Musings, Memories and The Final Curtain For Psycho Carnival

Weeeeeeeeeee!

Well gang,

As the title implies, this will be the last post for my blog of 6 years, Psycho Carnival.  I want to thank everyone who has continuously followed the blog in the past and present.  Even those who have checked in, time to time, I appreciate the support. Speaking of support, I want to thank good friends like Gary, Static, Lilpixi, Bazza, Dixie and so many others, that it would take me forever to mention here, who have supported me through the good, bad, wild and crazy times while I've created posts on the blog. I really appreciate all of you and those I haven't mentioned.  Hopefully, you'll know who I'm referring to because I've visited your great blogs in the past and present.  You can look at my blogroll for all others who have interacted with me on the Internet, on their blogs or elsewhere, too.

I've always been strangely attracted to odd stories and images.  This goes for my preference in people, as well.  For me, there is almost no more of a heinous crime than to be boring- whether it's in a blog, in a social network like Facebook or in real life.

I've seen a lot of blogs come and go on the Internet throughout my six years doing this.  I've seen some really good ones stop posting and it has made me sad to see them drop off the radar in blogland. I get attached to people I really like.  I'm that way with my offline friends, too. I think and I've read, too, where something dramatic will happen and they'll stop doing their blog(s) .  The reasons they stop posting vary, of course.  Could be a job that takes most of their time. Could be a death in the family.  Could be, like in my case, total burnout from blogging.  That's not to say I haven't enjoyed everyone's blogs that I've visited and commented on (or should I say rambled, endlessly, on?)  And that's not to say I haven't enjoyed posting on my own blog, either, in the past.  I'm just totally burned out on the whole blogging business.

Mine has always been a variety type blog.  A lot of fictional stories.  True stories.  Some humorous subjects here.  Some serious topics there.  And some, maybe most, really, are a mix of emotions and topics of anything you can imagine or stuff that is unimaginable for you.  One thing I've always been, however, is honest.  I don't put on a superficial facade when I write.  It has always been from the heart and I usually let you know when I'm just joking if I'm making something up. And I've always leaned more toward, in favor and comments, those who are similar, in some ways, to my own blog when it comes to variety, humor and honesty.

Some folks who fake it could use a shitload of  the ol' "facing reality" kind of therapy.  Yep.   But I won't rant about that for a change.  LOL.  

This is my 500th post, by the way.  A milestone.  I enjoyed the journey, which this blog has been for me.  I've also regarded this blog as being very therapeutic in letting me get things off my chest.

While being in the blog biz, I hope I've helped others with my past humorous, depressing, wise or somewhat inspiring true stories. That goes for when I've commented on your blogs, too.

I also hope you appreciate the following images. Some are political.  Some I found to be funny, for whatever reason.  Some you might not understand.  I"m kind of complicated that way.  LOL.  I'm certainly no Simple Jack.  Or am I?  :)

The last two I find particularly humorous because you see a lot of that sort of thing (dramatic bullshit and endless arguing) on the Internet, in general, and on some blogs I've visited.  I never could understand that type of unrewarding, trivial thinking on the parts of the players who participate in that stuff.  But, heck no, I won't rant about that.  I never rant. And I'm never sarcastic, either.  Hahaha.... and so on.

I trust you've all gotten most of what I've tried to express in the past and enjoyed whatever it was I presented in words and images.  It's been a privilege in getting to know you.  I've certainly enjoyed commenting back and forth and exchanging ideas, jokes and viewpoints.

Who knows?  Someday, I might blog again.  It just won't be here and it will be, if it happens in the future, in a different style, for certain.  I'll let you know if I return to the scene.

Also, I plan on writing a book (I've had this plot-line for one rattling around in my head for decades now) as soon as I catch up on books that I've had lying around, never read and fixing things around the place.  The book I plan on writing will be fictional and incorporate some serious, humorous and surprising elements (especially for those who have read my stuff here).

If you want to "friend me" on Facebook, Google+ or if you want email me, let me know.  I'll give you the information so we can remain in contact and continue to interact.  I'd very much like that.  My Facebook page is a lot like my blog.  You won't see many goofy, cutesy pics of kittens or some similar shit like that... that often.  Most of the time, it will be humorous pics I put on my timeline or some serious stuff.  It's a mix.

In closing, I'd just like to thank all the people who have visited, commented on my posts and interacted with me on the net for all these years.  I consider you my friends.  Remember that! If you need my support, a laugh or anything that is possible for me to give, I'm there for you.  Goodbye... for now.  Any comments you make in the comment section, I'll respond to ASAP. I'll be making one last visit to all of your blogs, as well.  Take care!

Aloha and mahalo! 

The Apocalyptic Holiday Parade

If you're unfamiliar with some of the characters that have been featured on this blog before or you just want to reacquaint yourself with them again to better understand the following heartwarming holiday story, just click on the following links and enjoy!

For another story about the mysterious Intenso, click here:

The Incident at St. Mary's

For stories regarding Asmodeus, click any of the following links:

Auditions For The Circus
Second Round of Auditions For The Circus
Asmodeus' Astounding Circus

For lovely adventures involving Toadie, click any of these links:

Toadie in "Happy Anniversary"
Toadie in "Road Rage Spectacular"
Toadie in "First Love"
Toadie in "The Christmas Trip" (Part One)
Toadie in "The Christmas Trip" (Part Two)
Toadie in "The Haunted Bordello" (Part One)
Toadie in "The Haunted Bordello" (Part Two)
Toadie in "The Haunted Bordello" (The Final Chapter)

And now, the final story involving all of these wonderful, fairy tale like characters.  

Brandon and his family are at his house, enjoying video games, talking about the economy and pulling food from bags.  The family pet is also busy, in the corner of the living room, licking his pecker like a lollipop.

Brandon just came from the grocery store with his Dad, Mom and dog, Skipper.  Then he, while putting a jar of peanut butter on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet, heard what he thought was a marching band, just down the street.  Curious as to why there would be one, especially on this day, around Christmastime,
the twenty one year old man went outside the door, turned and saw what was coming his way.  Behind what was coming his way, was a cloud.

This was no ordinary cloud.  The was unique.  It was a deep crimson red cloud that was raining blood from it.  Hot blood spattered the ground and street below, erupting from the cloud in wave after wave.  Steam rose up from the asphalt of the ground and soon, even from where Brandon stood, he saw the blood was eating away the street as if it were acid.  Even the ground beneath what was once road was eroding into nothingness, leaving a wide trough of burnt dirt.

This cloud crackled with a horrifying sound that Brandon thought was a raucous mix of laughter and thunder. It scared away almost all of the animals. Dismembered body parts rained down from this cloud.  Detached heads busted open on the eroding, steaming street.  Arms, legs, torsos followed.

