The Furious Gingerbread Man

The Gingerbread Man was furious.  With weapon in hand, he was determined to slay those who dared to stand in his way.  For too many years, his brethren had been made for the sole purpose of being devoured.

"Why must this be the way of things?" asked The Gingerbread Man.

He raised his hardened cake fist, shook it furiously and sobbed.

Somehow, he thought to himself, he would find a way to make humanity pay.

Suddenly, a dog came up and began munching on his gingerbread penis.  This made The Gingerbread Man even more furious.  The Gingerbread Man cried out, "I will be eaten no longer!  I have rights!  How dare you eat me!"

The dog, blown away by the fact that a cookie was talking to him, said, "Well, if this isn't some freaky shit, I don't know what is."  And then the dog walked off, shaking his head and vowed to get some therapy.  He realized, in those moments, that the preceding event would likely scar him for life if he didn't receive help and support with this issue.  And then he licked his balls.

Furious, the Gingerbread Man ran as fast as he could back to his gingerbread house.  He poured himself a drink and began to relax. Just as his nerves were beginning to settle, a man child approached and took a huge bite out of his home.

"Oh no you didn't!" screamed the really incredibly furious gingerbread man.

The man child took another big bite off the top of the roof, gobbling up a chocolate candy heart.

"MMMM... Tasty," said the man child, as cookie crumbles fell out of his mouth.  The man child continued eating the gingerbread house with as much enthusiasm as a crack addict scoring a rock after being without a high for a day.

Finally, the man child's mother called out the man child's name and the little brat reluctantly ran to her, throwing a tantrum and pissing himself before throwing a fork at his mom's head.

The mother plucked the embedded fork from her forehead and with a reassuring tone, she said, "Ohhhh... that's okay, dear.  Mommy will get a boo boo band aid for her head and then mommy will let you eat the rest of the gingerbread house because you are such a good little boy."


The Gingerbread Man, even more furious than before, had had enough.

 He shouted, "Sweet Satan, Lord of All Who Dwell in Darkness, please give me the power to destroy those who wish to do me harm!"

A black fog swirled around The Gingerbread Man.  Electricity filled the air around him.  The flames of hell began to engulf him.  When the flames disappeared, his form had changed.  The Gingerbread Man became possessed with the spirit of a demon.  And a single perfect cookie dropped from his crusty butthole.

For a moment, he felt sweet relief.

Then he became enraged because he remembered he was supposed to be furious.  In the days to come, the Gingerbread Man gathered up his fellow gingerbread brethren and created a mighty delicious army.

Furious, The Gingerbread Man commanded his army to fight the humans.  So powerful were the gingerbread army, in their quest, that they did, indeed, conquer all of humanity and laid waste to all of their creations.  Dogs were ridden, against their will, by the gingerbread men, as if they were horses.

True.

Those humans who were not slain, were forced into slavery, cock fighting and prostitution.  And when the humans were forced to copulate, the gingerbread men ate their children.

And thus began The Ten Thousand Year Reign of The Gingerbread Men.  All hail their might, wisdom and absolute power!

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!

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!"

Onthophagus Taurus and Dryer Vents

The beetle, Onthophagus Taurus, is an insect that is able to pull 1, 141 times it's own body weight. It is the equivalent of a 150 lb person lifting six double-decker buses. Now that, my friends, is strong.

If I could do that, without pulling groin hernia #3 on myself, I could do some wondrous things. For instance, I could pull myself up from behind the dryer when I get stuck. Every time I clean the air vent behind my dryer I get stuck with no way out, except this narrow three inch gap between the dryer and counter top which rises up past my nipples... almost. Rarely, do I try to squeeze through the three inch gap. I've almost lost my "stick and balls" that way. So there I am, usually, cursing and wishing I had waited on cleaning the dryer vent until the wife gets home. At least she helps to pull me out every so often or feeds me time to time so I won't collapse in a crumpled heap behind the dryer, sucking on dryer lint for nourishment. She's sweet that way.

By the way, you are correct in assuming that the picture above, is one of two Onthophagus Taurus beetles gettin' it on, doin' the wild thing or boning. Looks like a pretty horny situation, if you ask me.

Back to this spectacular, resilient bug: The females bury most of their fecal matter (like cow droppings) instead of carrying them. Sounds practical. The females build tunnels through the shit to lay their eggs in. Sounds disgusting. It's through these tunnels that mating and pre-mating fights between the males takes place. Fighting and fucking in shit sounds like joyous fun for all. Not.

The male beetles, that are hornless, have to rely on strategic trickery when it comes to fighting in the tunnels. Instead of waiting at the entrance of the tunnels, as the horned beetles do, the hornless ones hide out in self-built side tunnels and sneak in to mate before getting caught by a horned beetle.

Horned males, however, combat head-to-head. Their horns kind of meet on their shoulders. They push each other backward and forward, with the male that is being pushed hardest, bracing, as it is being pushed.

