Thursday, December 17, 2009

File Under: Outrageous! (Let's chat about sex, baby.)

SEDUCING FLOOZY OVER INSTANT MESSENGER.

     It's no lie that I've had relations with many beautiful women. I mean let us just put that down on the poker table for a lickity second. I have had lots of sexy, sexy-sex and I can tell you that I enjoy the fucking shit out of it! Also I'm
pretty sure my females are fond of it too. They always seem to fall bums-over-boobies for my charm and rock-hard abs and I don't want to blame them. Nor can I! I am one succulent piece of man-meat. I mean I am a real testosterone treat of Heston-al proportions and that's NOT just what my parents tell me. I tend to use my scorching sexuality to literally charm them out of their 7 jeans and Wicked Weasel sheer bikinis. (Neiman Marcus can suck it! Oh I bet he'd just love that.) 

     Everyone and their sexy grandma knows I'm a bonerfied twenty-five hour sex machine but sometimes I can't always charm and seduce 'on site' like I would prefer, ya' dig? There's nothing hotter than sidling up next to a pretty lady at a social function, firmly grasping the small of her trembling back, staring her down ruthlessly with my piercing soul and gently yelling in her face, "You smell of frankincense and corn-beef hash! And baby, them shits is getting me off!" At this point I'd try to whip out my petrified tree stump and place it in her hand. (Romance, yes!) And as much as they'd all love it, I can't physically enter all of my bottom bitches at once ... not until the surgery. (They can beg and plead all they want but that plane ticket to the 'North Korean Government Institute of Medicine and Tree Bark Consumption' isn't going buy itself. X-mas gift hint! *WINK*) 

     What follows is an ACTUAL interweb convo between the Grand Master-Orgazmer, (yours truly) and one of my latest sexy sexual conquests. BONUS POINTS: This particular vagina seems to be literate which is always a bonus because after we wet-hump she can co-sign on a used van loan for me. (My band needs to go on tour damnit! The Rusty Q-Tips must make Lollapalooza!)  

     Everyone at the high school is always asking me how I can bed so much fine tail while using so few "helper pills". It's simple, you need to captivate them. Make them feel special and romance the fucking crap out of them. Show them, (or in this case type to them) the romantic, daring man that she's been longing for and she'll show the sexy, mysterious, exotic woman that's deep inside her . Then if all goes well she'll show you her mysterious, exotic private parts where you can be inside! (Zinger.) 

 
Now, see how I use my master linguistics to leave her moist and wanting, (stolen joke). I hope you're all taking notes because this is how online seduction is done. And remember people, THIS WAS A REAL CONVERSATION!!!!

Karyn says: (10:26:11 PM)
i have no plans xmas day

Karyn says: (10:26:16 PM)
except me, xbox, 12 pack of beer

Karyn says: (10:26:22 PM)
and hopefully some bud

Jeff says: (10:26:29 PM)
i am there

Karyn says: (10:26:31 PM)
and im gonna drink and smoke my sorrows away

Jeff says: (10:26:31 PM)
lol

Karyn says: (10:26:37 PM)
no you'll be with your family yo

Jeff  says: (10:26:42 PM)
not ALL day

Karyn says: (10:26:46 PM)
OH?

Karyn says: (10:26:50 PM)
then you can come over xmas day :)

Jeff says: (10:26:56 PM)
of course

Jeff says: (10:27:00 PM)
like i said

Karyn says: (10:27:02 PM)
i love you so much.

Jeff says: (10:27:02 PM)
best xmas ever

Karyn says: (10:27:05 PM)
like

Karyn says: (10:27:05 PM)
love you

Jeff says: (10:27:13 PM)
hahaha we need to get married

Jeff says: (10:27:17 PM)
then we can rule the world

Karyn says: (10:27:31 PM)
but you cant satisfy me in ways that a woman needs to be satisfied.

Karyn says: (10:27:32 PM)
:)

Jeff says: (10:28:07 PM)
pfft whatever. You're just afriad of my raw power. haha.

Karyn says: (10:28:20 PM)
i sure am

Jeff says: (10:28:42 PM)
I named my balls Black and Decker. (seriously one of them is permanently black from frostbite.)