Trumpets made an earsplitting noise in the air.  At the front of the parade, sat the demon, Asmodeus.  The demon was sitting on a throne being carried by men, writhing in agony.  Asmodeus' tongue flicked out of his mouth.  He began laughing.   Intenso was by his side, laughing, while the band played a warped tune that began to make people come out of their houses, screaming.  While screams of laughter and pain filled the air, Intenso saw neighbors staggering out of their houses.

Brandon could see the neighbors' faces then.

The neighbors watched, filled with terror, as some of the participants of the parade were wearing the blood and dead skin of other humans.  Others had simply painted their naked bodies with odd human expressions and symbolism.

Dressed in black, the mysterious Intenso twisted his wrist, suddenly, and through sheer mind control, made the neighbors tackle each other to the ground and fuck like wild dogs.  Afterwards, they forced tree limbs into each other's butt holes.  They both howled and bled, profusely.  They wouldn't stop until they had torn each others assholes apart and bled out, almost completely.

"Tree huggers," muttered Intenso.

A neighbor dog ran up to one of the fat naked corpses on the lawn.  Blood was forming in large puddles around him and his wife.  They had just gotten finished with reading the local paper and suddenly found themselves in the front of their houses, fucking each other with long tree limbs.  The husband was struggling to breathe.  Abruptly, a huge dog, named Pippy, sprinted toward the man and tore out a piece of the man's gaping butt.  The dog, under the spell of Intenso, then ran across the yard, growling, with a slimy chunk of the man's colon in his canine jaws.  The man watched the dog run away with a meaty bit part of his colon, screamed loudly and futilely, then shit himself in a funny sort of way, before breathing one last time.

Intenso skipped forward a bit and began to sang, gleefully...

"Oh, Susannah
Oh don't you cry for me
For I come from Alabama
With a banjo on my knee."

He then turned to the lesbian couple and twisted his wrist again.  "Think you could "munch some carpet" for me?"

One of the women shuddered, seeing what chaotic, violent acts he had made the other neighbors perform.  Still, one of them stepped forward, bravely and said, "You can go fuck yourself."

Intenso smiled and then replied, while twisting his wrist back again, "What you will do for me is going to give me such a hard on."

It wasn't long before the women, under the spell of the maniacal Intenso, stripped off their clothing and began to push each other to the ground.  The smaller one hit the taller of the two in the face, knocking her out.  She took out a small pocketknife and was about to carve up her lover before Intenso decided their deaths would be more humorous if he tried his next trick.  Intenso curled his finger, forcing his supernatural powers to overwhelm the woman with the knife with thoughts that were more sinister than the ones she had before.

Everyone who witnessed what happened with the women began retching, violently.  Skipper the dog, ran out of Brandon's house and enthusiastically chowed down on the steaming piles of vomit.

Towards the front of the parade were baton twirlers, swinging human femurs into the air above and catching them as they came back down.  Blood poured out of their sockets in their heads where they once had eyes.  Their nude, emaciated bodies contorted, every so often, repulsing everyone watching them.  Their ribs would sometimes rip through their thin flesh, with blood spilling down their bodies.  They no longer had the will or strength to scream.

A huge balloon animal was pulled along in the line of the parade.  Even those that were lying on the ground, suffering from torment, looked at the plastic object and chuckled.

People heard Intenso, skipping along, cheerfully singing...

"I had a dream the other night
When everything was still
I dreamed I saw Susannah
A-coming down the hill."

By this time, everyone was out of the neighborhood's houses and apartments, in awe, of course, of the evil, disgusting spectacle being played out in front of them.  When a few people tried running back into their dwellings or attempted using any of their electronic devices, they were instantly incinerated by the power of Asmodeus.

When one man was almost able to reach his cell phone, about to dial the emergency numbers, Asmodeus raised his butt cheek, from where he sat, cut a huge fart towards the man and burnt his victim's off of his shoulders.

Women in strange green clothing, sat on the shoulders of merry men, while the muscular men had deeply planted their hands, then arms in the women's vaginae.  The women, oddly enough, wouldn't scream and only smiled to the passerby.  Some even waved, as if they were on a normal parade float.  Their minds, obviously, had been taken away long ago.

Brandon screamed at the living nightmare all around him.  Body parts were everywhere.  People were torturing and raping each other.  Scenes, too horrific to describe, froze Brandon where he stood. At this point, the marching band stopped playing.

Asmodeus, the demon, raised his clawed hand, signing to all the rest who were involved in the parade, to halt at his command.  With his other clawed hand, he had been munching on a woman's detached boob.  Quickly, he tossed the rubbery nipple off to the side like a discarded, half-eaten gummy bear.  The demon stared at Brandon, angrily and soon the young man was feeling himself slowly catch on fire.

___________

Four blocks down the road, Toadie and Valerie had just gotten married.  After several years of being together, making love and going on several adventures, they cemented their relation by making their love official and on paper.  They came out of the little church, full of happiness, ready to begin their lives as husband and wife.

When the newlyweds looked down the road at the carnage and the macabre parade, the mentally challenged man shouted, "Toadie is hungry for wedding cake!"

Then he farted.

Valerie looked at him, lovingly and held his hand, proud of her new husband.

Asmodeus turned his attention toward Toadie and instantly, Brandon's body ceased catching on fire.  His parents came running up to their son and extinguished little flames on his shirt and pants with their jackets.

In less than a second, Asmodeus was staring down at Toadie, sneering at the apparent fool.

Toadie looked up and giggled at the smoldering red behemoth.

Asmodeus snapped his fingers, without warning and caused Valerie to bleed out of her ears and nose.  Streams of blood ran down her face as she cried out.

Toadie stopped giggling.

Toadie cocked his head to the side.  Intenso ran over to see what the hold up was about, regarding the parade.  He thought everyone was having a good time, so far.

Intenso looked at Toadie and the demon standing toward each other, shrugged and to break the tension, the man cloaked in black garments began to sing...

"Old McDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O.
And on that farm he had some chickens, E-I-E-I-O.
With a..."

Intenso couldn't sing the rest of his verse because Toadie had quickly crushed the supernatural being's trachea and shattered his voice box with his right hand.  Intenso grabbed his pulverized throat with both hands, confused and unable to understand Toadie's surprising surge of strength.

Before Asmodeus could take any action, Toadie, with lightning speed, pierced Asmodeus' chest and pulled out the demon's black heart.  Asmodeus slumped to the ground.  Valerie, in that instant, stopped bleeding.

