Gift Exchange Shenanigans

Howdy all. As my contribution to a gift exchange a few days ago, I offered to write a children's book about whoever drew my prize. Now, I'm not exactly sure what a children is, but here goes nothing.

The Adventures of Brave King Paul

On the morn' so cold it would reduce a polar bear to tears, Brave King Paul stood naked, his body like a glistening God's, on his balcony, surveying the wide breadth of his kingdom.

What Paul saw with his keen eyes caused him to bellow with surprise. The ensuing avalanche would claim countless lives.

The avalanche.

Wondering if perhaps it was just his eyes playing tricks on him after another exhausting night of drinking whisky by the barrel and loving women by the dozen, he called his brother and trusted sheriff Bernard to his side.

"GREAT ODIN'S RAVENS! Surely my eyes deceive me!" But deceive was the one thing Brave Bernard's eyes could not do. Many furlongs away, obscured by a wall of fearsome frost, a wicked beast approached at tremendous speed.

Paul was puzzled, but when provoked, Paul was not a person who paused to ponder. He called for his army, causing another tragic avalanche.

R.I.P.

Knowing his army was no match for the foul beast, Paul grabbed his famed sword, K'runch known in all the realms as the maker of widows, the father of orphans and genocide's fierce bedfellow. 

With violence incarnate grasped firmly in his statuesque hand, Paul and his allies marched to the gates of his kingdom, ready to face this horrid result of interdimensional inbreeding. 

Admit it, you would watch this movie.

The beast struck quickly, it's tentacles thrashing about like the whips of one thousand foremen. It spewed acid from it's horrid visage, displeasing Paul immensely.

His troops were scattered, his previously immaculate hair sodden by one of the foulest of Hell's beasts, Paul's bloodlust remained unsatisfied and all-consuming. Paul decided to give this beast a taste of it's own medicine.

Though his skin was a scaly material not unlike reptilian titanium, the mighty K'runch in Paul's mighty hand was sharp enough to slice open his throat, unleashing a forceful shower of his blood, which at this point was a lethal mix of magma and hate. The creature stood shaken but not defeated. The battle raged on.

And on.

And on some more.

With both Paul and the beast growing weary and dangerously low on their bodily humors, they summoned every bit of their strength and charged into each other with the force of an elder God's balls striking a volcano during a passionate embrace. 

After regaining his senses, Paul looked at the sorrow their clash has brought, his kingdom in ruins, his army decimated, bloodstains on his clothes he was NEVER going to get out. The beast, still clutching onto dear life, shared a look of mutual respect with King Paul. Paul knew he would have to repopulate his kingdom anew, and he knew the only being worthy of being his queen.

After they had made their love, Paul looked again at his new wife and saw her transformed! No longer a mind-breaking abomination, his bride was instead a beauty worthy of the admiration she would so easily engender.

Brave King Paul rebuilt his kingdom with the help of his beautiful wife, their veritable army of loin-product and his trusty hat-maker, Joseph. 

Fin.

Well, that's good news. Itypinets don't come cheap these days.

So, