Paranormal Investigator and A Few of My Beliefs

I attended a lecture on a particular paranormal subject, at a library, almost a month ago.  That tells you about how much time, I've had, lately, to actually blog about something that interests me.  Most of the time, I have to deal with things in my life I'd rather not have to deal with- but that's reality for ya.  I pepper my reality with brief times of relief on Fartbook... er... Facebook, mostly, because commenting or posting on Facebook takes less time than doing a blog post.  To each his or her own.  :)

The lecture I went to was about ghost hunting and the woman giving the lecture belonged to an organization that has been around for a number of years and they have done a lot of investigations.  She seemed to know what she was talking about.  A large group of ordinary people had showed for the lecture and Q & A.

The lecture got me thinking about a lot of things that I experienced in my past.

I believe in ghosts and things that fall under the paranormal heading for a number of reasons.  I've talked about those reasons on this blog in the past but to those who are relatively new to this blog that I've been doing since 2007, my reasons, in no particular order are:

1- I've lived in a house that was haunted.  The entire family, our friends and even people we didn't know that well, saw and heard many unexplained incidents such as: chairs moving by themselves, laughter coming from our attic when no one was up there, the lights and TV going off and on, whispers of your name next to your ear while attempting to sleep, blood running down the walls, something pulling sheets off of a bed while you are attempting to sleep, black, smoke-like formations rushing past doorways, dolls' heads moving completely around by themselves, running footsteps being heard, coming up from the basement stairs up to the door leading to the hallway (when no one was there) and so on.

Some of this shit, that went on, I think I've purposefully forgotten, to avoid needless trauma.

If you've read this far without thinking me insane, wanting to mock me and everyone else who had to go through the shit we went through or wanting to debate me or point out how one or more things can easily be scientifically explained- then congratulations are in order for you.  Kudos!  It means you likely have an open mind.  Otherwise, if you're here to debate me or do any of the other things I mentioned above, feel free to move on to the next blog about how someone's kid and their latest "hysterical" antic that everyone is dying to know about.  Or something equally mundane.  I'm not interested and will not respond, as you would probably like, to anything contrary that you have to say.  I've heard it before and wasn't impressed.  We, meaning the dozens of us who went through the hell of living there or visiting there, know what we went through and tried "scientifically" explaining away everything that happened.  Didn't work.  End of story.

I might add... and I will...

The only thing more irritating and frustrating to me than an overzealous disbeliever in anything they can't see or explain is an overzealous Christian trying to push their faith down your throat.  Giving someone the benefit of a doubt is not the same as being gullible.  Either person who displays this type of behavior is showing their arrogance and close mindedness.  It's also a sign of someone who NEEDS to feed their ego to tear down one's ideas or beliefs with whatever well written malarkey that they can come up with.  Just because it is well written or that person has the last word- it does not make them right.   

2- My wife has spoken to the spirit of her deceased grandfather one night, while I was in bed and he gave her details about me that he couldn't have known, because he died three decades before I was even born.  I've had several relatives see and talk to dead relatives, whether they were on their deathbeds in homes or hospitals or when they were just standing around, not doing anything in particular.  Feelings of peace would usually accompany them while these incidents would happen.

3- I've also had some flashes or images come into my mind, while awake, of things that have happened.  Most of those things (images) were of trivial matters.  When these images would come into my mind, I would feel like I should remember them.  I don't know why that feeling would come over me but it did.  A month or two later and the image of the incident in my mind actually became a reality.

The one "picture" that I got in my head was of something that I didn't even know about or what it was and had never seen a picture of it before- until I was older, in school.  It came to me when I was around four years old.  It was a picture of a nuclear bomb going off.  Bright mushroom cloud, everything being caught on fire, vaporized and so on.  The whole bit.  It was happening, I figured out later in life, in the same direction where a major city, about thirty miles away from where I live now, is located.  I'm 48 years old and it is an image in my mind as horrifying and clear as it was when I was four years old.

4- I used to read whole decks of cards.  Didn't matter which deck or where it came.  They weren't in any order. I didn't cheat by marking any sides or had cards that were bent.  I'd simply look at each face down card, say what it was, suit and number, turn it over and it would be what it said I knew it was going to be.  Then I'd re-shuffle the cards again, predict the cards, again, correctly and then, one day, I thought to myself, This is too weird and I stopped doing it, altogether.

5- There is another thing I've been involved in, paranormally speaking, but I'm not mentioning it because it would take too long to explain and I'm afraid I'd get a lot of backlash in comments that I'd rather not read because, well, I've heard it all before and sadly, most people are predictable.  :)  I'm not saying everyone is, but, if you've been around as long as I have, you already know the truth.  If you'd really and genuinely like to know what #5 is about, I'll tell you.

These days, I don't have any predictive imagery in my mind.  Nor do I attempt to predict cards or attempt transcendental meditation.  That last thing I just mentioned resulted in something that freaked me out a bit, not in a bad way, but I'm not going to go into it, either.

The paranormal investigator (one of many ghost hunters, so to speak,) brought all of her equipment, including dowsing rods, an EVP recorder, an EMF meter and a laptop computer showing orbs (spirits) she and others had videotaped during their investigations.  Later, she shared information about a tour through a place where people, in a nearby city, had reported experiencing spirits one way or another.  She didn't talk about the future tour much, in case you're wondering if she was there to make money off the local town folk.  She was there to demonstrate how the instruments worked, how her own personal experience as a child got her interested in the paranormal and answering any questions that people had about ghosts.

Many orbs ( or spirits)

She talked quite a bit about how her personal experience with spirits and how it told about and shown on TV, through reenactments.  The paranormal investigator was interviewed about the full apparition she saw of a little girl named Nora, sitting on the floor in a room, upstairs at her childhood home.

The woman also was there to investigate someone who had died at the library she was speaking at.  According to the dowsing rods and the EMF meter, something was definitely there and it was communicating what had happened when she died.  For one thing, she used to work in the same old building a long time ago and she was pregnant at the time.  Ever since my sister and her coworkers had been working at the library, they had heard talking, from out of nowhere and had seen things move (on their own?) while being employed at the library.  It wasn't a malicious spirit, obviously.  It just wanted to be acknowledged.

On her laptop computer, the investigator showed orbs, like I said and turned up the volume of strange, yet clear, disembodied voices.

There was a teenage girl, who worked at the library, who had an experience on a ghost hunting tour, a few months back, who was not associated with the investigator.  She told us about how she thought a spirit from the place she toured had come back home with her.  She said she could feel "him" touch her arms, at times, and how it felt cold or like being brushed by spider webs.  This spirit, she said, had also displayed non-malicious behavior toward her but the investigator advised her that she should explain to the spirit that he was dead and should move on to the other side.  Her family, who had also gone on the same tour, also heard voices "from out of nowhere" and felt things.