Skipper the dog ran up to Intenso and bit through his scrotum, causing Intenso to wail.  The dog shook his head, aggressively, clamping his jaws down on Intenso's nutsack.  Soon, Intenso's genitals were being escorted off the property by Skipper the dog.  The testes of the mysterious being slipped out of the dog's slobbering mouth and hit the ground.

The cloud behind the parade cleared up.  No more blood rained down.  No more body parts.  The sun came out and the street that was there once before began to reappear again.  People who had once died or were hurt, stood up, healthier than they were before the parade.

The stout, broad shouldered Toadie looked down at Asmodeus and said, "You're no different than any other tyrant.  You feed off of the fear of others.  You either secretly or not so secretly crave attention, fear and adulation from as many obedient people or sheep as you can gather.  If more folks like me took a stand and realized they had capabilities they didn't know they had before and were willing to stand up to pieces of shit like you, you wouldn't exist in the first place.  Love, courage and people using their minds for the greater good will ultimately defeat beings like you.  Oh... and one more thing."

Asmodeus was gasping for breath.  Toadie turned around, pulled down the pants of his tuxedo and farted directly into the demon's face.  Asmodeus coughed, choking on his own retched vomit.  The green, toxic gas ate the demon's flesh off of his face.  The demon's eyes bulged and melted away. Soon, the demon no longer existed in this realm.

Toadie threw the demon's heart high into the air.  Skipper caught it with his powerful jaws and burst the organ in his mouth.

Suddenly, those involved in the parade disappeared, completely.  There were no signs that anything had transpired during the last few hours.

Toadie looked at Brandon and said, "Nothing should be assumed.  That especially includes anything that breathes.  Strange, evil beings, such as the one you confronted, are different, in how they appear and the tricks they can pull off- but that is really the only difference between them and the puppet leaders and ruthless dictators of the world.  Sometimes, regretfully, you have to resort to violence as a last resort with these fuck wads or they will continue their reign of terror and their often successful campaign of fear-mongering."

After this was said, Toadie took Valerie up in his arms and took off in their white rented limo, toward the reception hall.  This would begin a new exciting chapter in their lives.  Together, in spirit and love, they would spend the rest of their lives, making each other as happy as possible.

At the reception hall, everyone drank bourbon, rum and tequila, singing and dancing.  Later, old friends would tell their same old favorite stories, smoked copious amounts of marijuana and had a terrific evening of fun and revelry.  It was an evening of celebration and also a time to reflect on what they could all do to improve themselves and the state of the world.

Everything, miraculously, had been set right again in the land.    

New Awards and Predictions

Awhile back, blog author, Gary Phillip Pennick, of his blog, Klahanie, gave me and much more other worthy recipients two awards.  One is called the Fabulous Blog Ribbon Award and the other is the One Lovely Blog Award.  I'm finally getting around to giving him a proper thank you and doing a blog post about it.

Gary, himself, rightfully earned and received these two awards and gracefully bestowed them upon six other blog authors besides sweet lil' ol' me.  I would like to acknowledge his generosity by mentioning these awards and pass them along to other blogs I admire and have enjoyed:

1. Pickleope
2. Happyendings- Confessions of An Erotic Masseuse
3. DCRelief
4. The Angry Lurker
5. Angry Clown
6. Homeless in Seattle
7. In Search of a Russian Oligarch

Be sure to check out the great blogs above and tell them Kelly, of Psycho Carnival, sent ya!  Sure, they may be confused by this, but fuck it, do it, anyway... just because I said so.  

The rules that accompany these awards state that the recipients of the awards are "encouraged" to pass along or forward one or both awards to 7 other recipients.  You're also supposed to mention five fantastic moments in your life.  Well, as you know, probably by now, I'm not much of a follower of rules or polite etiquette of any type.  But I did want to pass along the awards to those I deem worthy of receiving them.  Those blogs and their authors don't need to feel obligated to relate five great moments in their life, unless they so desire to.  Nor are they obligated, at least in my opinion, to put the award(s) on their site or say who gave them the awards.  Gosh, it's not like I'm a glutton for ego-maniacal gratitude or something.  No way... no how.

Also:  Since my next post, I had already decided, was going to relate to things pertaining to me, more personally, and some of my unique opinions on different topics, I've decided to skip the "great moments" list at the time.

But I would like to share my predictions for the coming years of our existence as a species, in the absence of this list.  I know that the big ol' Mayan prediction and other predictions, foretelling the the chaos and/or substantial change in the human race for the date of December 21st, 2012 is kinda on the minds of people these days.  Personally, I think, on that date, we may see some people getting "all nutty" about that particular day since it has been so hyped up in the media, that they might just cause riots here and there, causing, in turn, some needless trouble and pain for people just trying to get on with their lives as if it were another day.  Which, it might turn out to be the case.  Just another day, I mean.

But here, before you, are my TRUE PREDICTIONS for what will absolutely happen in the years to come.  I'm providing you with these life altering predictions because I CARE A LOT.  Yep.  For sure.  Here ya go:

* Sometime in the near future, corporations and people around the world will endeavor to stop polluting this planet we inhabit.  The Arctic ice will cease melting.  Temperatures and climate will become stable.  Wars over fossil fuels, power and land will no longer continue.  Rainbows will appear out of nowhere and unicorns will dance among the children.  Strangers, holding hands, will suddenly burst into heartwarming songs and share an overwhelming feeling of peace and goodwill towards one another.  And the homeless will be welcomed everywhere and given shelter, loving care and food.  Not long, after these events occur, I will shit gold to share with each and every one of you.  It's true!  Just like everything else I said.  Yep.

* Movies will have involving and interesting plot lines.  Gone are the flicks that satiate a mindless public.  People will actually crave more original and fascinating entertainment than ever before.  Oh yeah, baby.

* Mitt Romney will become president of the United States.  The economy will drastically improve.  The middle class will be sustained and prosper.  People across the country will, simultaneously, eat healthier food. The elderly will be given better healthcare and respect. Education will become an all important issue, will be improved upon and every child will learn and grow to be a fine, upstanding citizen.  Animals, that were once on the endangered species list, will come back and flourish and multiply around the world.  The mentally challenged will suddenly take flight, using their arms as wings and delight us all with their colorful, enchanting antics by colliding into bridges and mountains.  Because of this spectacle, a few individuals will giggle until they fart.  But then...  A large hairy ape will descend from the heavens above and let loose with a powerful stream of piss that will shower the world with luminous, wondrous magic.  All true.  Every word.  Count on it!

* Old diseases like Cancer and Diabetes will be cured by researchers for big pharmaceutical companies because, after all, they care only about eliminating the diseases, altogether.  Never are they even slightly interested in making profits off of people like you and I by selling pills and such to treat the symptoms.  Heck no.  I'd say, in about a year, all those horrendous diseases that have been around for decades and centuries will be a thing of the past.  Nothing to worry about.  Just put your mind at ease and think of butterflies fluttering about the flowers of life.

