Flatline Comics: Dump

I am going to try to dump as much cached crap I can find from the old Flatline days into here so I can have it archived. I don’t suggest that anyone actually reads any of this stuff, but I’d like to store it somewhere easily accessible (in defiance of GOD!!) before it’s lost forever.

I have left the spelling and grammar untouched for extra irony (especially when I am writing about how stupid I think people are).

To download the entire archive click here

Idiots

They are everywhere. I was at the local “Community Days” today and was astounded by the number of people allowed to live. I will now further elaborate.

There was a man playing a banjo and walking around…playing a banjo…and walking around, with a crazy banjo hat no less. Guess who was beside him? Of coarse a man with an accordian. What’s the first thing that came into your mind when you heard that? “Kick him in the nuts!” perhaps? That’s what me AND my friend both thought at the same time. I imaginethey have been to enough fairs and what not that they have a cup by now..and bullet proof vest; he is inviscible, there is nothing you can do to them that they havent seen before.

Moving onto another idiot, myself. I decided to park in a small space beside another car and for one reason or the other I decided to lock my doors upon exiting my car. What made this event stand out past any other event is that the keys were still in my car. Something else odd that happened was that is was still running, and atop that I had unknowingly parked in an ENTIRE parking lot; thus the fun ensued. This event would have been hilarious had it not been my new car in the middle of the predicament, actually there was my car and one other. A what appeared to be 89′ Buick LeSabre.

Naturally everyone decided to blame the new red nice car, rather than the ugly buick. Even though that car was far more in the way mine for some reason recieved most, if not all of the abuse.

Upon realizing I immediately called my mom, in hopes that she may have another key, she did and said she would be there shortly. By shortly I guess she meant a half an hour, because that’s how long it took the 5 minute ride there for her.

In the mean time I had already fended my car off from angry drivers attempting to break into, and curse my car. All of the odd looks were pointed squarely at me, yet no one felt the need to blame the piece of shit LeSabre.

After several minutes had past I had already been verbally assaulted several times, included a few mothers that decided to put in their 2 very uneeded cents on the matter, calling me such glorified names as, Shit head and the like. After so long and me pretending to own a different car my mom finally showed up giving me the keys to my vehicle allowing me to move it and pretent that nothing had ever happened. This was hard to do, because nearly 30 of my friends/peers had witnessed the entire event.

In conclusion to that part, I suggest that there is nothing finer for my money than locking my still running car in a non-parking spot that directly blocks many,many other cars from exiting.

Adding to this group of idiots is the significantly older gentlemen who still attempt a futile connection to highschool freshmen, such as college students and the like. Sure your in college now, and yes your old and have a stupid looking sweat shirt from the half rate college you attend, but girls didnt dig you because you were a greasy highschool nerd, now girls just dont dig you because your a greasy college nerd who hits on young girls. Things dont change that much, the best they can hope for is to scrounge a couple fat chicks because then they can tell all the cool people that they are seeing/slept with a college guy.

In some senses I feel bad, and life is hard all over just the colors are a bit dimmer on their side of the color spectrum, and are slowing fading to the undesireable browns to dark greys. With these folks in mind, I would like to remind you also that no matter how big your speakers are in your 89′ chevy chelebrity now that you are older the girls that turned you down in high school are still going to, now it will just be their younger sisters with them.

My next complaint is idiots with enormous attack dogs. WHy would you ever want a dog the size of a pony or very small horse, this doesnt make sense to me. The main attribute to these dogs is the ability to kill, and that’s great if your using it to lets say hold dog fights charging $8 dollars for admission in your basement (see contact info for more details). There are other purposes for them, but none that are more important than my own health and well being.

Another thing that bothers me is people that you dont know well enough to talk to in person anytime, that comes up and starts a conversation while you are with your friends. Sure I care about what stupid thing you just did/eat but not right now, actually I’ll chage that, not ever. I hope you die, move 8 steps to your left and then forget to swallow and drown.

Idiots new version 2.0

Feast your filthy eyes on my next section of idiots.

What? theres more you say? Of coarse your surrounded by idiots, look around. Right now my friend Dave is playing 90 Minute Football (DC), well not just playing but for the past several hours. He just made this remark to me as I was typing actually, “It’s pretty sweet, I made the games longer.” Now im not sure if I could sustain the amount of alcohol mixed with dead hooker that it would take for that to sound like a good idea to me. Im not going to single dave out as an idiot, because we all know he isnt, but this game is awful, and I’d say he has put over 10 hours into it over the times he’s been over to my house. After my futile attempts to explain the terrible aspects of the game he holds strong to his favorite DC title, Im proud, wait no, discouraged by this action.

It bring me physical pain to merely watch the game, let alone play it for any amount of time, to each man his own I suppose, he also admits to watching World Cup Soccer on Espn2, If it was between that and punching myself in the face, i’ll take the punch.

I did although attempt to play soccer, one game, and one practice, that’s all before I decided, that I dont like it and never want to play it again. In this game of soccer I managed to knock over three people and take another out of the game, I felt my presence had been known in the world of soccer, and that was a good time for me to retire indefinately.

Another bunch of seathing idiots are the people that “street race” in town. Sure your 88′ Corolla is sweet and yeah since the muffler fell off it’s the loudest vehicle in town, but here is an amazing revolation to you; Girls just dont care that much, and neither does anyone else. Reinactment-

Idiot #1 – “What the rolla hit 50 in the izza, word”
Idiot #2 – “Tru Dat yo, it was up and about that biotch”
Idiot #1 – “Old school”

And that is as far as that conversation goes, sure there are more gang symbols thrown up than a scuffle at the source awards and some females are defiled during the entire event but that’s the reason why they live, ever since “The Fast and the Furious” hit the box office. Hint- Your not Vin Diesel, and no you will never be as cool as him because everyone can see your rat tail flopping in the wind while you hit 43 mph on the Boulevard past Advance Auto Parts.

Another thing that makes me mad is the rapper folk with their hippen and their hoppin and their bippen and the boopin…eigh. Every new rap song is a sample of another song, even songs that werent even that good before- have been made to suck even more now. Their will be more on this later Im sure but I dont have the strength to combat this right now, my mana is low.

MOving along I wil now single out you, the male cheerleader. My good man, do you know what your doing to yourself? Not JUST yourself but your father more importantly, think about this, I’ll now add another exquisite dialogue.

Father #1 – “My son is all state quartback third time in a row and he’s out stomping queers tonight”
Father #2 – “My son had a meeting with the squad tonight, turns out his pompoms weren’t frilly enough or something”
Father #1 – “Im sorry to here that”
Father #2 – “I think we hugged him too much”

Glitter was almost not gay on David Bowie, and he looks sorta like the devil himself, whenever its smeared on you like war paint you are open to any type of inhuman torment that can be thrown out at you. Some male cheerleaders are good people, but the choice to be a male cheerleader in itself just pisses me off. Sorry.

Another group that pisses me off is you, the person that sued anyone for anything less that them making you have sex with them for a job. Even in some cases not that how else could you interview a porn star, I mean really. I am now afraid to piss in the water fountain because someone of coarse will be offended in some way; And I say America, this isnt right.

We are too wrapped up with easy money and I am all for it as long as it doenst come to great expense to another person. Example, The pretzel place is closing, they are going to throw away the pretzels anyway, you ask and receive a complementary pretzel, that’s ok. Another example would be you being offended by me putting a cat in the toaster oven, and taping the door shut; then suing me for mental distress. If it’s your cat you should merely get a cat back, I dont know.

It’s hard to even contemplate a humerous way to write this because its such an obvious problem and has been referred to all too oftenly, but I had to add it.

Chicken in a Biskit, a favorite snack up here in the office, yet an amazing triviality, does it need to suggest a chicken is trapped in a biskit for me to eat it? If it tasted anything like a chicken I would not have a problem, but it doesnt. It tastes like a cracker, a good cracker, but not a chicken cracker.

Is the American public to the point where we need a direct reference to something we know and love in order for us to accept something? Chicken in a biskit, that makes me sick, well not the crackers, I like those, the name, suggests I have no broader a mindset that if I cant find a chicken inside this box of “biskits”-crackers, then ill simply find them revolting and not quite chickeny enough for my taste.

Who’s to say they arent turning away people that despise chicken, it doesnt take like a chicken, and doesnt look like a biscuit. It could be called salty flavored crackers, and I would buy them, and I love it because of it’s shear honesty to the customer. Telling me there is a chicken inside a bisquit. Hardly my friends, hardly.

I now would like to point out myself due to the abundance of spelling and grammatical errors I have commited. thanks for reading.

idiots III : the resurrection

Well, they are everywhere so there isnt any reason for there to not be another more improved version of IDIOTS, welcome to my dynasty, my name is Ryan and I’ll be your host.

Oh yeah working in a grocery store puts me in contact with all sorts of people, the majority of these being, as you may have guessed, idiots. As I described before I think the people that say “I bet you hate people like me for messing up your aisle.” No, your half right, I hate you, but for a different reason.

Moving on if anyone here didnt notice I was being sarcastic and making fun in the entire how to be a thug editorial, you can go ahead and get the hell off the site. That is an idiot I would like to point out people that use words to stereo-type people that dont make sense, alright, white people = crackers. Ok, lets think, crackers are somewhat pale in complection, some of them, yet others can be very dark, and covered in cheese, long story short, i’d be a monkeys uncle if I didnt cover myself with cheese and salt on a regular basis, so good work whoever thought of using the name crackers…idiot.

I choose you MTV VJ, as the quintessential idiot. I ACTUALLY heard one of them say, pick up this album for you baby’s momma. My immediate responce was, “He cant be serious.” Oh but he was, very serious, he also added a shout out to his nza ray ray, which sealed the deal for me. I dont think I have ever heard anyone use “babies momma” in real life, which is good, because if I had I would be in great need for a trunk to a 87′ Chevy celebrity, and an easily accessible cliff. (for our handy capable readers, that means I would have killed them, over dramatic movie style)

People that open e-mails from unknown locations that has no reason to are also very high on the list for me. Im not going to pick at my aunt, because she is new to the whole interent thing but I’ll tell ya what she said:

“RYan I got a couple viruses, I keep getting these weird emails I don’t know who they ae from, but this one won’t go away, I ttyed to qaurantine, and delete it about 20 times, What shoud I do?”

My answer – “not open emails from people you dont know…”

I hope that got the point across, I dont mean to single her out-just use her as an example, but just people in general, she didnt know better, but some people do because I’ve explained it to them but they still think they are the only ones who has the inside track on some killer deals at the idiot imporium or something, who knows?

Next up we have our friend the customer service manager who hates their job. Usually people that work at a SERVICE desk, or as a service manager has some people skills, this is all too often untrue. These are the most angry people you come across because not only do they have their own problems (ie. working at a dead end job for the rest of their lives) but they also have to deal with everyone else’s problems. I dont sympathize is anyway-let’s get that across, they chose this as a life style, and it’s their on stupid fault for it.