Imagine getting into a fight with one of these creatures if it was six feet in length or more. I wonder what kind of fighting that would entail. I do know one thing... I wouldn't follow them back into their shitty homes. And keeping a few as prisoners or slaves wouldn't work for me. I couldn't handle the stench. No, I think I would just leave them be. Maybe give them some kind of hygiene kit from Bath and Body Works for Christmas every other year or something.

Where was I going with this? Hell, I don't know. I've got a dryer vent to clean, damn it. Later.

Sorry If I've Caused Concern -Part 3

As mentioned before, I felt guilty for not being able to get up to mom and dad's place in time. I felt I let mom die.

This and missing Mom for her unconditional love and advice started my depression. Sure, I was told by friends, co-workers and family that it wasn't my fault. But there were a few who gave no response. Which I didn't know how to take. Most of the time, I felt they were judging me. Either that or I thought they were androids from some unknown galaxy. Anyway, I felt responsible no matter how much logic was thrown at me.

So while my depression was literally killing me in health and spirit, my time on my last few jobs was pure hell for one and all. On more than a few occasions, in the middle of putting together a brake part, I would either cry or have a fit with myself. I would even talk and answer myself. What fun! It's always so nice when you have a bunch of people you know (and semi-respect) give you that look of dismay and extreme confusion. In the old days, when friends would give me that look, I would treasure it like a badge of honor. But a little over two years ago, those days had been long gone. This is what I found out.... in hard and unusual ways. I was not fit to work anywhere.

And my next two jobs, after that brake assembly job, made that judgement call all the more true.

I would throw things, yell at people, break stuff and create some type of verbal chaos now and then that would result in being reprimanded in some way. Never before had I acted so irrationally on the job. Now.... I would have a confrontation with a person or two, in the past, if I thought they were doing something wrong, but this shit was something different.

I remember pushing over twenty, ten foot high stacks of plastic crates over a catwalk type area and causing most everyone in the warehouse to shit their pants, at once. No one died, if that's what you're wondering. Twenty plus years of working hard in the retail business and warehouses and now I was having a fucking meltdown. Sing ta BuhJesus and halley-yoooo-ya!

Now here's another element to the story you should know: I have two and a half inch heel spurs in both of my goddamn feet. They have been causing me tremendous pain for most of my life. And yes, I have used every kind of cushion, foam or whatever footware contraption to help with the pain. The podiatrist I have been seeing, off and on since my early twenties, said they were the biggest he had ever seen. He still says that. I saw the x-rays. They look and feel like curved railroad spikes. The podiatrist has said both verbally and in health records that they cannot be removed due to the fact the spurs have grown so large, they have connected completely to the bones in my feet.

Little medical lesson:

Spurs are formed at the at heel by way of calcium deposits travelling down your leg. Your brain is responsible for sending a message to your feet (by way of sending these little bits of bony crap) as an attempt to somehow "protect" your damaged heel area. Unfortunately, your brain fails miserably in this scenario.

Note: I also have neuropathy of the feet. Look it up if you're curious. I'm also 80% deaf in one year and have astigmatism in both eyes. And don't forget the high blood pressure. Eight pills, two insulin shots and still counting. Have I mentioned the depression?

I'm 46, in case you're wondering.

Life is grand. Sarcasm. Yes, I know I could have it much worse but when you put everything altogether, it does make an impressive list.

But I'm not done yet.

I also have a condition called "equinus foot". Click the link if you're interested in knowing more about that. The short version is... It's a deformity of the feet. Because of my "equinus foot" condition, my heel spurs formed. When I walked or stood, I was growing spurs and suffering from them as they developed over the years. I was told long ago by my podiatrist that if he were to operate and remove my heel spurs, they would eventually grow back in a couple of years. This is why I didn't have the procedure done. Too costly and ineffective.

While my working years ached onward, my condition worsened. I was often asked by people I knew, co-workers and people I didn't know, why I wasn't trying to get social security disability. I had told them I wasn't going to try that because (1) I didn't think I would get it. And (2) I had too much pride to accept it. In my mind, you were a lazy, cheating piece of shit if you got it and you were still able to move.

But now I understand the truth.

Cutting to the chase of the story, I had become convinced that I should try to get social security benefits. It took 3 attempts, a judge on a monitor from an out-of-state web cam, an asshole for a lawyer and lots of legwork (from me) but I finally won the case after a year and eight months.

As for my physical health, I am exorcising on a Nu-Step bike/rowboat thing at the Community Center. I do 35 minutes of that, putting in close to two miles. They have an excellent compilation of exercise equipment. I also take walks, stopping occasionally, behind my apartment at a city park.

I am fighting.

I don't feel as guilty about things I've done in the past, either. In fact, I feel very non-guilty about anything I do or say anymore. I never felt like that in the past. This feeling may be a very bad thing for everyone involved. We'll see. Or, I'll see. See. Told you I was crazy.

The best piece of wisdom I had ever gotten from a psychiatrist was just recently:

To fight.

