found a new (or old) religion and decided to go all ape shit, maniacal over it, thus tightly closing their mental capacity (eyes) to reality.
-Where can I wash my balls in public? –Have you tried Wal-Mart?
-Fencible Corneys –What The Fuck?
-German wife pissing – What The Fuck?
-Do these jeans make my butt look big? –If you have to ask…….
-I need feet and ass – Well then go get you some feet and ass.
-Penis rings and cages for hubby. – Is this my wife? Karen, this better not be you.
-Can I find old man hairy balls? –If you look in the right places you sure can. Try Wal-Mart.
-How to prove to your friend that you’re not bi? – Pick a gender, any gender, and stick to that one gender. Also if your friend is not the gender that you’ve picked, don’t offer to perform oral sex. That should go a long way to proving that you’re not bi.
-Is this guy an asshole? –Finally a pertinent succinct querry leading to the right place! Yes, yes I am an asshole. Yes.
Westicus Was Robbed
If you don’t know these characters yet, where have you been? You can find out who they are here. Anyway, on with our story….. Ashtonisis woke up at 7pm with a devil may care attitude and his ne’er-do-well spirit soaring. He adroitly petted his cougar right where his cougar liked to be petted and having fulfilled his only daily responsibility in life, sought out to create a little ungodly mischief. He twittered, ‘Somegod’s about to get Punk’d. hehe. Stay tuned!’
What is the plural of ho?
He then sent Westicus a text complaining that Dane Cook was getting ready to receive a lifetime achievement award in comedy and had beaten out both Eddie Murphy and Richard Pryor for the honor. The event was to take place at the Biltmore hotel in less than an hour. As expected, this was more than Westicus could take. Honestly, Dane Fucking Cook? So Westicus immediately bolted out of his studio, leaving his ghetto-fabulous herd of ho’s unguarded.
Wasting no time, Ashtonisis swept into the studio and told the hos (or is it hoes, or maybe ho’s? No one in the elite grammar community can decide) that he’d make them all stars in Lifetime original movies. Or failing that, at least get them a gig or two doing soft-porn on Cinimax if only they’d come with him immediately. He then had them switch their swap meet footwear for shoes that he had specially made which displayed the tread backwards. This was so that when Westicus found their trail, he would head off in the wrong direction. After getting them safely tucked away in a place he knew that no one would ever find them, in one of his movies, he began to play with them the way that he was never allowed to play with his cougar.
A perfect hiding place
As their weaves came out one by one and began to pile up on the floor, he had an idea. He took all of the weaves and strung them together with his used condoms to make a musical instrument that sounded more angelic than anything ever heard before. He decided to call it the Dreamweaver. Ashtonisis saw what he had done and Ashtonisis was pleased.
He then rushed off back to the studio to meet Westicus as he was furiously entering. Ashtonisis then exuberantly exclaimed, “You just got Punk’d!” Westicus then shot him in the face and retorted, “You just got shot in the face, and I ain’t no punk.” As Ashtonisis immediately healed and began to pout, Westicus grabbed him by his luxurious brown locks and drug him across town to put the matter before Barackus.
Barackus was annoyed and showed it with a slight frown and a subtle voice inflection which no one noticed. Westicus ranted, “Yo B, this little bitch stoled my bitches. Then the bitch called ME a bitch.” Ashtonisis said, “No, I did not. I said You Got Punk’d. And you did!” Westicus then casually shot Ashtonisis in the face again. “Ow. Fuck that hurts. Fuck. Ow. Don’t do it again” whined Ashtonisis. Barackus interjected, “Now wait just a minute gentlemen, what we have here is a failure to communicate…” Westicus interrupted, “Don’t keep quoting old movies, everyone hates when you do that.” “Sorry,” replied Barackus, “Ashtonisis here has…well actually had, a show called Punk’d, he wasn’t calling you a punk.”
As Westicus struggled to grasp this new information, Ashtonisis began playing his Dreamweaver, which immediately entranced Westicus with its sibilant sounds. The music even evoked and enchanted Tyras who emerged from Barackus’ Oval Office beaming and almost chanting, “Fierce, oh that’s so fierce!” Westicus began gesturing effusively for the new instrument. “Oh, this shit is tight right here.” He said. “I’ll tell you what punk’d boy; Ima let you keep my hos, if you give up this instrument. Deal?” “Sold” agreed Ashtonisis, “just don’t shoot me in the face again.”
