Father's Day: Thank You For Gettin' Some

Once again yesterday we explored the comic world of the annual Heroes Convention in Charlotte, North Carolina while also being able to retain our dignity as the biggest Batman fans that ever lived. Last year I posted a blog about how silly those who dressed up in spandex looked while not fighting crime, but instead fishing for compliments, I deleted it because all I got were hateful comments by people with too much sand in their vaginas. Apparently, looking for an excuse to wear your Halloween costume a few more days out of the year is respected among the comic book geek universe. Sure, playing dress-up was fun when we were kids, but I guess being yourself is overrated these days, especially if yourself is a chronic masturbator with a taste for dry humor and tights with a lightning bolt and wings on your head. Don't get me wrong, I think events where almost everyone wears costumes is kind of cool, but going to a comic book convention where this kind of behavior isn't really a commodity makes it a little weirder than normal.



Anyway, today is Father's Day; the day where people congradulate me for having sex with my wife. I mean, I did the very best that I could, so in honor of Father's day, I'd like to give this congradulatory speech that I prepared for such an occasion:

" I'd like to thank all of the little people that made this possible. I'd like to thank God, my mother, the camera crew, and also multiple sex partners throughout the years that brought me to where I am today. I'd like to thank George Foreman for some reason. I'd like to thank my friends and family for encouraging me not to pull out, which resulted in the conception of my first child, Blinky. Blinky was half goat and half human, so she didn't make it very far in life. rest in peace Blinky.
I'd like to thank my wife for defying the laws of marriage and finding it in her heart to have sex with me at least once. I'd like to also thank my penis for doing what's right.....and all of my fans out there. Without you, I couldn't do what I do best. Thank you Santa Claus and Eric Estrada. Thank you midget porn, threesomes, and Cool Whip. Most of all, thank you to that old lady on the street that taught me the ways of the Kama Sutra and how to eat cream corn without a can opener. "

I hope you enjoyed my speech and happy Father's Day to all of you fathers out there who resisted the sexiness of goats everywhere.

Rest in peace Blinky...

Rapist Killer Toy Story

If you don't know this about me already, I'm a toy collector. I have been since I was about 13 years old in Nazi Germany, just before the fake Moon landing. I'm one of those guys that has to say, "Hey.......it's an Action Figure!"; but the best part about it is my never-ending quest to drive every figure absolutely nuts. I know what you're thinking, but I don't whisper in their ears or switch the mustard with the Ketchup, nothing like that. Instead, I just leave them in the box for 17 years.

Last night we watched Puppet Master (<-- full movie!!) on AMC and my wife is scared s#*tless of that movie, not to mention I have a full-size Blade Figure upstairs. She says, "he's got a knife for a hand, he can get out of that box if he wanted to." I said, "what box?", even though it really is in the package. If it wasn't, I'd be posing it on the kitchen counter or in the bathroom, just so I can sit back and watch the hi jinx. Even if Blade came to life and just so happened to desire every living thing in the house dead, he'd obviously be trying to break free from his plastic and cardboard prison, which hasn't happened yet, plus he'd have to deal with about 300 Batman figures also struggling for freedom and Batman can get out of anything. Watch out Xerxes...

So, we started discussing what if a toy actually had a consciousness. First of all, Would it have moral issues? Even if murder was totally allowed in its repertoire of happy toy fun time with Kung Fu grip, Would it be compulsive about variety, like in the movies, or would it be obsessive about having to do it the same way, every time...you know, for good luck? Would toys even care about pleasing its owner, or would it try to purposefully displease its owner out of spite for being human. Besides, would it even want to be human if it had the choice?

Maybe it would want to be a fairy or a bird or something stupid like that. What if it was a fairy toy specifically and it was originally male and wants to kill itself repeatedly, but can't do it because of it's moral standing. I know I could...

So I guess in the quest for driving your toys batty, you might just do it to yourself in the process. I'm just glad the really big toys aren't gay rapists and anatomically correct with superhuman strength. I'd have to pull 'em off my wife so much I wouldn't have time to rape her myself.


