I've got it so fascinating in here that the carpet cleaners came back the whole goddamned week! Pull it over. You got to pull it over - the garbage bag. Pull it over, start a little bluff, and then a rumor sets in. They say if you don't wake up ready for a chart ... you're nobody. It was the fourth day of transmission. I thought I was ready. Kids don't touch these places. She pulled the alarm! Call the robber barons. I've been stabbed in the study. I saw a light out of the corner of my eye; bit my tongue. It got me. It got me! Do you have a pan? Yeah but I can't bring it on the plane. You know it's not like me. They wouldn't let me on. You'll have to find another containment beam.

They were soon ankle-foot deep in all the world's children. Maybe get off, change the channel, put your t-shirt back on first. Well I tried but I was leaning forward at an angle. I almost slipped off the balcony. Drooled on myself. Drooled on my fingers. Hallucinating, drinking invisible cans of soda. She was there, watching me, laughing at me. That's because of the rules. Here's the visions these arcades do: jealousy. Jealousy, perhaps.

Some of them were held captive for twenty years. Twenty years they did this to my friends. Think about it.

We brought them some sandwiches. I could do that without too much trouble, just had to prick each knuckle, just a small sacrifice. I could handle it. It wasn't enough. They didn't need food, they needed explanations. I couldn't give them any. Their kids were all gone.

They got them. I don't know how. They deserved the best, Romeo, and we failed them. Same look on their faces. Frozen in stone. Nothing could break the gaze. We had to leave them to die. We didn't have a choice.

I'm enclosing the last known photograph. Maybe it'll shed some light on the situation.

I still jump in my sleep. Wake up every few minutes. I'm not sure what's happening to me.

Take care of yourself.

And so once upon a time, the bird creatures of Ransom could not communicate with the volcano god either, as he didn't know their language, and they couldn't read any of the ones he tried to use. Ransom wasn't called Ransom back then. In fact, they didn't have a name for their planet, and they were quite distraught about it. "What will other civilizations think, if we can't even name our own planet?"

"Maybe that we had better things to do, like, science?"

"Yeah Carl, I'm sure they'll think that."

"Shut up! My ideas are fine!"

Many people - er, birds - had ideas for how to name their planet. "Birdia" was the best they could come up with. The other ideas were things like "Seed" and "Awesomeplanet". Until a routine observation mission above the volcano planet went awry. Five birds were lost in an explosion. One survived, and fell to the surface.

Now, the thing you should know about the volcano planet is, it was dead and lifeless. It wasn't really that hot, in fact it was quite moderate in temperature. It still had an atmosphere, though it was mostly nitrogen and carbon dioxide. The ground was dusty and solid rock. The one active volcano remained, where the lava creature lived at its base. It was a shield volcano, and didn't really erupt lava - it just sort of ... oozed it once in a while.

The lava creature had been looking up towards the ship when it exploded. He knew by now they couldn't understand him, but he still wished he could communicate. That was when one of the ship's fuel lines decided it had grown tired of life, and exploded. Then the rest of the ship thought that was a mighty fine idea, and also exploded. And Henry, the sole survivor, went hurdling towards the ground.

His name wasn't really Henry, it was something like CHIRCHIRRUP, but that's hard to type. Anyway, as Henry was hurdling towards the ground like a nursing home resident on acid on the side of a cliff, the lava creature saw him and went into action. Suddenly, he moved across the surface at such a high rate of speed that mission control lost sight of him.

"Oh my god."

"What's he doing? Where'd he go?"

"That poor bastard. I can't watch this."

And sure enough, when Henry was ten feet from the surface, the lava creature was below, waiting to catch him.

Now, if you've never taken a bath in lava, let me set the picture for you - it's hot. Usually a couple thousand degrees. Not something you want to step in, or touch, or be next to. Let alone fall into at terminal velocity. Which, since the volcano planet's gravity was twice that of Earth, was quite a lot.

There was nary a sound. Henry disappeared into the lava creature. He looked up, kind of swirled around a bit, and went back to the base of his volcano. Much slower than he'd left.

"It ate him. That motherfucker ate him!"