* Racism and gender equality will be eagerly talked about.  Soon, everyone will be accepted for who they are and who they wish to copulate with and love.  Trees will learn sign language, too.

* Cars, trucks, planes, ships and tricycles, even, will be powered by a completely unique form of endless, profitless energy.  Corporate and government scientists, after working diligently on creating this free energy that corporations won't care to profit from, will be shown gratitude by all the world's population because people will suddenly be grateful for the good things offered to them and will gleefully projectile vomit on these learned geniuses by way of reward for their years of long, hard work.  There will be such an atmosphere of absolute positivism, that leprechauns, minotaurs and Ewoks will erupt from the ground to spray forth load after creamy load of jism upon the people.  People will happily gobble it all up like hungry maggots and instantly become more strongererer and smarterererr and erererer.  Henceforth, this day of celebration will be officially known as Merry Spooge Day.

That's all I have for now.  So, once again, just put your mind at ease.  The human race will be just fine.  We're evolving into something great and wonderful.  Yes, indeed.  We're certainly not devolving into societies of war-mongering, hateful, polluting assholes who don't give a real shit about what we do to each other, the animals and the planet's atmosphere.  So... yeah.  Feel free to throw caution to the wind and smile, smile and smile some more.  Our future as a species is looking just fine and as promising as ever.

Have a dandy day, one and all!   

Inclement Weather and Inclement People

I know.  It's like I'm only barely eking out one damned post a month.  Let's just say I've been keeping busy and worrying a lot about personal problems going on in my life and leave it at that.  But then, what else is new, eh?  Would I like to say things are semi-fine or halfway tolerable?  Yep.  I sure would.  You may think me a pessimist or call me an alarmist but, really, I honestly try to bring harmony in my little part of world only have it it crushed, pulverized and throw back in my face like a messy, sticky wad of pre-chewed Goobers.

This is going to have to be one of those times where I don't reveal what's happening in my personal life right now.  To recall it and write it in any kind of half-attempted detail here would only send me to the Community Mental Health Center.  Let's put it this way: I almost checked myself into such a place, yesterday and people who don't suffer from severe anxiety disorder or depression might have had the same thought cross their minds if they had gone through what I've gone through this week.  It's enough to make you (actually me) wish that The Grand Joke of Life that sometimes plagues the continuously unfortunate would just take a big ol' hammer, whack one in the head and get it over with.  Ha. Ha.  Gosh, I'm quite the kidder.  Let's just say that and move on, shall we?

Speaking of Goobers... Look!  There's Goober!  He's with Andy!  I wonder what tune Andy was playing?  It was probably something lighthearted and something that made sense.  Kind of like the opposite behavior of the people we have running around the world today.  Btw, Andy Griffith died not too long ago.  Don't ask me about Goober, though.  I don't know if he's down in the dirt and food for maggots or what. The last I heard, he joined a circus that was demon- owned that had crazed clown midgets and hell hounds running the show.   Hey, that reminds me of a story I wrote about a month ago!  How about that?  

But anyway...

I will say that the only reason I'm able to write this post is because the temperature has gone down to a nearly tolerable level in this part of the apartment and I rigged a gate, an old window screen, to be exact, to keep the new kitten from jumping around and eating my electrical wiring.  Plus, some of the problems that were taking hold of my sanity have quelled enough to a point where I can put a sentence together with my keyboard without foaming at the mouth and pissing my pants.

Damn.  People are getting are crazier by the day.  Every once in awhile, I'll create some crazy assed story  or comment on some crazy assed piece of news that's going on in the world but I tell you what, folks.  The true life stories that are going on these days put my own fictional or incredibly real tales to shame, or at the very least, seem lame by comparison.

The whack job that went into the Colorado Theater and shot 71 people, wearing a costume or something, while everyone was attempting to watch the new Batman flick is just one of many signs this country is plain nutty.  I would say he's inclement.  You never hear that word, describing insane or unfeeling people much, but I'd say it's time for a new word to describe cruel or apathetic people.  People use this word to describe the weather these days but I would cheerfully give up this word to be associated with this fucker.

Insanity and cruelty must be bliss- for this guy.  His creepy-as-fuck smile says a lot.    

Speaking of inclement weather... what's going on here?  Non-stop floods and rain in the United Kingdom and over here, in the U.S., we have severe droughts and non-stop 100 degree temperatures nearly every day.  In other parts of the world, they're having "opposite weather" of what they're supposed to be having this time of year, as well.  And it's all being dealt out in heavy doses, causing anguish upon almost everyone that I've interacted with or read about. It's like the weather is mimicking the world's fucked up economy, violent state and it's loony people.  Or it's the other way around.

And let's not forget the cannibal dude who ate the homeless man's face, either, awhile back.  This guy didn't even stop eating this poor man's face as he was being shot and told not to eat the victim's face.

You would think that maybe the guy on the right was...uh....  kinda nutty.  Nope, it's the guy on the left that eats human flesh.  Whatever you do, don't hunt for the picture on the net, provided you haven't seen it, already, of the homeless guy's "face" after the cannibal dude gobbled most of it up like a kid at the fair with a stick full of cotton candy.   Or a handful of Goobers.  That picture of the homeless guy, after the cannibals handiwork, had me close to puking.  And that, my friends, is pretty bad if you can make me sick.

Personally, I don't understand it all.  The fucked up economy, the crazy people, the inclement weather, thinly veiled wars that are actually about greed and power, the messed up priorities of politicians and inclement DICKtators around the world and everything else I'm leaving out- but I'm sure you've seen on the Internet, newspapers or TV- it's really oddly coincidental that it's happening in such a short span of time.

George Carlin was a very wise, witty and humorous comedian and author.  R.I.P.  He's one of my heroes, actually, along with Kurt Vonnegut.  They really understood human nature.  They weren't shy about speaking their minds and being honest and direct.  Those are characteristics I mentally applaud about people who unabashedly exhibit them.  I hold both of the mentioned authors, who were realists and humorists, in very high regard.  I'm rather proud to say I own all of George's albums and books and I can say that I own most of the masterpieces that Kurt Vonnegut penned during his life.

My point is, is that George said, more than once, "When you're born you get a ticket to the freak show.  When you're born in America, you get a front row seat."  Wow.  The more time passes during my own era, the more truer and relevant that becomes, George.  And it seems the rest of the world is trying to shake off the fleas (the humans) more so than usual with rampant floods, death-bearing heat, earthquakes and so on.



I truly feel for the victims of those who have been shot and killed in senseless shootings, wars and so on.  I also feel for those living in poverty, never knowing a life where food is plentiful and healthcare is there to benefit them.