Here’s a hint for all you out there, if you hate people, dont work in a position that has you communicating and working WITH people, do us all a favor and forget to stay awake in the tub in your sub-par apartment while you indulge over a $5 bottle of champagne.

Up to bat we have sports dads, oh yeah you know the type. Screaming “Damnit bobby, get up and kick his ass” as he sips at his budweiser, forgetting he is 38 years old and still athletically awkward. Although his son shows some promise so he decides to coach every team they are on to grant them the max playing time allotted. Sure HIS dream of winning the “big game” is highschool is over but his son winning it is the next best thing, and is something he can brag about while he tries to forget the last 20 years at 3 o’clock in the morning in a dank bar next to a person named Alex who he cant tell if it’s a man or a woman but it sure looks good after 12 beers. It seems I have went off on a rant, but that would be straight Dennis Miller style, and that I cant have (If you dont know who Dennis Miller is, punch your monitor and set your room on fire that your in right now, then attempt to put the fire out with your life).

Next little ducky to role around is the idiot child. Oh yeah you know the type, they have burn marks, not from their parents but from touching hot things. I’ve seen gerbils that can pick this up after the 2nd time…why cant they? Furthermore their parents should burn them, for being stupid and an embarrassment. Instead of playing outside with the other kids they decide to stay in, talk to the cat, and collect things in jars to stow away in the basement for “the right time.” Oh yeah there is nothing they cant do to put their fathers to shame, all the way from doing his friend’s hair to playing jump rope as apposed to kick ball during recess.

It seems I have skipped boat from the last paragraph which seems to favor the sports dad, and the one before it that put him to shame. If you thought this, you couldnt be more wrong.

I feel there can be a simple middle ground, which is where I am at. My dad isnt obsessed with me playing sports, but he enjoys it when I do well in manly endevers which promotes the furtherment of the seed. I am not a sports star, but I would say im slightly below average which is fine for me, I care not to play sports in college because for me that is an institue of higher learning not institute of kick ass sports, dude. I may sound a little preachy but I’m not going to waste my life playing sports, hurt my knee the first year I join up with super cool college, get a degree in business and work at Arby’s for the rest of my life, hardly seems worth it for me. (sorry had to get that out of my system, I’ll simply return out of any serious slump the same way I always do)

Bob recently joined one of those match maker websites because It’s hard to find gay jewish boys around this area….and I’m back.

But this seems long enough, I know that because it’s far too long for me to proof read, I’ll let Bob or something as for that this is the 3rd installment of the fabled idiots editorials, me working at a grocery store gives me a lot of fuel so I’m sure number idiots version 4 is lurking right around the frozen food section about to intersect me in the dairy aisle, but until then, keep your eye on the sky. Ryan out.

New Idiots v4.0

Oh yeah, If anyone has ever been to any concert, let alone all day music event you have been surrounded by unspeakable idiots, Im going to relate a couple of the things I saw while I was at the Vans Warped Tour.

Don’t get me wrong I had a great time there, but the people…just soo stupid. For one, I guess it’s just supply and demand but I spent $13.25 on 4 drinks, 4 drinks, first it’s amazing that I only drank four in the time I was there because it was about 90 degrees and I was surrounded by sweaty strangers. $3 dollars for a water… I think that paying ANYTHING for water is outrageous. I stuck to the lemondaid, I hate lemonaid but at the time it was the most refreshing elixir I could have attained. For the idiot in that one i’ll say myself, because later in the day I found a water fountain, yes, free water-> $13.25 later though.

Another person who I hate is the guy with the backwards hat who likes to “mosh” at inappropriate moshing bands, at inappropriate times. There is a band up, they are kinda slower, not real heavy, they are playing one of their better slower songs and this idiot decides that it makes him want to kick some ass I guess, he goes around pushing people, and so I just jack him in the back for being so stupid. He didnt stop though.

Also someone of equal demenor is the crowd surfer with poor timing, sure during the heat of the song you get up there and ride the crowd during one of the more up beat songs, not after a song is done and the lead singer is talking, that’s calm down time. Not kickass ride the crowd time, i’ll drop your ass like so much Enron stock my friend I am not even kidding. Also girls expect to be groped if you crowd surf with a bikini top on. That’s all I have to say about that.

I have also attended several local fairs. The oddest of these being the “Ag & Youth fair.” For you city slickers, “Ag” stands for agricultural, furhter explained means farm animals. Oh yeah nothing to get me roarin for a good time like heaps of horse and cow shit.

I had to work at this fair as well and oh yeah, this was great. The only thing that could have made it better would have been if the people I had to work with werent so stupid that they could scoop their own goddamned ice cream. Alright I understand me and my friend work at the ice cream part of the shop with isnt even seperated by your warm food part of the place but if you have ever used a spoon your more than qualified to put it on your own damned apple dumpling.

Another thing, the kids from the public school worked in 3 hours shifts, I was there for 6 and half hours. If I were getting paid I wouldnt have cared that much, also if I wasnt supposed to attend a wedding at 4 o’clock I might not minded either. They wouldnt let me leave, she said I could go walk around the fair but I would have to wait before I can leave. I nearly pointed out the grotesque assholes sitting in the back talking, eating the stuff I was making, and asking me for ice cream on their apple dumpling could have EASILY handled the ice cream job. Furthermore, if I could have went and walked around why couldnt I just walk to my car and leave?!

I also met the dullest, most worthless woman alive at this fair. She was from out of state, which I sympathized with because sure, it might be kinda hard since your not from here, but I gave her the directions to get back to the hotel, they went like this. Goto the end of the parking lot, take a right, then go straight on a road for about 15 miles, then take another right. AND SHE DIDNT GET IT. RIGHT, STRAIGHT, THEN ANOTHER FRIGGEN RIGHT. After I explained to her again, the 3 word directions she added, “Well, pray for me boys.” PRAY for YOU> I’ll pray that God gets angry and decides to weed out the population starting with you.

I’m sorta worked up after that. Also this fair was an awesome mullet and stone cold steve austin 3:16 shirt fest. Oh yes the K-mart specials were out that night for sure. But honestly how filthy do you have to be to think this is cool?

Well that’s enough about that fair, I also attended a fair that was comprised of one street. One street of stuff, and that’s it. It was a sight to be seen. There was the food at the one side, then there was a little stage for a band, then the rides and that’s it. Of coarse it’s a huge event for the town it’s in but the Ry-man was not impressed.

The best part of this fair was my uncle having a pizza place on the street and me being able to shave off a couple dollars on the final tag of a tasty slice of pizza. Also being able to have access to special behind the pizza place parking, which saved me from a nearly 100 foot walk. Oh yeah, i dont some connections, biotch.

Well enough about fairs, and festivals or whatever else because I particularly dislike ALL of them, because one, I dont like rides, two, I dont like people, and three, I dont like wasting my time. So that rules out all the life for me. The only festival I am remotely interested in is The Polish Festival at St. Mike’s which totally rules, I’ve gone like all day everyday since I was about 2 years old. The Polish food is to not be beat and the polka music is top notch. There are friends and family galor, not to mention games of skill and chance. *plug*

Well, that wasnt too funny, but it was just more about me venting, I might just right a follow one up right now, Im not sure. Thanks for reading, also take notice to no Bob bashing, I miss my little man while he is on vacation.

Idtiots v5.1.0.1.3 with the 5.1.0.14 patch

Things I enjoy are Jocks, oh yeah. Particularly because they are hilarious, not only this but they can make the most poinent and interesting statements almost at random it’s excellent. If you had a meter that told you how sarcastic something is it would have kicked you in the nuts just there, for having to look at it.

I’m sort of angry. As always. One thing that particularly bothers me is people who aren’t funny, making jokes. I mean alright yeah let them give it a shot but after repeated attempts and no success; relize your time to talk is over, just stop now -maybe we’ll forget what all you said. Chances are that at least I wont, and I’ll constantly be coming up with new and better ways to put you down, because I feel it’s awesome to make someone look stupid in front of their friends, nothing is grander especially when I’m not even part of the conversation because they dont really like me. Sarcasm meter up kinda high there as well.

My good friend Bethanie just made a comment about the game “padittle” that Joel has wrote on in depth. She stated “yeah, i mean im not about to take off my clothes because some car has its headlight out, its so stupid!” Well put Bethany! I commend you, well said.

Something else that I love is the complete sped that works at Wendy’s. He asks, “Dining Room?”

I answer “What?”

He says again “Dining Room?”

I say “You mean am I eating it in here?”

He again says “Dining Room?”

I then reply “WHat the hell is the dining room?”

He answered “Dining Room?”

Now some of you are thinking, what a terrible not funny joke. This actually happened, I swear to fago pop, and from the best of my knowledge he was NOT retarded. There is no “Dining Room” in wendy’s, it’s WENDY’S, not a restaurant, a fast food chain. “Dining Room,” HA! I laugh. After we finally got it straight that I would be eating it in the building I totally confused him on a very simple order; needless to say I hate fast food and I’ll be back again far sooner than I can possibly hope.

Here’s another idiot. The guy that talks to you while you are trying to work out. I can barely breath, but with that last breath I have he feels it necessary for me to use it on answering his question what “what are you up to?”

” Well I’m trying to lift weight right now and manage my oxygen accordingly.” I could obviously not get that off so I merely answered “Nothin.” With an undertoned “idiot.” What the hell do you think I’m doing here? Well like laying on this thing that looks like a bench, holding a bar with weight on either side of it, So I’m obviously purchased a tub of jam, NEVER ask me what I’m doing again old guy who is trying to be nice and doing a bad job of it.

I also enjoy the people that ask how you are when you are just doing a “walking hello.” There is no intention of stopping to talk, so that question along with “what’s up?” Becomes completely rhetorical because the person obviously isnt waiting for a responce. SO dont ask a question if you dont mean to talk to someone, real easy, simple, saves a little time, try it out.

NExt up who made the people at the Walmart PhotoShop the kings of the universe. I mean honestly it’s like Im burdening them so much to just open a droor and give me my photos that they undoubtedly went through and made copies of. They wear stupid lab coats such as that could be seen on a scientist or other medical degree carrying specialist. They have their own little island in the middle of the electronics where they can sit and gawk at peoples personal photos all day. They also give the other employess these looks like “You wish you were in the photo island, Im about to develope some film, is that ok with you? That’s good because I was going to do it anyway.” Oh how I loathe the Picture People.

Im adding this late, but I need to write about this. The public transit bus people are all total chodes. DuFast transit is to transportation as a gunshot is to my kneecap. I was driving my car and one was coming down the road, and there was a truck in front of it. On this road only one car can go at a time because of people parked on the side (I have a problem with this too, but that’s for another time). The truck notices me coming, pulls over, but I had to stop until the bus pulled over. Instead of pulling over the bus desides to pass the truck and nearly ram into me head on. I had to back my car into an alley as quickly as I could to prevent a collision.

After the bus, going about 40 mph hitting the gap between me and a parked car went past; the female driver gave me some thing with her hands and a dirty look. “Oh im so sorry for trying to drive down the road when I have the right away, have fun driving a public bus for the rest of your life.”