"Calm down. Maybe he was ... trying to help."

"Trying to help?! He's made of fucking lava! How is that supposed to help?"

"I don't know! That poor bastard.. what are we going to tell the people about this?"

After a few more minutes of arguing, the creature had returned. A probe at the base of the volcano, sent years earlier in an attempt at communication was turned on.

"Hey! Hey you, what's the big idea!"

The volcano god seemed startled, as much as a pile of lava can seem startled. Then, he slowly turned to face the probe and wrote something on a sign, in the native language of the bird people.


I HAVE YOUR MAN

"What? He what? Don't ... don't tell me he's alive in there! How did he learn our language?"

"Oh god he's holding Henry for .. for ransom? Boiling alive in lava!? I'll kill that son of a bitch!"

"Calm down Carl, take your goddamned pills!"

"I will not calm down! What the fuck kind of ransom do you pay to lava?"

Then Carl grabbed the mic and shouted at the creature. "Give him back you son of a bitch!"


I CAN'T

"Fine, what do you want for him?"

WANT? NOTHING MAN

"Oh, playing hardball are we?"

WHAT'S HARDBALL

"It's .. shut up! Give him back or I'll come down there and make you wish you had!"

I SAID I CAN'T, CAN'T LEAVE PLANET

Just then, the lava creature ... spit Henry up. He was covered in lava goop, but seemed no worse for the wear. He brushed it off, and it seemed to rejoin the lava creature on its own. Henry looked around, saw the probe, and waved. "Hey guys! I'm ok!"

"See Carl? I wish you'd relax. Jesus, lava holding somebody for ransom, I swear ... let's get a ship out there to pick Henry up.

Hey uh .. vol.... l... hey you, what's your name?"

The lava creature stewed for a bit, and slowly wrote

DUDE, CAN'T REMEMBER

Then Henry piped in. "Hey, thanks for catching me over there!"

NO PROB.

"Okay uh ... volcano god, I guess, can we call you volcano god ... "

YEAH BUT I'M NO GOD

"Okay well .. is there anything we can do for you? We have a ship coming to pick Henry up."

The creature thought for a minute, and then responded:

YOU GUYS GOT ANY GOOD BOOKS

I put a sock on my wang and went into town. "Good morning, Principal Roberts!" I shouted. My sock was glowing orange. It was a hot one out today. "Good morning Steven!" He shouted back. My name was Lazarus but whatever. I had a feeling Principal Roberts was tone deaf and had arthritis. Wait, arthritis? I mean that thing where you can't remember stuff good. You know, the thing. Anyway, his secretary was a hot little number named Margaret. She was 13 years old and had a mole shaped like Kentucky on her butt. That reminds me of another amusing anecdote. It was exactly eight years ago today that my wife left me for another brother from another mother. She was cheating on me with my dentist too. That explains the rubies in her teeth.

All I really have to say about my dentist is that he wasn't really a bad man, he was just a penis. With a three inch penis. I saw it once when I was hiding in his bushes watching him spank my wife. He was using a clawhammer toothbrush shaped like Mike Dirnt. Why Mike Dirnt? Because it was a Thursday. Friday nights they went out to eat with me at Fat Joe's Texas Barbecue and Toothpaste Emporium. That reminds me, one time I was eating mint flavored toothpaste in the bushes while my dentist was masquerading as Simon Cowell and raping my wife with a bucket of orange yarn when suddenly there was a knock on the door. It was me. I had idle hands syndrome, and I couldn't stop myself.

When he answered the door, I just knocked him out cold. I would have knocked him out hot but it was January. Anyway, there was a snake under the stairs that bit me on the hell and I think I caught transvestitism. If that's a thing. I have the urge to drink Mr Clean and put my dong in a trapeze artist so that's probably a thing. That reminds me, I was watching Seinfeld the other night when I jacked off. Then I drank a bucket of Mr Clean and passed out for two or three eternities. That reminds me, I really should get back to work before I get fired for impersonating a mailman.