I guess when there are people that still feel and aren't apathetic to those around them, there is still hope.  There are days when I try to hold tight to that idea.  Some days, it's harder to do that than others.  But let's all try!  And let's all try to be better human beings and feel something humane for our own species.  At this rate, I have to admit, it feels as though we're quickly spiraling down the drain of history. 

Absentee Blogger, Super Blogger, Dumbass Commenter and Unsolicited Advice

Absentee Blogger


That's how I'd best describe myself these days.  I think the last time I posted anything on the blog was about the middle of last month.  I'm reminded of that line from Al Pacino from one of his movies.  I know I won't get it right and I'm too lazy to look it up but it went something like... "No matter how hard I try to get away, they keep pulling me back in."

Feel free to correct me on that or tell me the movie reference as I know somebody reading this probably will.  That is, if somebody took the six to ten seconds to read the first paragraph.  More on that topic later.

Absentee Bloggers will usually go on temporary or permanent absences away from their blogs because of all types of situations.  Deaths in the family.  A project at work.  Having a real job, in general.  Responsibilities.  Vacations.  Unhealthy children.  Or, yes... even having a real life that sometimes keeps you away from your fucking hobby-  Which what blogging is... it's only a hobby folks.  Sometimes, it's a bit of self therapy.  Sometimes, it's you wanting to educate or entertain the strangers out there online.  But, in the end, it's just a hobby.  If you think it's anything more than that, here's your straitjacket!  Do not pass GO.  Instead, check yourself into the mental institution, you hopelessly addicted fucker.  Or seek psychological help of some kind.  I did and it certainly helped me.  Seeeeeeeeee????  :)  And the lopsided smiley face makes it all okay, huh?  

Yes, I know.  My goddamn keyboard is dusty as fuck.  Desk tray is, as well, I know.  Don't care, though.   You may "advise" me to get one of those cans of compressed air or one of those crazy American Republican  presidential wannabes to use their hot air to blow the dust away.  On second thought... no thanks on that idea.  They're all so flagrantly stupid, they would probably just slobber on my keyboard, making a bigger mess than a dude that's heavily addicted to Internet porn- if you catch my drift.  Hope I'm not being my usual subtle self.  :)  You'll note that I have a portable phone that's always nearby or stuck up my ass whenever the next personal or family emergency arises.  Which it will.

Remember:  If you feel absolutely compelled to post something each and every fucking day, you may be a Super Duper Dumbass Blogger (see topic below, later) that needs professional help, not to mention any type of responsibility and/or a goddamn job.

In reference to the previous "pulling me back" quote, the last four weeks have claimed my last strand of sanity and my time.  During my absentee blogger time, I was hit with all manner of health scares stemming from my Dad's Vascular Dementia, his hospital stays where he fell down due to low blood pressure or something else, my wife's own health problems where I was meticulously wrapping her swollen legs up every day, my own insulin prescription crisis (I'm severely diabetic) and last, but certainly not least, my Dad wrecking his car into someone else.  That last incident was expected.  We warned the authorities for years.  We did what we could to prevent it.  Legal, persuasive and everything else kind of ways- beyond imagination.  Luckily, no one got hurt.  And, of course, that's what it took for the right people to finally take action.  A damn accident.

My sister and I could write entire thousand page novels on what we've had to go through the last six years since Dad accidentally left the car running in the basement, which in turn, poisoned my mom to death through the air vents upstairs.  It took me a long time before I could even talk about that.

By the way, Dad is living in an assisted living facility.  His second one.  It's nice.  Amazingly nice.  It's a I-want-to-live-there-when-I-can't-take-care-of-myself kind of nice.  The first one he was living at, well, that, in itself, is a 9 part miniseries, featuring dramatic manhunts, threats to staff from him, breaking rules and full on breakdowns on my part and my sister's end of it.  It wasn't a bad place either, but, things wouldn't stop happening.

NO SOLICITED ADVICE HERE, PLEASE!!!!!


Just in case I wasn't clear, I thought I'd helpfully add a few exclamation points above.  Wonderful of me, wasn't it? 

If you've never read my blog or haven't read about that saddest part of my life, click these links for only a small piece of the never ending saga:

Sorry If I've Caused Concern
Sorry If I've Caused Concern- Part 2 
Sorry If I've Caused Concern- Part 3

I made the mistake of saying a couple sentences about the difficulty of caring for Dad on Facebook and somebody gave me unsolicited advice, assuming that in the 6 years of dealing with his problems- which became our problems, that we had never attempted what he suggested before.  When I read his suggestion, I was only looking to spout off a little to get mild, brief relief on Fuckbook or whatever they call it, I laughed and freaked out just a little when I read the suggestion/assumption and I didn't communicate to the assuming person because I'm not into debating and this person, I knew, would debate and argue something until pigs learned to talk.  It certainly didn't help during "my little freak out" that I was extremely stressed from everything hitting me at once from my wife's problems to my own- which are the same if you get down to it.  When you're married, it's like that.  FYI.

Clue 1: One of the biggest mistakes you can make with me is assuming.  Don't do it!  I've had it done to me far too many times.  Also:  Don't fill in the blanks and tell lies just because you don't know the person or the situation.  Questions are welcomed as long as assumption aren't sneakily thrown in.  My motto has always been:  Always ask, Never assume. 

Clue 1.5:  Unsolicited advice is also a big no no with me, just in case I haven't mentioned that two or three hundred times during the 6 years this blog has been around.  If I ask for advice, only then you can give it to me.

Sometimes, believe it or not, people say shit to just get whatever is troubling them off of their chest or out of their minds for a bit of relief.  Imagine that!

Clue 2: Once I've made my point, I don't argue or debate about the topic any longer.  I might give you a couple paragraphs worth of words back and forth between you and I but that's about it.  And that's if I don't have anything better or more productive to do. In person, if you are errationally determined and choose to "win" the argument or "make your case" or "see the gray areas" (also known as 'splitting hairs', I believe) in everything I say, I will leave you standing, talking to yourself or getting zip for response from me.  Feel free to believe you've "won" the argument or debate when I don't return your brilliant comeback with another brilliant comeback.  It matters not to me.  And when you do it on the internet, I think you're an absolute fool for doing so.  I don't care if both "great debaters" become the best of pals at the end of their battle of words, charts, facts supporting their views that will change after the next day or whatever, it's idiotic.  Period.  Go.  Fuck.  Thyself.  The same goes double for Grammar Nazis.  Please... GET A FUCKING LIFE OR AT LEAST TRY TO ENGAGE IN ACTIVITIES OR RESPONSIBILITIES OUTSIDE OF THE INTERNET.  UNGLUE THY ASS FROM THY OFFICE OR COMPUTER CHAIR, FUCKWAD.  Oh, there goes my delightful subtle side of me exposing itself again.  I gotta watch that.