Barackus slipped back into his office with Tyras in tow. At that point it slowly dawned on Ashtonisis that Westicus could use the instrument to make millions, influence hordes of mortals, and probably even get an endorsement deal out of Trojan condoms. And all he got in exchange were a couple of really bad cases of VD. He became uncharacteristically sullen and twittered, ‘I just got Punk’d.’
Ban Divorce in California
I love it! John Marcotte, a Sacramento web designer has begun a campaign to outlaw divorce in California. The campaign is designed mostly as a comedic statement to hold California voters to their own high biblical standard after they passed Proposition 8 which outlawed gay marriage in 2008.
Although I’ve never personally been a political activist, I always thought that I would have been deeply involved in the civil rights campaigns in the 50’s and 60’s. It’s has dawned on me that although this fight isn’t nearly as violent, it is just as important. Does anyone really believe that people can choose to be gay now anymore than they chose to be black back then? In this age of supposed enlightenment, how can we still deny equal rights to all people?
The arguments are as usual, all about the bible. The same type of people who use it now to fight for gay marriage bans have used it in the past to condone slavery. They used to use the bible as judge, jury and executioner. They’ve used it to stone and burn people to death because of its words. God says homosexuality is an abomination? It also says that eating fucking shellfish is an abomination. For once, someone is actually doing something to hold these hypocrites to their own standards, and I applaud it.
I’m sure that the 70% of the ultra religious blacks and Latinos who voted in favor of prop 8 will have no problem voting for this newest infringement of rights considering their own divorce rate is so high. It would only help. The right wing Christians will surely all sign the petition since it is exactly what God wants. Other than infidelity (by the woman) there are no other legal grounds for divorce in God’s holy law. All sin is the same in Gods eyes right? So unless your wife was doing the landscaping crew, isn’t being divorced living in sin as well? Because even if you remarry the same person, you have still been divorced. The homosexuals can at least turn away from their supposed sin in the moment before death. But once you’re divorced you can’t ever escape that sin.
There is also the common argument that marriage and divorce is entirely up to the church. Well, that is perfectly fine, as long as we completely untangle federal and state law from the clutches of ‘church’ marriage. Having access to health insurance, end of life decisions and every other ‘partnership’ issue should simply be contingent upon a signed and notarized document handed into your local town hall.
If people want to deny other people basic human rights based on the bible then fine, but they should be forced to live by the exact same set of standards. I’m all for supporting other bans as well. Let’s ban two different crops being planted in the same field. Let’s ban wearing cloths made of two different fabrics. Let’s ban working on the sacred Sabbath. We can bring back the good old days but this time without the pestilence and plagues.
I urge anyone who is in support of this ban to sign the petition if they live in California or it becomes available online. You can show your support as well by buying a T-shirt here… http://rescuemarriage.org/. You can’t pick and choose your sacred laws people. So let’s make this thing happen and party like its 0099!
*Don’t forget about my caption contest below, just because I interrupted its spot at the top. This was just too good for me to pass up.
Winner/Bonus/New…
And the winner is…
Reb with… Photographer Daddy: “All my beautiful girls… Dammit mother I married her accept it! Oh honey, don’t give her anymore reasons…”
Bonus Shot…
The view on the drive down to Adra
New Caption Contest…
David Koresh Senior thought he’d beat those ATF boys to the punch.
Random Thoughts
I was going to call this post Deep Thoughts with the sub header ‘But probably not as deep as Jack Handey’s, and With More Strippers,’ but Candice beat me to that particular punch. Plus, I realized that there are no strippers in here at all so that wouldn’t really make sense. Anyway, I thought if I could get these on paper they’d stop taking up space in my small, cramped mind. If anyone has any answers to my many questions, please be a dear and enlighten me.
-Why do they call highways parkways? I mean, I know that traffic can be bad and all of that but aren’t you just jinxing the thing from the start?
-Why does she insist on going by Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio? When your last name is so long, why not drop Elizabeth at the very least? It’s a pain in the ass to even hear that name much less trying to fit it in the credits.
-I hate when I ask for directions and someone tells me to go to Oak Street and go north. How the fuck am I supposed to know which way is north? Do I look like Ponce de Leon to you?