The other side, what happens after death, call it Heaven or what you will, is also something I happen to believe in for a great many number of personal reasons, NOT religious reasons.

The paranormal investigator seemed pretty genuine to me.  I had an open mind about it because of things I and others close to me have witnessed and experienced.  Btw, I'm quite open to any of your own experiences, concerning the paranormal in the comment section, or if you'd like, through email or Fartbook... er.. I mean Facebook.

Supposedly, I'm supposed to get a nice pair of dowsing rods from the link I already provided, as a gift, from my sister, for my birthday, October 3rd.  I'm not saying I completely believe in dowsing rods but they may be of some personal good to me.  I'm not saying anything beyond that.

Take care, everyone! 

Behold My Power of Observation

Hello.  My name is Victor, the owner of the Human, Kelly.  The human slave (I lovingly refer to him)  gives me food, drink and shelter while I carefully observe his race who call themselves Human Beings.  I, on the other hand, have a more apt name for them.  They will always be DumbAsses to me- or any other living being, besides Humans, on this planet.

Hey Humans, while you're not polluting the planet, exploiting it's resources, killing each other and treating those who don't have much of this sad excuse of an outdated medium (you call money) for the exchange of goods with great disdain, as if they have less value than a pile of roach crap, could you do something useful- like helping each other out?  Ah, fuck it... just keep texting each other about the same old mundane crap.

You think the wilderness is full of terrors, viciousness and challenges for survival for us low level animals....  Try living within the Human Race.  They actually try to make it harder on themselves.  Increasingly so with every day and year that passes.  Here's a whip, Fucko!  Go flay yourself like you know you want it- real bad.  Do the whipping of your backs and minds with your head in the "sands of denial" or in the "sands of acknowledging what's wrong but you're going along with it because it's easier that way".  Yeah, that's the way you guys do it.

Then injure or destroy someone else.  Put on another good show.  Call it a war.  Kill people for gods and/or greed!

Your big old brains, that you're so impressed by, have conjured many new and exciting ways to hurt one another with each year.  Someone who is innocent- or not- can get a taste.  And by the way, it isn't any fun unless you're engaging in one or two bloody wars at the same time.  So I've seen from most of you.  And you think I am just lying around, sleeping, licking my crotch and chasing bugs.  Ah-Ha!  Can you not see the power in these glowing yellow eyes?

I've got some very predicatable news for you, Humans.  The rest of us seemingly less worthy animals- which you also treat with your varied obvious degrees of indifference, with the exception of a minority of you, can see you've been acting like imbeciles for so long, that now you flaunt it, flamboyantly, and accept stupidity from one another like it's the greatest sunset that's ever appeared out of God's Asshole.  (Newt, Romney, Santorum, Bachmann)  Those are just a few politician's names.  I haven't mentioned any names from any other categories, like from the wealthy elite,the indifferent majority, the spectacularly cruel... and so on.  Most of you Dumbasses, I find, in the end, are interchangeable.

I was reading what this man, Ralph Nader, said about your typical  Human greed for money among politicians, and when you get down to it, everyone else.  Literally or not, you Humans stick knives in each other's backs and allow pricks to rule over you while they tell the poor and the general public, in general, to go fuck themselves as you allow it to happen.  A good many have protested such behavior of the wealthy elite among you.  I have nothing but respect for them.

When you're done destroying what you can of the planet before you cause almost complete extinction of your own kind, I will cheerfully dine on your thigh as you quiver and blubber and begin to decay.  I will do it as you go through your death rattle- or even during your last words before taking your last breath.

My advice for you, as far as last words go, would go something like this-  "I did try to, at least, do a little something about all the corruption and did do one selfless act for another Human in my lifetime- or maybe not."  But hey,  if you did do something positive, Human, about the Human Condition or help someone or animal out, then BIG KUDOS goes to you.  I'd give you a hug but I'm too busy allowing Kelly to pet my coat of fur and then go into the kitchen for a treat made of ingredients that may be healthier than the slop they serve at these places DumbAsses, er, I mean, Humans, call fast food restaurants.  Maybe it's the equivalent.  Eh.  Who knows?  Where's my catnip?  This ranting is giving me a downer.  I need a buzz.

Speaking of slop, do you know that most Humans are ruled by their egos (slop) than their brains.  Imagine the mistakes that would be made by a race like that.  Yeah.  I mean...  How concerned are they with anything but themselves?  Catnip for thought.  

Like I said, there were/are a few of you who get it.  Here's one of them now.  His name was George Carlin. He wasn't just a extraordinarily funny Human.  He was an observer, who explained in detail, what was wrong with his race.  In the last six or seven years of life, especially, he painstakingly wrote books, put on comedy concerts and gave out words of wisdom that some got and some that didn't.  Pity to those who don't get it.  Pity to those that are close minded.

Here's your typical Human doing something more constructive than destroying his own home planet.  He's making a snot bubble.  Sure, he's no Rembrandt or Da Vinci but he may just be expressing a form of art  that no Humans have ever embraced before.  Humans are not exactly the open minded type when it comes to accepting change or differences in each other.  If you look closely, you can see that this guy has snot bubbles within snot bubbles.  I wish my hairballs looked that good.

I sincerely hope I'm inspiring you with the magic I'm creating out of my left nostril.

Here's another Human that gets it.  Bernie Sanders. Don't ya love it, when every so often, some Human speaks the truth?  Sometimes they have to have something dramatic happen to them during their lives or a sudden epiphany that helps them not be afraid to be open, honest and speak the truth without fear of repercussions from DumbAsses, er, I mean, Humans, of course.

Oh well.  Meanwhile, while you Humans go about your day, ignoring everything around you and perhaps creating chaos or being part of the problem, I'm just going to lay here and wait for the smoke to clear.  But, if I'm about to be wiped out, suddenly or I end up suffering an unpleasant existence because of your Human's Love for Self-Destructive Insanity, I can at least say I didn't have anything at all to do with it.

Here we see Humans sticking their faces up fake Humans' asses instead of up in their own, attempting to put the entire head in.  That way they can see no evil, hear no evil and be completely and blissfully ignorant of the world around them

It's Humans who are always at fault, in the end.  How many Human civilizations have passed, really, on this planet?  I wonder how many civilizations have passed due to their ignorance, cruelty and indifference.  I gotta say one thing for them...   Humans have that brilliant ability and natural ease where they can pass the responsibility of their negative actions on to whoever they deem fit or not accept it at all.  Yeah... Gee... I wonder what the end result of that attitude would be in the end?  Ah, well....

