Thursday, April 29, 2010

Dear Diary: Thursday the 29th

Apologies to Oisin O'Sullivan as I sort of ripped off his story format.

Hello Allison, my love, my sweet. I have some thoughts to give to you, so please lend an ear...

This city smells like rot and decay, the stench of a million things dieing and not being able to decompose properly and become part of the earth. It's hard to do when everything is made of concrete. I shouldn't think so much about it, but whenever I walk down the street all I can think about is how a city of 3 million people, with so many living breathing things everywhere, could stink so bad....
I wish that I had never moved away from the country. "Go." The doctor said. Remember that? He said that I needed to be around people. That the solitude was making me crazy. I may have done somethings that were a bit odd, but I don't think I was crazy. I never hurt anyone. Hell, I never wanted to hurt anyone. But now everyday I want to stab someone, or throw them in front of the subway train, or punch them till their faces cave in. I hate these cockroaches, this scum of the world that thinks it's important enough to warrant destroying everything to suit itself. These pushy ungrateful lazy rude festering wastes of precious air and recourses. I never gave other people much thought till I had to live and work among them. Now I despise each and every last one of them.
Every time I think about my lovely trees and my lake and my log cabin, it hurts. It hurts so bad. But I need to go back there in my mind or I'd go completely insane. Today at work my boss yelled at me in front of everybody because some lady complained to him that I wasn't polite enough. He yelled till his face was beet red and veins popped out of his forehead and neck. All I had done was explain to the lady how the gas pumps were supposed to work and she wasn't getting it, so of course after a very long time of trying to make her understand I got frustrated and angry. I didn't yell or anything but I guess my tone was condescending or something and she spent a long time in my bosses office.
So my boss was yelling at me and everyone was looking and I thought about killing him. Right then and there, just putting my hands around his pudgy neck and squeezing till he died. Or tackling him and beating his head on the floor till his skull cracked and his brains started to leak out.
Allison, you know I'm not a violent person right? My past entries in you give testament to that. That is why I love you more than anything else in the world. You know all my secrets but tell no one.
I'm hungry but all I have is leftover hot dogs and a this half bottle of Jack Daniels. I suppose it will have to do. Maybe I can get drunk enough and the hot dogs won't taste so bad.

I have a dream to relate before I go. I know you love these my darling, even more than I do. Just another reason that you are my perfect girl.

I was in some rich person's mansion. This probably came from some TV show that I had seen recently. When Mandy had her party last Friday, we all watched brainless TV so we didn't have to talk to each other so much. But you know that already.
I was standing at the top of the stairs looking down. It was very dark and I could just make out a figure standing at the bottom looking up at me. At first it was just a blurry white shape, but then it started to move up the stairs and I gradually came to the realization that it was a woman. A woman I had never me before. She was very pretty but I knew she was dead and it made me very sad. When she got up to me, she opened her arms and embraced me...
Suddenly I was in a trailer house watching a very fat man murder his wife. He was about finished when I got there, and he stabbed her a few more times before standing up and looking right at me. He handed me the knife without a word and then sat back in his easy chair and turned on The Muppet Show. His wife got up, went into the kitchen, and started to make some food. I was going to ask her if being dead hurt and if she could make me a turkey pot pie because I blew most of my paycheck on cheap books, but then I woke up.

My dear Allison, it is Thursday. One more day of work till the weekend. I've almost finished reading the last book in the original Tarzan series. I would love to read more of Burroughs work but none of the used bookstores I frequent seem to have anything of his. I could get it new but I have no money for new books. Where is the library in this stinking place? Do those even exist anymore? I may have to do some more searching to find out. Maybe this weekend?

I love you Allison. Please be a good girl till we meet again even though I like it when you're bad sometimes. I think about you a lot at work, you know that right? Of course you do. You're with me in spirit always. Adieu!

Wednesday, April 28, 2010


Phase 1:
The monkey will bite you so you have to hit it with the two by four. Hit it really hard so that you knock it out or you'll just piss it off and it'll chew off your face.

Phase 2:
You are the lord of the dance. Too bad you have no feet. Pound those stumps into the ground until they're bloody and maybe you'll get some sympathy. Probably not. You suck at life.

Phase 3:
Why does your head hurt? You're probably not drinking enough human blood. Take into account that school children are going to have less even though they're easier prey and start attacking fat mall guards. They're full of blood and other delicious things, and they can't run very fast. On top of that you'll be doing society at large a favor by taking them out.