-After at least 25 thousand (or whatever) years of civilization, how the hell did no one invent an effective mosquito/fly killer yet?
-I seem to function a lot better when I’m slightly horny. If I go 3 or more days without sex my mind is sharper, my thoughts are more precise, and my energy level is way higher. When I have too much sex I’m a lazy, useless shell of a man. All that being said, I can’t go more than 6 days without, or the cat will start looking sexy.
-I honestly can’t comprehend patriotism in the context that it is used by the Fox pundits. I do love America, and I’m proud of America, and I deeply appreciate the people who have sacrificed for the great nation. But in reality, you don’t have any choice where you are born. And most of the people that spout off about all of this nonsense haven’t done a thing to sacrifice personally. For all of her virtues America has a piss poor track record of being ‘the greatest country on earth.’ God didn’t hand it to the amazing religious white man. They came in, butchered the indigenous peoples, and stole it. We were one of the last countries to condone slavery. There are still to this day not equal rights for all people. I can’t grasp how this is always tidily glossed over in Beck’s and Hannity’s monologs. I don’t understand how they can make all of these outrageous claims about the absolute greatness of a country, and not want their own sick, poor and helpless to be taken care of. Why do these perfect Christians always show the most unchristian like characteristics?
-Who reads Prince Valiant or Mary Worth and why?
-I expected so much out of Tarentino after Pulp Fiction. What ever happened to him and his brilliant dialogue?
-I don’t mean for this to be an indictment of the American public school system, as much as wanting to point out what is wrong with the current mainstream ideology in the US. It’s been my experience that the average European citizens, be they lager louts in the UK, Romanian ruffians, German teenagers or Spanish ecstasy addicts are overwhelmingly more cultured and knowledgeable about the world. I found that I can have an intelligent conversation discussing art, literature, and world history with damn near anyone I meet here. I’ve come across drunks sitting in a bar first talking about Rembrandt and going on to coups in Thailand. Even the window lickers over here have a grasp of current events in the world.
I think the US has become so self-centered as a society that there is little room for anything else. Everywhere I’ve ever been in the world, when you turn on the news they cover the whole world, but you’d have to watch hours of CNN or FOX to catch a minute of anything happening anywhere else. They’d rather cover a 10 person protest on the Boise Idaho city hall than cover riots on the streets in France or the bloodshed in Sudan. And this has caught up with our children. I honestly can’t tell you how many people have asked me how long it takes to drive to England from Florida. You just have to turn on Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader to see what I mean. But if you don’t believe me, the next time you’re in a Wal-Mart or a bar strike up a conversation with a total stranger about something outside the sphere of US influence, and you’ll be shocked. I know I always was. I love my country just as much as Beck, and gosh darn it…..I just don’t want to see it produce fucking idiots.
-Why wasn’t Sex and the City called Sex in the City? Seriously?
-Why is it called black Friday? I get the ‘in the black’ connotation but seriously when you have black Tuesday and the black death why put it on the day after Thanksgiving. Maybe they could call it ‘Begin Paying 21% Interest to Visa Day! –sponsored by Visa!
-I seem to like the idea of some things more than I like the things themselves. I like the romantic idea of being homeless in Costa Rica more than I’d probably like the reality of it. I like the idea of going to the running of the bulls more than I’d like a horn ripping through my thigh. I like the idea of writing a book more than sitting down and writing it. I like the idea of having sex with blond twins more than I’d like the sex, especially since twins freak me out a little. I like the idea of being married to Tyras more than I’d…….actually; I think I’d be ok with that one.
Revenge of the Gods
If you don’t know these characters yet, where have you been? You can find out who they are here. In the last episode, Heffneus threw a party for the Gods during which OJ cut off a mortal’s head in an surprising moment of rage. Heffneus was obviously perturbed by this and vowed revenge…
Cheneyticus, Cruiseus, Palina and Heffneus all meet at Heff’s mansion to plot their revenge in the interests of evil. He has gathered those whom he considers his closest allies of the day. As the God of wine as well as madness, this is a constantly revolving ally list because of the blackouts….and the madness. He has picked Cheneyticus and Cruiseus because of their allegiance to the dark side and ability to manipulate the masses, and he has allowed Palina to come because she’s hot.