Have a great day, Humans!  Now pass me the catnip before your civilization's time is up!

Mother's Day For Me

Mother's Day means something different to all of us. The factors being your mother and you weren't close, are very close, were very close, she passed away, she's many miles away, she's living with you and so on. There's just too many and I wouldn't be able to name them all, adequately.

For me, it was/it is- a few of these things.

I've never done a Mother's Day post before because it always too painful for me to even start. Believe me, I wanted to, if for anything else, just to air out some feelings. But, as I'd try, I would eventually fail. The pain- being too great.

My Mom died nearly six years ago and I'm now able to come to grips with a lot of things having to do with that fact. We were very close, you see. She was my best friend. Mom was my confidante and the person who knew me the best. If I ever felt down, I turned to her. If I ever had good news, she was the first to know of it.

It took me years before I could do this. This is something I've wanted to do for a long time. I wanted to write about her, what she was like- on this blog.

Yeah, it takes me forever to get through emotional steps of whatever I'm going through. Whether it be grieve or forgiveness or making a friend or loving. I tend to take my good sweet time with all of these and more. I'm very passionate with the sensations that are rolling around in my soul. I think, but I'm not sure, this is why I have a hard time letting go of things. Once it's in there, in deeply embedded. Of course, being more apathetic than passionate may seem better to a few but I've never been that way and wouldn't know how to be like that if I wanted to. Personally, I think some people make better androids than humans.

In any case, I'm just going to stick with how I'm feeling. No soapbox diatribes on human nature today.

It's strange for me, in a way, to have Mom as a topic along with some of these odd stories, essays and pictures I've got on the blog. I hope Mom doesn't mind being a subject on my blog. Yeah, I do happen to believe in an afterlife. Any objectors or arguers of this idea will have to debate me another day. This isn't one of those type of posts where I want to hear debate of any kind so if you feel the need, save it for a another day. But getting back to how she might feel, wherever she is, I hope she doesn't give me a swat with the that ol' flyswatter she would use on me when I was bad kid when we all meet again. Ha ha. That would suck. :)

Just kidding. By the way, I've written about her before and the tough time I had with the guilt over her death and more but this post is something different.

Back to where I was....

Today I want to talk about and remember the good things about mom.

Mom and I would spend long late nights, into the early morning hours, playing Scrabble and talking about "meaning of life" type of stuff when we were both adults. Or just silly stuff. Mom was my personal advisor, a lot of times, when I'd need her most, too. I remember, as a kid, taking long walks with Mom down the gravel lane from where we lived in our four room house, when the family was dirt poor. We would walk down the lane, when I was kid, talking, holding hands and I would be looking up at her, at her eyes, as she answered any question a kid would have at that age. You know the kind. Those were pure, unforgettable times that I wouldn't trade anything for.

Later in life, Mom would watch me become distant as a teenager and later yet, succeed, fail, go on my first date, first prom, get a job, have problems, have good news and all that stuff that goes on in life and do it all-without directly judging me and instead, talk to me on a equal level that I deeply appreciated. I think she did that because she knew what all those things in life were like because she experienced them herself, along with the positive and negative aspects that is embedded within those episodes and so she empathized and showed her love by just speaking honestly and fairly.

I want to cry now as I think back on those particular great times we all had as a family. The trips to The Great Smoky Mountains, to Arizona, to out west and Florida and so on. I'm thinking about the fantastic fun times we had in the pool, throwing kickballs at each other and playing volleyball or the long, heart-to-heart talks we would have, while lounging around in the pool, about how are lives were going and what we were doing. All of our laugh-out-loud good times during our camping adventures. All of those funny moments around the campfire. These memories- I think of now and more.

Mom was incredibly demonstrative, too- Always giving hugs out to Dad and us kids, telling us how much she loved us and reassuring us and just being there when we needed her. She would celebrate our birthdays like they were the most important events in the world. Cakes, gifts, banners and streamers out the wazoo and then some. And Mom would produce big extravagant meals, full of comfort food and she would show off her considerable cooking talents with wonderfully unique meals, as well. She made sure no one left hungry at her house.

We were a very, very close knit family. We could talk about anything. Hardly any subject was off limits. Ask and ye shall receive. lol.

Shit. I was taught about the "birds and the bees" so early, openly and naturally that it would freak most uptight people out. They wouldn't be able to deal with it. But sex was something that was talked about with us like it was a natural act and it is, despite what some folks think. We would laugh at some aspects of sex, too.

I don't want to get into a debate here, but I think some folks are just little too backward and not progressive enough with this topic and more. It makes me laugh a little. Especially, in comparison with what knowledge I was given and how I was brought up. Complete honesty. Ya gotta love it. Either that or stick to being squeamish, sensitive or close-minded or whatever you want to call it.

Passing gas was funny, too. Like I said, hardly anything was off limits.

There I go again... getting off topic. I can't help myself. I have that wheel in my head that won't stop turning. Perhaps a little crazy man is turning the wheel. Who knows?

Mom and I shared the same warped sense of humor, as well. To be perfectly honest, though, my brand of humor was a little more warped.

One time, we pissed off my sister by laughing at the "beeping noises" a mentally handicapped man was making at a picnic table with his family while we were in the state park having our own family picnic not too far from his small brood.

"Beep!" The retarded man would make this noise. Mom and I would laugh. We weren't really laughing at him. Just the odd, abrupt, loud noise he would suddenly make every few minutes during the mostly quite picnic in the park.

"Beep!," he would shout out again.

Mom and I would try to hold back our laughter. We knew it wasn't right but we couldn't help it. The more he beeped and made other strange noises, the funnier it got. It's like the situation where you have a funny idea or picture in your mind at a funeral. The harder you try to control it, the more you want to let out your chuckles and guffaws. And then your body and/or mind finally betrays you and you burst from the seams, making a scene.

Oh well. My motto is: Who gives a rat's ass what people think.

The ironic thing also about this episode is that my mother worked as a nurse on the mental ward at a hospital. She was kind of used to this sort of thing but it would still make her laugh- again, not at the retarded person(s) just at the noises or outlandish actions. At the hospital, she acted, according to her, professionally- which I don't doubt because she was more than exceptional at turning her own personal laugh button off and on at really public places.

Suddenly, the retarded guy, probably about 30 years old or better, raised up his hand during the normally peaceful family picnic and yelled, "HI-YO!"