That reminds me, I have to mail my bills in the morning. Sometimes I have to mail letters, but right now I have bills to mail. One time I was sitting outside the bushes on a Tuesday afternoon watching my dentist rape my wife with a fourteen foot long baguette when there was a knock on the door. It was coming from inside the house. The Schwann guy had gotten stuck inside and slipped on a banana peel. He fell face first into a bag of chicken strips, and almost suffocated. Luckily, he was an expert at eating plastic bags so he was able to knaw his legs off, enough to use the stumps to knock on the door.

That reminds me of another time I was sitting in the bushes outside my grandma's neighbor's cat's owner's house masturbating while she was watching Barney and Friends, when her father came outside and beat me with a submarine sandwich. If only it had been toasted, my life could have been a whole lot different. If only it had been toasted. Anyway there's no use crying over spilled hemoglobin so I'll stop talking about it. That reminds me, one time I went to donate blood and they refused to let me in because I was eating a submarine sandwich. "But it'll build up my red blood cells," I said. They didn't like that answer though, because I was eating an AIDS sandwich, and I was also having sex with a diseased leprechaun at the time. That reminds me, I have to stop by Boston Market on my way home today to pick up a turkey, some trimmings, my old weed eater, and my son from soccer camp. He's 14 years old, and he's got a pretty sexy ass. But I digress. That reminds me of the time I digressed in the middle of the baseball field parking lot when I was six and a half years old. My nana rubbed my nose in it, which is why my nose smells like urine and also why I don't have a nose.

That reminds me, I was driving my son to soccer camp when the officer pulled me over, so you see judge I had a lot on my mind and I don't think I deserve this speeding ticket. Now if you'd just .. hey where are you taking me? Nacho emergency? I hope it's a nacho emergency.

--follow @dadadaily

Witnesses to Sporktonian orgasms have been known to claw their own eyes out. For lack of better terms, there is ooze oozing out at a rapid pace, and since Sporktonian seminal fluids are acidic, it can be quite dangerous to be caught in the rapid fire tentacle thrusts that occur. Such a thing happened to one poor group of visiting Frapshavers, which is how heavily petting ones self earned the reputation as a defense mechanism against them. But that's getting slightly ahead of myself.

The planet next to the home of the Frapshavers was deserted, except for a lava creature inside an old, enormous volcano. He was countless millennia old, and had seen it all. From the evolution of ice bugs into the pre-Frapshaver cave dwelling societies, to the horrific juggling contest of the year 6742 S. Since the Frapshaver home planet was solid ice, and the lava planet was well, lava, the two could never really establish contact in person. However, early Frapshavers noticed the creature and treated him as somewhat of a god. The lava creature would occasionally exit the volcano, wandering around the base and attempting to communicate by holding up crude signs in the direction of the Frapshaver home world. But they were not technologically advanced enough to translate his messages.

Eventually, technology enabled Frapshaver scientists to land an enormous camera and screen onto the lava planet to communicate with what they still thought at the time was some sort of hot god, some ancient creature who held some of the secrets of the universe. Could tell them the meaning of life, and how their world came into existence. They slowly cross referenced and compiled possible translations for his messages throughout time.

"Gentlemen, we're about to decode this message He just showed us. Finally, a chance to communicate with the ancient one." The computers chunked and swirled for several more minutes. Finally, it was all complete. The frozen terminals displayed the lava creature's message to the scientists.

DUDE

WELCOME TO THE PARTY

The scientists scratched their heads and stared. They had assumed some ancient wisdom was going to appear. Not something barely coherent. So, they decided to send a return message, translated to what they approximately thought said "Please, depart upon us some ancient wisdom."

The lava creature read their message, and seemed deep in thought for several minutes. Finally, he raised one of his obsidian arms and wrote a new message for the planet next door.

NEVER DATE AN EX'S SISTER. TROUBLE

He tapped the word "TROUBLE" three or four times for emphasis.

That was the day the Frapshavers became athiests.

Discouraged, but not defeated, the scientists continued to ask the creature questions. While he tried to be helpful, it was never quite as informative as they hoped. They asked him, how did life on their planet come into being? He again thought for several minutes, and carefully wrote a message in return.