Phase 4:
Do you remember when you were a kid and you accidentally killed that caterpillar? How your hand was covered in it's guts and it wouldn't come off and all you could do was smear it on your jeans? Remember how bad you felt, thinking about the beautiful butterfly it could have become? You need to forget that and finish nailing the neighbor's dog to that cross.

Phase 5:
Your porn name is Buster Hymen. How do you feel about that? Well you don't have a choice, you're doing this movie because you owe your kid's kindergarten teacher a ton of coke money. Now keep fucking that chicken!

Phase 6:
Have you read Euphoric and Meloncholic Tales of Modern Suburbia yet? No? I guess I'll leave the electric nipple clamps on for a while longer then...

Phase 7:
Seven is your lucky number. Or at least it usually is. Today is not your lucky day, however. When would you say that your luck started to turn sour? When you farted in front of that pretty girl you say? I was going to say it was when you stepped through to that nightmare dimension where everyone runs around screaming while blood flows from their eyes and eyes and the air is filled with the godawful sounds of Justin Mraz coming from everywhere and nowhere. But I guess that girl was pretty cute...

Phase 8:
Phase 8 is boring. Not much happens. Well, you do get to perform your amazing self-sodomy trick at your 8 year old cousins birthday party. Nothing to write home about though.

Phase 9:
You're almost finished! Just one more phase after this! Fill out this comment form and then stick it up your ass. Please.

Phase 10:
Your final act will be to close your eyes and then run as far as you can in one direction. When you think you're far enough away from your currents surroundings, open your eyes. What do you see in front of you? Whatever it is, human, animal, inanimate object, demon hell spawn come to steal away human children and replace them with it's own, I want you to eat it. If you have to kill it first, then please do so, but you have to consume every single bit of it without throwing up. Ah shit, you failed! It's back to the monkey for you mate...

Consolation prize:
You got second place. Congrats. Please place your upper jaw on the edge of this curb. Your prize is toothlessness and pain. Stop crying. Teeth are over-rated anyways.

First prize:
A jar of Mrs. Greives pubic hair mayonnaise. What? You don't like it? You ungrateful bastard! That shits expensive!

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

From the Archives #1

A while back I attempted to write a story for every deadly sin, to be published in a book that never came to be for a couple of reasons. For one thing, the stories were way too short. For another, some of them weren't very good. It think this is one of the best of the bunch, although I don't think it's all that great. I dunno. I present it for you, my bonny droogs, for your consideration.


Cletus looked down at the large stack of bills in his hands. Most of them were for food. What the Hell did that woman want now? He walked the short way through the kitchen to the back of their trailer. Before he could even open the door the voice bellowed again
He shivered slightly and slowly opened the door. The shades were drawn but they didn’t help to keep the sun out, it just made the small room look even more brown and dirty than it already was. Gingerly stepping around piles of fast food wrappers and pizza boxes and trying not to smash any of the many families of cockroaches that had made this their home and primary source of food, he made his way to the mattress butted up against the far wall. There his wife lay, a hideous stinking blob of fat and flesh with eyes, teeth, and hair. She held a partially devoured chicken bone in one hand and her eyes were glued to a TV set that Cletus had mounted to the ceiling so she could watch her stories without having to sit up.
Good God, he thought, you can’t even see the mattress anymore. He took off his ratty truckers hat and held it gingerly between two fingers.
“Yes dear? What is it dear?”
She took a large bite off the end of a chicken leg, taking most of the bone with it, and sat crunching it. Cletus tried again.
“Yes dear? What did you want dear?” She swallowed and took a heavy breath to speak.
“Cletus, I want you to go out and get me some more chicken. And some ribs. And a triple-decker ice cream cone. And a bucket of pickles…”
Oh no, thought Cletus as she rambled on and on, food again. Why did I think it was going to be anything but food? Because of her eating habits they were flat broke. In fact they were worse than broke, they were severely in debt with no way out. He resisted the urge to tell her this because the room smelled awful and he wanted to get out as quickly as possible. She wouldn’t listen anyways, all she would do was yell about how he didn’t love her and then she would cry. He hated to see her cry.
“…and a ham sandwich, and two big macs from that place with the red haired clown that I like so much, and a carton of Twinkies. Low-fat though, I’m trying to watch my figure.” Cletus sighed.
“Yes Mary-Beth, right away dear.” He turned to leave.
“Cletus?” Her voice softened.
“Yes dear.”
“I love you honey.”
“Love you to pumpkin.”
After he left Cletus stood for a bit looking sadly at the door. What was he going to do? What the Hell were they going to do? He covered his head with his hands and sobbed softly.