Jeff says: (10:29:11 PM)
it was featured in Scientific America

Jeff says: (10:29:24 PM)
2004, issue 11

Jeff says: (10:29:55 PM)
"December: Nature's Man-Neuterer" 

Jeff says: (10:31:15 PM)
It was in a center spread alongside a man who's scrotum was pierced by a polar bear's claw in Alaska and a boy who's penis was bitten off by a shopping mall Santa

Jeff says: (10:33:54 PM)
I remember it like it was yesterday

Jeff says: (10:34:05 PM)
That grey December morn

Jeff says: (10:34:28 PM)
Wendy ********* told me to rush over for sex and like a fool I believed her

Jeff says: (10:34:52 PM)
I had just hopped out of my homemade hot-tub when I received her telegram.

Karyn says: (10:35:40 PM)
you are ridiculous.  
Jeff says: (10:36:13 PM)
Telegrams take a very long time to come across the wire so naturally I was afraid if I took too long she may finish without me, (and she only wants to boff 3 times a year, max. When she gave birth to her two obnoxious babes it totally ruined her vaggg. It takes her a long time to get in the mood)

Jeff says: (10:36:46 PM)
So I made the decision to leave directly from my nude-tubbing therapy and run right over. I couldn't afford to miss another ovulation. 

Jeff says: (10:37:00 PM)
I ran and ran and ran, literally freezing my balls off

Jeff says: (10:37:09 PM)
and when I got there...

Jeff says: (10:37:14 PM)
I was too late.

Jeff says: (10:37:35 PM)
Big Ol' George answered the door wearing nothing but a loosely hanging robe

Jeff says: (10:37:54 PM)
He took one look at me and rushed my blue-balled ass (i know) inside

Jeff says: (10:38:39 PM)
He tried to smack his testes against mine to warm them, or at least bring the feeling back, (so he told me) but it was too late for little lefty.

Jeff says: (10:39:50 PM)
Wendy was satisfied for another financial quarter, George and I had bonded in ways I never thought we could, (they stuck together a few times like a child's tongue on a frozen tether-ball post) and my genitals were rendered frozen and useless.  

Jeff says: (10:40:09 PM)
But I couldn't give up

Karyn says: (10:40:15 PM)
bwahahaaha
Jeff says: (10:40:16 PM)
I had to get them working again


Karyn says: (10:40:21 PM)
can i post this on facebook and tag stephanie and pat?

Jeff says: (10:40:22 PM)
working together as a fucking TEAM



Karyn says: (10:40:22 PM)
srs ly

Jeff says: (10:40:29 PM)
like they were meant to

Karyn says: (10:40:32 PM)
hahahahahhaa

Karyn says: (10:40:33 PM)
:)

Jeff says: (10:40:33 PM)
righty-tighty was so lonely,

Jeff says: (10:41:05 PM)
I went through a strict nutritional and physical training regime.

Jeff says: (10:42:41 PM)
I would tie a large ankle weight to lefty with my now, dread-lock-like (i know) pubic mane. I would walk everywhere, two moderately paced steps forward and one excruciating fall backwards into an ocean of pain. All day every day. 

Jeff says: (10:43:25 PM)
I also trained my cat to stand on its hind legs and box with my ball like it was a little, black, pruney, speed-bag   


Jeff says: (10:44:38 PM)
I ate nothing but steel wool and strawberry churros for three years. Peeing was quite the ordeal as the wool always preferred to exit the hard way.  

Jeff says: (10:45:06 PM)
But now it's back, black and better than ever.


Jeff says: (10:45:14 PM)
I've formed a new bond with the cat

Jeff says: (10:45:38 PM)
and the steel wool trapped in my urethra has given me a perma-hard. 

Jeff says: (10:46:10 PM)
(I tape it down whenever we hang out so you don't go thinking you can actually arouse me or anything. I don't like to give false hope)

Jeff says: (10:46:28 PM)
So now I'm as great as I ever was

Jeff says: (10:47:48 PM)
two working balls, a steel-infused everlasting robot dick and a smooth black testicle that looks like a chunk of sapphire the size of an orange that's been cruising around in a rock tumbler for a few hundred tumble-cycles. 

Jeff says: (10:48:04 PM)
That's just me

Jeff says: (10:48:10 PM)
No more, no less

Jeff says: (10:48:17 PM)
Wendy better watch out come May

Jeff says: (10:48:35 PM)
'Cause Black, Decker and Everlasting Cock 3000 are waiting

Karyn says: (10:48:35 PM)
you are soooo awesome

Jeff says: (10:48:38 PM)
End scene 

Jeff says: (10:48:48 PM)
it's all true

Karyn says: (10:48:53 PM)
gonna get high with shane and micah

Jeff says: (10:48:59 PM)
yeah I'm hungry

Jeff says: (10:49:12 PM)
I think I'm going to publish this on my blog

Karyn says: (10:49:27 PM)
you should

Karyn says: (10:49:28 PM)
totally should

Karyn says: (10:49:30 PM)
gotta go

Karyn says: (10:49:32 PM)
:)

Jeff says: (10:49:35 PM)
And I'm not going to fix and spelling mistakes

Jeff says: (10:49:37 PM)
later!