That's when we lost it, laughs busting from our guts and us, holding our mouths closed as best we could. My sister chastised us, telling us how inappropriate it was, of course. She's warped in her own right. Just not as much as me. Heh heh. And don't ask me why this memory of Mom popped in my mind. I could have thought of much better ones, I suppose. The little crazy man at the wheel in my brain does unpredictable things I feel like I can't be held accountable for.

Anyway, we didn't just laugh at the mentally handicapped shenanigans of some different folks. We shared a sense of humor about most anything you could or couldn't think of at this moment. But I think we shared more than that. I think we shared a way of looking at things in life- for better or worse- that really made of us that much closer.

I have to add that Mom was the glue, along with my Grandpa, that held the family together during inner family squabbles. Despite her depression and diabetes she suffered through, in life, she was incredibly strong and strong-willed. Mom was able to bring people together, no matter how much they didn't want to be around each other. And Mom was able to help mend our differences and hurt feelings with ease. Grandpa had this gift, too. Unfortunately, both of these much loved and much needed people are gone from our lives, passed on and now our family is fragmented in ways you would find hard to understand and I couldn't begin to even explain.

But listen to this!

When Mom passed away, I immediately learned this particular lesson, shortly after. It's a way of looking at things in your life, honestly. And because I learned this, I became instantly honest with myself, everyone else and completely accepted my flaws, my talents, my failures and my accomplishments and really... everything.

Here is the most significant insight I have and likely ever will have:

The most important part of your life isn't money, material things, status, proving who's best or who's not or who's right or who's wrong, the media, politics or religion. The most important part of your life are your loved ones. Everything, in comparison, is trivial.

Sometimes people won't learn or understand what I just said until a very close loved one has passed on. Sometimes they will understand it before it does come down to something that crucial or extreme.

That's it. That's my own personal insight. It's a doozy if you put any thought to it or if you have put any thought into it.

Being honest with yourself and accepting yourself is almost right up there with all of that. And to be painfully honest, as my Mom would sometimes say I could be, at times... I think both of those insights could be said to be intertwined if you think about it as I have.

Below are pictures of my immediate family that I put in a frame shortly after Mom passed away. I chose these pictures because of their meaning and because I like these images of Mom the best so far. I have dozens of family albums I haven't gone through since Mom died but I think I will do that, here, pretty soon.

On the upper left is Mom and Dad, a year before I was born. In the middle top, is Mom (that's Dad's arm around her). I had to cut Dad off in order to get the picture in the frame right. I have another copy with him completely there. :) On the upper right, is Mom and Dad at a state park. Both of my parents loved the great outdoors. A love and respect my sister and I shared with them, too and still do. The rest of the pics, at the bottom, are of me and the rest of the family. My Grandpa, who was a farmer, is in the second last picture- towards the right.

Well, my fellow bloggers and readers, this is my Mother's Day post. I consider this, in itself, a minor accomplishment, considering how long I put it off. Thanks for reading it and I welcome your thoughts and/or stories. Take care of each significant other in your own life and please don't forget what I said earlier, regarding my insight. Be well. Kelly. Out.

One Hundred and Sixty Four Tornadoes and At Least 280 Deaths

I found this to be more important to talk about than any Royal Wedding, any birth certificate of a current president or all the rest of that crap the media blathers on about these days. Let's get real, folks. This is real news involving real lives. And it really puts things into perspective.

The National Weather Service reported 164 tornadoes struck, yesterday, on April 27. Wednesday's tornadic supercell storms, that killed upwards of 280 people in a wind-driven rampage across the Midwestern United States, is the first of its caliber to have been forecasted and monitored through its progression with such first-hand accounts and eyes-in-the-sky intensity. Most of the tornadoes were at least a mile wide. Here's footage of some of the tornadoes captured by people, who, in my opinion, got just a little too close. 280 people now, have been noted as being dead from the destruction, for the record. But the count is still rising as more bodies are found.

Work of Fart

Wow! This kid has talent. Due to writer's block, I am unable to come up with anything so I thought I'd at least leave you with a chuckle. You could also call this a cautionary tale.

Also: I've been told by some of you living outside the U.S. that you are unable to watch the video. I've had trouble with people (in the past), living outside the U.S., not being able to see vids from Spike TV, where this originally comes from. In regards to that, here's a link to the same clip on You Tube. Maybe you'll have better luck seeing it there. It's funny as fuck.

Work of Fart
Tags: Work of Fart

A Unique Alternative-The Conclusion

Ethan looked at the spirit with mild bewilderment at what it had said. His hand rubbed Clara's smooth butt. He smiled. There wasn't much that could surprise him now in comparison to the event of what had just transpired. With this in mind, he wasn't too concerned about what she was about to tell him. Having sexual intercourse with a ghost, he thought, would likely be the most surprising thing that could possibly ever happen in his lifetime.

As it would be for most of us.

Clara looked deep into Ethan's eyes, in complete seriousness, and said, "Daria killed me."

Clara paused, momentarily, then said, "It happened almost a month ago yet to me it seems like yesterday."

Ethan gave the beautiful, slightly luminescent spirit on top of him a stern look and asked, "She killed you? Why?"

Clara continued, "A little over a month ago, Ken and I were working in the same office and we would ocassionally go out to a restaurant, eat lunch together and talk. We were just two co workers getting to know one another."

"You must be talking about something that happened before I became friends with Ken, "stated, Ethan, "I don't remember Ken mentioning you. And I'm sure he would have mentioned someone as hot as you."

Clara laughed for a moment and then said, "Thank you."

The spirit slowly raised up towards the ceiling from the top of Ethan's hairy chest and dissipated in the air. Ethan looked around and asked, "Where are you?"

Clara slowly materialized, nude as she was before, at his bedside to pick up where she left off. Illumination from the streetlight showed through his bedroom curtains. The light passed through Clara without leaving a shadow on the wall. Ethan was relieved when she returned.

Clara explained, "Daria had just begun dating your friend and my co worker at the time. She had seen Ken and I going to restaurants together on a couple occasions and she was becomingly increasingly jealous. She thought Ken was cheating on her with me. This was pure insecurity and paranoia on Daria's part because Ken and I were just co workers and only beginning to become friends."

Ethan pushed, "Go on. I'm listening."

"Ken told me about her increasing jealousy and I told him that maybe it would be for the best for everyone if I didn't have lunches with him anymore. After a few minutes of debate from him about this, he agreed with what I was saying. So we stopped. We only saw each other in the office. After a couple days passed, it seemed as if everything was alright. But Daria was still jealous, according to him, still thinking that he and I were together from time to time. He told me their arguments about our supposed affair were getting bad. And then one night, her fury over something she was only imagining, took over any reasoning she might have had in her little mind."