MOVING ICE. SHIT WAS CRAZY

"Moving ice?! Of course it was moving ice, we're fucking ice creatures!"
"Calm down Carl. Seriously."
"You calm down, you son of a bitch. We've spent two thousand years trying to communicate with this retard!"
"Don't use the r word!"
"I'll call whatever retards I want to call retards retards, retard!"
"Now you're just trying to piss me off."

Even more discouraged, they asked simpler questions. Where did he come from?

VOLCANO ->

How long had he been there?

FOREVER, MAN

Is there a god?

HOPE SO, BUT WHO KNOWS DUDE

Finally, exasperated, the scientists asked one more question. "What is the meaning of life? " The creature seemed flummoxed at this question. He paced (sort of, he was made of lava after all) and seemed lost in thought for quite some time. Finally, after two or three hours - that's six hours of Earth time - he slowly, carefully wrote down a message, left it in view of the camera, and climbed back towards the mouth of the volcano.

The scientists shut off the equipment. It was left in disuse for quite some time. But eventually, someone decided to turn it back on and contact the creature again. That would lead to his downfall, death, and then the destruction of the Frapshaver home world. But I'm again getting ahead of myself. The message of the lava creature was profound, or stupid. But by any measure, it was important. The answer to the scientists' last question, broadcast worldwide to every Frapshaver watching at home, the answer to the question "What is the meaning of life?", was this:



WHO CARES?



--follow @dadadaily

Unfortunately for Robflert, this was going to be his last day on the job. But he didn't know it yet. Nor did he know that he would get fired and die on the same day. But that's neither here nor there. I'm getting ahead of yourself.

The children were outside at recess. Some were playing hopscotch. Some were chasing each other with sticks. Still others were sitting under a tree chewing on bugs. Some were playing sideways hopscotch. Suddenly, the old siren went off. Broooock! Poooorrrrrooooop! Every Sporktonian knew what the siren meant: the Frapshavers were attacking.

The Frapshavers were ice people from four planets away. They were covered in razor sharp icicles and had a long standing feud with the Sporktonians. No one could remember what had happened to start the feud. Some believed one planet tried to invade the other. Some thought it was all a misunderstanding. Some thought it was an argument about what boy band is better. Still others didn't care. "Feh!" They would shout. "Blurb those Frappers!" Frappers was a racial epithet for Frapshavers. "We don't need 'em! We should nuke 'em from orbit!"

Now, the problem with all of this is that the Frapshavers had gone extinct when the climate of their planet changed drastically. All that was left were some ruins, deserts, and a few plants that adapted. Maybe some weird bugs. Whatever.

So, it would be quite a feat for an extinct race to be invading a planet. The early warning system must have malfunctioned. It had not been used in several decades. Though every school, factory and office had weekly Frapshaver drills, so everyone knew what to do. The kids hobbled inside and started petting each other. They were all huddled together in the closet. The teacher sobbed uncontrollably. Some kids started to ooze themselves. It was total chaos. The principal flapped his gunyyups and ran screaming into the room. "EVERYONE START PETTING. EVERYONE START PETTING NOW!" The world was surely coming to an end. Except that was impossible, because the invaders were dead.

Smash cut to the president's office. He was taking a nap.

Smash cut to the governor of the state of Flaboflavia. The governor was heavily petting himself and running in circles. "We must fend off the invaders! We must fend off the invaders!"

Some dumb tentacle had accidentally tripped the alarm while he was taking a nap at his post. His job was to sound the alarm if he saw any Frapshavers on the triple radar system. Of course they were extinct, so his job was fairly boring. Some days he took naps. Sometimes he cooked entire meals in the break room. Sometimes he just ordered out for food. Sometimes he watched pornography to keep himself glandulating for his six wives back at his apartment. Today, Robflert was taking a nap.

When the siren sounded, everyone descended on Robflert's office. "ROBFLERT!!", his supervisor said, while petting his secretary's genitals. "WHERE ARE THE FRAPSHAVERS!?"

"F... frapwhosers? Oh, OH NO! I tripped the alarm by accident!"

"ROBFLERT! A false alarm of this magnitude is a capital offense, with a capital Barkkof! You're fired!"

"Please, please no! Please don't fire me! I need this job to pay for supplies!"