Jeff says: (10:49:48 PM)
Oh no, here comes my cat

Jeff says: (10:49:53 PM)
he's got that look in his eye

Jeff says: (10:50:00 PM)
PEACE

Monday, November 30, 2009

Memours from a State Prism.


Keep and eye out for the words: "Correspondence" and "Shit-heel".
____________________________________________________________________

11/12/2009

Dear Jeffrey,

     These dreariful days go by like years on the inside. It's so hard trying to get by hour-by-hour knowing my mind is molting like hot bacon grease. Dripping away into a burnt-out pan that used to be my imagenation. For months the only thing keeping me going has been our corduroyspondence. These letters have kept my body and soul strong and for that I thank-you. But now I've got something else to look forward to! That's right friend, you guessed it. I've got a parade hearing scheduled for the end of the month and that means I'll get realized and finally get to see my special little girl! I've been going over and over in my mind exactly what I'm going to say and do to her when I first see her but I fear when the time comes I'll freeze up and just let my longing take over. It's her birthday soon. She'll be about 10 and a half when I get out and for the love of god I am not going to screw things up this time around.  I can assure you that I'm going to make sure the little bitch doesn't live to see her 11th year! She's going to pay.

     But enough about my troubles. How have you been? How did the big move go? Look at you, little guy in the big city! I was glad to get your letter the other day, it's been so long since you've written. I was about to start thinking you had forgotten me, but I know you're too good for that. I swear I'm not trying to butter you up but I need to ask a small favor. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing a letter of recommectadion on my behalf for the parole board? I know it seems like a lot vouchering for a guy you've never actually met but the 'Letters To Prisoners' programs are viewed as an important step in the reabilitation of big lugs like me and a good word from you would be really good for my case.

     That's about all I've got to report to you right now. The food still stinks here but overall rape is down which is good, (but with my amazing meat powers it never has been a problem for me). Warden Chalmers is still a complete shit-heel. Since I've been here he's had less need to eat his hats which is good news for him, I suppose. But as soon as I kill that little slut he's next. 

     Always nice to hear from you, buddy. Keep your fingers crossed that I get out! Maybe we can finally meat and hang out like I've talked about? Get up to some real trouble, eh?

Always and Forever,
'The Butcher'  
__________________________________________________________________

11/15/2009

Dear Wordgirl,

     My name is Jeff Williams. I'm 25 years old and recent college grad. Recently I moved to the big city and in my search for something meaningful to do with my time I decided to participate in a correspondence program where I write letters to a pen-pal in a correctional facility. People have always told me it's a nice thing to do as it really helps these men and woman out and I've been enjoying my conversations with these people very much but the other day I received some pretty strong warning signs from one of these men and I'm afraid it involves you.

     If you recall not too long ago you foiled the plans of the notorious Butcher during his daylight robbery of Ye Olde Fancy Schmancy Jewelry Store. Well He's recently been approved for a parole hearing at the end of this month and it seems that he's determined to play the part of a rehabilitated man in order to be released and harm YOU! I know you're young and I don't mean to frighten you but I just think it's something you should be aware of. Perhaps you can talk to your friend the Warden and let him know of the Butcher's plans? 

Thanks a lot for your time and keep up the good work cleaning up this town!

Sincerely, 

Jeff Williams 

P.S. I've enclosed a copy of the Butcher's letter for your further examination and records. 

____________________________________________________________________

11/25/2009

Jeff,

     What the fuck is wrong with you? Seriously dude. If you're a 'pen-pal' (gay) to those kiddy-diddling monsters in jail and one of them writes that he intends to defraud the judicial parole system and commit further serious crimes then YOU have a responsibility to take the evidence to the appropriate authorities. Don't just come whining to me. I mean how stupid can you really be? I'm a busy girl, I've got other shit to deal with! Why today alone I had to stop and army of giant robots from destroying the financial district, my monkey/sidekick had the super-craps like you wouldn't believe and I had to sit beside a smelly Mexican on the bus! I don't have the time or patience to sit down and deal with your pathetic bullshit. Are you trying to piss me off or are you just looking for attention? I can have you arrested just for sending me this letter, you know. How would it look to the authorities that you're keeping up secret correspondence with a ten-year-old girl, hmmm? Maybe I should just contact Police Commissioner Watson about this? Do you know what they do to child molesters on the inside??? 