I'm sure you've seen this before... but have you actually read the words and let their meaning sink inside that big ol' human brain of yours.  Mentally handicapped people have my full respect.  They make people who argue and endlessly debate on the net look like deranged imbeciles that are deserving of being slowly trampled by a hyped up herd of people leaving a Disturbed concert.  I respect the hyped up concert folks more than the "great debaters", as well.  Crush on, dudes and dudettes!  

Anyway, during this last hiatus, I would have much preferred to being in this chair, happily blogging about shit people could laugh and/or think about instead of being imprisoned in endless health scare and moving issues.

Super Blogger

Speaking of irritating people, isn't it about time we got rid of these "Super Bloggers".  You know... these ego-maniacal assholes who need a gazillion fucking followers.  Don't get me wrong!  Or fucking assume!  I don't care how many followers you, I or the next person has but when they promote themselves to death by joining every site, blog and advertise... not to mention sell products bearing their website names, without a drop of true substantial content- it speaks volumes to me about what they're all about.  Superficiality and ego-boosting.  It's a cry for help.  No need to assume.  They flagrantly show IT, celebrate IT and glorify IT, themselves and their site.  Link dropping after every comment on someone's blog post is strategy in their strange game of potential profits or ego-boosting.  They want you to click their ads, buy their shit and follow them like the next messiah.  And if you're "lucky" you may get a comment from them on your own blog once a year.   Again, to those who engage in this self-serving practice... GO.  FUCK.  THYSELF.

If you go to my blog pal, Gary and his funny, observant blog, klahanie, you will see he has posted a bit on this subject, as well.  I advise you to check out his excellent, well written site, too.  Here's the link to the post I'm referring to here.

Did you see where I capitalized the words above where I called no one, in particular, a fuckwad?  I did that in the hopes that you would read those words- which brings me to...

Dumbass Commenter

The Dumbass Commenter excels in leaving comments that shows he, she or it did not read much or any of the post.  Maybe they looked for keywords, big words, bold type words or a tiny chunk of the post to comment on.  Maybe they briefly looked at the pretty or bizarre pictures.  Who knows?  Some will say, "Your site is good.  I follow.  My website is Blahblahblah."  You may call them spammers.  I call them imbeciles.  I say, if you're not interested in my post or someone else's, don't read it and attempt a lay a lame comment in the comment area.  Keep your "following me icon" and your shitty three word or lame comment to yourself.  Gary, of klahanie, also wrote his perspective on this subject.  Look here.  I have to admit.  It's more amusing than my somewhat cutthroat, yet still honest, perspective.  I also have to admit that I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy today, joyfully spreading good cheer to one and all.

Did I happen to mention I'm the King of Subtlety?  Or would that be a mere admirer, user or student of sarcasm or sardonic humor?  It's so hard to tell.

On the bright side, things are finally looking up a little.  No, I'm not talking about my penis becoming erect.  Not that far up.  I'm just saying that through all the bleakness, I see a tiny particle of light at the end of this long, dark, melancholy, jagged tunnel of misery.  Maybe, in a few more weeks, things will get even better.  It depends.

Have you read this far down?  Do you have ADHD?  Or is Lil' Puddin' bored that he or she didn't have a laugh-a-second post to read this time around?  If so... Gosh.  I care a lot.

I'm just kidding, folks.  It's all in good, well meaning fun.  Move along now.  See you or not see you next time I post a delightful story or raging diatribe.  Take care.  I love you.  Would you follow me?  I desperately need  that type of ego boost. Hahahahahahahahaha.  I'm okay. 

Things You Don't See Every Day

I remember the time my 70 year old boss dressed up like a Hostess Twinkie and shuffled about in front of the grocery store where I worked.  The adults that walked by, looked at him, bewildered.  It was hot enough to fry a bacon and turd sandwich that day.  The kids seemed to enjoy the show as they danced and laughed around him.  So gleeful were they, I thought they were going to take a bite out of his costume.

I didn't know who, exactly, was in that costume because I had just arrived for my shift that afternoon.  I figured it was one of the younger guys.  I thought this because this costume didn't look like the type that had a fan or any type of cooling system built inside like some costumes you see people wearing at amusement parks.  In fact, it looked handmade.  I didn't know an old guy was inside it.

Not long after doing his little promotional shuffle, entertaining the crowd, "The Boss Man" became tired.  When I walked into the stock room, he was in the middle of taking off his costume.  I was shocked to see that he was shirtless and he had his big ol' fat floppy old man boobies hangin' out while the rest of his torso was covered in a yellow foam material.  He was wearing a pair of little white boots, too.

I laughed to myself, imagining what the reactions of all would be if he were to walk outside the store like he was in his half-dressed present state.  Maybe he would boost Twinkie sales with some of the elderly, half- blind ladies in town.  Who knows?

Almost immediately, I turned and walked out the stock room door, sharing what I had just seen with a few other co-workers.  I'm nice that way.

Speaking of things you don't see every day...  

Remember those "Baby On Board" signs that were so prevalent a decade ago?

Dancing pig with no back legs.

Did he just tell a lie?

It looks like a delicate procedure.

He looks lost.  He should ask for directions.

You should watch this for something you really don't see much of these days.

Toadie in "Haunted Bordello" (Part 2)

Click right here, folks, in order to read the first part of this classic type of ultra fine and sophisticated American Literature so you can make sense of the whole story. I wouldn't want you to be "lost in the woods", so to speak. Or would I? Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha.

Upon closer inspection, the slightly mentally challenged Toadie realized the people in the old photograph were his great-great grandparents, Gregory McKelly and Donna Mae McKelly. Toadie remembered seeing similar photos of his great-great grandparents in a family album when he was a kid. His sweet Auntie Kay had told him that "his great-great grandparents were outlaws of the Old West and were fond of drinkin', raising a lil' hell and robbin' banks- but that they were beloved by many because of their good-natured sense of humor and the fact that they gave a lot of their money away."

While looking intently at the photo, the characters in the photo mysteriously began to move. Instead of his late grandfather pointing his gun upward, he was dropping his arm downward, allowing the gun to point to the side. Then, surprisingly, the photo began to change in varying colors. But what was most unnerving, was that the frame around the photo changed, as well, with the indented pattern in the wood, unraveling, curling into twisted flowers, then returning back into it's original form.

Toadie jumped back, tripping over an old brass spittoon and screamed. The photograph immediately returned to it's original state, which was followed by laughter echoing from the rooms upstairs. These were the same rooms where prostitutes cheerfully entertained patrons of the saloons by humping them until their semen had been thoroughly depleted from their scrotal sac.