Ethan knew his friend Ken was faithful. Even obedient. Whatever Daria told him to do, he would do, no matter how ridiculous or insulting it seemed to him. She was his manipulator and he would agree to whatever she wanted.

Ethan shook his head, dreading what the spirit was likely going to say next.

"Daria came into this house- my house, invaded this bedroom, where we are now, clamped my mouth shut while I was asleep and slit my throat open with a knife."

Suddenly, blood began pouring out of an abruptly developing gash in Clara's neck and splattered upon the mattress. The mattress became soaked with gore. Ethan could hear drops of blood hit the wooden bedroom floor, as well. Closing his eyes, Ethan pleaded, "Please... Stop."

The blood disappeared. Clara remained.

"Oh, fuck," said Ethan, realizing his friend's girlfriend was a murderer. Dismayed at what this meant, Ethan shook his head and added, "Now what should I do?" Then he answered his own question. "I have to call the police."

Clara explained further, "The police have already questioned her and asked where she was that night. She told them she was in bed, asleep. They could neither confirm or not confirm she was in her apartment that night. Daria was also careful not to leave fingerprints, using latex gloves on her hands and small bags that covered her shoes."

"Why didn't Ken mention you were killed here or any of this before I moved in?" inquired Ethan, with a small measure of anger.

Clara touched his face and said, "He didn't want to frighten you in any way and he knew you were desperate in your attempt to find a place to live in this area."

And then Clara smiled.

Gradually, Clara ascended upwards and then slowly made her way down upon Ethan. Her head maneuvered towards his groin. Gently, the spirit took his penis into her mouth and she commenced sucking the head of his cock. Ethan's hands roamed through her wavy, dark red hair and her backside. What she was doing felt so good to him. Clara continued, easily engulfing his manhood inside her throat, sucking and licking upon it until he had a mind blowing orgasm.

"OOOOHHH," cried out Ethan. Spurts of semen shot through her head and rained down all over the sheets of his bed.

After they held each other for awhile, Ethan moved away from the spirit. He then flipped over on top of her, thrusting his prick inside Clara, relishing how very real she truly felt. Almost an hour of passion had passed before they climaxed, intensely, together.

Not long after the sun had risen, there was a sudden knock on the front door. Clara disappeared from his arms without notice. Ethan looked around the room, actually feeling alone this time. He sat up on the edge of the bed and pulled his jeans on. Ethan thought Ken and Daria might have seen something of his in their car while moving and were bringing it back to his place.

When he opened the door, sure enough, Ken and Daria were standing there, with a box full of electronic equipment.

Daria smirked and said, "We found some more of your stuff in the trunk and figured you might want this, maybe, before we see you later tonight." At that point she pulled a TV remote control out of the box and tossed it to Ethan. Ethan, tired from the hours of lovemaking and conversation with Clara, fumbled for the remote and dropped it on the doorstep. To add insult to injury, the plastic casing cracked and the batteries fell out. It looked broken.

"Did you make any coffee yet, dude?" asked Daria, "Because you look like shit."

Still trying to comprehend all of the recent events leading up to this moment, Ethan mumbled, "Just had a rough night." Then he added, "But it was an amazing night, as well." Ethan smiled.

Daria said, obviously bored, "That's good. So are you going to make us some coffee or what?" Ken was behind Daria, looking like he was embarrassed by how she was trying to order his friend around. Ethan looked away from him and answered, "Sure." Ethan realized he was going to have to have a talk with Ken about Daria and what crime she had committed there- after he called the police. For the moment, he didn't want to reveal what he knew or what he thought he knew to either Ken or Daria. And what exactly was he going to say to the police about any of this, he wondered.

When Daria and Ken walked into the living room, Daria glanced around, as if she were looking for something. She had a puzzled expression on her face. Slightly frustrated, she joined Ken on the sofa.

While Ethan was in the kitchen, plugging the coffee maker into the wall, he heard a familiar wail coming from the living room. He knew it was Clara, crying out. And then he heard a piercing scream. It felt like his heart was going to stop beating.

Ethan ran into the living room and saw Clara, standing behind Daria. Clara had her arm around Daria, tightly binding her. Daria screamed again, while attempting to escape from Clara's supernatural strength. Clara increased the pressure, causing Daria to shout, "Get off me, you dead fucking bitch!"

With her other arm, Clara reached from behind and produced a knife in her hand. Daria looked at the knife and declared, "I hid that fucking knife here where the cops wouldn't find it." Ken and Ethan saw the dried blood on the knife and remained still, amazed at the sight before them.

Quicker than Ethan could say a word, Clara pressed the knife blade to Daria's throat. Slowly, Clara pulled the knife across Daria's flesh, splitting her neck open. Massive gushes of blood bubbled forth from the widening wound. Daria tried to speak but her vocal cords were severed.

Before Daria closed her eyes, dying, Clara held the knife in front of Daria's fading gaze. The spirit said, "I found the knife." Clara released Daria, allowing her murderer to drop to the floor. Just as Daria's head smacked on the floor, Clara vanished.

When the shock wore off, Ken called the police department and when the cops arrived, the men told them that Daria had slit her own throat and killed herself. They also added that before she died, Daria admitted to having killed Clara in a fit of jealous rage- which Daria didn't admit, though it was true, but that was what they had agreed on telling the police. They told the cops that Daria felt she couldn't bear the burden of what she had done and had to pay for her crime.

Later, the police matched Daria's fingerprints to the knife she used to kill Clara. And neither Ken or Ethan had traces of blood or evidence of a struggle on their clothes and skin. This meant to them that Ken and Ethan couldn't be suspects in either deaths. With the evidence presented, the police closed the case of Clara's murder and considered Daria's death to be a result of suicide.

Two days passed before Clara materialized again in Ethan's bedroom. The spirit glowed faintly, floating from the opposite end of the bed to lay by Ethan. She smiled, then said, "I thought you would leave this place after what has transpired here."

Ethan shook his head and replied, "Not if you stay here with me."

"It doesn't bother you that I'm a ghost?"

Ethan answered, "No. At first, yes. But now I believe I'll choose the unique alternative of being with you instead of a living, breathing ordinary woman."

Clara grinned and asked, "And why is that?"

Ethan smiled and continued, "Because you are beautiful, honest and more alive than any other woman I've had a relationship with."

Clara kissed Ethan. For the remainder of the night, they continued their lovemaking. And for the remainder of Ethan's life on Earth and afterwards, they stayed together.

End of The World Delight

Hey gang, let your old pal, Uncle Kelly, tell ya the tale of a lil' planet of long ago. It was called, oddly enough, Idiotica, and it was outrageously overpopulated with a bunch of wacky two legged creatures. They were called DumbAsses.