Well, it’s about 2:33 A.M. so the last half of this probably didnt make sense like the much fabled after Idiots v2. ANyway thanks for reading and as long as there are idiots I’ll be there to expose their imcompetence with a bravado and machismo that can only be found in one such as The Ry-man.

Idiots v6

Yeah I wish there wouldn’t be enough for me to write up six whole editorials on things I hate, but no, this world is nothing but a den of idiots and retards.

Oh I am sorry, I used the term “retard” which isn’t right as was pointed out today by my Theology teacher. We were “circling,” which is essentially her pushing her theological views on you, which I think, is super (Psyche, 80’s style). I mentioned while she was talking about how terrible a person President Bush (But in this case she used Governor Bush) was, for executing so many people, and I decided to interrupt and add “Well we can’t fry retards in Texas anymore.” God forbid I say the word retard in front of that woman, she then attempted to look offended (I’ll assume she herself is a retard then) and then began to prattle on about how in High school they would make fun of each other by calling each other retards, and how it wasn’t right. I decided to add, “If they’re retarded they wont know the difference.” This made things worse, I then was taught a valuable lesson: never steal a clown’s nose, but that’s for another time.

Anyway this my friends, is pro-life week, uh month too I guess, also Mary’s month, but May is really Mary’s month; Seems a little too much like black history month huh? popping up every other month. I know what you are all saying; “Ryan you are so racist, sexist, close minded, and ignorant.” At least I don’t have to agree with myself.

I don’t want to get ahead of myself yet, I still want to talk about pro-life week, and I can say I, myself, am pro-life. I’ll give you my logic on it. Instead of putting people to death make them work hard labor until they die, and look, oh no! We get things done, that’s not the American way, no not at all. (That wasn’t sarcasm it really isn’t the American way, we are a nation of slackers and incompetent buffoons living off my money via the US government.)

I’m now going to explain how I might not be pro-life. I say we get rid of nearly all well fair except for the elderly, people needing medicine, or people that need supplies for young children, that’s it. You then ask me, what happens to the rest of the people, Ryan? Well I’m going to impose a new Political tactic, which is called “Weeding out the population.” Since the people who are too stupid or worthless to get a job don’t deserve to eat, I say we don’t postpone the inevitable, and let them get a job, do something worthwhile or die. Simple as that, have a problem, take it up with my secretary of labor and welfare whenever I rule the world.

Next you might ask yourself, Ryan, why are you so angry. Well for one, a tiny bug was just crawling on my hand, and now it disappeared. Aside from that I’m talking to someone and they just called a type of hot wing “The Shit.” I Understand that this is supposed to mean good, but shit is bad, and if wings taste like shit, I don’t want them, think of a new adjective such as savory, or good. Another option could be, ta-da! Look at a dictionary or thesaurus, idiot.

I’m going to go ahead and sum up school as a total cesspool. By the time 5 period roles around I am already completely infuriated by the stupidity of my “peers” dare I call them that. I absolutely love whenever I’m trying to actually do something in school, perhaps, I don’t know, learn, or do something productive (god forbid) and they decide to start up a completely asinine conversation with me. I will now give an example.

“Hey Ryan…whatcha doing?”
“Writing.”
“How come?”
“Probably because this is composition class and I know how to read and write – double threat.”
“Your mom is pretty hot”
“Oh man did you just come up with that one? You should write that down I don’t think that anyone has ever referenced another persons mom in a joke before, how innovative.”
“huh”
“Do you know what the sound of your own arm breaking is like?” After that they usually take the hint and turn around or go back to another equally pointless conversation, just as long as it isn’t around me.

Anyway I’m going to go ahead and go on a whim as is my fashion as of late (Bob has reminded me I am running out of whims, so I have to use them wisely) but on this whim I’m going to go ahead and say whoever made the slogan “taste the possibilities… join the club!” for club crackers is an idiot. I mean doesn’t the slogan “as refreshing as hit in the stomach by a policeman’s baton after an all night drug binge and looting spree” sound about three hundred times better? Honestly. I should be marketing this stuff.

Eh, I’m done, so for now that’s another idiots, hope you had fun, I know I did.

Idiots v7

Ah, my torch burns bright tonight, the reason: I am using a fuel named society. This will be fun tonight.

Couple things on my mind tonight, first I did a “patron” drive today, for those that do not know what I’m talking about I shall now elaborate, then explain why I am writing about it.

A patron drive is when the seniors of my high school go out and get people to give us money in exchange for an ad in our yearbook. I know if I were a business I sure as hell wouldn’t give any money. Anyway when entering the building it should go a little something like this. “Hello, I’m from Central Catholic High school and I’m here about the ad in the yearbook.”

Then the receptionist says “alright here is the paper you sent to us on a previous date with which I fully looked over and filled out, and here is your money. Thank you.”

I think that happened once out of 13 times for my group. My favorite is where the older, hard of hearing gentleman at the V.F.W. deciding to help me out. After yelling my opening line three times, he caught on a proceeded to let me know that I should come back on the 13th of the next month at 7 pm. What the hell IS the VFW? Sounds like a meeting of the midnight society on Nickelodeon. It’s like I’m really going to show up in a month to go to a meeting so they can give me 30 bucks for a damned ad in the yearbook. Then I just took a pen out of my pocket, bit the lid off, threw it, and started screaming, they scrambled to the ground and I had a chance to walk out.

I also enjoyed the people who have bought ads in the yearbook for the past however many years and are astonished at the price of this form of advertisement. I think if you’re a business you can spare 30 American dollars in order to have an ad that will show up in the high school, middle school, and elementary yearbooks; I could be wrong. It was as if I hiked the price on them because I really wanted to pick up a dime bag on my way back to the school and with the extra money they so foolishly wrote on a check that isn’t made out to me, I’ll go ahead and do that…. I guess?

Another thing that came to happen today is I not officially hate chiropractors, before it was a theory that if I actually came across any I wouldn’t care for them, but now it’s certain. Acting all big and tough, damn receptionist, trying to “shut us down” hard to do that when I don’t really care, but she creeped me out, which stunned me until I left the building. Therefore not being able to ask her how it feels being a crook, chiropractors don’t do shit -thought she might want to know that.

Recently my theology teacher, who has popped up in various idiots I believe gave us a paper to do for a week before the end of the quarter (yesterday). She told us about it on the first day of school, I of coarse wasn’t paying attention and last week when I asked her what it had to be on, she decided to not answer me, because she is a big bad, no degree holding theology teacher -that’s why. Then she asks us what we were doing it on, I still didn’t know what we had to do so when she came to me I said “I don’t know.” keep in mind this is a week ago, and then with her big authoritive theology voice she reminds me that it has to be 3 pages double spaced, I decided to note “Yeah, that should take about twenty minutes,” verbally, to myself. Loud enough for her to hear of course. I mean how will I ever fill an entire page and a half of size 12 font? Heavens batman that will take months of research and preparation, or as I said a good twenty minutes and a summarized biography of Dorothy Day.

A couple good friends of mine, the people at the jewelry store in the mall who under any circumstance ask if I’m 18, because they want me to buy a credit card from them, or sign up for one. They should know by now that I’m not, even though I look 22. I often, (I didn’t tonight) drag it on, by asking questions like, “Why?”

“Because if you sign up from a credit card now it won’t cost you anything and we have a quota to fill.” Replies the savvy and always consumer minded employee.

“So I would be wasting my time, because I don’t intend on buying any jewelry, ever.”

“Well just fill one out.”

“I’m not 18, can’t.” Then they pretend to not believe me, then I decide to whip out my driver’s license proudly displaying that I am, in fact, under 18. I’m not sure if they care, but it makes me feel good about myself.

I don’t know if I have mentioned this before, if so, and you begin to remember parts of this story just skip the next couple paragraphs. But the last three times that I was in footlocker I have been verbally assaulted in someway, all my fault but, I haven’t been back in there for close to two years now. I will now explain why, the first time, I was verbally assaulted. They had a sale in big letters, and that’s all the writing that was on the sign, it said “Buy one item, get the second one half off.” So I told the gentleman working that I have chosen to buy a shoelace for my first item, and a one hundred dollar pair of shoes for my second. He for some reason took a personal offence to this and with a raised tone pointed out that the first item has to be the more expensive of the two. He then added a couple other comments (this happened approximately over two years ago, I can’t remember all that was said), but I left footlocker with a feeling of un-satisfaction, I returned two more times in the months to follow, and situations much like this one happened, it started with me purposely misreading something and then the person getting angry at me and me leaving swearing to never return again. I then walk out into the corridor of the mall outside footlocker and loudly explain to myself, “well footlocker sucks pretty bad,” and nod to people that heard me.

Yeah I’m done, you saying but there wasn’t anything about Bob making love to any prostitutes, what gives? I’ll tell you what gives, well I don’t know, but you know and I know what he’s been up to in his spare time so we’ll leave it at that.

Idiots v8

On Thursday this past week I worked in the mall at a place called “The Jerky Hut.” This is something I have wanted to do for quite some time now. For the shear novelty of myself selling jerky in the mall. I loved it. For the equivalent to one hour of “work” I was paid three large jerky sticks, I was paid in jerky….GOLD. Wow it was fantastic. JERKY. Yeah.

Anyway last night I had another odd job -working at the annual charity ball, oh yeah. Glamour was the word, not tipping the guy holding the door open for my over indulgent self was the phrase, and if there were an official shrewd remark of the night it was be “screw the douche at the door.”

Now I will give a disclaimer, the rest of this idiots will be completed with myself on NyQuil, so I suspect the integrity and whatever else is going to quickly dissipate as the editorial goes on.

Onward with the fantastic, whimsical and magical night last night. Not only did we get to hold the door for people at temperatures below 10 degrees but also we were lucky enough to listen to all of their stupid inane problems and “witty” comments. “Fancy shoes,” was flattering for the first part of the night but as the night went on it turned into an insult for some reason. Around 6 p.m. everyone that showed up obviously didn’t get out much -hence showing up early for a social event, then as the night went on the attendants grew even more belligerent and drunk. It went from “Nice,” or “Fancy” shoes to “Your letting the hot air out.” From that comment spurred a phrase in my head I had heard several times before, it goes a little something like this, “Burn the rich, keep warm” -in that order.

OH and the grand entrances by those who thought they were oh so superior to me and my fellow colleagues showing up in such coveted vehicles as the minivan, which sources tell me, drive like a car, yeah, a car, but it’s a fricken van, I know. Another popular car among the neavo rich was the small sport utility all the luxury and class of a more expensive and fairly common on in a tiny, unsafe package. I was obviously salivating, some would pretend to let us valet park the car, and get back in laughing, as I sobbed, for it has been my life’s work to prepare myself to drive their shitty suv.

Upon entering we were totally ignored except by a few people, which were nice enough to talk to us, because, guess what, they weren’t total douche bags. Hard to believe, I know, people talking to the volunteer help, as they were actual people.