Deal with your own problems shit-heel! Don't write here again. 

Beck... I mean Wordgirl

P.S. Your overall grammar is worth shit and for a college grad your vocabulary is frankly, non-existent. I hope you can find gainful employment at a car-wash or crack-house.   

-Dictated but not read- 

___________________________________________________________________

11/28/2009

Dear Sir/Madam;

My name is Jeff Williams  and I am writing this letter on behalf of my friend , The Butcher,(ID 396-21A). This letter is to ask that you vote positively to grant him parole when he appears before the Parole Board, on Nov 30th 2009.

I understand, and I will never forget, that The Butcher was sent to prison for committing crimes that will have lasting negative effects on the lives of many innocent people. I would never disrespect the seriousness of his behavior by offering an excuse to the board members. All I can say is that The Butcher  has worked very hard while he has been incarcerated to make himself a better person, deserving of another chance in society.

Should you decide to grant him parole, his family will be there to support, encourage and motivate him through a successful transition and progression into a positive member of society.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

Jeff Williams

_____________________________________________________________________________________

12/02/2009

     Dear Butcher,

     Congratulations on your recent release. Feel free to look me up if you need anything. In the meantime.... you know what you have to do. 

Have fun out there. 

Jeff

____________________________________________________________________

Will The Butcher finally find and destroy Becky B... I mean Wordgirl?

Will Jeff Williams ever improve his grammar and letter-writing abilities?? 

Is Captain Huggy-face trying to write a letter to PETA by smearing feces on a piece of paper??? 

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Uh-oh Kids! It Looks Like Rainbow Six Is Going To Las Vegas!

     "Rainbow is an international counter-terrorism operation hosted by NATO and funded by money funneled through the U.S. Department of the Interior." - Dr. You Don't Need To Know.
     As most of you know the job and life of a professional journalist is a lot of fun but sometimes it can get very hairy, even dangerous. Danger there my be but it all needs to be taken in stride for the common purpose of getting the big scoop! Completing the story, nailing the assignment and bringing the truth to the readers. However on the odd occasion the writer might find he doesn't know which direction the threat is really coming from. 

     In the summer of 2007 I was given, (what I thought at the time) a great opportunity to tag along with the illustrious Rainbow anti-terrorist team on one of their routine training missions. It was a simple hostage situation where a casino had been captured by a crack team of Mexican terrorists. Many were dead, the city was in panic and there was a bomb threat that had the potential to return Las Vegas back to the dessert from whence it sprang. But how could I care when I couldn't understand what the hell anyone was saying!

     The team had all these little phrases and sayings that they would yell all the time and it got me really confused. So killing and fire-fights and defusing bombs took a back seat to a story I found at the time to be much more relevant and interesting:

The Unnecessarily Frequent And Confusing Slang Of 
The Rainbow Six

     The first team member I interviewed was a young British man named Michael Walters. He was something of an expert in demolition or demo-tapes or something dreadfully uninteresting. I tried hard to listen to his story but these little catch-phrases were getting on my nerves. So I put my hand on his thigh and got right to the point. 

Ridiculous Rainbow Quote Alpha:  
"Anyone keeping score?" 

Tedious Anti-terrorist Translation: 

     I've managed to kill a lot of terrorists in the last little while. Has anyone been counting how many of them exactly because I need to know exactly how many times I get to have sex with my wife this evening. You see the other day before agreeing to go on this mission we came to an accord. For every sinner I bring back to God's good justice, she will allow me one pelvic thrust into her nether-region. I realize you're busy keeping alive and saving hostages and what-not but we haven't made love in over three months and I think Cindy might leave me. You can see how important this is to me. 

     Two terrorists brought down by the right-handed frag grenade of God equals only two pelvic thrusts and then she'll pretend to hear the phone ring or tell me the dog is looking at her funny. You gotta help me, fellas! I only blow up two terrorists and I'm only blowing the mood. If I can manage to bag thirteen or fourteen bad guys depending on how slow and deep I go that might be enough for me to uh ... finish up. And me finishing up has been a long time coming! (Get it?) 

     Heh, Heh, Walters, always the joker. However this next soldier I talked to appeared to have a few more things on his plate than he really seemed able to handle. But I would never tell him that to his face. He might beat me to death.