Now they say the DumbAsses on planet Idiotica started out as crazy turd-throwin' monkeys. But I don't know about that. I have my own theory that seems a bit more sensible. I think a bunch of messed up, drug lovin' aliens got bored one week and dropped by perfect Idiotica for a bit of experimental hooha. Since the aliens didn't poke each other in the porkholes anymore and they were gettin' tired of lookin' at all of the mountains, oceans and trees- I think they decided to break up the monotony of living on Idiotica with an act that would change everything on the planet. Yes sir, the aliens decided to make a new species of being with their advanced technology. Thus, the DumbAsses were emanated. The aliens, seeing what they created, were so embarrassed, they took off like a flea and didn't come back for a real long time.

So after the aliens left the DumbAsses to make decisions for themselves, the Early DumbAsses right away began playing "Take Mr. Stinky and Push Him Into The Taco of Love." When they weren't doing that, they would hunt down vermin, eat til their bellies bloat and hit each other with sticks.

Oddly enough, a lot of the inhabitants of Idiotica delighted in their worship of inanimate objects. The theory being- If ya sing your praises to a rock, the rock will give your people a head of lettuce and other stuff. Here's a sample of a couple of their prayers:

Oh statue of a god I just made up

Please tell me what I should do.

Should I take my first born

And drown him in the river

Or allow him to grow up to be a fine DumbAss like me?

Another one...

Oh big ol' shiny ball in the sky

You are so great

And look so good up there

Could you make it so we have enough beans for the winter

I love you

Later, the folks of Idiotica moved on to praying to deities they couldn't see. A lot of times, they would fight over their deities and beliefs and cause plentiful bloodshed for anyone who didn't believe what they believed. They even had festive events called Inquisitions where they would pick a disbeliever out from the crowd and slowly torture them to an agonizing death. Ha ho! They sure knew how to have a jolly ol' time!

It's been on record in the history books that one of the knights, during a holy war, had this to say, as he plunged his sword into the chest of an unarmed DumbAss, "Come-come, my good man. Cannot you see the practicality of believing in the glory of my god?" The unarmed DumbAss had this to say, "Ahhhh!" Then he died.

During the Industrial Age, The DumbAsses made something that would change their world for years to come. It was called pollution and they used it to slowly poison themselves to death. Hurray!

Another wacky thing the DumbAsses liked ta do was cut down trees. They weren't happy, it seemed, until they cut down every last one. When all the rain forests were wiped out, they noticed (a bit too late) that good clean air and oxygen was a bit scarce.

A lot of crazy things they did to pollute and ravage the planet also changed the weather. It was called global warming. Whew! It's gettin' hot in here. Can you kids say s-l-o-w-d-e-a-t-h?

The main objective of living on Idiotica, of course, was to get more moola (money). And enough was never enough for the typical DumbAss. And the more ya had, the more other DumbAsses seemed to respect ya. Which is funny and truly pathetic when ya think about it. Ha ho! Those crazy DumbAsses loved and worshiped those lil' green pieces of paper more than any other god on Idiotica. In fact, the whole ecosystem of Idiotica was forsaken for the Almighty Dollar. Golly!

Every so often, the DumbAsses of Idiotica would elect a new president, king or puppet. One country of DumbAsses, in particular, prided itself on being free. Free ta do what? The only freedom these DumbAsses really had was the right to vote for a new ruler every so often. They didn't get to make the laws of their land. They didn't get ta decide how much money would be ripped out of their paychecks to support their government. And many times, the DumbAsses' government would control the DumbAsses by telling them lies and forcing them to watch ancient reruns of Gilligan's Island or worse yet, The Jerry Springer Show. Excuse me now- while I puke up a Toyota.

And good gollykins but those DumbAsses enjoyed a good war. It would always be about land, religion, fossil fuels or the color of skin. These DumbAsses would kill each other like there was no tomorrow. Crazy fun for one and all! They wouldn't be satisfied until they had annihilated almost everybody in a big ol' murderous frenzy.

Now a couple DumbAsses would try to rally people for the cause of peace.

Peace. Peace. Peace. That's all they would talk about. They, of course, were killed instantly. Where did they think they were? On another planet or something?

The world wars that would be engaged in later were over food, water and the basic necessities of life. Strangely enough, instead of pulling together so that their species had a chance of surviving, they continued to kill and kill and kill one another. Imagine that!

Finally, the aliens came back to check up on the DumbAsses, ready to introduce themselves proper and such. But when they arrived, they saw that the folks on Idiotica had enough nuclear warheads and other high powered weaponry to entirely destroy their planet 50 X 3 plus 2 and decided the DumbAsses were intent on killing themselves and weren't worth their time and trouble.

With the advent of the predicted Final World War, the seas and oceans boiled while the lands of Idiotica burned with the fires of nuclear devastation. Alas, there was to be no surviving for any DumbAss due to complete widespread fallout and radiation. And did I mention fire? Woohoo!

What started out as a perfectly beautiful, life sustaining planet was eventually turned into a perfectly destroyed ashen rock of lifelessness. The End.

Gosh, you sure didn't see that coming. Did you? Ha ha! Well, this is Uncle Kelly, bidding you a joyous farewell and sweet happy dreams. Aloha, adios and goodbye!

Controversial Topics

The following are my opinions, beliefs and what have you, regarding today's controversial topics. They are supposedly controversial in the U.S., anyway. I'm not looking for an argument, nor am I attempting to persuade anyone to think the way I do on these subjects. I've learned long ago that spending too much time convincing anyone of anything is usually futile, tiresome and a waste of my time. I just felt like throwing these convictions out there. If you wish to comment, regarding whether you agree, disagree or haven't decided yet on all or any of these topics, feel free. However, try not to get too crazy or worked up about any of them. I don't want anyone to push themselves into a heart attack or brain hemorrhage. Or... Well... Maybe I do. You'll never know. Heh heh.

Also: A lot of people think there is a gray area with some of these issues. I happen not to feel that way.

Blah. Blah. Blah. Here ya go!

Gun Control- People have an issue with this because they believe it is dangerous for people to keep a gun inside their house. It is dangerous, only, if you don't keep your gun in a secure place. For the most part, people keep their guns locked up. The few who don't keep their guns secured safely and, as a result, a death or accident occurs, should be punished. So... I emphatically disagree with those who oppose the rights and free will of citizens owning guns and having them in their homes. This is another issue to me that seems pretty simple and straightforward. I know there are some of you out there in the Unreal World who would like to make this a gray area type of subject but it's not. Sorry. Well, actually, I'm not. Heh heh. Everyone has the right to protect themselves. End of story.