The worst part is people's imaginations not even doing the math on a toys appearance. If you painted extra eyes on their kneecaps, could they see better or would they just have paint on them? What about balls? I mean, you can't paint on balls..... you could maybe mold a little toy bulge or something..... but could a toy rapist get blue ball if all it could accomplish was dry humping your old Teddy Ruxspin into submission without full release? One day, I want to see an enclosed room full of gay murdering rapist toys, killing, raping, and giving unwanted birth to other toys, filing for unemployment and welfare, attending a community college and talking under their breath about the trailer toys down the road...You know, the one's missing limbs and teeth that sell toy crack downtown?


Either way, if you're not crazy yet, eb lliw uoy....Enjoy the ride.

Also, Don't forget to follow me on Twitter HERE

One Flew Out of the Egg Carton

This guy in a flannel shirt and a beard on television just told me to spray Kaboom on my shower door. How did he know I did that? I didn't think anyone was looking, but I've been wrong before...

We went to the grocery store last night, not to get cocaine around back this time, but to get some actual food. Now for me, grocery shopping can be a little more interesting than if you went with your grandmother like I know you do. First of all, I like to take things out of people's carts when they're not looking. Then, I run really fast through the isles and ride the carts until I hit something or someone...or someone's child; but that only happened twice. Look, they shouldn't have been in my way; I have to be free like a bird. Next, every now and then I like to break a single egg in each carton of eggs and put a single feather in the wreckage. I mean, come on... It's cheaper than going to the movies.

At least they had a sale I couldn't pass up:







I got a dozen... Good thing they were imported from Jamaica, or I might have had to pay a little more for the Ganja-free ugli babies.

I also got something I've been needing for about 16 years now. Some homeless guy had a truckload and told me that if I bought one, I'd be the first person to ever own it. I couldn't possibly let this opportunity slip through my fingers:







I used to have to rewind my DVD's maunally...

Anyway, I guess I'll be sending my babies back tomorrow. Apparently, they yell really loud when you prepare them for consumption and we have a noise ordinance around here. Oh, and I forgot the wing sauce.



Don't forget to click here, here, and here too.

Dog and Baby DNA Just Won't Splice

Babies are babies, right? Pretty simple concept, really. They write on the walls with crayon and use their imposable thumbs to open cupboards so they can drink up all your delicious cleaning products. Even though this sounds like fun, I think there are things that we should discuss in a very "hush, hush" and intimate level with a low tone; like sleepy grandma low. I'll try not to notice that Mrs Puff blew up a condom on Spongebob just now. Hey, the kids like it. I don't approve advertising crotchless panties, but at least Spongebob makes kids believe you can start a fire underwater.

Anyway, before I get way off track, there are a lot of children that may have.....let's just say they don't apply themselves very well. Usually, I would blame some kind of conspiracy or David Hasselhoff, but in my case I blame accidental gene splicing.

I know what you're thinking, but I'm not drunk yet. Gene splicing I hear is very simple, you just..........you just........you um............









Let me explain what I mean. Every morning, my daughter goes through a routine of eating the garbage followed by playing in the toilet followed by eating baby powder followed by holding her tounge out and shaking her head..........then she barks at me and chases the mailman down the block. I think someone came in to the hospital and accidentally spliced my daughter with a wiener dog... and by accidentally, I mean on purpose. I only say that because she looks like a dolphin on smack. Gene splicing should be performed by scientists and cartoon characters only, not the leprechauns that broke in when my wife was mid-coitus. The same laprechauns that spliced a sponge with Clay Aiken (see picture at top). Why would the little people do it, you may ask? Why wouldn't they? It's not like they have anything better to do.....being a leprechaun doesn't leave too many opportunities in the business world. (Their options are pretty much limited to the mall during Christmas season.) The only reason I could think of is when kids steal their lucky charms, they're too f*#%in' fast! Inter-species splicing will dumb them down so much, they won't even eat cereal let alone run away in the right direction.

So next time you notice your child running around in circles backwards, dumping out the garbage can for some good eats, or even has trouble standing up in the car.......remember the leprechauns. I know it seems a little outlandish, but if we all recall, some guy got a tattoo of a dolphin in a recliner smoking a bong. Seriously, it's on this page.