She hadn’t always been like she was, otherwise Cletus never would have married her. When they had gotten hitched, she had been darn right purty lookin’. Sure she had a lazy eye and was missing a few teeth, but he was no Dean Martin himself. They had wed at one of those classy drive through chapels and had their honeymoon in a fancy Motel-6 downtown that even had dirty movies on the TV and a cement pond outside. God she looked gorgeous in that swimsuit. Cletus sat on the couch in the living space remembering how it was on their wedding night and smiled. He couldn’t go to work anymore because he had to take care of her all day. He had to bring her food and bathe her, usually with a rag on a stick, and sometimes she just got lonely and he’d sit and tell her stories his mother used to tell him when he was a kid about elves and guys in metal suits. It was stupid shit but she loved it. Well, she used to. Now all she wanted was food all damn day and night.
Shit, he thought and frowned, we can’t afford no more food at all. He would have lit a cigarette but there was no more money for those. No more money for beer, no more money for heat, no more money for water or electricity. He had borrowed from everyone he could think of, his whole damn family, had maxed out all the credit cards, had sold his truck, but it still wasn’t enough. He sat up and looked around.
I’d better git out of here before she starts yellin’ again, he thought, I don’t think I could take it.
He quietly let himself out the front door and went for a walk around the trailer park. Walking helped him think sometimes, especially when it was nice out like today. It was Sunday morning so most people were in Church, or inside watching football on TV. Cletus smiled, he missed football. Mary-Beth used to watch games with him, even though she wasn’t a big football fan, and would cheer when he cheered and curse when he cursed. Those first few years were darn right nice, then she had got fat and everything fell apart. It had happened so fast, it was only three weeks before she was too big to walk by herself and he had to buy her a ‘lectric scooter. When they had gone to Wally-Mart she had to ride in one of them motorized carts and would fill bag after bag with food. It wasn’t any different than most people there but it still made him sad to see her like that. It was another month gone by after that and she couldn’t even get out of bed. Oh my poor poor Mary Beth, he thought…
Cletus had gotten about a block away, down by the Martens when he heard her yell. He jumped about a foot out of his boots and ran as fast as his legs could carry him back to their trailer by the gate.
She was yelling so loud that his ears felt like they were going to burst, but it wasn’t any yelling like he’d ever heard before. She was screaming some kind of garbled words over and over.
Cletus stood looking at the hideous thing that used to be his wife, eyes now yellow and foaming at the mouth, completely at a loss what to do. Suddenly she stopped and looked at him and in a low growling voice that sounded nothing like her own said
Cletus stuttered, “what…what do you want to…eat, there’s no more food in the in the house and we don’t have anymore money to buy any…”
“oh…okay dear…don’t worry I’ll go get you something’ real good, just hold tight now…”
Cletus turned tail and ran as fast as he could back out the door and out into the street. When he was far enough away he slowed to a walk and started to think again.

The first person that he met that bright sunny Sunday morning was Bill the Mailman. Bill was always very cheery, a bit too cheery for Cletus. Plus he was the man who brought him bills.
“How ya doing there Clet? How’s the wife?”
Cletus looked down at the holes in his boots. “Oh, she’s doing alright I guess.” he said in a low voice.
“What was that pal? I didn’t catch that ya there.”
Cletus looked up into Bill’s shiny smiling face. “I said…” Suddenly a though hit him like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t a very nice thought, in fact it was downright evil, but he was a desperate man and it was a very good idea…
He cleared his throat. “Say uh, Bill, how’d you like to come to a little uh football party I’m having tonight?
Bill’s face lit up more than usual. “Say, that’s a good idea there Clet, I’d love to. Mind if I bring my wife along? She’s a big pigskin fan herself. “
Cletus smiled evilly, “Yeah, sure, the more the merrier and be sure to invite lots of other people. Have them be there at 7:00 sharp tonight. And bring lots of food if you can.”
Bill was positively beaming now. “Sure, thanks for the invite, boy won’t the guys down at the post office be glad to hear this, they’re always complaining that they don’t get out enough.”
And with that he turned and walked down the street. He was practically skipping. Cletus stood for a bit laughing to himself and then went door to door inviting everyone in the park.