"I don't want to hear it! Talk to Galllivvvorv before you leave to get your mandatory bullet in the head."

Not being one to disobey orders, Robflert drudged slowly to his death at the hands of his coworker. Galllivvvorv was a muscle brained dumbass, always itching to administer capital punishment to someone breaking a rule, like murdering their children, or farting in public.

"Hyeah! Hyo! Hyeah! Hyo!" Gallivvvorv was lifting weights while his secretary was petting his genitals. "Don't you stop until we get to the bottom of this invasion either! GotDAMN I hope this was a false alarm so I get to bring some evildoer to justice today!"

And so he did. Right in the goddamned back of the head. Sick bastard. The moral of the story is, jocks are fucking assholes. Rot in hell you jerks. I couldn't climb a damned rope, so what. You probably have a micropenis and fucked your sister in the third grade just to see what it felt like. It felt good, didn't it. Felt like you were already married. Squirt out some little brain damaged four eyed babies. They can call you "papa". Or at least a drooling approximation. Well, guess what. Tentacles commit incest all the time. It's fine for them though because they reproduce asexually. Isn't that fucked up?

--follow @dadadaily

There was a green tentacled alien sitting on a metal folding chair up on stage. Goo was oozing from unseeable spots on his skin. "Well, nothing much has gone right in my life, " he bemoaned. "When I was seven, I was beaten angrily with sunspots until I could no longer ooze properly. " The crowd gasped in horror. He continued, unaffected. "The doctors didn't know how long it would be until I could ooze again. Some thought it would never be possible. But here I am today, oozing all the time. It just goes to show you that the power of positive thinking and nightly prayers will do you all the good in the world." The crowd clapped. Some jeered. "Yeah!" They were excited.

It's not every day you hear an oozing tentacle tell you about the power of prayer, but today wasn't a typical day. It was Sunday the blurbteenth on the Isle of Howard Oglesby, fifteen planets from Jamacia in the Sporknein solar system. Sporknein is an approximation, as there's no English equivalent of the word Sporknein. In the native tongue, it means "No Sporks". It sounds a bit like a cab driver being run over in a quiet Parisian alleyway. But I digress. The people of Sporktonia loved the power of prayer, and they loved listening to tentacles talk about it even more. It was a fairly disconcerting sight to watch a tentacle preach. It was a bit more disturbing than watching a Catholic priest preach. But not as disturbing as Dancing with the Stars. That show is messed up.

On the planet of Sporktonia, they have Catholics. Sometimes they molest little baby tentacles. With their own tentacles. It's very gross. Echoes of their grunting fill the churches nightly. Newspapers sound the alarms. But no one ever does anything about it. The most popular profession on Sporktonia is greeting card designer. The most popular poem is a poem by Zorbgank 7 titled "The Loneliness of Being". The hit song for the past three years has been "I got a build-up of Ooze and I need to tell somebody". It goes something like this:

I got a build up of ooze
and I need to tell somebody
It smells very bad
but the girls delight with rage

Of course in the native language, it all rhymes very neatly. To English ears, it sounds something like a half dog half cat being anally violated repeatedly with a lawnmower. Sometimes I can still hear the screams. Sometimes I can smell them. They smell funky. Really funky. The second verse goes like this:

I got more ooze in my guts
and a violin back at home
I got thirteen wives and children
They have auburn tentacles

The latest fad on Sporktonia is to hold glerbins with another tentacle and jump off a building. If you both live, you were meant to be together. If not, your relatives fight each other with cooking knives to decide who has to pay the government for your carcasses. That night, the males of each family goad one another into raping a water faucet. Water faucets on Sporktonia are biological based robots, so it's all very racuous and alarming to watch. Sometimes the local tv stations broadcast these knife fights around the globe. One time Sporktonia sent an unmanned probe into space with a titanium disc on it detailing their culture. On it was a male tentacle waving, a murdered female, three knives, and a curdferplabbbt with a two foot penis. A curdferplabbbt is sort of like a Sporktonian cow, only they taste a bit like boiled hot dogs.