Toadie stuttered a bit, expelled a long, awkward fart and finally was able to blurt out, "Toadie needs Valerie to come here!"

When Valerie joined him, Toadie explained what he had seen and that the people in the photograph were his great-great grandparents.

Startled, Valerie held Toadie tight and said, "That photo is remarkably clear for how old it is. It's like it was taken just a year ago."

Toadie said, nervously, "Toadie's afraid. Will you comfort Toadie by giving him head, please?"

Suddenly, a blonde haired woman, garbed in a black dress, was sitting on an old piano across the saloon. She had appeared from a gathering mist and, almost immediately, began to speak.

"If she doesn't suck the venom from your snake, Sugar Buns, I would be willing to give it a try."

Frozen with fright, Toadie and Valerie stared at the ghost, feeling helpless.

The ghost said, "The name's Annie and pleasure is my business."

She smiled, seductively and drifted over to where the engaged couple were standing.

Annie warned, "If you know what's good for you, you'll head on upstairs before "Bent Joe" Paulson comes in here. He doesn't like strangers in HIS TOWN."

Valerie paused anxiously, before inquiring, "Who's Bent Joe?"

The ghost circled around the brunette and whispered, "He's the most evil bastard you NEVER wanna lay eyes on, sweetie. He'll tear you apart, whether you want it or not."

Annie turned to Toadie and placed her cold hand on the crotch of his pants. Even though he was scared, Toadie still sported wood and drooled a bit. His "snake" drooled a bit, too.

Annie remarked, "Besides, if you two follow me upstairs, I promise you won't be bored." She giggled at that and gave Val a little peck on the cheek.

Without warning, the saloon doors were thrown open. A glowing orb passed through the entrance. It seemed to be burning with red flames. Annie, Val and Toadie could feel the hostility emanating from it.

"Time to go," warned Annie.

Toadie and Val quickly followed the ghost upstairs into one of the rooms. When they were inside, the old wooden door slammed shut.

Toadie and Valerie stared at each other, shaking. Toadie said, "Toadie doesn't see the hot blonde anymore."

Valerie gave him a stern look. "So you think she's hot, huh?"

Toadie pointed to his dick and said, "The penis doesn't lie." And then he laughed, scratched his ass and plopped onto the bed like a big sack of creamy, maggot-infested potatoes.

A few quiet moments passed until Valerie, aroused by the sight of Toadie's meaty totem pole, joined Toadie on the other side of the bed. She looked out the window and said, "Do you think we'll be okay in here for awhile?"

Toadie saw how the moonlight reflected on Valerie's face and allowed his gaze to travel down to the outline of her soft, firm breasts beneath her shirt. He imagined sucking on her tits and blowing his wad on them. But not vice versa, of course. Toadie would think that to be uncouth.

"Toadie loves you," said Toadie, "Toadie won't let anything happen to you."

Valerie leaned over, kissed her fiancee gently on the lips and complimented him. "You're so romantic, Toadie"

Toadie said, "Can Toadie fuck you in the ass now?"

No longer being able to hold herself back from the suave gentleman, Valerie took off her clothes. Toadie hurriedly removed his clothes, as well. Moments afterwards, the engaged couple were happily fornicating.

And then a mist appeared next to them. Annie made herself visible. Without asking if she could join in, she began rubbing Valerie's wet, glistening love button. At first, the ghost's hand was cold but then it quickly warmed up. Valerie moaned, realizing the ghost was back in their presence and was, nevertheless, enjoying her touch. Annie then turned her attention to Toadie, pulling his walloping prick from Valerie's wide open beaver gobbler and sucking it with terrific fervor.

Toadie shouted, "Hurrah!"

Further pleasures were exhibited and felt throughout the night. Bodily fluids were exchanged. Annie the ghost rode Toadie like a crazed, horny baboon. At one point, Valerie lapped at Annie's ghostly nips. And so on.

Abruptly, a fiery orb passed through the door and entered the room. Val, Toadie and Annie hadn't noticed. The orb slowly transformed into the spirit of "Bent Joe" Paulson. The cowboy was seething with rage as he shook his fists and screamed, "I'll teach you!"

Stay tuned for Part 3, the last chapter to this story, next time. Hope you have a great weekend!

A Happy Tale

If you haven't been paying attention Kelly has decided to open up his blog for some guest posting, and so here I am to add a splash of color to this little shenanigan. But before I start an introduction is in order. In case you don't know who I am my name is The Wolf........well not literally of course but that's my blog nickname or whatever the fuck they call it. My blog is called The S.N.A.F.U Report short for Situation Normal All Fucked Up a military term that I think fits my life very nicley.

Now Kelly here has some standards when it comes to his posts, they can be......well right the fuck out there which is fucking fantastic and I wouldn't have it any other way . Fortunately for you but unfortunately for me I have lived a very messed up existence in my short time on this planet. If you can conjure up in your heads something so fucked up it's hard to believe it's probably happened to me........hey at least it's never dull. So I figured what better topic to guest post about then a story from my fucked up existence. So sit back grab a soda and I shall tell you the tale of how I was almost mugged and possibly ass raped by two gay men. And no this is not bullshit this actually happened.

It was back in 2001, I was a private in the army and I had dropped off this girl a friend had set me up on for a blind date. Personally I wish I fucking knew beforehand because she was a troll, not in appearance but her attitude was fucking disgusting.....the kind that makes you want to stick someones face in a blender type of attitude. Anyways I dropped her off and was on my way back to the barracks. That's when I saw two guys standing near what looked like a broken down car. It was near midnight and being the helpful person that I am pulled up to see if the needed some help. Edmonton where I was posted pretty much shut down at 9 even on weekends and getting a tow truck would take all night.

As soon as I pulled up I had this feeling that something wasn't right, so instead of parking and turning off the engine I let it run and kept it in neutral, not sure how to describe it but I knew something was fucking shaddy about these two guys. I roll down my passenger window and asked if they needed help. They smiled and waved and walked over to me, each going on one side of my car. The guy on the drivers side the the gayest of gay lisp accents starts trying to chat me up. You know shit like how am I, how long I lived in town small talk shit like. Meanwhile his buddy on the passenger side had his hands against my mirror. My piece of shit car didn't have power windows so in order to close the window I would have had to reach over and crank the handle, and I knew if shit was going to go down this would be a bad move.

I ask them again if there car is broken down and need help trying to get fucker one (the guy on the drivers side) back on topic. Again he smiles, then he asks if I want to go with him and his friend into the gay bar for a drink. I didn't realize when I pulled in that I was in the parking lot beside one of the only gay bars in Edmonton, not that it matters to me but in redneck Alberta (Canada) it's still a fairly big deal, which is odd considering they now allow gay marriages....but that's a whole other topic.

