It's time you started listening to your great-half-stepuncle-in-law, Billy!

What I am trying to say is that I have recently discovered Blogger Images and would like to make the following comments:

In other recent news the President was shot dead by a three inch tall humanoid who claimed his name was Storkyorkyorkyorkyorkyorkyorkyorkyorkyorky (he of the ten orkies) and then vanished into thin air. Also, Journey decided to do one last farewell reunion tour and accidentally rocked the Earth so hard that they threw it out of orbit and it crashed right into Mercury. I'm sure you'll be hearing about that soon. Another thing that is fascinating about today is that it is Opposite Day and EVERYONE DIES HORRIBLY (first rule of Opposite Day). There is also a rumor that Tom Cruise has lost his effing small mind and is ranting like a four star crazed loony goon across all major media outlets.

"Hi, I'm Tom Cruise, and nobody plays a dude who is dealing with an alien invasion quite as well as I do because I've been invaded by aliens six times and even once by Canada. I just wish everyone could know as much about psychiatry as me and also I'm richer than everyone in the world which makes me like unto a god. Am I right or WHAT?!?! THE MARQUIS HAS MANDATED MY RULE! IG NORP THON SACURAE MICH HOMIDI!!!"

-Tom Cruise

Trash Your House Like A Fake Party And Build A Friend Out Of Gunpowder Day!

Wow. So. The one night I am actually on the internet and there is not a single living soul anywhere in sight. That is so flipping typical. You'll have to excuse me now as I'll be sitting in the corner weeping openly for the next 12 hours.

Man. I cannot even effing get a hold of my friend Davis who is up at all effing hours of the effing night. Effing dude.



Hey: Someone's gonna buy me a FUGGING KEYBOARD!!!!!!chocolate

Hey Launchcast: Play some damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn rock. playitnowihateyousomucharrrrrrrrgggghhh

Hey people with no faces: What happened to your faces?! Holy SHHEEEEE-IT!!! Oh wow, your no-face makes me feel like throwing up.

Hey me: THE INDENTURED SERVANTS ARE PISSED.

Hey Jack Handey: Why aren't you not still having sex with Susan Sarandon's niece-in-law yesterday morning?

Hey grabby-hands lady (from two buildings down the street that is slightly north by northeasterly from here) who stands outside on Tuesday who I have never spoken with: Remember when my wife left me? Why didn't you try to stop her? WHY?!?!?! Remember when my son perished? WHY?!?!?!?!?!?

Hey Bill Gates: Stop it.

Hey jealousy: Maybe we can drive around this town.

Hey everyone I ever knew: MITTENS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



I'm in your grocer's freezer with a peg leg and I am not pleased.

It is true that I am not a doctor.

As a child, I remember watching Saturday morning cartoons and wondering if other children were actually laughing at some of the asinine and patronizing jokes that were continuously recycled and overused. As an adult, I have this same feeling when watching or listening to most forms of mass-produced media that are considered "comedy." Most modern day humor consists of the same five sex and/or bodily function jokes presented in slightly varying formats to the point that it almost leaves me feeling nauseous. It seems that intelligent humor has fallen by the wayside these days, and that's a tragedy greater than most you'll read about in your newspaper on any given Sunday, in my opinion.

Laughing has become a reflex for most of us, a learned behavior. We laugh when other people laugh, and they laugh because they think they're supposed to. We laugh because a joke has been made, and rarely because it contains more than the faintest trace of actual wit. We laugh on cue, a working Pavlovian marvel. As a nation, a majority of us have become little more than a recorded laugh track. And one thing that most people don't realize is that those laugh tracks you hear in sitcoms nowadays, most of those were recorded back in the '50s. Most of the people you hear laughing along to your favorite sitcoms are dead.

I think that it's time we all took a stand for intelligent humor. As an official advocate of intelligent humor, you'll need to send me 23 US dollars and you'll receive this informative pamphlet on intelligent humor, which contains many sample jokes which you may use at group engagements as long as you don't mind getting lots of blank, idiotic stares. Also, you get 50 intelligent humor bonus points if you set your hair on fire and run through an office building. You'll need to send me a Polaroid to get full credit.

I ain't not buggin' forsooth

It have been a long time since I writed an entry and also there are bats in the belfry!

What is up all of you crazy mother-oxen?!?! I am hanging out with the new and improved Ronald McDonald, he of the flaming red hair and nonspecific weirdness, and we are totally headbanging to some classic Megadeth, namely Symphony of Destruction. This song contains some totally fantastical and amazing lyrics, including such awesomeness as robots and people's heads a-rolling. I am not even neglecting to mention the hot and steamy Pied Piper action.

Plus:
I am still not a hippie.

However:
I am rocking the hippie hairstylings. Yes, there is a small bush on top of my head. I will show you with pictures in the near future and also I will landscape you to utopia within ten minutes.

Something else that is shocking?
This entry was written not by me but rather by a smallish clone of myself who is programmed to type a modest amount of complete refuse and then do a robot strip tease for all the neighborhood ladies. I have dubbed him Smallish-Me.

Oh yeah, Smallish-Me. That is hot. Oh my. The neighborhood ladies are quite enjoying this debauchery. Yeah, work it. Oh, you are such a bitch. Fabulous.