Our “boss” I use the term loosely, because whenever you have some who is your “boss,” you are usually getting paid, and they usually make contact with you more than just the first time you talk to them, and sometimes introduce themselves, which was far too time consuming for our “boss” because she cut all of that out. I felt lucky to be almost talked to by her, what with her Duran Duran black and white strapless suit that she couldn’t barely pull off. Also the straggly straight comb down hair look must be in, because she was sporting it, and too good to talk to me, so she should know better than I? Also she was supposed to give us a “board” as she explained to sort the keys for valet parking, she of course never spoke to us again, and the board maintains it’s mystery and enigmatic charisma, “what does the board look like?” “Is it real?” “I heard it was a myth.”

After awhile Brian and I walked in to the party looking for food, drinks, salvation. We found partly drunk middle aged men and women dancing to what I believe was poor 80’s music being played by a band that looked like flock of seagulls exploded and was dipped into pretzel batter, smothered in butter and salt, then cut into bits, burned, painted different colors, and sold as an ash tray by an Indian off the interstate at the “family business” (orange stand).

Then the party began, oh wait, before that, did I mention the heat stopped working, and they wouldn’t bring any of the portable heaters into the room we had to stay in to see if people were coming to open the door? No? Well yeah, no heat, big fun, no feeling, no drugs, must be frostbite.

Brian and I finally found chicken, but the only plates they had had about a 6” diameter, which fit, sooo much food, we made great piles of chicken and returned them to Carl to be eaten and enjoyed, they were, and there was much rejoicing. Then the homeless guy woke up, looked at us, looked up at the moon, and a single tear drop feel from his eye, this was heaven, welcome, the chicken is free, and the ignorant aristocracy rule, chicks drink for free.

I can’t believe people drink 7up, whatever taste it does have, is bad, and it only goes well with sprite, because they taste similar. Stop drinking it, and maybe they will make a blue or red sprite that tastes good.

So I was talking to this guy at the party, he started off with “I was driving my motorcycle through Europe,” he also made points on “Two girls from Belgium,” and meeting a guy in “Paris.” Brian looked at me and said, “He is like James Bond,” we just went to go see the new one, I agreed, he’s my new hero, I want to be him.

Also, in the Austin Powers movies he says “Judo Chop,” and chops people rendering them unconscious, but in Judo there is no hitting or chopping, essentially it is a paradox unless a person named Judo “Chopped” something, they we could say, “Look at ‘Judo Chop’ that thing.” Then the Chinese girls cover their mouth and giggle, and I take a sip of my tea, look to judo, nod, and then the camera does a close-up of my face slowly growing closer until you see the inside of my eye while a weird Chinese lady sings some stupid song you can’t understand. Then it cuts to a red light blinking and the movie is over, leaving you to wonder, like you are now, “what the hell just happened.” You shake your head, wonder if you should laugh, and continue reading.

A red light starts blinking.

Idiots v9

***Disclaimer, due to graphic depictions and strong language children under 17 not advised to read.

Well sometimes I run low on ideas for the site, I try to think of the next thing I’m going to do, will I add on to anything, like I said I would, also will I try this time? Well your answer there is no, but I do in fact hate, sooo much crap that I am able to write one of these anytime I’m suffering from sleep deprivation and a little NyQuil in me. Tonight is that night, I’m not angry per se, but I can fake it pretty well.

Topic number one, the lines at the DMV aren’t that long. Bob and I had this conversation; we really can’t relate to any comedian, I would say, ever. The process was relatively quick, barring a few stupid comments that I’m sure he tells every day and as the day goes on it gets funnier, but that’s it, I was in and out pretty much. So I don’t know where the big wait is really? Me taking the test was the longest part and that was all my fault there, albeit them asking me to turn my lights on was pretty stupid but besides that they did what needed be done.

Next up, now why do people think it’s really funny to yell some things? I mean I know that elevating your voice seems like quite the comedic coup on my senses but stop for like 3 seconds and think about what you look like. You make me hate everything, everything, even if it’s something I love, hearing you yell about it with idiots that don’t care makes me hate you, and the thing you are talking about.

Anyway I got myself one of those fancy little digital cameras which are *gasp* the size of a credit card. Oh yeah, “Indoors? Don’t Stress. With Autobrite, you can capture bright lights and dim details, so you always see the whole picture.” By that, they mean the whole blurry picture, screw you Logitech, I liked you, I want to like you why wont you let me like you? Why? I mean sure I drive a focus, it’s no mustang or anything but it gets me around damn it, I might not be too great at sports, but I get nervous you know that, remember that one time at the tire swing Logitech, you were all like “Promise me this”

And then I was like “Anything Logitech.”

And then you were all like “Promise that no matter what happens you’ll always keep this night with you, the lilly pond, the frogs, the ice cream, old jack wailen’s fireworks, and us watching the sun come up under this tree.”

“I promised that night Logitech, We promised, did you forget the promise under that willow tree so many years ago?”

Yeah…so now that I might have made you feel awkward, just by reading that, imagine us sitting in a room. Alone, very bright lights and tacky furniture, and I’m staring at you, that should complete the moment.

Wouldn’t you think trail mix would have meat in it? I mean what “trails men” made this up? And whoever it was what was he thinking?

Well I have along day of killing Indians; I better start it off with raisons, nuts, and some M & M’s, those yellers won’t see what hit em. Really now.

Well I’m angry now, nothing like bad news to get me writing a good “idiots.” I also sort of have a head ache, I never get head aches but sometimes I get real angry and it can’t escape onto this form fast enough and explores other means I suppose, such as, the sides and top of my head.

Anyway, I’m listening to Rammstein and thinking about what a terrible idea the snow saucer is, what the hell? 3 inches down the hill you are backwards. Good design, sure they are inexpensive but how hard is it to put little crevices that let you go down the hill straight is it? OH WAIT IT ISN’T, SCREW YOU KMART SCREW YOU.

SO then I was all like K’Mart, or “BIG F’n K,” whatever, your saucer sleds suck, you can go straight to hell, backwards for 3/4 the way, see how you like it you big red son of a bitch.

So then I punch Big K right in its stupid head and put it on a crystal sail boat and put it in the middle of a sea of stars. It slowly drifted along that sea for many years and then I found it right were I left it many years after that and with my great fist I brought down unto it great vengeance and furious anger with which I used to cast out the K and I allowed only a male and female to survive so that they may pass their story of the sea onto it’s generations so that they will not make the same mistake. That is how much I hate K (ghetto) Mart.

I also realized why I have been in a drought lately I have been relatively happy, I am of course no longer, because I think I like being upset more than not I don’t know I enjoy conflict, and that’s why I’m going to issue a list of people, and things I want them to change to make me happy. That wouldn’t piss anyone off I’m sure because everyone is perfect, according to them, “I’m an individual.”

Yes, a stupid individual and everything that makes you unique repulses the rest of the world and it’s not cool to hold on so tightly to something you know to be odd just to have it, let it go, join the crowd, if “everyone” likes it there is a good reason you’ll like at least some of it, we as humans aren’t too different from one another and once the world’s weirdo furries and Goth poets figure that out we can live relatively happily. Punks you say you hate us because we are all the same, look at all of your “punk friends” they look the exact same as you, just most of the world likes being clean, so your the minority, if you were the majority and therefore what is “cool” you would then like it, so screw you, you whiny punk bitch.

I don’t know if you have noticed but I refuse to use the “f” word on the site, I think it maintains a level of family and credibility on the site, I don’t know, most of the curse words or whatever else I use you can find on cable I’m sure, so stop whining I don’t care what you think, or if I use the word “gay” don’t be offended *cough* fair weather revolutionary, get a life and stop trying to find things to be offended by. Furthermore being gay isn’t a more diverse world, it is a less diverse world, being bi-sexual is the most diverse world, then being straight, and then gay is in dead last, think about it for two seconds and you’ll figure that out, because you like the same thing as what you ARE, no diversity at all.

“Ryan you can’t say that.” I can say what I want, I can express my views this is a private website, if you don’t like what I have to say, read bob’s stuff, it’s better than mine anyways, and he is more socially conscious than I am, you wont be quite as offended.

WELL that’s about all I have at the moment. I’ll leave you with this, hoping to not be too preachy but for those of you worrying about reaching heaven, a little bit of it reaches you everyday, it’s your responsibility to realize that and utilize the time you have. Every second you waste, and even the time you wasted reading this you will never have back. If there is something you want to do, do it now don’t calculate the consequences if you stop to do that, you waste time, and you forget the funniest part is the way there, it doesn’t matter, you can’t second guess how to live you life. Furthermore I purposely put some grammatical errors in here because I think some things just sound better, so screw you. Peace friends.

Love Speech

My part of the speech has to do with the things I have tried for dating, while on a date, stalking, or admiring.

One of my personal favorite things to do to let the girl know I like her is by circling her neighborhood in my car, 30 to 40 times a night going about 15 mph. While passing in front of her house, or any of her relatives houses I just lay on the horn, and glare at them, because I know they are looking at me through their blinds, always looking, always judging.

I have yet to get a girl this way, but if it works for you then by all means use it. Now sometimes the father, noticing that the daughter obviously is attracted to you he might ask you to stop doing it. Remind him that if he ever comes near your car again you’ll burn his damn house down.

Another thing I like to do is make my own trance music by chanting my soon to be lovers name on all of the tracks. Then I burn the CD and place it in her locker, on her door step, and in her backpack…somewhere she’ll see it. I like to do this everyday for at least two years, just to let the bait out, and prepare to reel her in! Hook line and sinker my friends.

If this isn’t your style another thing girls like is when you stare at them when your in the same room, and when they notice, don’t stop staring, I call that my laser of love, girls cant resist it. Also if you want to add a touch of class I suggest wetting your lips and humming a single note at her.

The way I met my first wife, by wife I mean prison sentence, I had stole her pets and replaced them with me. Apparently jumping at a woman in the dark when she enters her house isn’t a good first impression, but I’m damned if I didn’t try.

If you’re looking to find a quick fix up maybe you should try changing the song about sitting in a tree to your names and quietly whispering it to her, but when she asked what you said, just say “nothing” and continue whispering. Softly, Slowly. Under your breath.

I’m going to run your through a normal date for the Ryan

I usually show up at the lucky ladies house 3 to 4 hours early because I hadn’t slept the night before in anticipation

So I’m usually asked to wait outside until they get ready. This usually lasts until the next day then when she reaches out to grab the newspaper -Thinking I’ve left- huh uh

I then grab her arm and offer to come into her house. She usually agrees. I’m usually offered electronics and or money so I don’t hurt them, apparently they’ve seen, they’ve heard, they know.

After that I usually “crash” at their house for a few days, just to get comfortable. The girls really seem to love it. Now here’s a warning for you guys, if she ever offers to call the cops, tell her that everything is fine, and that you’ll kill her cat if she picks up the damn phone.

After awhile I usually head home, check my messages and prepare for another night of mischief.

Roomate

My speech ties into a few others, it has to do with keeping your roommate, or roommates out of your stuff. I know that the first thing that comes into my mind when I hear dorm is “thieves.” Same goes for college kids.