When Cletus got home a couple hours later the first thing he did was check on Mary-Beth. She was sleeping peacefully, that was good. Then he went around and cleaned up the trailer as best he could and sat and waited for the first guests to arrive. Of course the first person to arrive was Bill with his arm around his blonde trophy wife and a six pack of beer in one hand.
He smiled, “Hey Clet…” He stopped and looked confused. “Where’s the TV?”
“Oh it’s just in the other room here” said Cletus and grabbed the beer. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”
They walked through the kitchen and stood in front of the door at the back of the trailer. Cletus smiled,
“Just in here my good friends.”
Quickly, quicker than he thought he would be able too, he opened the door and shoved them both in. Then he stood with his back to it holding the knob, listening to them yell. Bill’s muffled voice come from behind the door.
“Okay Cletus, very funny joke now let us out. It really smells bad in here and my wife has her best dress on and…”
Suddenly there was a sound, sort of like an injured cow screaming in pain, and a large FLOP of something hitting the floor. Bill and his wife both started to scream.
Cletus held tightly to the door and listened to them scream, laughing to himself. Above the screams he could hear a smacking sound like wet meat hitting together and it slowly got closer and closer to the door.
Then there was a large snapping crunch and Bill screamed in pain and then was cut off. The crunching continued followed by a large belch, all the while Bill’s wife was screaming hysterically and clawing at the windows, which were too small for anyone to get out of anyways. The flopping sounds went away from the door and soon her screams stopped.
Cletus smiled and went back to the living room to await the rest of the guests.

Two by two and one by one they all came. Bill’s co-workers came in a large group and Cletus was scared Mary-Beth wouldn’t be able to get them all at once. Maybe they would hurt her? But it was no problem, they simply clawed at the walls and yelled while she devoured them one by one.
The Martens, The Breeches, The Shenton’s and the Pilboughs with their stupid yappy dog, they all came and were all herded to their doom. When he was sure they were all gone Cletus smiled and sat on the couch and cracked open one of Bill’s beers, breathing a sigh of relief. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to eat for a very long time now…
Suddenly he heard a loud moan. He walked over and put his ear to the door. From the confines of the back room he heard a voice say softly:
“Cletus….Cletus love…I…want…more…FOOD!!!”
He stumbled back just as she hit the door hard, breaking it down completely. All he could see was a writhing mass of fat in the doorway, fat and teeth. Tentacles of blubber reached for him, pulling him closer to its gaping maw.
“Honey pie,” it said and took a large bite out of his face. When it was through with him it broke through the sidewall of the trailer and flopped off into the night for the trailer park just down the street.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Total Drama Theater #3

"That movie was pretty cool."
"Yeah, I liked when the people said things and then things happened."
"Why did you grab my boob?"
"I was reaching for the popcorn bag."
"That excuse would only work if you hadn't squeezed it. Several times."
"Well...did you like it?"
"I was just wondering why you did it is all."
"You have nice boobs."
"My husband thinks so too."
"I've never seen your husband..."
"He works for the mafia. He tortures people into confessing things."
"Hm. I suppose he's real scary looking then, with lots of big bulging muscles?"
"You don't have to tell him what I did."
"Of course I do. I tell him everything. I tell him when I have a bowel movement or when my period flow is particularity heavy."
"So he knows we go out?"
"Yup. He's not very happy about it."
"Neither am I."
"Yeah, you're going to die a pretty painful death. I suppose the least I can give you is a blowjob."
"No. I will push you into traffic so that your death will be less painful though."
"Would you? Shove me in front of that Semi-truck."
"Will do." (Shove).
"Wow, that guy just didn't want to stop did he? Drivers in this city, I swear..."