Don't wonder or care how you're going to get through it. Just fight. He told me he could tell I was a fighter by three different signs. The first was: I was there, in the room, talking to him, seeking help. Two, he had me perform a test that seemed incredibly simple the first few seconds. My psychiatrist gave me five pieces of folded cardboard. Then he told me to rip them in half. It was a thick and bulky block but I thought it was going to be easy. I must have tried ripping the shit apart for five or more minutes. I was gritting my teeth. Cursing. And so on.

Then I asked him if I could unfold each piece and rip each individual piece of cardboard apart. He said, "And that's the other reason you are a fighter. You would do anything to accomplish anything you wanted. You tried brute force. That didn't work. You went at your objective at every angle. No luck. You even tried to cheat, in a manner, to reach your goal. Your passion, no matter how deep you bury it, is still there. You do not stop."

And then I knew what he meant. It hit me. Lightning bolt. Boom.

It really isn't the end result you should concentrate on. It isn't the horrible hurdles you have to go through. It's the fighting to get up in the morning and live is what matters.

There was a third sign but it had to do with a personal story of his own. Unfortunately, I could hardly understand it due to his thick foreign accent but he already had me at the second sign. Heh heh.

And now I've changed again in my life, still with some bad thoughts, but not like before. I'm still negative about this world's populace and I'm still crazy, maybe even more so, but now my depression has lessened and I'm working on getting healthier. So there you go.

A Time of Merriment

STICK YOUR BRAIN IN A BOWL OF GOO
WATCH THE ELEPHANTS PLAY HORSESHOES
TASTE THE CRAZY IN THE WALL STREET FRAY
CROSS YOUR FINGERS
AND DANCE IN THE BLAZE

UNCLE SAM
HE WANTS TA SEE
EVERYTHING INSIDE OF YOU AND ME
IF THE MONKEY OBEYS
AND NEGLECTS TO SEE
MONKEY GETS TREAT WHILE GETTING REAMED

IT'S RAINING MISERY IN THE LANDS OF SAND
LIVES ARE SNUFFED FOR A SCHEME SO GRAND
POLITICS PLAYS A TUNE FOR YOU
WHILE WARS RAGE ON
AND CONSUME THE SOUL OF MAN

Couples Fighting In Public

A friend of mine was telling me about the last time he and his wife had a squabble in a crowded store several weeks ago. His brother-in-law was there with them, wishing he hadn't tagged along. My buddy's wife was cursing at him, shouting loudly enough for everyone to hear, causing all eyes to be on them. The brother-in-law walked away, went outside to the car and waited for the inside show to be over. My friend, unfortunately, stuck around, quiet as always, while her screaming continued. He told me how embarrassing it was. I told him, since it wasn't her first time pulling a public tantrum, that she may do it because she knows he won't say anything back to her, to further amplify the drama and awe of curious onlookers. That way, in her mind, she wins. He agreed to the possibility.

I don't understand why anyone would choose to pick a fight in a public place. I guess I have too much self respect. Now I have done things for a laugh in public, but that's another story for another post.

While checking out the weird news on Yahoo, I came across this story about a couple fighting yesterday in New York. This guy was on the roof of the car his girlfriend was driving. The road they're on is packed with cars, of course. Anyway, while she's banging into cars here and there, her boyfriend is busy punching a hole through the windshield to get at her head. Now.... that's embarrassing. Heh heh. During her game of highway pinball, the girlfriend gets a surprise. The air bag blows up in her face. She finally stops the car. The boyfriend sails off the car top and lands on the highway. She rips the airbag out, gets out of the vehicle and proceeds to hit the boyfriend with the airbag until the cops come to the scene. Lucky them.

Here's another story. This took place in Tennessee. Isn't that the "Show Me" state? Hell, I don't know. But it seems this couple were trying to show something. Maybe their lack of self-respect.... or their asses.

A couple that began squabbling in a motel room Friday morning carried their dispute over to an adjacent Waffle House restaurant in the nude, police said.
The woman, who was not identified, told officers she was staying in a room with Larry Boyd when he took a hit of cocaine, started trashing their room and choked her.

She ran in the buff to the nearby restaurant and locked herself in the bathroom. Boyd, also naked, followed her into the restaurant and then fled in a car.
He was arrested — still naked — after a short chase by police and was charged with driving under the influence and felony evading arrest, among other charges. It was not immediately clear whether he had an attorney.

All around this wacky world, you can hear, read or see cases like these and it makes you wonder why people display this behaviour. For attention?

If you've ever had the accident of seeing the Jerry Springer Show, then you'll see a whole circus of people yelling, finger pointing and pulling hair on national television. Jerry's "freak show" regularly displays people practicing bad behaviour. The type of folks he welcomes on his show seem to enjoy the attention. They must be very insecure, lonely and out of their minds-not to mention ignorant.

If you have any theories about this subject, let me in on them. Frankly, I don't get it.