I tell fucker one I'm not interested and have to report back to the base.........this is when shit gets interesting. While trying to get my attention with more small talk fucker number two starts to slowly move his hand inside the car towards the door handle (the doors were locked so he had to reach inside. As soon as I look the fucker in the eye, fucker one lunges for the other door while the other ass bandit reaches down to the door handle and opens the door. I punch fucker 1 in the face, slam the gear in reverse and hit the gas. Fucker 1 lets go almost immediately but his buddy is halfway inside, I also notice at this point fucker 2 has a knife.

I back out onto the street and start speeding down the road while at the same time getting my right leg over to kick this piece of shit in the face. Now if you've ever owned a 2000 Chev Cavalier like what I had this is fucking hard to do, the way the console is almost cocoons the driver and passenger........fuck I hated that car but it was cheap. I'm also by no means flexible but somehow while driving using one hand (my other hand was trying to gouge this assholes eye out with my thumb), I got my leg out and started kicking him in the face. After two or three well placed kicks to his nose he crumpled and rolled out of the car. I was going about 70 km/h at this point so when he fell out he flew into a nearby garbage can face first. I'm not sure if he was badly hurt or not, I never bothered to stop I just hit the gas and went back to the base as fast as I could.

If there's a lesson Iearned for this it's this. One don't ever fucking let your buddy who's idea of a good time is to go to the scummiest bar in town and hit on drunk desperate fat chicks. Two don't ever buy a Chev Cavalier, they don't make them anymore since about 2004 and were replaced with the Cobalt which is pretty much the same fucking car. And if you do get one of these get POWER FUCKING WINDOWS.....don't be cheap like me. And three take yoga or stretch more or something, trying to get my leg out to kick that asshole I ended up pulling my groin and it hurt for three days.

Well there you have it, my little misadventure.......and now for a video about Unicorns

Titillating Tales of WalMart

My wife has worked at WalMart for over 15 years and has seen the strangest and worst behavior from customers, employees (they call 'em "associates"- in order to make their employees feel more important, I think) and managers. I, myself, worked there for close to 3 years, at one point working with my wife at the same period of time, on 3rd shift. My wife now works on 1st shift.

In the past, on this blog, I've written about my own personal stories (don't ask on which post- I couldn't tell you) about some of the odd happenings at WalMart I experienced and the other night, while having my friend up, we got on the subject of the fucked up people we've encountered or heard about during our "working" life on the job. We discussed some of these hilarious, disturbing stories at length.

The following incidents are my wife's stories that took place while she has been working at WalMart:

Lady On The Prowl

One evening a woman came into WalMart, wearing only a flimsy, nearly transparent, red negligee and high heel shoes. Up and down the aisles, she walked, shaking her hips. She wasn't pushing a cart so the employees knew she likely wasn't shopping for anything WalMart had on their shelves. It was concluded that she was probably attempting to shop for a girl or guy to fuck.

Personally, I think WalMart would be a piss poor choice to go looking for love (lust), unless you want to "get busy" with a hillbilly or whatever. Either way, I think she was either out of her mind or on drugs or drunk. Not long after the cameras caught her struttin' her stuff and everyone else noticed her, that management called the cops and they escorted her out of the store.

Returned Items

A woman once bought a carpet shampooer, used it once and then brought back in the next day to the Customer Service desk. It wasn't broken, according to her. She just didn't want it. You could tell it had been used because the water/waste tank was full of dirty water and cat hair. WalMart took it back, oddly enough.

Another woman bought a Christmas tree a couple days before Christmas. The day after Christmas, she brought it back to Customer Service. It still had tinsel on it that she had put on. WalMart took that back, too. Hundreds of pairs of shoes have been brought back, sometimes four or five months after they had been bought, to the store. Many times they were dirty and some of the tread had been worn off. Of course, WalMart takes them back and puts all returned items in the Claims Department.

The worst stuff returned would be panties and underwear neatly folded and put back into the original packaging. It's apparent the undergarments have been used because the little bags they are in have been opened and- worse yet- plenty of dark brown skid marks have been found on them, later.

But the very worst time something was returned has to be during "The Big Summer Sausage Log Incident". A lady (although I'm not sure she could be described that way) came into WalMart, wishing to return a huge roll of summer sausage. She claimed she had a problem with it because it had "leaked meat juice" in her bed. The associates behind the Customer Service desk were shocked to see that the plastic wrapping on the 16 inch meat log had been peeled halfway down and it was covered with pubic hair. I jokingly asked if somebody suddenly grabbed it from her and started lickin' it like a lollipop. Anyway, management was called to the front of Customer Service about the sticky meat log and, sure enough, they took it back and refunded her money. All true, I'm afraid. I wonder if they put if back on the shelf with new wrapping. :)

Associates, Management and Customers Having Sex

Throughout the years, employees, customers and members of management have been caught having sex back in inventory rooms, men's handicap bathroom stalls, outside in the parking lot, beneath the light posts and even the dairy cooler. When they've been caught, they will sometimes stop fucking and fooling around. Sometimes, they won't.

Lingerie Department Episode

A crowd was found surrounding and staring in awe at a man on the floor in the women's lingerie department. He was fondling and sniffing a pair of new, unused, lacy panties with his one hand while vigorously pumping his one-eyed trouser snake with the other. The associates and management were called to the scene. A member of management called the police and they were on their way. Even as the man was told the cops were on the way, he wouldn't stop wanking his willy while sniffing the panties and so on. Even as the cops were about to put the handcuffs on the guy, he continued to jerk off, smiling the entire time.

No word on whether he was able to spurt his load before the cops got there.

Buzzing Noise

As you could probably guess by the title of this particular episode, it involves a vibrator.

A woman could be heard using a vibrator on herself in one of the women's fitting rooms in the clothing department at WalMart. The employees could hear a buzzing noise emanating from the small room and could see a pair of feet underneath the door. After demanding that the customer open the door and come out, she refused and continued masturbating. Finally, after a half hour, management told one of the employees to open the door. When they did, they saw a woman with her pants and panties down around her ankles. At that point, she finally stopped sliding the vibrator in and out of her pussy. She pulled it out and it was dripping, literally, all over the fitting room floor, according to the employees.

The police were called and she was taken away.

So yes, if you're looking for some of the world's finest freaks, you can find them at Wallyworld, folks. I hope you enjoyed the titillating tales as much as I have over the years. My wife and I continue to be astonished by the outrageous behavior people will engage in, in a public place such as this. Happy shopping, everyone!