I am going to briefly go over a psychological approach to keeping your roommate out of your stuff. During so I will pass a helpful pamphlet around to give you kids a good visual of what you can do.

One thing you could do is burn yourself right in front of them, pretend to enjoy it, and tell them that you don’t understand why something that hurts so much feels so good.

Another thing you could try is sharpening your vast array of steak knives behind their head while they try to sleep while humming lullabies to them. They might not like you but they damn well better respect you.

I also like to use extortion to get my way. For example if they don’t comply with several of your demands begin to remove safety parts from their vehicles, such as bicycle reflectors and such.

Since I enjoy technology I’m going to go more in depth with some more advanced steps that are now available to help safeguard your possessions while you look at the handouts I made.

Nowadays everyone in college has either a laptop or a computer in their dorm room. Also in your dorm room there is a couple beds a couple desks and one drug abusing thief.

In order to keep them from your laptop you could easily purchase a Biometric authenticator. More commonly known as a fingerprint scanner.

Where Biometrics – is the identification of individuals using biological traits, such as those based on retinal or iris scanning, fingerprints, or face recognition.

How this works is wherever you are asked to place your password into somewhere you simply place your finger on to the biometric authenticator wait approximately a second for it to make a positive id and you are free to enter if you are a match.

The Biometric Authenticator I found simply connects to any computer via USB (Universal Serial Bus), with itself being a 2 port USB hub. So no worry of running out of USB ports. Not only is this a relatively safe way to guard your things it is only 119.99 on www.thinkgeek.com

Next an even more simple way to safeguard your computer, it is called the Securikey Authentication System. If you have ever read anything in your life or used a car you will be able to operate this system.

This computer simply uses the USB port which is commonly found on the front of most new PC’s and a key chain. If you’re a girl you might want to fill that key chain up with any stupid key chain accessory with the words “princess,” “queen,” or “whatever” to keep it inconspicuous.

Alls that happens is similar to the Biometric Authenticator. To access the computer you need only place the SecuriKey Token into the USB port and like in a car once the key is in the ignition the car is ready to go, same goes for the computer. This goes for around 129.99 on www.thinkgeek.com.

Our next gizmo that can be used for safety is the fun and affordable Snap Digital Mini Camera. It measures in at a mere 2 inches by 2 inches allowing easy concealment.

To help safeguard your computer you need only mediocre computer skills and a little imagination. To keep watch over your computer while your gone simply connect this tiny computer to your USB port and hide it somewhere your roommate wont see it, being sure to have it pointed at whatever you don’t want your roommate stealing for hash money.

Then if you plan things out right you need only set up a live feed from your computer, making sure to take note of you internal and external IP numbers as well as your DNS.

Once you have this set up install “pcanywhere” which can be found for free at download.com, connect to a computer in the library at school or wherever use the software you set up and connect to a live feed of the camera.

You may also choose to save what the camera watches to disk to use as evidence in a court of law. Making sure to tell your roommate that they may be videotaped while you leave the room, they probably won’t take you seriously and agree.

To get this project up and running it should cost you an estimated 50 dollars on www.thinkgeek.com with shipping and handling, the cheapest of the three methods we have went over but also the most hassle and perhaps the least safe.

If it isn’t safety your concerned with you can use this to videotape your coed roommates in the shower and sell it to middle aged men on commercial at 4 in the morning.

The last piece of technology I’m going to go over is the most expensive, but also the most secure (you get what you pay for).

This is also a Biometric system but instead of using your fingerprints it actually scans your iris, I’ll save you the details and say that is works anytime you would use the first biometric authenticator but instead of putting your finger onto a sensitive pad you simply look into a tiny camera.

The human iris is absolutely unique, even between twins or an individual’s right and left eyes. So if you get this your pretty safe even from your twin, or your damned right eye. This will cost you a little over 200 dollars if you factor in shipping and handling.

In closing the key to keeping your roommate out of your stuff is the use of overly complicated technical devices or scare tactics; you’re free to pick one or the other, or mix the two.

Thank you.

Adventures in Showerland

Shawntel is a member of the community in the shower. His friend Emilio is a can of shaving cream, he has two other friends as well; Cornelius the conditioner, and Safe guard the bar of soap.

They all belong to a secret cult filled with craft, drugs, and sexual experimentation.

One day Shawntel, coming down off a frightening coke buzz was surprised by me. Upon smothering my head with shampoo, it lost its lather all too quickly. At that moment the shampoo and me looked at each other, Shawntel started crying and we both knew that he needed help.

After a week or two in the Betty ford clinic Shawntel checked himself out to go back to his old habits. Taking hits of crank off the back of filthy geisha whores and attending his cult meetings. So not knowing what else to do, I kicked him out of the shower.

Then I saw him sitting on the street one day. He was covered with newspaper and beef jerky- he had tried to make clothing for himself to keep warm.

I saw in his hand he had a spoon that had been sharpened to make a shank. Like the kind you might find in prison. So I said to him “Shawntel, let me help you.”

Then he looked up at me nozzle open, and said “You take another step and I’ll shove this spoon in your goddamned eye.” After saying this Shawntel went into spasms and I took him to the hospital. Once there I held his hand until he came to.

The morning after he woke up, and was scared, he had no idea how he had got there, and couldn’t remember much of the last two weeks. I then explained to him what had happened and that he could live in the shower again until he could get back on his feet and find a job. I also told him that I would help keep him from Emilio, Cornelius, and Safeguard the bar of soap so that he wouldn’t keep the cycle spinning.

He was released that day. So after he was released I offered him a ride to the house, he obliged. On the home we lit up a fatty bo batty blunt and cruised in my 1987 Chrysler Le Baron.

Upon returning from the short stay at the hospital I found my shower had been turned to shambles. There were rusty razor blades lying around, Geisha whores walking about in an all too familiar daytime malaise, and a trail of heated spoons and crank leading to Safeguard the bar of soap and several dead prostitutes.

The first thing I did when I saw this was roll safeguard the bar of soap onto his side. Then came the all too familiar task of disposing of dead hookers. I decided to cut them into little hooker pieces. Next I began a night ritual of feeding several hooker pieces to the neighbor’s dogs and keeping the additional morsels in the industrial size “hooker” freezer in my basement that I had previously filled with saw dust.

After several hours Safeguard the bar of soap woke up, crying and clawing at the base of my shower. I closed the curtains and washed my hands.

I wasn’t sure quite how to deal with this I couldn’t believe that the same soap that has kept me so clean in the past could have gotten himself into all of this filth. Each day thereafter led me to a new clue about the life of Safeguard the bar of soap.

He was involved in underground dogfights. They called him “The wham” there and he was always known for his cool demeanor and steady hand. He was a renowned pimp always knowing when to smack a hoe for not acting right or when they didn’t know how to listen. He owned a pair of real Oakley sunglasses, the ones you buy at American eagle at the store, they weren’t any kind of cheap sunglasses.

The deeper I sunk into his mind the more I wanted to get out, the more I tried though, the harder it got. Turns out he has a family still waiting for him back in Wyoming. He apparently fled after one of his underground milliner rings got busted up by the feds.

After all but too much information on Safeguard the bar of soap came up I told him that it would be best if he just went ahead and left the shower, I had helped him out enough so far and he left one hooker too many hookers dead.

Days went by and still no word from Safeguard the bar of soap, I was almost certain to find his name in the paper under obituaries.

Until one day, there was a rapping at my door. It was Safeguard the bar of soap, he had come back. He had nothing but a handkerchief and a mans left shoe on his person.

He explained to me how he would donate blood 2 or 3 times a day for the cookie and 15 dollars, an that for a quick fix and 5 bucks he would rub up against any man lonely enough to pay the price.

I could tell, the little inner bevel of “Safeguard” was nearly worn off, he’d had a hard couple of days, and so I let him in. I felt so foolish for letting this thing back into my house, but I entertained myself with the thought he might have changed. Hopefully he has.

The next day, feeling a little better having two of my little guys back at home and doing well we all went to the zoo for a day of fun.

So we all loaded into my primo 1987 Chrysler Le Baron and headed towards the zoo, with aspirations high, and the Wham! cranked even higher. Nothing could go wrong.

When we got there we decided to visit the bear cage. It was totally lame so we smothered the bars in savory Maple Syrup and waited for the bears to lick the bars. When they did start licking the bars we shot rubber bands at their eyes.

Then in the confusion Shawntel thought Cornelius stole his wallet. So I went over to see what was the matter, Shawntel explained what happened and then we found his wallet was in his back pocket the whole time. Then Shawntel shanked Cornelius right in the stomach, and screamed “Who’s better now, WHO’S better NOW!?”

Then Shawntel shanked some weird out of place guy with a top hat on in the kidneys and ran towards the monkey cages. In the heat of the moment I forgot to check on Cornelius and weird out of place guy with the top hat on. Cornelius was bleeding pretty badly, I could tell, from the way he was bleeding, badly. I didn’t much care for the weird out of place guy, because if anything he is just making this story worse.

I called 9-1-1 and told them I had some conditioner here at the zoo and it was bleeding quite badly and to send help. I then left Cornelius with the trained professionals and went after Shawntel.

I searched everywhere for him, but he was hiding somewhere, scared and lost. I finally found him hiding beneath a great oak tree. When I reached him I asked what that was all about.

He explained a feeling of being lost, he was afraid; he thought that I liked Cornelius better than him. On top of that I could tell he’d been doing the crank again, I just took him into my arms and held him. He sobbed loudly into my bosom and then I remembered Cornelius lying on the pavement, so I hurried back to see how he was doing. Turns out nothing serious was wrong and that he we in fact, going to be ok. I was relieved to say the least.

I helped Cornelius to his feet and told him how happy I was to see he was all right. We started walking back to the car figuring we’d been at the zoo long enough by then.

Then in a split second two things happened, I remembered Shawntel and Shawntel appeared behind us.

Cornelius and me just looked at him, and Shawntel offered a hand in friendship to Cornelius. Cornelius, hesitant at first took awhile to offer his hand.

After Cornelius’ hand was fully extended in peace Shawntel took his hand, gave it a good shake, then drew Cornelius close to himself, whispered something in his ear and laid a blow of his shank into Cornelius’ stomach again. Shawntel then twisted his shank and gave a smirk to Cornelius’ blank and shocked face. Cornelius fell to the ground. He was dead.

Emilio who had been quiet the whole time stepped out from behind me. Look at Shawntel and said “Shove this in your goddamned eye,” and fired two shots at him, one nicking his nozzle, the other hitting him square in the shoulder laying him onto the ground.

I took a step back, felt dizzy, and fell to the ground.

I woke up to find myself surrounded by people. It turned out I had been black jacked and knocked out by the weird guy with a top hat that doesn’t really fit in the story.

Apparently he was hiding behind the Orange Julius stand, and with his last breath managed to knock Emilio and myself out. He then died; he was lying beside me, along with Shawntel, Emilio, and Cornelius’ lifeless body.

Shanwtel turned out to be alive but in critical condition.