Heffneus began, “Thank you for coming. As you all know I have been shown a great disrespect by OJ.” He was interrupted my Palina, “Well hiya, I broughtcha a signed copy of my book for ya!” Heffneus grabbed the book out of her hand and immediately used it as a coaster for his overflowing Crunk Cup. “Please don’t interrupt me again Palina, it’s rude.” He then continued his tirade against OJ, “That foolish oaf can’t just come to my party and cut the head off of one of my guests. It was rude and not at all sexy, and I won’t stand for it. My penis almost became dreadfully flaccid, so obviously my penis won’t stand for it either.” He then grabbed his erection to show his erection’s support.
“Why is Phelpius passed out on your couch?” asked Cruiseus. Heffneus replied, “I think he lives here now. See how damn cute he is? When he strokes and kicks like that he’s dreaming he’s swimming. I brought in a stoner-whisperer to train him. I’ll make sweet love to him after I get a nice cankle massage.”
Cheneyticus- “Well, you’re just a disgusting pervert aren’t you?”
Heffneus- “I could remind you that your daughter delights in gay love, as do I.”
Cheneyticus- “Grmphh aghrr.”
Heffneus- “What was that? That’s what I thought bitch.”
Cruiseus- “You’re both so polluted with thetans. I must take you to meet my friends.”
Palina- “Ya know, you’re muckin about with some dangerous stuff there mister. Those are occultist practices. You need the Holy Spirit to fix ya right up.”
Cruiseus- “You’re being glib, you moron.”
Heffneus- “Will you two please just shut the fuck up? This is all about me. Look at me. Look at my glorious erection!”
Cheneyticus- “Grumphh agaghh errr.”
Cruiseus- “Lord Xenu.”
Palina- “Well, ya got that goin for ya, dontcha!”
Suddenly the lights dimmed as if by their own accord. War Pigs by Black Sabbath started playing in the background and Cheneyticus began, “I have concocted a stereotypically nefarious plan…” He was interrupted by Cruiseus, “Why don’t you just take him hunting?” Cheneyticus answered, “Why don’t you just go fuck yourself?” Heffneus interjected with, “Didn’t you wear that line out on the floor of the senate?” “Haha, good one Heff!” Cheneyticus continued, “Now do you want your revenge or not?”
“Ok then, here’s what we do…We lead OJ to believe that he’s been cast in The Naked Gun 44 ½ ‘Is Leslie Nielsen Really Still Alive?’ We send him and a fake film crew composed of my Blackwater boys to Afghanistan to ‘shoot’ a ‘scene.’ We set up a meeting with high level Al-Qaida operatives as part of the ‘plot.’ We plant heroin, bombs, a Koran, and architectural plans for the Sydney Opera House in his hotel room. Maybe a head too. You just can’t have enough evidence against that slippery bastard. Anyway, we get him to read his ‘script’ filled with incriminating lines, filming it all. As soon as we yell cut, we send in my spooks to extraordinarily rendition his black ass. We throw him in a hole somewhere. With any luck at all Barackus will come to his defense and claim we set him up. We can then accuse Barackus of being soft on terror and of being a secret heroin warlord. We’ll get Cryboy, Ditto and The Beav to spin it all in our favor….
The God of death will be locked away.
Heffneus will have his revenge.
We can move for a Godly impeachment.
And maybe, just maybe The Throne will be mine again! Oh, I’m back baby, and it feels so right! How does next month work for you guys?”
Cruiseus flipped through Dianetics, took a Niacin tablet and smiled.
Palina said, “You betcha!”
Heffneus grabbed his throbbing erection and threw up into his Crunk Cup, which then spilled over onto Palina’s book.
Phelpius dreamed he was swimming, stroking and kicking the couch.
Winner/Workspace/New Caption Contest
And the winner is….
Donald Mills with, “Two, two, two, I have two dollars from the man in the third row. Do I hear three? Three dollars? Anyone?” He won this week by a landslide of popular opinion.
My workspace…
I completely stole this idea from FJ since I was new to the game when he was doing his workspace posts, and didn’t get to participate. I used to sit and write on my terrace until my neighbor came home with two pigs. Now, we have a fly problem. So now I jump in the car and four minutes later, I’m here. I don’t mean to show off buts it’s what I do when I’m not busy stealing ideas.
New Caption contest…
Damiena was excited to practice her new powers of mind control, easily making the adults turn on each other.
