An Award From The Minute Man's Wife and Unbridled Insanity

And by god damned it, I'm back and seething with such ungodly friggin' rage, I'm gonna park my small car after just having gone to the bar parking lot for some excitement, stick pickles up my ass, while using a sawzall on my penis head, all the while using a penis pump, beforehand, (to get my junk- Grade A- good n' hard, ya know) while having a crooked neck giraffe give me a deep anal lickin' and have it topped off with the spiritually uplifting rim job of a lifetime from an anteater at the zoo.

Woo Fucking Hoo! and pass the fucking Valium after I go really crazy and drink a cup of shitty, chemical-tasting decaffeinated coffee. What in the fuck is decaffeinated coffee for? Don't give me any of that bullshit like "It's for people who enjoy the taste of coffee but are afraid of the staying awake a couple hours past their wussy bedtime". Fuck that! Grow a set of balllllllssss or flabby pussy lips, depending on your gender! That shit ain't coffee!!! That shit defeats the goddamn purpose of drinking god damned coffee!!! Excuse me here for a split second while I chop some fucker's head off and wear it on my rigid, cheerfully erect pecker (reference to the book, American Psycho) while I pour myself a god damned fresh cup of REAL COFFEE.

So... how have you guys been? Good? Ah, that's nice.

So, yeah, I'm back one more time until something eventually falls from the sky and caves my head in. I wonder what it will be? A meteor. I can handle that. A hundred pounds of frozen waste from an airplane going overhead? That would be like a fly gently floating by my ear and cutting a fart. Hardly noticeable.

Fuck, I'm so fucking shell shocked by recent events, nothing could be a surprise. Actually, when nothing at all worrisome is happening to the wife and I and all is cool and all is right- that's when I begin to worry. If my life suddenly begins to transform into something resembling almost harmonious, take fucking cover, immediately! That will be the true sign of the Apocalypse! Fuck that old idiot, Camping and his Rapture. Buddy, I got your Rapture right here!

But things are starting to head in the right direction. If nothing else occurs, I will be 60% satisfied. That's equivalent, to some fuckers that have a hard on or wetty for that most dreaded of made up percentages, that some like to say out loud, in a sad attempt to impress- and that would be "110%". Take your 110% and shove it way up your ass with your decaffeinated coffee you superficial, motherfuckin', crooked neck, rim job lickin' stain from a rancid pussy fart!

No, not you, my friend. The guy or girl behind you.

Sorry. Where did I hide my mind again? Ohhh yeahhhh...

Did you know that Winnie The Pooh, Rabbit and Tigger violated Piglet in all of his orifices, so brutally, until his colon eventually fell out onto the ground where it was eaten by all of the rest of the crack-addicted Hundred Acre Wood critters? Well, it's true. It's says so in the bible. It's the start of the Rapture, in fact! You're welcome for the heads up.

While on a much needed sabbatical, three (and possibly a fourth one on the way) bloggers acted as guest posters.

Mrs. Pickle from the blog, Pickles In My Ass, The Wolf, from the blog, The S.N.A.F.U Report and Pickleope from the blog, Pickleope.com have all been generous enough to give of their unique talents and be my guest posters for the last couple of weeks. I thank all of you for your support, time and well-written and often, extremely hilarious, posts. In my tirade, at the beginning of this post, I think you might have noticed a little referencing to their posts in a somewhat genial way.

You guys really know how to make me laugh out loud while sticking my pecker in a pickle slicer.

I also want to thank genuine supporter and thoughtful blogger, The Minute Man's Wife, for the Good Bloggers Pay It Forward Award, while I was away. I've connected with her the last several months, at a sympathetic, supportive level in the blogging community in a way that I feel honestly appreciative for. She's one of the nicest of nicest people that you'll ever have the pleasure of interacting with. The Minute Man's Wife gave me, a crazy bastard, who has a heart of gold, filled with flesh-eating maggots, this award for being supportive. I am grateful and touched by this.

Amazed? Choking on a drink, suddenly? You shouldn't be. Not only am I swell but I'm modest as hell, too. Yep.

Take a gander at The Minute Man's Wife's blog, but please remember, no sex toys allowed while visiting.

Look to your extreme right. It's already there with the rest of my awards.

Oh dear lord almighty, have I just been blessed again? Easy rules for this award! Hooray!

The rules for this particular award are, thankfully, weep-worthingly easy.

1) Tell everyone who gave you the award. (I did)

2) Put up a link to their blog. (Done)

3) Pay it Forward to five more bloggers. (Going to)

In no particular order, here are the five bloggers, in my opinion, in the past, who have exemplified support, which the award is supposed to represent:

(1) Rebecca (The Snee) from the blog, The Sometimes, Never, Eventually Express

(2) Gary, from the blog, klahanie

(3) LilPixi, from the blog, It's a Lollipop world

(4) GEM, from the blog, the modern day spinster

(5) Last but not least, Mrs. Pickle, from the blog, Pickles In My Ass

Be sure to check them out or you'll get the lash!

Now this isn't to say the rest of you have not been supportive and secretly or not so secretly wish me a slow, torturous death involving me being naked, with my nuts, honey coated and ready to be torn away by the sharp teeth of rabid rodents. Besides, I don't wash my scrotum but once every leap year. Ah Ha!

I do this to keep the rodents away and because I like the sticky, pasty feeling so much. Plus, it's for the sake of any house guests who come over every so often for my famous homemade putrid cheese dip.

Where was I? Oh, yes.

I want to thank the rest of you for your support by way of commenting on my blog while I was gone, just visiting and for all the other interactions on the Internet. You know who you are. You guys have been great. Thank you!

Don't forget to take home some of my homemade cheese dip before you leave. It's deeeeelish! But whatever you do, don't drink decaffeinated coffee.

Take care, my friends!

They're Selling This?

What a Beautiful Musical

Check out this musical, featuring Lego toy people. You may be surprised how good it is. Heh heh.

Watch Silence of the Lambs: The Musical on CollegeHumor

Evil Elmo

A Lithia family says a cuddly, programmable Elmo doll revealed its dark side yesterday after fresh batteries were installed.

Instead of singing songs or reciting the favorite color of its 2-year-old owner, James Bowman, the doll started making death threats, the family says.

With a squeeze of its fuzzy belly, the Sesame Street character now says, in a sing-song voice, "Kill James." "It's not something that really you would think would ever come out of a toy," said Melissa Bowman, James' mother. "But once I heard, I was just kind of distraught."

The Elmo Knows Your Name doll, which connects to a computer to learn certain phases and names, recently ran out of battery power, Bowman said.

About an hour after she put new ones in, "I noticed exactly what it was saying," Bowman said. "And my son was repeating exactly what it was saying."
Bowman said Elmo is James' favorite character. James even has Elmo slippers, but the malfunctioning, death-threat-spouting Elmo Knows Your Name doll is now being kept away from her son, Bowman said.

"This is his absolute favorite toy," she said. "So we've been going through a lot of hassle because he's trying to climb up the counter and up the closets to get it."

Fisher-Price, the toy company that manufactures the dolls, said it will issue the Bowmans a voucher for a replacement doll. The company said it will examine James' model for the source of the problem and check whether other Elmos are experiencing the same malfunction.