We all decided to visit him at the hospital; we wanted most just to find out what made him do that.

When we entered the intensive care room that he was staying in he was sleeping and his chest still seemed to be leaking shampoo. Luckily it seemed the alpha hydroxyl protein was clotting the hole and the bleeding had at least slowed down.

As soon as I got near his bed, he woke up. He greeted us in a tired voice. He was heavily sedated with different medicines to help the pain.

We just all looked at each other and a single tear dripped down his cheek. He explained to us he was shooting up in the bathroom every night and he was never completely clean. He then promised to never let himself get like that again and use only weed, brandy, and snacks to fill the empty voids in his life from now on.

Morning started off the same way that it always does, I was taking a shower and talking to all my friends. Things were slightly awkward since we were all mourning the death of Cornelius still.

Emilio brought up that the west side sinks were closing in on the shower and suggested that the community in the shower form a gang. I said it sounded like a good idea and further suggested they should draw lines and get a couple of guns.

After a week or two the there were clear gang lines drawn and there had been at least two gang related gunfights, and two unconfirmed kills.

Then after a month the two groups organized and made two warring crime families. They then began to control different fascets of life in the greater Dubois area. The Sink Family seemed to be more interested in high speed internet access and technology based roles while the Shower Family stuck mostly with construction and endeauvers of that nature.

I will now explain the role of comman for out friends in the shower. The Don of the family being Safeguard the bar of soap, because he is the key component to any successful shower.

The assassin or right hand man of the group being Shawntel, because of his proviciency with crude weaponry and small arms fire. His sidekick being Emilio, as you have seen in the papers is a relatively calm conditioner, but when angry cannot only soften, but also repair damaged strands of hair.

A new friend to the shower, Simian the sharper image shaving mirror is the eyes and eyes of the operation, not only does he magnify, but when he gets fogged up, a little bit of warm water runs on the inside of him and he clears right up.

After the roles had been set each member of the community was made to enter through an initiation process in order to confirm loyalty to the Family.

In the first part of the initiation the member is required to deal any amount of lasting damage to the sink. Shawntel decided to “burn their goddamned houses down.” So he started a fire in my drawer that I had to quickly put out, the other members followed in uniform to his masterpiece of arson. The other parts of the initiation are confidential.

So far there are only several members from the sink family that have been identified. Slim Jim the toothebrush and Antonio the tube of colgate toothepaste are always downtown looking for action.

Then on a Thursday afternoon Slim Jim bumped into Shawntel at the fish market. Shawntel quickly confronted him and Slim Jim retaliated by pulling out his 9mm.

Shawntel staired back, Jim started to sweat. Shawntel kept still.

Jim lost his nerve and choked on a tear, in that second Shanwtel drew his shotgun and put a couple hundred pieces of shrapnel into Jim’s stomach. He was still alive though, barely, so Shawntel walked over to him and placed his fingers into his stomach and with the blood still dripping wrote “shower” onto his forehead. Shawntel stayed their, stooped over him and watched Jim die.

With that the great Shower and Sink family battle was born in blood.

School Retreats

Wow, nothing better than a day away from classes you say, yet a still perfectly accountable day at school. What could go wrong? A school retreat that’s what. Having go to a Catholic School our retreats or as some may know them as field trips were Jesus oriented.

I’m not Satan, yet, but really now. At the beginning we always take time to learn everyone’s name, which is hard I have only went to school with most of the people for close to 11 years and having classes of upwards of 60 people, that can just be confusing; for an idiot.

After learning everyone’s names that we already know there is always a mind captivating activity with the always-underlined moral behind it. Such as stupid puzzles hanging on a wall. With which I chose to misinterpret intentionally just to irritate the retreat manager, whom is usually some odd church go-er hoping to find their place in the world or something to do after their crack fiend children move out.

After my faked dyslexic disorder the leader had identified me as a “real joker.” Idiot. After that we have some me-time, a little time for us to fill out a paper on whether we find “Pepsi Parties” cool or not. Oh you ask what a Pepsi Party is…I did the same thing, apparently it’s a hip way to say swingin’ party, minus the brewskies. After tallying up my answers it appears that I need to pray more or something, because I cant worship God with baggy pants on or something like that.

Another situation I was put in during a retreat is we had to make name tags, and we got to decorate them. After doing one of the given papers to see where I fit into society and how wrong I am I saw one of the answers as being “Mr. Super Cool,” as a way to describe yourself I’m presuming. Inevitably I decided to put that on my nametag. Doing this comes in handy a little later during this specific retreat, which I will now elaborate upon.

After several disappointingly cliché activities that insulted my freedom of thought I decided to sort of do my own thing. One thing lead to another and the leader or whatever leaned down to read my nametag in order to give me a proper chastising to only find the name “Mr. Super Cool” sketched across my chest like a sign; a sign that said “You lose idiot, get a real job” in bright neon letters. Oh life doesn’t get much better than that, by the time my eyes had tiered up from laughing at her she managed to threaten to kick me out of the retreat if I were to smile again during the entire day. That seems fair to me, especially since I would rather be outside playing by myself. Dancing with Satan, especially since I was already equipped with my baggy pants and ample amount of chin hair, which disallowed me from making a connection to God.

Another fun part of EVERY retreat when you’re a teenager is the always sort of awkward, but never disappointing sex speech that the head of the retreat always gives. I personally enjoy them immensely, this is were the leader, in this case Ill use a Priest tries to break it down, and get funky fresh with us. I myself will now “break – it – down” for ya’ll in a couple steps on how the sex, or anti sex speech goes.

1. There is a always a weird outdated video from the late 80’s to early 90’s where the abstinent yet super cool main character stops the movies and talks to us about what’s on, the DL or whatever. In this video there are always insultingly outrageous “first person” perspectives or comments on sex. One of which a young man describes and orgasm to chocolate milk. I don’t care who they are letting into public schools these days but no one thinks in their head, “hmm sex, or a frosty chocolate milk, what will it be?” unless they are prompted in order to be made example of by the priest in charge.

Also in the movie STD’s are carried by everyone who has ever had sex before; everyone. What a filthy place they get these actors from. Also it is doubly pointed out that condoms never have, and never will work, in any situation, ever. Even in hypothetical situations made up on the video.

2. Then we get good and comfortable, and prepared to have a “rap session.” In this rap session the retreat leader sits on a table, some place that isn’t usually a chair, so they look cooler. Whence on the table there is a futial attempt at a joke to break the ice then they whip out some sort of “letter” they had just received from a friend, or other child in search of spiritual guidance. In this letter they present us with several of their personal problems, such as “all the kids are doing it” and so forth…

Now at this point the group leader, or as I have now come to call them, mein Führer reads us his response letter. In this letter he makes sure to let the distressed youth know that he is special, and no one else is like him; but at the same time all youths experience many of the same problems. Also we come to a startling decision which is no, in fact, not all of our friends are “doing it.” That’s where we are shocked and amazed, then we look to our friends in shock and amazement yet again.

And that’s how we break it down ya’ll. Tru dat yo, drugs and sex are all wack n shit.

Next we get to have a snack, this sometimes comes before the sex talk, but I’ll just place it afterwards in this write up. But usually the food blows, it’s from some slum pizza place down the street that offers 40 pieces for a buck and a ride into town. During lunch we get to go outside if we eat everything quicker than everyone else. Which is about the best part of the day.

Well school is almost out, so thanks for that, not too many more retreats left. If there are any I’ll be sure to give ya the 411 or however the kids say it, until then have a fun time and remember, on the Ryan Guthridge experience you can expect fast paced action and inverted aerials.

Butter Comparison

In this report I am going to describe in extreme detail the differences betwixt “I can’t believe it’s not Butter – Spread” and Actual “Amish Butter.”
Test One: Butter and Imitation butter’s lubricating power on a slip n’ slide. For the constant variables in this test I decided to use only one slip n slide, which I covered with a new layer of butter before each test. I also attempted to warm the butters to a similar temperature and also attempted to spread myself with the same amount from each tub of butter. To apply butter to each area of my body I used a paint brush attached to a long stick.

After the brief greasing period I then slid down the slip n’ slide 3 times for each butter brand, washing myself down after each attempt to make sure the butter is still fresh. After my testing it seemed that the regular butter was the stronger lubrication and therefore the slide-ability factor goes to good ol’ fashion Amish Butter.

Test Two: Moisturizing Capabilities. In this test I used a common kitchen Turkey Baster, an all too revealing spandex speed-o, and a pair of goggles. After fully covering my entire body with one of the butters I would sit down by the road and wave to cars for exactly 25 minutes and then wash myself off with a warm bucket of water. Then I would repeat this process 2 more times to get an accurate reading. Taking the necessary day break between each time to be sure to have an accurate reading of results, I then waited one week and then did the same process only with the other butter.

In conclusion to Test Two, I know how Fabio has his silky smooth skin and “I can’t believe it’s not butter – spread” was the clear winner, leaving me silky smooth and feeling great.

Test Three: Raw Consume-ability. In this test I first took an entire 5 pound tub of “I can’t believe it’s not butter – spread” And a soup spoon and went to work. 4 hours later a sicker, fatter, more self loathing me arose. I found this type of butter to throw you into a violent rage when an entire tub is consumed in one sitting. Let’s see what happened after The “Amish butter!”

After consuming another 5 pound tub, only this time of “Amish Butter” I feel that my heart might explode. Never the less it left a longing in my soul, something I had never felt before; It now kind of burns when I use the restroom, and I can’t scale an entire set of stairs with out break-time. I also go into convulsions every time I smell popcorn.

In conclusion to this test I pick “I can’t believe it’s not better.” I didn’t go into any convulsions after eating it, and there aren’t any reoccurring nightmares concerning me naked and a tub of butter with a leather crotch-less pants on.

Finally the “I can’t believe it’s not butter – spread” had a come back victory defeating the mighty lubrication and tasty-ness factors of the “Amish Butter.” Now I and the entire class knows what to have with their heaping portion of the Ryan Guthridge Experience, expect inverted aerials and fast paced action. (Not for those with heart problems)

Sir Ryan the Hansom

In this report I am going to describe in extreme detail the differences betwixt “I can’t believe it’s not Butter – Spread” and Actual “Amish Butter.”
Test One: Butter and Imitation butter’s lubricating power on a slip n’ slide. For the constant variables in this test I decided to use only one slip n slide, which I covered with a new layer of butter before each test. I also attempted to warm the butters to a similar temperature and also attempted to spread myself with the same amount from each tub of butter. To apply butter to each area of my body I used a paint brush attached to a long stick.

After the brief greasing period I then slid down the slip n’ slide 3 times for each butter brand, washing myself down after each attempt to make sure the butter is still fresh. After my testing it seemed that the regular butter was the stronger lubrication and therefore the slide-ability factor goes to good ol’ fashion Amish Butter.