Total Drama Theater #2

"Oh jeezus! You scared the crap out of me!"
"I love you!"
"I love you! Isn't that awesome?"
"Um, Joe...I'm married."
"So, you can get a divorce."
"Okay, not likely."
"But I love you so much! I'll do anything for you! What do you want?"
"I don't want anything! You're starting to freak me out..."
"Do you want blood? I can give you blood!"
"What? No, don't...Oh Jesus! Jesus Christ!"
"That hurt. A lot."
"I think you need to go to the hospital."
"No no no. If I do that then you won't think I'm a man. I want you to think I'm cool and strong and can provide for you and..."
"Dude, you're starting to turn pale."
(Sings) "Let's sit down by the riverside, my love for you will never die..." (Falls over.)
"Well...that was interesting. Hey! Starbucks is have a mega-sale this weekend! I'm so stoked to go! Wait. Who am I talking to?
(End Scene)

Wednesday, April 21, 2010


Sorry that I haven't posted a whole lot lately. I've been working on my book a tiny bit but I've also been an unmotivated lazy ass that just wants to mess around on the Internet and watch gory horror movies to shut the voices in his head up.
I've decided that I'm not going to charge for this thing since most of the poetry it contains is right here on this site for free. So when I get it all finished I'll announce it here and you can just send me your addresses through email and I'll send you a free copy! There'll be about five new poems, and the whole thing will be about 50 pages. If I can work up the motivation to finish the damn thing...

In other news, I've thought up a little contest. I bought a brand new copy of the Library of America's collection of Lovecraft fiction and thus my old thrift store paperback collection of stories is obsolete. So...I thought maybe one of you guys would want it. All you have to do is draw or sketch a picture of Mr. H.P and send it to me by email. Best one gets a copy of the book! It contains eight stories, over 200 pages, is old and falling apart but a great intro to the king of weird fiction.

reference pictures:

Send entries and inquiries to:

Thanks again to ya'll for reading!

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Mix Tape Game

If you can tell me what all of these have in common you win...nothing! Actually you win nerd cred. Isn't that good enough?

Sesame Street - Beginning, Middle, and End

That last one should give it away pretty easily!

Monday, April 12, 2010

PSA Super Retro-Funtime Aneurysm!

I've talked a bit before about how the generation I grew up in was probably the last to have a good Saturday morning block of cartoons on several channels. (We were probably also the last to grow up at least partially without cable hookups and Internet). There's part of the Saturday Morning Cartoon experience I failed to mention though: The Public Service Announcement.
See, while we sat staring rapt at the screen in our pajamas with our bowls of sugary cereal in front of us, the folks who ran the networks were plotting to educate us! They wanted to teach us things that weren't taught in schools and they used our favorite characters to do so.
Most of these are either very narmy, disturbing, or both.

Even as a kid I thought this ad was a bit odd. I think it was the really awkward acting, or the fact that The Turtles were made up of recycled animation that doesn't match up from scene to scene. It's even weirder now because my adult logic says "Who runs around with four huge joints and just randomly offers them to people? That's a great way to get arrested." I think it's indicative of the fact that the people who make things like this have no idea how the drug game really works. See also: Reefer Madness

What a weird ad. Maybe if they had made a "Don't jack off in the back of porno theaters" PSA then Pee Wee would still have a career.

Lets go with another famous one. This one one doesn't have any notable kid's show characters, but it's still a great bit of fun:

You know what kids learn from ads like this? Hide your damn weed better!

Lets go even more retro:

I think it's meant to be scary but it seems to make a case for taking drugs rather than staying away from them.

"Gee Yogi, why is smoking so bad?"
"That's easy'll make your goddamn head come off!"

It seems like just about every kid-centric TV show and movie from the 70s to the 90s had some sort of lame PSA made with it's characters.

Case in point:

I wish they had made an episode where Lion-O got drunk and threw Snarf under a speeding bus. His voice makes me want to attack him with a ball peen hammer.

Ummm, yeah, thanks He-man! Always listen to strange men wearing fur underwear when they talk about your body.
Truthfully, I've never watched an episode of He-man or She-ra in my life, but the limited animation seems to give it a creepy uncanny valley vibe. Am I the only one that gets this from it?

Hooray for ruining Halloween by being over protective and creating unwarranted public panic! It also kind of pisses me off that they stole pieces of Garfield's Halloween Adventure. Way to take something awesome and make it lame!

And of course you can't talk about stupid PSA's aimed at kids without mentioning the infamous GI Joe spots:

Good wholesome safety tips for the whole family to take a note of!

Stay classy ya'll, and always eat your Gopher Cakes!:

Saturday, April 10, 2010

More Comic Book Covers

The final batch of covers. Sorry these aren't as interesting as the last ones.

What If? is a pretty cool series if you're really into comic books. It presents alternate versions of well known comic book stories and lets the writers stretch their imaginations a bit. Also, I know this cover is a reworking of a famous Amazing Spider-man cover, but I can't find it! Can anyone help?