Ridiculous Rainbow Quote Beta:
"Fragged and Tagged."

Tedious Anti-terrorist Translation:

     It means I just blew another human being to bits with a little hand-held explosive and now to celebrate I'm going to say this cute little rhyme. In fact while sitting down to a nice steak dinner tonight I'm going to "accidently" say it in front of my family. I'll ask my wife, without looking me in the eyes to pass me the casserole and I'll yell,  "Yeah! Fragged and Tagged," while accepting the dish. 

     Then my faggot son will squeak, "What's that mean, Sir?" Of course I'll only tolerate this question if he's not looking me directly in the eyes. After slowly chewing my food and staring him down for approximately one hundred and twenty seconds I'll reply, 
     "Well Junior, that's what Daddy says when something good happens to him. Like when Daddy scores a touchdown at football, or when his beautiful sex-pot of a wife passes him some delicious broccoli casserole. It's also what I say after I blow a beaner terrorist half-way to Tijuana with a fuckin' grenade! Boom!"

     Hopefully by now my little girly son's crying isn't so loud that he, (pffft! More like she) can't hear the rest of my hilarious antic-dote. 
      "Your father also likes to yell this little saying at the dead Mexican's corpse a few dozen times, getting louder and louder while kicking the pile of bloody, anti-freedom flesh over and over until Daddy's partners have to pull him away. Fragged and Tagged!"

     That ought-to straighten my son out. Get him out there playing some more sports instead of taking all these girly math classes. Freaking gays and their fractions and multiplications. The only math my family needs is division. The division of those left-wing faggot nut-jobs from my clean, all-American family unit!  

     Officer Logan went on at length after this about proper family unit hierarchies and why it's important for no one but the President or your son's high school gym teacher to ever look you directly in the eyes. One might think that conducting this interview while in a moving helicopter would be very boring as the interviewer literally has to sit through the whole story and can't go anywhere but believe me, after about an hour and a half of this tree of a soldier readying my mind for the upcoming 'war on musical theatre'  unhitching myself and jumping to my death was seeming more and more like a logical option.   

     Running around, being shot at and trying to understand what these gigantic crazy men were even talking about was a little too much for me. I mean do you all realize how heavy a bullet-proof vest really is? They're massive! I took mine off after five minutes of being there, I didn't care.

     So retiring to the casino bar for a much deserved cappuccino I decided to let some other press hacks take over the interview. Of course they only wanted to talk about 'hostages' and 'death' and all those unpleasant things. I say let them have their little stories. Mine is much more interesting. 
 

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Hmmmm...

Andy Murray is acting now? This guy is a freaking machine! 

Monday, August 31, 2009

The List! Top 5ive reason to hate life!


     This is the end folks. This is the end of all things good and holy in the universe of nerd. Announced TODAY, sure to be a red letter day in history, Monday Aug 31st 2009, DISNEY TO BUY MARVEL IN A SHARES AND CASH DEAL WORTH APPROX $4BN! 

     This means the most "wholesome" multi-national entertainment corporation since the Catholic Church will now have all rights, creative and alike to over 5000, (count it bitch) Marvel characters including Spider-Man, The X-Men and Iron Man. 

     I have a feeling that Marvel characters won't be allowed to wear high heels or have their ears pierced anymore. Sorry Luke Cage. (We all know why they call him Black Raspberry Thunder in certain circles. Looks like Saturday nights just won't be the same in Chelsea.)

     But this isn't all bad like some people might automatically assume. Sure my first instinct was to throw up in my mouth then go out and buy 2000 issues of The Punisher before he becomes The Forgiver, (or whatever) but this could prove to be more entertaining for cynical youth like myself than ever! Are youth today still cynical or has Disney ruined that too? 

     Marvel Comics was founded in 1934, (as "Timely Comics" back in the day) and Disney was founded in 1923 (as "National Socialist German Workers Party" I think) so they both have a long running history in North American and somewhat European pop culture. Of course we all know that neither will be as popular in Europe as that lovable cartoon guitar-playing ladybug thing known as 'Ferdy' but for the purposes of this little article let's just suppose, shall we? 

     These two juggernauts have been drinking the same malt from different straws for so long it will be interesting to see what will transpire when they start getting mono from this new shared red and white striped plastic tube known as 'Darvel Comics and Theme Park' or 'Walt Spiderman Films' or whatever. Will things stay the same within the thousands of beloved worlds and characters from both creative sources or will there be changes? Will the influence of one company and it's millions of fans overpower and thus alter the characters and worlds of another? Will they finally thaw out Old Walt so he can do a film cameo instead of Stan Lee? Only time can tell I suppose but until then let's just make-believe some wacky Marvel-Disney cross-overs!