Test Two: Moisturizing Capabilities. In this test I used a common kitchen Turkey Baster, an all too revealing spandex speed-o, and a pair of goggles. After fully covering my entire body with one of the butters I would sit down by the road and wave to cars for exactly 25 minutes and then wash myself off with a warm bucket of water. Then I would repeat this process 2 more times to get an accurate reading. Taking the necessary day break between each time to be sure to have an accurate reading of results, I then waited one week and then did the same process only with the other butter.

In conclusion to Test Two, I know how Fabio has his silky smooth skin and “I can’t believe it’s not butter – spread” was the clear winner, leaving me silky smooth and feeling great.

Test Three: Raw Consume-ability. In this test I first took an entire 5 pound tub of “I can’t believe it’s not butter – spread” And a soup spoon and went to work. 4 hours later a sicker, fatter, more self loathing me arose. I found this type of butter to throw you into a violent rage when an entire tub is consumed in one sitting. Let’s see what happened after The “Amish butter!”

After consuming another 5 pound tub, only this time of “Amish Butter” I feel that my heart might explode. Never the less it left a longing in my soul, something I had never felt before; It now kind of burns when I use the restroom, and I can’t scale an entire set of stairs with out break-time. I also go into convulsions every time I smell popcorn.

In conclusion to this test I pick “I can’t believe it’s not better.” I didn’t go into any convulsions after eating it, and there aren’t any reoccurring nightmares concerning me naked and a tub of butter with a leather crotch-less pants on.

Finally the “I can’t believe it’s not butter – spread” had a come back victory defeating the mighty lubrication and tasty-ness factors of the “Amish Butter.” Now I and the entire class knows what to have with their heaping portion of the Ryan Guthridge Experience, expect inverted aerials and fast paced action. (Not for those with heart problems)

Tony Orlando and Dying Sea Otter Comparison

In this newest and BEST comparison I shall compare the 70’s sensation Tony Orlando to a dying sea otter trapped in oil-as you can clearly see by the pictures provided. In this report I shall pit them against each other in 3 categories: The first of which being sex appeal, the next being musical quality and finally the dreaded flammability test. Who will come out on top you ask your neighbor? Hold on to your seat and prepare yourself for a ride into the musical unknown.

By luck of the draw the sea otter has won the rights to my heart and the prestige of being the first subject to be examined. In the first category sex appeal, I was first thrown off by it being a sea otter, and being smothered in oil. Then I realized how great a scarf it could make, and also how neat it would be to make slippers out of him. I don’t know what it was but this sea otter is hot, real hot. I quickly fell in love with the sea otter, not the love between me and a fine woman, or even between me and an older Belgian prostitute, something special. And he therefore received a generous eight out of ten.

The next test: musical quality. This was a toughie; I had never heard the sea otters traditional songs before which I will add are almost as memorable as the black spiritual hymns of the late eighties and early nineties. After one or two frantic cries for help, I was hooked. I now purchase underground tapes of dying see otters to quench my insatiable thirst for sea otter music; I now simply sit back in my favorite chair, light up a fine cigar, get out the wall street journal, and indulge to sounds of panicked sea otters. Sometimes for hours upon hours; I therefore gave the sea otter a nine out of ten rating.

The final test: flammability. In this test I simply lit a cigarette laughed for a few seconds and flung the still burning match I used to light my cigarette into the water the sea otter was gently playing in. Although the sea otter was surrounded by water there was a thick film of oil on top of that water, without further description I award the sea otter a dissatisfactory four out of ten on the flammability test.

Now I shall move onward to examine Tony Orlando. In the first test, Sex appeal I could hardly contain myself. Now I’m not gay, but I feel kind of funny every time I listen to Tony Orlando’s signature song Candida; which I’m sure all of you have heard many times. Each time he sings “Just take my hand and I’ll lead ya I promise life will be sweeter ‘Cause it said so in my dreams.” I feel that my heart may be torn from its miniscule cavity in my body and begin a violent bloody dance of lust. In conclusion Tony Orlando is a mullet away from being Billy Ray Sirus and therefore is rewarded a nine out of ten stars.

In the next category of musical quality I feel that it is no finer than the 1973 release of “Tony Orlando and Dawn – Prime time.” If you are looking for a song to be sung throughout the ages look no further I believe the name says it all, when you pop this cassette in get ready for two sides of pure Prime Time Orlando, I feel no more is to be said, ten out of ten stars for Tony.

The third and final test: Flammability. To start off all accounts hereafter are purely fictional if Tony Orlando is to burst into flames, or has burst into flames it shall be through no fault of my own. If I were to go about it, and this is hypothetical, I would probably wait until about three o’clock in the morning when he would be sleeping. I would then cut off all power going into his trailer to diffuse all necessary security necessities for the greatest performer of this or any generation. I would then throw a brick through his window with an attached note that says “look outside” on it. When he would happen to look outside I would sneak in through the front door. When confrontation is made I will place him into a burlap sack and put him in the trunk of his 87′ Chevy Celebrity. When I would happen upon a cliff I would merely reuse the brick with the note on it by placing it on the gas peddle. I would then proceed to open the driver side door and tuck and roll out the open doorway; therefore leaving the car to speed off the road and down the nearby Cliffside. After rolling into the fetal position and crying until around 5 a.m. I noticed that the entire car had been incinerated and Tony was no were to be found. I therefore must give him a poor one out of ten stars on the flammability test.

In conclusion the sea otter barely wins this comparison by scoring a phenomenal 21 stars defeating Tony Orlando who scored a respectable 20 stars. With this newly found information I would like to take a moment to notice all you young kids to the newer sexier Mrs. Kunkle (Look out!) and make a brief warning that on the Ryan Guthridge experience there will be inverted aerials and fast paced action (not for those with heart problems).

Welcome to the real world

Who hear likes to get yelled out for mistakes made by other, stupid people that are stuck in a dead end job; raise your hand!

My hand, as I must explain since your not here with me; is pointing to the sky. I have just recently began working at the local (undisclosed grocery store). Or as I more preferably call it, Satan’s asshole. OH yeah, it’s THAT bad.

One of the only points I made during my interview were: I cant work until the week of the 30th, and I can only have/only want 20 hours a week. I dont need money that bad, and I have a life.

Lo and behold I put in 20 hours the week before the 30th, yes that’s right, the one I said I couldnt work on, and the week following I had 36 hours. I know that if your working in a grocery store and that is your end career (as good as it gets for you), your probably didnt excel in math. BUT 36 is 16 more than 20, and you can use a simple calculator or your hands to figure that one out. Idiots.

I also realized how much I hate People, again. I say again because I quit my job previously (to play baseball) and just asked to be rehired. People ridicule me while I’m standing there, just to be an ass, not even to be funny. Also there are the people that screw up my displays that I’m building (a display is a whole bunch of a product on a shelf) for those who arent grocery suave. After they do screw it up by lading their food stamp wagon to the brim they smile at me, like they are the only ones shopping in the dairy isle, each time it’s funnier.

In the first week and a half I have worked with and helped some of the most ignorant people on earth, I feel dumber just thinking about my experiences. As I was trying to find some yuppies gay ass fat free soy milk he mentions “It’s hard to find a good dairy guy,” AS I stood in front of him looking for a half gallon of soy, soy milk, GET NORMAL MILK ASSHOLE.

Also just today I was filling the shelf with buns, hamburger buns and I had the bin of buns behind me which I take the buns from and set them nice and neat on the shelf. This one guy with his friends comes up, fills up his arms with buns and puts them in his cart. His friend looked at him and said “wouldnt it have been easier for both of us if you just took them from the bin instead of the shelf after he puts them on here.”

I looked to the friend and simply replied “good call…good call.”

I myself work in dairy so im in the cooler for a lot of the time and that’s fun, not only is it 30 degrees, it reeks of old cheese and milk; sort of like Bob. I think that is why I detest work so much, but that’s another story. Well not really but I dont want to get into the Bob “issue” just yet, I’ll save it for when I run out of everything else.

My hatred for the grocery store runs deep, like Bob’s fist in a an old Portugese man whore. (Ran out of stuff 3 paragraphs ago)

Refering to the first paragraph today I was confronted by the head honcho guy. He asked me, ” where’s your name tag?”

I replied “I told the personnel manager to get me one, but she forgot.”

He then sternly answered, “well you better get one.”

What the hell is wrong with this picture? the Personel manager forgets to do something I asked her to do and I get in trouble, good system. I would like to be at the level in the store where I can merely walk around and talk to people and get paid for it, I’d be great at that, not only do I hate work I also love talking to the elderly like they are children.

I have also came to a conclusion regarding my job, at the grocery store here is the equation they use for my pay check.

Amount of hours X 5.15 – union fees – taxes = professional ass reaming – cost of KY jelly

I think im worth more than that, Bob would dissagree im sure, but after all the costs I at times lose more than half of my meger paycheck. I dont need a union, I’m 17 years old. Lets also take notice to the idiots at the service desk well maybe just one; I’ve only had experience with two, the one was cool and helped me but the other did just the opposite.

I’ll relive the moment with you. I walk up to the service desk to an open window with a woman counting money. I stood there a good 3 minutes with here just stanind there counting without noticing me I kinda waved and tried to get her attention, nothing major. Then she looks up at me, apparently done counting I then start to say I want my check and she walks away from me. She went into another room or something then came back, still without saying anything to me and asks “what do you want?” Now that’s service.

I simply replied I want my check, gave here my name and everything, she gives me my check then LEAVES, so I cant cash it. Luckily there was a younger, nicer person there and she hooked me up with my sweet 79 dollars for my 20 hours of work.

Well after a week and a half that’s what I have, and that doesnt even tip the iceburg, I might crack myself, I need another job. Have fun, and happy shopping. I’ll leave you with a little message, Help out your local Dairy Man when you take some milk out slide the one behind it in it’s place, saves me a lot of time, Later.

Ummmmm yeah.

I am now going to compare a night out with the guys from N’sync to a half eaten corpse. In this comparison I will run each through 3 tests and you know how the rest goes.

For the first test I analyze the stench of the two contestants. I fill first examine the smell of the boy band. They reak of prison cells and cheap cologne. I wont necessarily take off for the prison thing, because how would I know what that smells like? that’s obviously for another story. I mean SURE the first night it feels good to have someone’s arms around you, you can close your eyes and pretend it’s your mother and your at home, then you feel a mans hand creeping down your back and you dont necessarily hate it, per se. Then you start to talk more and you reveal a few too many things, and next think you know your stowing away crack so your man friend doesnt get sent to solitaire because you know in the time he is gone he’ll find someon else, another white man that has even softer hair, SCREW YOU LANCE!~ Im his bitch. And just like that it’s over. I’ll give them a 7 in the smell catagory.

NOw the half eaten corpse gives off a poinent but somewhat irresistable smell. It’s not nearly as bad as the half wrot corpse. Also if you dont look at it, it sort of smells like spaghetti (have fun at dinner tonight), well that would be if spaghetti filled the cremisces left by the small mammals that dug wholes in the body, and also there were meatballs where the eyes used to be. I’ll give it a 5 just because it ruined the spaghetti meal for me for the rest of my life.

Next up we’ll compare textures, N’sync went first last time so I’ll review the half eaten corpse first.