I like this cover and it's a pretty good comic too. It's part of a continuing story where Reed Richards loses his powers and has to go back into space to get them, having to fight off the Red Ghost in the process. Dr. Doom also makes an appearance, of course. Doom is one of my favorite comic book villains. He's such an asshole, but he has no real reason to be. The Fantastic Four weren't responsible for his disfigurement, but he torments them anyways. What a prick!

A pretty tame Batman cover. Kind of a "blah" comic too.

I like how this one is a call back to the pulp magazine bondage covers of the 30s and 40s. Too bad the book itself is really lame.

And finally, something non-comic book related:

This was the insert for a 4 dollar movie I bought recently. Pretty cool eh? I love classic exploitation art. You just don't get the kind of weird and lurid stuff on movie posters that you used to.

Friday, April 2, 2010

More From Captain Bob (See Below Post)

Why? What does it matter to you? You fucking white middle class bitch! You've never felt real pain! You sit in your fucking white middle class suburban home and drink your fancy expensive wine and watch brain dead TV while all of us are out here doing real work! This is hard, it tries my patience, it taxes my muscles, it burns my brain! I WILL NOT TAKE ANYMORE SHIT FROM YOU! And thus, the first thing I will do is rip your throat out with this corkscrew.

You're upside down because I want you to watch the blood as it drains down from the incisions I make in your abdomen. I want you to taste it, feel it's warmth as it flows away from you, I want you to appreciate the life that you're losing. That's all that really matters isn't it? Everything is just time wasting shit if you don't enjoy it. Too bad you have to learn that this way. *slice!*

When I was six my dad started burning me with his cigars when I was bad. Then he started doing it whenever he felt like it. Here...*scream*
That feel good? No? How about if I do *louder screams*
Hmmm, I don't think you're getting it. I want you to feel a bit of what I, and your kids, felt. How about if I put *ear splitting screams*
Oh, there it is! I love the feeling don't you? The joy of an artist when he finishes a painting that he knows is his masterwork, a novelist when he types in that last word, or a god who creates his first sheep and then fucks it. *sigh*
But you wouldn't no anything about art would you? No, I don't think so...*loud screams*

Oh the sledgehammer! Such a crude instrument, don't you think? It takes a lot of strength and energy to wield it once let alone over and over. It's a working class tool alright. I like using it, the only problem is that the job is over too quickly! There's not time to savor the screams or the look in their eyes. Just one smash and it's all done. No my friend, it's electro-shock torture for you! Why? Because I'm FUCKING IN CHARGE THAT'S WHY! Don't question me again or I'll rip your tongue out and shove it up your ass so the last thing you taste before you die is your own shit. What? How would you taste it if your tongue wasn't connected? I told you not to question me! *loud screams*

In my spare time I like to do jigsaw puzzles. Really complicated million piece ones. It keeps my artistic juices flowing between jobs. It says on your sheet here that you don't like puzzles. Why not? I don't know is never a right answer. *Buzzing, painful screams*
Why don't you like puzzles? I-I-I isn't good enough either! *Buzzing, painful screams*
That's not really a good enough answer, but I'l let it slide. In fact, I'll let you go! Haw haw, just kidding! You're going to die.

Time for a lunch break! Should I eat the skinny lawyer, or the fat pedophile teacher? Eh, I'll eat both and eat the leftovers for dinner. Damn this pedo has a small dick! It's almost microscopic! There goes the best part of the sandwich....

In a dark basement somewhere east of Slanasville...