Anyway, their top scientists all fought over the message. Some of them wanted to engrave more knife fights into the message disc, but there wasn't much room left after the president put his birthday wish list on it.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm sort of glad that we haven't had contact with alien life yet. I don't want to be raped by a tentacle in a church, get thrown off a building and stabbed for money, or watch a robot get violated in the name of tradition. I do, however, enjoy The Game of Life. One time, I became a doctor. Yeah, that was the shit.

-- follow @dadadaily

reuse others

hey my human, hiding in the wilderness
there goes the dinner bell
the killer, the cereal
dropped black in the pond
don't bite it, whistle a tune
whose elephant is this
who won't stop remembering

swirling
long distance
prophylaxis

footsteps towards a pillow
the same soil as us
fought back vibrating nothings
ran away all the same
following in my footsteps
surrounded by fifteen thousand

the most silent
exit ramp, snowflake tears
pained tales, painted lines
neuron thistles

while you make pretty speeches
you're tearing me to shreds

I was in a nature of visions and twisted rulers, the kings of mercy had murdered themselves. And the darkness was coming towards me. The corpse of my twin lay bare in front of me, as I struggled to impale him further with my spear. It was platinum coated, harmful to the naked eye, filled with apple cider. It shined brightly in the evening sun, shined like the universe was smiling upon my murderous revenge. Smiling with hatred, mutual hatred for a common enemy. I had to get home to my girlfriend. She was expecting, and she was expecting me. It wasn’t mine, but it was ok. It was my twin’s. I supposed I would raise him now. I pulled the spear out and uttered the magic words. He sprang to life, and ran away. Next day the papers were filled with my story; extra extra, twin kills his brother, brings him back to life. I went to his house and shot him, then buried his body under the bridge we used to play at when we were seven. The bridge over the river consciousness. A word floated toward me. “RUINATION”. I grabbed the n and held on as if my life depended on it. He never liked that bridge. He never liked the river. Said it was too cold, and despondent. He never liked me either. “I don’t like you.” That was what he always said to me. I would tell him a joke, and he would tell me how much he hated me. I was struggling, struggling, I was always struggling. The “ation” popped off and knocked me over. “RUIN” floated down the river, bobbing and weaving, inside and out, inside and out of the water. I watched until I couldn’t watch anymore. The corpse of my old self came to life, and it shoved me in the river. I went tumbling, tumbling tumbling over a waterfall, hit my head on some rocks. It knocked me out. The next morning I woke up, bleeding, dead on the asphalt, dead in my own skin. I tried to run home, I tried, I swear I tried to run home to you. But my legs wouldn’t work. I was laying bleeding dead on the asphalt trying to ruin to you, I mean run to you, and I couldn’t try anymore. I just couldn’t. I tried for days and days, but I just couldn’t try anymore. You’ll have to forgive me, I’m only human. I just can’t try anymore.

June 31st. An empty parking lot.
                Concrete. Traffic noise. A plant barrier.
                This would be a good place to die.
                If I will it, I choose.

                This is as good
                a place as any.

let go, let go. jump in, for it's so amazing here -
in the breakdown.

May 31st. I was working cahier cashier again.
                Man came in. Shot himself. I was
                the last person to talk to him.
                "Much left in your shift?"
                "Three hours, I guess."
                "Ah, alright."
                Then he pulls the trigger.
                Five hours later, I went to sleep.

Ok so I missed days already. It can't be helped. Helped it cannot be .. by me. Sometimes certain things have to fall away because of other things. And this week, I had other things.



My throat has been vaguely swollen for a few days, and it sucks. It constantly feels like I can't breathe, or I'm going to suffocate, or something. Makes it harder to swallow. And I already have problems with that. Plus, life sucks. And my leg itches. So there's that.

Yourtub video of the moment:

How many minerals can you name that appear on Mohs scale of hardness?

Corundum is a crystalline form of aluminium oxide (Al2O3) and is one of the rock-forming minerals. It is naturally clear, but can have different colors when impurities are present. Transparent specimens are used as gems, called ruby if red, while all other colors are called sapphire. In India a pinkish-orange sapphire is called padparadscha and a pink light-red sapphire is called patmaraga.