This is THE LIST! 

TOP 5IVE 
MARVEL/DISNEY FRANCHISE CROSSOVERS THAT WE'D ALL LIKE TO SEE:

NUMBER 5: 
The Jonas Brothers Concert Experience 3-D featuring The Punisher. 
     This one is pretty self explanatory and it's what all the 35-year-old comic nerds who live with their parents and could never get laid are hoping for. 


     Three pre-teen fake rock stars explode on the youth scene with crappy tunes and no musical ability save knowing sort of what a microphone is and which way it should face, (already more than we expected) and already a legion of little girls want to do what they think is the nasty with the Jonas boys. They can wear all the promise rings they want, they're still getting married as soon as they legally can so they can indulge in this great rock-star perk despite how young the girls are. 

     This must really piss the nerds off. "I looked just like that when I was his age! I also couldn't sing and dressed like a gay man's loft apartment* but I never had girls screaming and trying to lock down my bits. This sucks."**

     Do you remember that old Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles live stage show on video casette where four alcoholics in turtle suits dance around on stage pretending to play guitar while thousands of little kids scream and go crazy and want to be their friends? Imagine that but with slightly more ugly performers, a lot less karate and instead of The Shredder busting on stage to steal their pizza in a flurry of polite "boo's" a fully armed Punisher kicks in a door and murders the Jonas boys while the audience doesn't quite know what is going on. Be it real or staged THAT would sell! Also the 3-D would look really cool when Punisher 'promises to ring' their necks while winking to the camera.   

* Not all Gay men are stereotypes but we love the ones that are because if we didn't then we wouldn't have all those amazing decorating shows. 

**Typing this with quotations implies the figurative nerd is actually saying this but in fact he's saying it to the only person he ever talks to that isn't a WOW character, his mother. She's only close to him at that moment because she's wandered close to his computer to hand him his breakfast Red Bull and take his laundry. She died a long time ago inside and is in actuality a hollow shell of her former self and in that sense is not a person at all. So the nerd is really talking to himself and anyone who cares to listen on the other end of his PS3 head-set mic while playing Little Big Planet. 

NUMBER 4: 
The Fantastic Poor: How White People are Saving Black America. 

Just watch the trailer for that terrible new movie starring that terrible old actor Sandra Bullock; The Blind Side*. 

 
     Out just in time for Christmas I see. Watch it? Good. Now watch it again but this time imagine the gigantic black kid is The Thing from The Fantastic Four. The movie could end with my buddy Pat's suggestion that the kid accidently hugs Sandra Bullock to death. Disney would like that, there's hugging!

     *Sure it's not a Disney pic but it's everything Disney stands for and you know it.** No matter how much they want to they're just too afraid to make something so pro-white because they don't want to piss off the millions of non-crackers who also buy all their stuff. It's not racism it's business. 

** Also I just wanted a chance to rip on it just a little bit. I mean just LOOK at it. 

NUMBER 3:
Not a Spider-girl, Not Yet a Spider-woman. 
      We all know the inner turmoil between Peter Parker and Spider-Man. Do I have too much responsibility as a crime fighter? Do I even have a personal life anymore? Am I the man or the mask? Nail Gwen Stacey or nail one of the millions of hot Manhattanites that want a piece of their friendly neighborhood sex machine? My web-head is tingling! Maybe it's time the web-slinger had a partner who has already dealt with these kinds of identity problems? 

     Should Miley Cirus stay in the spotlight as Hanna Montana with her hoards of fans and millions of dollars and 50-year-old stalkers or should she live on a farm with the guy who wrote Achy Breaky Heart? Wait what? She chose the dirt farm? Hmmm maybe she isn't the person Peter Parker should be taking advise from. 

     Nevertheless that would make a somewhat entertaining movie. Exploding cakes, mall developers ruining a perfectly good star-studded barn party and the greatest super-villain of all, Tyra Banks*. Before engaging in a no limits cat-fight with Spider-man in a downtown shoe store or something she'll get to the bottom of his fashion or STD problems on her crappy show before awarding her entire studio audience with free samples of Vasaline. Oh I just had a shiver there. So evil. 