Hello Bill.
Where am I?
I'll ask the fucking questions thank you very fucking much.
Where am...*SMACK*
Oh god, shit!
I told you to shut the fuck up and when I tell you to do something you do it! I'm in charge here! This ain't no fucking Mickey Mouse blowjob parade! I ain't got no Cinderella costume on! Got it Billy boy? Right. I'll allow you to ask one question now.
Where...Where am I? Why am I chained to the wall?
That was two fucking questions! *SMACK* YOU'RE NOT VERY GOOD AT LISTENING ARE YOU BILL? *SMACK* You're not at a beach blanket party jerking off into your shorts while motherfucking Buddy Holly plays on your shitty portable stereo. There ain't no 300 LB grandmas with wrinkly elbows to bring you fucking ice cream when the big bad kids kick over your sandcastle. I ain't your fucking grandma! Ask the fucking question again.
W-w-where am I?
It doesn't matter, you're going to be dead soon anyways. Do you like that word? Dad? It's very pleasant and peaceful sounding...
Oh dear sweet Jesus help me!
Jesus? Jesus was a pedophile that kidnapped little kids and dragged them off to his cave, his rape cave Bill! Didn't you read that part of The Bible? Why the fuck are you praying to pedophile rapist? I had a pedophile here one time. I shoved his cock into a meat grinder and then made him eat it.
What are you going to do to me?
*sigh* I'll let that one slide because I'm tired of yelling. My real world boss did a lot of yelling. Till I ripped his throat out with a pair of metal siding shears. Sometimes I feel like him, like his soul is living in my body. Then I get mean and start yelling. I'm not really mean. I don't do this for fun. But it has to be done. There's not two ways around it yesindeededoo!
Please let me go, please! I have a wife and kids!
Oh, really Bill? Do you think of them when you're skull fucking your secretary in those shitty motels?
I never...
I have it on tape. Do you want to see? I showed it to a friend of mine and he threw up! Fucking threw up right there in front of me! I guess that's not a big thing for you since you don't know Don, but he's even more fucked up in the head then I am! I guess seeing too much of your hairy ass and floppy weird looking balls sent him over the edge...
You can't do this YOU CAN'T!
You don't know how cliche you sound right now. You know how many people I've ripped apart in here? Didn't you notice how bad it smells? You think I like this smell? Do you think I like hearing people scream as pieces come off of them? I don't get off on this shit like a lot of people do. But it has to be done. It's my fucking JOB!
If I get out of here, you'll pay for this you sick fuck!
*sigh* You all sound the same, exactly the fucking same...wonder what I'll use on you though. Gonna take a lot of tearing since you're so goddamn fat. I like to feed my creative instincts and you certainly have a wide enough canvas for me to do that!
I'm dreaming! I've got to be! This can't be real! Why can't I wake up? Oh dear god...
Reality is a dream created and controlled by things well beyond your simple comprehension. If you were any smarter you would connect the dots and realize that I am one of their agents. You are a flaw in the system that must be dealt with in the harshest way possible.
Nope, I'm perfectly sane, this is just my job...oooh, band saw! It's trite and obvious but it's good to start with.
One more thing before we start here. When you reach the other side and you sit in judgement before the elders, please don't lie about what you've done. You might get a small bit of time in Hell and be sent back to the system again if they think you have a chance of repenting. Probably not, but it's worth a try. Oh and this is going to hurt...a LOT!
*loud screams*

Thursday, April 1, 2010


I decided to do something different tonight. What I post up here is pretty much dependent on the kind of mood I'm in and I'm in a strange mood tonight. Actually, I've been in a strange mood all week but tonight I feel really weird. Maybe it's just frustration getting to me again. I think, like anybody, that when faced with things that I'd rather not deal with I escape into fantasy, but my fantasies are always dark and weird. I want to run around fighting evil sickening things with various sharp instruments, blowing up living dead creatures with dynamite, and drill holes in Al Gore's head to find out of there really is a tiny alien inside his brain controlling him. Yeah, I 'm not quite right. I've come to accept that.
So anyways...some stuff.

3 Freaky Songs:
From the Halloween (2007) Soundtrack:

I love how subtly creepy this version is, plus it's beautiful. It deserved to be in a better movie than Rob Zombie's Halloween that's for sure.

I could have put up a lot of songs from The Marshall Mathers LP but I think this one is just freaky enough with out crossing the line into unleaded nightmare fuel like Kim. Plus it has the line "Put your hands down bitch, I ain't gonna shoot you, I'm gonna pull you to this bullet and put it through you!" Awesome.

You know the story behind this song? Sabbath's guitarist, Tony Iommi, woke up one night, thought he saw a demon sitting on the end of his bed, and freaked the fuck out. Knowing that makes the song so much creepier. "Oh no no, please god help me!"

Random Thing:
My friend told me today that when she was in college she had people coming up to her all the time asking where the rest of the Mexicans were at and where to get good tequila. She's third generation Mexican-American and doesn't have a trace of an accent.

And finally, another Nightmare Theater/Family Circus mashup I made in MS Paint:

And one with Skadi!:

(Skadi and Kimbo are here: of course)

Putting this super secret (not really) thing together, hope to have it done this weekend!