Abortion- It's murder. What's worse is that abortion is the killing of an innocent life. If the baby is unwanted, give the baby to an adoption agency so it may be allowed to live. If the woman of the baby is raped, the baby should still be allowed to live a full a life. It is not the baby's fault that it's mother was attacked by a worthless piece of human shit. The only gray area, albeit, a touch of gray in this issue, is if there is a situation where the baby, for certain, is endangering the mother's life. In my opinion, the mother should be the one to survive. But, overall, I believe abortion to be wrong. And this statement is coming from someone who isn't that crazy, in general, about kids or people. Kind of ironic, aye?

War On Drugs- It hasn't worked. It will never work. It is a pointless endeavor on the part of our government. Making drugs illegal only benefits the Mafia and drug dealers, monetarily. If we were, for instance, to tax cannabis, like we do cigarettes, we would be able to remove a lot of this country's national debt and we could use that revenue for many things that the states of this country needs. Such as the reparation of roads, bridges and schools. I'd also like to point out the obvious... Marijuana is not dangerous. Alcohol, which is legal, on the other hand, can be very dangerous. Hard drugs, such as heroin and crack, I agree, are incredibly threatening to one's health but it should be left to you whether you do something stupid to yourself or no not. It's your life.

The Death Penalty- I'm all for ending the life of a serial killer or child abuser/rapist. These are not innocent people and are deserving of death. I will cheerfully pull the lever for the electric chair or the trigger of a gun if I were asked to do so in order to end a guilty life, while showing absolutely no remorse as I do so.

Religion- Is bullshit. All organized religion is. People have used religion as an excuse to create war. Religion is a man-made creation, designed to push people into acting against rational behaviour.

God- Yes, I believe in a higher being or beings that created the Universe. Call Him, Her or It whatever you want. If the name, God, works for you, so be it. I don't have proof of His or Hers or It's existence. I only have my own particular faith and feelings to go by concerning "God". I believe in an afterlife, too. All of those folks who have had Near Death Experiences can't be wrong. I base my belief in some personal experiences I've had in the past, as well. Long stories.

Illegal Immigration- The economic and social consequences of illegal immigration are staggering. Illegal aliens have cost billions of taxpayer-funded dollars for medical services. Illegal Immigration is a net drain on the economy; corporate interests reap the benefits of cheap labor, while taxpayers pay the infrastructural cost. If the person wishing to immigrate here has a green card and is honestly striving to become a citizen of this great land of greed, vanity and insanity, well, then, I scream, "Welcome to The Psycho Carnival, fuckers!"

For all those wishing to engage me in some insane argument about any of this, please, don't bother. I have better things to do with my time than get into a heated dispute... especially on the Internet. Instead, pop open a beer, put up your feet, don't take yourself or life too seriously and watch this hilarious video. Aloha.

Dead

First, Gary Coleman and now, Dennis Hopper. That sucks. "Watchoo talkin' about, Willis?"

Homeless Man Dies As People Look And Walk By

Rather than repeat what I read a couple days ago, I figured I'd rip the story right from the source. Don't tell. :)

This actually happened several days ago.

From The New York Post:

A heroic homeless man, stabbed after saving a Queens woman from a knife-wielding attacker, lay dying in a pool of blood for more than an hour as nearly 25 people indifferently strolled past him, a shocking surveillance video obtained by The Post reveals.

Some of the passers-by paused to stare at Hugo Alfredo Tale-Yax last Sunday morning and others leaned down to look at his face.

He had jumped to the aid of a woman attacked on 144th Street at 88th Road in Jamaica at 5:40 a.m., was stabbed several times in the chest and collapsed as he chased his assailant.

In the wake of the bloodshed, a man came out of a nearby building and chillingly took a cellphone photo of the victim before leaving. And in several instances, pairs of people gawked at Tale-Yax without doing anything.

Later, another man stopped, leaned over and vigorously shook Tale-Yax’s body. After lifting the victim’s head and body to reveal a pool of blood, he also walked off.

Not until some 15 minutes after he was shaken by the pedestrian — more than an hour and 20 minutes after the victim collapsed — did firefighters finally arrive and discover that Tale-Yax, 31, had died.

Firefighters were responding to a 911 call of a non-life-threatening injury at 7:23 a.m. when they found his body.

Cops said they received four 911 calls at around the time of the attack reporting a woman screaming, but found nothing. They received no other 911 calls.

The indifference of the pedestrians echoed the infamous 1964 murder of Kitty Genovese in Kew Gardens, Queens.

Her desperate screams after being stabbed failed to rouse assistance from the dozen or so people many neighbors who heard them.

George Subraj, owner of Zara Realty, which owns the building next to the murder scene, also gave surveillance footage to the NYPD for its investigation of the case.

The video shows an unidentified woman, standing about 5-foot-3 and wearing a jacket and skirt, walking down 144th Street near 88th Road with her cell phone in hand until.

As she walks under a protective scaffolding next to a building, a man is following her. He is described as 5-foot-6, wearing a green short sleeve shirt and dark pants with a green hat.

As that man accosts the woman under the scaffolding, Tale-Yax walks toward them.

Within seconds, the killer is seen on the video running out from the scaffolding and up 144th St, as the woman heads off in the opposite direction.

Tale-Yax then chases after his murderer, who had stabbed him several times in the torso with a knife, but immediately collapses face down onto the sidewalk.

Within a minute or so, the first of a long series of people begins walking by Tale-Yax without going to his aid.

That man, carrying a small bag, gave the dying Tale-Yax a glance before continuing on his way.

The victim’s body was claimed by someone whom the Medical Examiner’s Office declined to identify, and taken to a Brooklyn funeral home.

No arrests have been made, and the police have been unable to identify the woman Tale-Yax was trying to help.

Anyone with information about the murder is asked to call the NYPD’s Crime Stoppers Hotline--------------------

What gets me about this poor human being, Tale-Yax, is not only lethally stabbed while coming to the aid of this woman, but he could have been possibly saved if anyone had gotten him help as he slowly died. An entire hour or so goes by as 25 fuckers walk past him, not doing much of anything, except giving him an indifferent look. One asshole adds insult to the man's dignity and life by lifting the head of the homeless guy, sees the big pool underneath, drops the head and keeps on walking. Wow! Wish I could find that indifferent asshole and cave his head in with a baseball bat. I know the "an the eye for an eye" thing doesn't work for everyone but it can sure make a person feel good in certain situations.

This should be the kind of news that bothers everyone.

If you've read or have seen this story on the news or elsewhere and didn't feel something... anger... pity... disgust... something.... Then I encourage you to re-evaluate your humanity or lack of it and try hard to get some of it back again.