My 1-Year Blogoversary... Reese's Doesn't Stand a Chance

For me, three days ago was..... Wednesday. So, just to prove how much of a procrastinator I am, I waited until today to mark my 1-year anniversary (some of my blogger friends call a blogoversary) and use that cream the doctor gave me for the rash I got while hanging out with the Jonas Bros.(and which is apparently airborne). The anniversary of this blog page is supposed to be an important occasion because hey, a year has passed and we all know I made that happen with my super powers of making time pass at normal speed. It's a God-given ability I picked up while battling wild animals in the far reaches of Bret Michaels' house.



Anniversaries most of the time piss me off royally. I couldn't tell you how many people I see and hear celebrating anniversaries every month or even week if it's a relationship between two yuppies. Let me just put my two cents in by saying, "an anniversary is ONCE A YEAR!!!" Anybody ever hear the word annual? Yeah, that's also once a year. So let's all be good Americans and show the rest of the world that we know how to use our own language. This is why there are school.





Now you might think I have something extra special planned for you. You must not know me at all. Truth is, I have a rash. Lucky you.
So with no further ado, let's get on with the subject matter, shall we? It's pretty simple actually. I was at the gas station and I just so happen to like chocolate. I know, what are the odds? I put in the extra money for the "bigger" version of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and I noticed to my surprise, Americans don't know math either. Let me show you...






Did you notice that? Check out that yellow strip on the right. It says "40% more free".
Wow!! Are you serious? An entire 40% more? Absolutely free? What's the catch?
I'll tell you what the catch is...... There are three, count 'em three f*%#in' cups in this package! Originally, there were two cups, now there are three. Let us recap: Two delicious peanut butter cups are now three delicious peanut butter cups because you get.....40% more. Is anybody else seeing what I'm seeing here? I want to know who the guy is in this economy that's obviously deserving of his job and ultimately responsible for not knowing how to add percentages to two whole objects. Maybe I could get a job for the Hershey Company decreasing the size of their "fun size" candy bars by three halves. In case no one's noticed, a candy bar the size of my thumb is not fun at all. Of course, that's a blog for another time; I'm already looking for the guy responsible for that one.



Well, that's the end of my 1-year blogoversary. Remember I enjoy comments. They let me know there are more than twelve people reading this thing. Also if you'd like to go to the top of your screen and "follow this blog", I'd appreciate that also. I'll do my best and try not to expose myself after being around the Jonas Bros. but I'm not promising anything.

WinBlueSoft: The Virtual Whore in My PC's Loins

I swear I have no idea why I'm being followed by massive amounts of porn sites on Twitter. I guess porn just really likes me.....or my credit card. Good thing you can find it free almost anywhere you go on the net now or I'd be in debt up to my herpes. In case you're not following me already, my Twitter is right here. Hey, cheap plugs are what the internet is all about. However there's reason enough to wear a virtual condom and practice safe surfing or you might pick up an internet STD like I did last night. Now it stings when I bookmark.

This uh, friend of mine, that's right my friend was um...browsing for a screener for a new movie last night and was asked to download the latest codec for the video player I...he had, and almost immediately automatically downloaded a scare ware/malware/prostitute program called WinBlueSoft, which is a fake anti-virus program, not to mention a filthy whore. This program blocks out your task manager, access to your C:/ drive, will not let you run the necessary programs to get rid of it, blocks your regedit command, and gives you little red bumps right above your scrotum sack. This is basically what this web-sexually transmitted bastard does to your computer:











See? It kills Winnie the Pooh.

If you or anyone else accidentally downloads WinBlueSoft, you need to delete the file, C:\Windows\system32\blocker.dll
I used Killbox to do it; then I shaved to make application of a topical cream easier.
Then you just need a program that smashes the guts of malware viruses, like WinBlueSoft and Filipino hookers. In my case I used Malwarebytes Anti-Malware. If your problems persist, go to the health department or consult your doctor. This is a bitch of a virus and will take all of the money off of your night stand while you sleep, not to mention will give you what the last guy had. Please be careful what you download and use a dental damn when performing on your laptop mistress. I usually know what to look for, but this streetwalker took me by surprise and downloaded itself within seconds. They say it only takes a minute, but I achieved that unmistakable itch in my crotch before you could say.........well, just say something that doen't take long.