Alright at first I was like, “Hey that’s a half eaten corpse, I dont want to touch that.” Then I had a few couple drinks and then I was all like “hey whatcha doin corpse?”

The corpse was all like “nothin.”

So then I was like “What do ya feel like doin?” The Corpse nodded. And we made love for what seemed like an eternity. 10 points!

Now when it came to the boys from N’sync, sure they skin gets moisterized more than shamoo after being stolen from his ocean home, but perhaps TOO moisturized, to the point they were greasy. I swear I saw Lance slide into a hole that was no large than 8 inches, he had to like dislocate his hips to do it or something. ANyway, i’ll make this one short, they just creeped me out a little too much and I’ll give them a 4.

Next comparison on the list I have written down hair styles.

I did the corpse first last time, and N’sync is trailing I believe so they shall go first. I’ll start off by saying that Justin’s hair is like cool whip on the top of the sundae, it’s insane, his golden locks are too sweet to taste, I kid you not. But the 35 year old guy’s hair is falling out and most of it is just red hair plugs now, which I’m not going to say I hate, but at the same time Im not exactly crazy for.

When the boys busted it down Darren’s Dance moves style their hair stayed perfect and this impressed me….ALOT, they recieve an 8.

Next up the half eaten corpse, I cant tell if it’s male or female anymore but there is just something about the almost white hair atop my lovers head. Sure when I run my fingers through it it falls out, but I just rap a pink ribbon around in a store it in my droor of locks of peoples hare that I steal while people are sleeping. Since the hair falls out all so oftenly, even sometimes without any warning or physical action. I’ll give it a 3.

It seemed that a night with N’sync is preferable to a night with a half eaten corpse. Who woulda thought? But my methods are completely flawless, so if you get the option, choose N’Sync.

The Ryan guide to X-mas lights

I know that it is August but it is NEVER too early to start, plus now is when you’ll find the best deals. Also your friends will commend you for being ahead of the pack.

Here I’m going to go ahead and say wattage is the name of this game. The more Watt’s the more Jesus will love you. I also find that using entire spotlights, atop your roof along with the usual lights really helps you get that number up and it looks fantastic until a helicopter attempts a landing on your house.

But if it’s salvation your going for I say you cant get any better than a full size nativity scene in your front yard, nothing makes the neighbors quite as envious as this, and I bet they’ll feel awfully foolish on the day of redemption, standing there with their tiny ice sickle light set.

I hope to not put down the ice sickle lights though, they are a fantastic accessory to your main frame of lights.

Another safe bet is Santa, and all his reindeer atop your roof. Prompt and ready to descend into your home while your sleeping and creep about the house with a ravenous look of desperation, one that can only be found in a man when he is looking for cookies and milk. I also feel that nothing represents Baby Jesus better than a fat man and mythical flying creatures.

Another area I want to touch upon is the lights for your Christmas tree(s). The key to this is special surprises for everyone who looks at the tree. Last year I had a Cross hanging with a motion sensor and everytime they would get too close if would spray a salty mix of mace and red die into their eyes, to remind them that Jesus suffered for our sins, but I try to keep novelties like that to a minimum until Easter.

A big thing with the front lawn is being different, in this game you have to be able to catch someones eye, and keep it there long enough for them to drive their car into the guard rails. I counted 3 kills last year and 14 wrecks, the second best ever, I must have done something right.

Now with the front lawn, I already mentioned the nativity scene, which is an ok start, but if you really want to make a splash hire real out of work actors to work in shifts in your front yard. It’s great, The kids love it, and if people try to mess with your stuff one of the actors usually just ends up getting cut up and having their kidneys sent to guadalupe. Doesnt bother me much, but I just insist that everyone signs a waver saying that if they lose any organs to the black market it’s their responcibility to get them back, not mine.

Also for the front yard you might want to have another Christmas tree with an enormous middle finger on top, just to let your neighbors know that you’re number one.

I also like to spray the windows with some of the temporary white stuff that looks like snow, but I dont stop there. After doing this I also enjoy covering my hand in sheeps blood and smothering the tops of the doors with it; Now I know it’s not passover and the angel of death probably isnt coming, but just to be safe I think it’s worth it. Also it seems to keep away werewolvs, dont ask me how but ever since I starting doing it, no signs of werewolves.

Now I know what your thinking…That’s all the lights you put up? Of coarse not. I shall now present you with the creme de la creme or so to speak. Every 15 minutes I designed a mechanical hand [of God] to reach down and touch the baby Jesus in the manger. When doing so I have two bull horns that blast Hallelujah for 10 minutes. The neighbors really seem to get into the spirit by shooting guns into the air, and sometimes winging the hand. Little do they know I placed several wasps nest in each of their attics when they left their homes. By my estimate in the 2 months before they even begin to get their spring stuff out there should be close to 2000 wasps in all of their homes. Merry Christmas.

After much negative attention (jealousy) from the neighbors I also had my yard outfitted with electric shockers that are designed to paralyze small animals, incuding children for a temporary amount of time. After doing so I sprinkled my yard with toys and different snow ornaments.

Middle School Faculty Room

I wake up, the day begins, School begins, Life begins, the diet coke it sold out, this is school.

I have always had a real problem with diet colas, more specifically the people that buy them. I know that since your 5’1 320 pounds anything with diet in it is a good idea, but when your purchase consists not just a diet coke, but also a small bag of Doritos and three candy bars for dessert you need to rethink things. The items bought with diet drinks include but are not limited to said items, but tubs of ice cream are also favorites among the “dieters.”
-Side note, that title is dead.

Anyone who diets now, diets in the way said above (not at all) or has an eating disorder. That is because diets, if used correctly, do not results that are scalable to society. With that I say go ahead, you knew it was true, have a snack to fill the void you are so desperately trying to make.

I am sitting in the faculty room right now. In the time I’ve been here I’ve come to one almost immediate conclusion, the faculty members are filthy, or I am neat, I’ll pick the latter.

Upon sitting down, actually even before I sat down I was compelled to dust off the table (after realizing that just blowing on it will not get the job done) using a bag of popcorn one of the teachers had left.

In retrospect I realize that this faculty room is far above what my co-workers of shop n’ save left their eating-place, but this just seems different. Grocery workers are inheritably dirty people, word with food, spilled food, and other unsavory elements of the grocery business all day long.

Jesus, I hate crumbs, through my close inspection it appears that some stupid teachers were eating brownies (I can tell because of the enormous crumb size). I mean get a damp napkin and clean it up, I would but I don’t work here.

My first period today went by quickly, I slept through most of it, sort of like the vacation car ride effect – sleep as much as possible, even if you don’t really have to, and it isn’t nearly as bad. Right now I am in composition, hence the composing, my literary manifesto of thoughts; to be followed by journalism.

Sitting here in the faculty room I notice a microwave, reminding me of the question that has plagued me for the past several weeks, which is: If I were to begin cooking something and then smashed the looking glass part out, what would happen? Would said ax spark like the effect of putting a fork in the microwave? Would I be injured in anyway, and most importantly, would it be cool? Not cool to the touch, I imagine I will be quite hot, but cool to look at, sparks everywhere like the fourth millennium has just came upon city, money falling from the sky, and 17 virgins all trying, at my feet, to get my undivided attention, as I play a funky bass riff on my ax/guitar, while I jump an explosion on my dirt bike.

I am personally worried about the status of high school seniors, our future. Either IM a genius (last time I was tested, results were negative) or these people (children) are complete idiots, not all; most. Politics, the future, knowledge, wisdom, all held to little regard when found in comparison to a “sweet ride,” or anything with flashing lights. I have even taken my time, my precious time, out of my day of slackery to teach them about crazy concepts like the stock market, democracy, or why eating three cookies at one time, when presumably a scrumptious idea can have irreversible or even fatal conclusions. This of course depends on cookie size, I’ll just say the average home made cookie size, and unless you live somewhere like Texas where “everything is bigger,” for unknown reason you should be reasonably safe with two but should take it on at a time.

I am attempting, or have been for quite some time to diversify myself. My last activity inclusion would be reading, I wanted/want to read the classics. I read “Catcher in The Rye,” which was perhaps, one of the greatest books I will ever read, and has impacted my life (I am sure) in at least a minor way. I seem to have fallen short though, I am currently reading “A heart breaking work of staggering genius,” I saw “fallen short,” because it is yet to be declared a classic, I doubt it ever will be though, because it is far too entertaining to be a classic in the eyes of the literary “elite,” I am sure.

I myself have embarked several times to write my own classic American novel, each time failing after several pages in. I contribute this to my change in mindset. I will start a book one day, a week later decide it is too depressing, start another, then two days later feel depressed again. It’s like clockwork, or a very old malfunctioning, but still working coo-coo clock who’s bird jolts out at random spots in time, disturbing all that is happening at the moment.

 Bobby-kins: The Counter

Alright, our maneurisms and sarcastic whit are on an level playing field, which makes for an interesting arguement. Although they usually end with me tearing off one on my many layers of shirts that I wear, and making Bob cry. But in all reality Bobby has become an essential addition to FlantLine Comics which pleases me to no end, he has went from “no talent hack,” all the way to “competent.” I will end my first paragraph as he did, and give you an outside perspective of the man behind the mask; Bob.

In contrast the artistic images of Bob are quite accurate, he really does look Jewish, it’s amazing, and he does a Jew voice that kills. He even whines like a Jew, such as depicted in the comics. He once told me “I like to spend the money I make, not the money I already have,” If you could think of a more Jewish thing to say, please send me an e-mail with it included. In many of the comics Bob is also depicted wearing an And1 t-shirt or longsleeve, this is also accurate, and a Bob-o trademark.

As Bob mentioned he likes to correct people’s grammar; because he is a total chode. It is one of those things that dont even get a curtousy grin when he says it. The only thing that keeps Bob doing this is his own feeling of superiority for a couple seconds, which keeps him content for days.

SURE i’ve made a lot of gay jokes and remarks about Bob, but that’s for good reason. THere is just an aura around him that screams ass rangler. Everytime something gay happens and he is present it is directed squarely at him. You can even ask him about that one, no lie the gay vibe isnt something you can learn and he really seems to light up the gay-dar so I’ll keep you posted on that situation.

Music taste, I listen to all sorts of stuff and yes there IS a cd in my car which I labeled “supa fresh rap cd” I’ll admit that. I like most of the stuff Bob does so I have no complaints about that.

Bob DOES although always come to my house bare-foot. Which I think is kinda weird, I think he has socks? Kinda creeps me out him and his nude feet. Who knows where he has been walking he seems to be a frequent visitor to the public restrooms, who knows? I think next time he comes over I’ll just pour peroxide all over him right before he enters my house, then let him air dry. (if anyone has any jail strength de-louse please send information for me)

According to Bob anything that people do in a group is a bad thing, for reference mearly check out his editorials/reviews. The only group activity I had ever seen him participate and enjoy is when me and him coop and kick some computer ass at Empire Earth. We both agree that the internet, especially multiplayer gaming is too full of idiots for us to enjoy a game.