If that's the standard way (the completely indifferent way) of Big City Pedestrians, in regards to their fellow human beings, homeless or not, I don't want to live there. I'll stay in my small town where people wouldn't do walk by and do nothing to help somebody who is dying. I've read pathetic comments on this story suggesting that these fuckers walked by because they thought he was just another homeless bum, lying on the sidewalk, sleeping off his booze. Because of his stature in society, he did not rate as a human being. To these people, his life had no more value than a turd.

Hey, you fucking assholes in New York, I've got news for you! Tale-Yax was a human being. Even before he saved that woman's life. Don't stand there and take pictures of the man to add to your collection in your Facebook photo album, you sick fuckers! Don't walk by when you see someone that may be dead or dying!

Do something!

The video below shows Tale-Yax, the human being and the indifferent fuckers who walked by.

Worse Than Sniffing Panties

When toe sucking and panty sniffing just isn't sick enough for some depraved fuckers, people will engage in the following fetishes and activities:

Furry Fandom

What is it? It's fucking bizarre, that's what it is. It involves a bunch of people dressing up as anthropomorphic animals or watching other freaks doing the same. Members of this fandom watch pornography of people dressed in animal suits, engaging in sexual acts while doing so (most of the time, they will be in a costume, themselves).

This fetish was highlighted on a TV show, not long ago. On an episode of "1000 Ways to die", they showed a reenactment and told a story about an idiot who is high on magic mushrooms, stumbling upon a group of these Furry Fandom weirdos in a secluded desert area. All of the participants were dressed as animals, getting it on, having a grand ol' time. The dude on mushrooms sees this and wants to get in on the bizarre action, as well. All members of the party push him away and he goes off into the woods nearby and finds a bear. A real bear. Gee... Can you guess what happens next? Yes, the drugged up freak tries to fuck the bear and is mauled to death as a result. Its funny because he deserved it. Its just too bad the rest of the party wasn't killed by the bear.

I have the video of this episode posted at the bottom of this page for a limited time. Click on the link beneath the video if the video isn't working. Sometimes it does. Sometimes not.

Teratophilia

Being sexually attracted to people who suffer from deformities, such as amputees or inviduals having a baby head growing out of their armpit is called Teratophilia. There's a lot of pornography dedicated to this type of fetish.

There are some freaks with an extreme version of this fetish that will search for doctors to perform amputation on them for the sole reason of attaining sexual pleasure. They can come to me for the job. I won't charge a penny. I'll be more than happy to cut off their arms and legs and throw them in the river. After all, the human gene pool needs to be cleaned of more than just a few imbeciles. As they float, stumpy-as-all-get-out, down the Ohio River, I will be sure to shout, "Bon Voyage, Bob!" Get it? Bob.

Omorashi

This is a fetish found mostly in Japan. It involves sexual gratification around having a full bladder. In most cases, sexual climax coincides with the moment of relief and it is sometimes associated with other urine-related fetishes. Most pornography for this fetish is soft core and involves clothed women squirming about on chairs or whatever, looking uncomfortable as they struggle not to wet themselves.

Crush Fetish

This one involves the desire to see small insects or animals being crushed to death. It is illegal in the U.S. and United Kingdom. Pornography created for this often entails a woman crushing an animal beneath her feet, usually shown in slow motion replays. Really... Fucking... Sick.

These examples prove, yet again, that the human gene pool needs a good cleaning. That's all for now. Happy thoughts, everyone!

Toadie in "Road Rage Spectacular"

Reggie was honking his horn and beating on the steering wheel, angry and frustrated from the traffic jam. The guy and female passenger in front of his Chevy would stick their heads out their windows, laughing and giving him "the fuck you" sign of peace every so often. On this hot August day, this was pissing Reggie off to the point where he was thinking about killing a few people, namely, the fuckwads in front of him.

The interstate, Reggie and the fuckwads was on, long and heavily congested. The longer people had to wait to get home from work or wherever, the angrier they got.

When Reggie reached the maximum limit of his patience, the female fuckwad in front stuck her naked, zit-covered ass up against the back windshield. Bad timing. Reggie had pulled back his powered-up car far enough to create some distance between them.

Reggie revved up his engine and cut loose, in every way imaginable and otherwise. Without haste, Reggie plowed into the car in front of him, obliterating the car's back bumper, sending the girl soaring over her front seat, with the end result of her head cracking the front windshield and her blood dribbling down the glass. Tim, her multi-talented sex partner, was shocked. And bleeding profusely from the crash. Upon impact, his face had smashed into the steering wheel of his car with enough force to break his nose and almost all of his teeth.

Tim was dazed and bleeding heavily, but anger took over. He found the strength to stomp on the gas peddle and ram Reggie's car. That was the idea, anyway. Reggie was smart enough to drive around the cars in front of him... just before Tim got to him. Instead Tim's car hit a large white truck. A muscular man got out of this big truck, with a baseball bat, full of deadly intent.

Tim, depressed that he missed Reggie's car, fondled his girlfriend's titties, for comfort. She, in turn, had just enough strength to pull a nine millimeter out of her purse and put a smoking hole in Tim's forehead. She smiled, suffering through blood soaked eyes and died, instantly, thereafter.

Toadie had been calmly watching the ensuing mayhem. Other drivers were getting involved, as well, cursing and screaming. Some were threatening. Some screaming and threatening.

That's when Toadie got out his machine gun and various knives that had been nestled safely in his special "Toolkit Of Death". After masturbating to the thought of killing everyone in sight, Toadie, truly armed to the fucking teeth, got out of his vehicle and said, with pride, "Toadie make everyone's day much brighter with the color of crimson and other shades of red. Ahoy!"

Still hard as a rock, Toadie stood, triumphantly, and shot everyone on sight, laughing hard as heads popped open like fresh spring cantaloupe or something. When the tv and newspaper media vehicles got to the scene, they were killed by Toadie, as well. Their blood lovingly pooled and then drifted off into a sea of red and eventually swelled on the ground and cement... forming small oceans.

No one could defend themselves with Toadie's deadly skills against them. Minutes later, the smoke cleared.

No longer -was the screaming heard. No more vehicles were exploding from Toadie's favorite bazooka. No more bodies fell, raggedly, making splashes in the lakes of blood. All was silent and calm.

Toadie farted.

History was made that day and everyone in the nation helped in their own way to make Toadie a TV sensation and America's new hero. Toadie would remember that mid-afternoon day, often, and with much fondness while stroking his wang, full of glee, until he came.

Spurt.

Afterwards, he would shout, "Modugalphagimminna!"