* Before you get your training bra all bunched up let me throw out there that I didn't watch the Hanna Montana movie. I read the plot summery on Wikipedia which was excruciating. I feel so bad for parents who had to sit through 90 minutes of that girl-pandering tripe.**

** Wait no I don't. 

NUMBER 2:
     Mickey Mouse meets Wolverine? Er, Something? 
     I don't know, Mickey Mouse teaches The X-Men about jesus and the glory of right wing politics? They all disband, join various evangelical churches and finish eradicating the 'gay gene'. (X-Men 3 anyone?) Then Storm gets an abortion and the rest are forced to kill her. Enjoy your new movie Red States and anywhere in North America that's rural! 

NUMBER 1: 
Ho' for Sho'


     Here it is. Sexy female super-heroes show Disney princess how to slut it up in skin-tight cat-suits and about 150 of the creepiest people on earth are delighted. No need to skank up Princess Jasmine or The Little Mermaid. They're already there. Look at those exposed midriffs. So disgusting yet... I can't look away. Oh jesus.  I had better go and pray. 


     

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Animal Treachery: The Danger-Killer Saga


     "What the shit do you want, Lawrence?" 
That little punk dared to talk to me with that tone? I was through with taking his grade F bologna. Today was my day.  
        "My name isn't Lawrence anymore you jerk. It's J.P. Danger-Killer and I'm here to kick your ass unless you give me what I want!" I clenched my chubby fists so he knew I meant business but with his gang at his side little Jacob wasn't fazed. I knew I should have worn my jeans with the fashionable rips. That would have scared the hell out of all of them.
     "Do you know what hood you're in, homie," That smug bastard chirped as he popped his collar higher than ever. Jacob was the eyes and ears of this particular stretch of turf and he wasn't above flaunting it. 
     It's a defense mechanism in the animal kingdom to expand one's body in order to seem intimidating and this pint-sized wonder was doing an incredible job. But I was in no kingdom. I was in the hood. On the street with some real bad mothers. I was ready and willing to wet myself in fear right in that bakery parking lot but damnit, I had a mission to fulfill and a beej to receive for completing it! 
     He barked again, "This is Juniper Woods Elementary turf, esse! You can't just go wandering around here without expecting me to come down on your white ass, can you?!"
     Sure they were also white and only about eight years old but when there's over FIVE of them grinding their teeth, waiting to strike at the drop of a bubble-gum wrapper you don't just throw your weight around. They could explode at any minute and then you'd be dead. I knew these things had to be done delicately and with finesse.
     "Tell me what you know about the pregger that lives on Kodiak Lane or I'll kick your fucking face in Jacob!" I was on a natural high. Screaming, I grabbed his collar and shook him like a rag doll, "I don't see your older brother isn't around today to stop me now tell me what I want to know damnit!" 
     As tough as Jacob was in these parts I had momentarily forgotten about his condition. My explosion of child-shaking rage seemed to work to my advantage. His 'loyal' gang was off and running as soon as they saw the blood drip from Jacob's ears. God bless the man who invented cholesteatoma as it works great to frighten and confuse people after a simple tossing around. 

     "Tell me what I want to know or I'll pour your fun dip all over your eyes! Then I'll eat all of it!"
     Amidst the crying I discerned, "Alright, alright I'll talk I'll talk!" I had my window. Time to hussle my buns through it before the bakery staff wised up to what was going on outside. 
     "The preggs moo-cow on Kodiak Lane! Who is she," I screamed. 
     "Marcy from fifth period french it's her aunt!" 
     "Does she give good blowies?!"
     "What?!" Jacob sobbed, "I don't even know what that means!"
     "Can she pleasure a man?!"
     In hysterics Jacob answered, "But you're not a man, you're fourteen!"
     "JACOB," I snapped.
     "I-I think so, yeah sure whatever!"
     Boom in the fucking room. I was in. With that pregnant moo-cow's credit now approved in my books I was ready to stroll down to Kodiak Lane and rescue her defenseless animal thereby receiving my first ever sexual experience that didn't involve the movie 'Wild Things' and one of my little sister's training bras.

     But all wasn't what I had hoped for at 666 Kodiak Lane. There was treachery afoot. Animal treachery and little did I know I was headed straight for a trap of the most sinister kind; a trap against me. 
     I wiped my furiously running nose on little Jacob's shirt and dropped him. It was time to leave before the police arrived. 'The Man' never did understand my working habits. 