One reason I'm doing this is to look at my blockquote css. Dang that looks weird! Probably!

I wonder what the Mohs hardness of a Republican's heart is

oink oink POLITICS

Come back soon I got to be hilarious

Edit: I lost it

Edit 2: Smilers

here l sit
all broken hearted
had diarrhea
and that's the story

Defective fiction is a branch of fiction that centers upon the investigation of junk, usually murder, by a defective, either professional or amateur. Defective fiction is the most popular form of both bad fiction and hardboiled terrible fiction.

I'd like to take a few minutes out tonight to talk to you about the most important thing in your life: that fabric of our lives, cotton. You can put it in your ears on a windy day, or in your vagina on a bloody one. You can make a shirt out of it, and enslave an entire race of people to harvest it to make shirts. And probably pipes and junk. What do I know. How do they harvest nutmeg. How does that shit get harvested. Somebody tell me that. I ate a bottle of nutmeg once. I had no idea the air could taste like steak salt. I smelled of onions for three days, and a priest ran away from me screaming. I also had carrots growing out of my eardrums but that was an unrelated problem due to the unforseen clotting of the east trade winds out of San Diego. I apologized for it before, but I'm not sure that I should have done that. It wasn't really my fault, I was just in a bad situation at the wrong place in the wrong time slot. So the executives in charge of programming my life held me back as a midseason replacement and some people campaigned on the internet for me and I was brought back just in the nick of time but sadly they put me up against a program about deadly poisionous metronomes, so I didn't get good ratings, I was cancelled, and they shoved a bullet in my brain back behind the poolshed with a device designed for said purpose. It hurt a lot but I got a lot of residuals so in the end it was ok I guess. Sometimes I like to dance around in my underwear in a bathtub in the middle of the forest where I tied that one girl that was misbehaving to a tree by her ankles to her wrists and she yelled a lot then we laughed about it. I'm pretty sure she starved to death, either that or she's going to grad school in Milwaukee to become a professional vegetarian. I don't remember. So anyway, I had carrots in my ears because I had planted them there earlier this Septober. You should be careful where you plant things containing beta kerotene. For example, I once planted my dong in this girl that wasn't fond of me and it was full of beta kerotene so they arrested me for assault with a deadly penis. Holy fuck I forgot to take my laundry out of the dryer three weeks ago and I just remembered. I hope it's still there. Yep it is. I guess, if it hasn't been removed yet. I should go check but I'm 200 miles from home and I'm typing this with a hair dryer and a keyboard that only responds to hair dryer stimuli. It's really hard to type accurately, in fact this paragraph alone has taken me two life cycles of a pendulum to manufacture inside my esophogus. Damn, I can really yarn a good spin when I get going, can't I. A word is worth a thousand pictures, so buy a pen knife and jam it in your carrot hole, then send me a four hundred thousand five word essay regarding the ancestral locations of the great shepherd hounds that lives in your semens. I make a living making livings, so don't bogart the paper towels, and hand me a tuning fork now and again. I need a new spatula seriously. Spatula Seriously©, from the makers of Face It Face Masks. Get yours today. Available at all Walbogs. Save a dolphin, eat some tuna.

Since the dawn of time, time has moved forwards. Then again, popsicles. Once upon a starkiss, I ate a tub of margarine. It's ok, it was fat free. And it tasted like popsicles. Earwax flavored popsicles. And popsicles .. are still marching on. This treat will soon be at an end, and now it's even sooner. And now it's even sooner. And now it's even sooner.

Did you ever buy a new hat? Boy I did once. That was awesome. Lost it though. That part wasn't awesome. I took a bunch of pictures of my underwear drawer trying to find it, but he never resurfaced. I wonder if he's buried in the sand somewhere in the middle of a rainforest. I would hate to be buried semi alive in the middle of a dense urban undergrowth that is bursting with pus and looks like Kenney Chesney. I got this wheel implant in my foot and it's kind of hurty. But I can go really really fast on sidewalks, but sometimes I crash into bodegas. It's ok the soda is only 45 cents a can there they made an exception. For once in my life, they made an exception. BUG PISS.