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

An Animal Mystery Chapter The First

     Officer P.J. Danger-Killer. Animal rescuer! That's what I'm known as here in Canada, in case you didn't know. I help animals when they're in danger.I find them and help them if they want me to or not because I'm just that awesome. I cruise the streets in my rescue-mobile and gingerly place my ear to the ground. I taste the wind like I taste grape juice; passionately and with purpose. I smell the river like I smell a freshly opened packet of bean curd; diligently and straight to the point. I make love to the grass, because it gives me clues and I enjoy doing it to no end. Nature tells me what the haps is in the world of domestic animals, or more specifically, the terror of domestic animals!

 Mission File 423b 

or as I like to call it: 

Roar And Pieces! The redemption of Leon Stolen-Toy. 

 

     The afternoon started like an afternoon like any other afternoon. Due to my dangerous line of man-work and my extreme living habits I usually hibernated until late in the afternoon so my days didn't in fact start until well in the afternoon. Afternoons were always very lax, easy and boring much like a lazy summer afternoon. But unlike a lazy summer afternoon I wasn't soaking in my neighbor's kiddie pool letting their dog lick catsup off my stomach. Oh wait I actually was doing just that but I wasn't enjoying it as much as I usually do. No this afternoon wasn't like last Thursday afternoon at all. This afternoon eeked that particular fragrance of doom. Animal Doom. 

      A pet somewhere was in danger and I knew I wouldn't be able to relax and rub one out until it was safe and out of harm's way. How did I know, half asleep in a warm pool of hose water, condiments and my and Rex's own filth? Let's just say a little bird told me. Yes I can talk to birds. 

     Before pooing on my head the impudent gull squawked,"Pet Danger! Pet Danger!" Either that or it was asking for tidbits. I usually get those signals mixed up but I wasn't about to take that chance! 

     That was when she sauntered in. Purring softly like an overweight kitten I heard her say from behind,"Are you Officer P.J. Danger-Killer the abused pet protecter?" 

     Without turning or wiping the tomato off my sculpted pectorals I casually replied, trying to hide my massive erection,"That depends... can I trust you?" 

     Silence. Had my mystic nightingale flown away so soon? Perhaps my body was too much for her to handle. It often is with woman. But then relief. A white, mesh-fabric bra drifted through the air, over my head and onto my engorged lap. 

     "Today is going to be a good day," I murmured. Anxiously turning to view my prize I saw it. The horror. Ho-ly shit. A pregger. 8 months, 1 week by my estimation but no matter how far along it was it still made me sick. I almost threw up in my mouth right there. Luckily the aroma of diluted catsup and wet dog quickly calmed my dry heaves.  

     "I have a job for you Danger-Killer. And it's not going to be as easy as I am," it said as it lumbered around to face me. Sure it's boobs were gigantic and it had the floozy glint in it's eye but I can't help but wonder now exactly how many ucky faces I must have inadvertently been making toward it. Was it insulted deep down I'll never know for it still managed to squeeze its bloated carcass into the pool facing me, with the utmost whorishness. Poor dog scampered away before it was crushed. Did the preg-o even see it? Does it even feel feelings like us humans?

     "I have a job for you Danger-Killer. There's a pet in trouble at my apartment and I need you to save it from a horrible beast."

     "Ugh, my services don't come cheap."

It stroked it's gigantic belly and whispered to me, "I think we both know what I'll do for you ... sexual intercourse."

     "That's sick!" I wretched, "you're a four alarm pregger! Are relations even possible with you?"

     "Not your thing? How about we deliver some mouth babies?"

     "I don't even know what that means, you haggard bitch."

I really didn't. The pool was too hot and too cramped for me when I felt a sharp kick to my genitals. But it wasn't it's feet. The beast's mammoth tootsies were resting uncomfortably on either side of my head, stroking my ears. 

     "Sorry," tramp-stamp smiled, coquettishly. "The bun's almost due from the oven and he's a kicker."

     "Is that so?"

     "Yes he's very ... ferocious..." Suddenly it snapped, "Are you going to help me or not, Danger-Killer or am I going to have to take my sluttly old vagina to someone who will?"

     "You can pay me in dollars, thank-you very much." I had had enough of this twisted game. If there was an animal in trouble I had to brave ALL the dangers, even filthy slappers. 

     "My address is 666 Kodiak lane. My pet is trapped in the bedroom. Help it and I'll give you you're money you sexy bastard." It rocked to it's feet, snatched it's scuzzy, dollar store brassier and left. Thank fuck. But to my disgust it's largeness had taken a significant amount of ketchupy pool water with it and I was left wallowing in the summer heat and terrible vibes. 

     I suppose it was time to go to work.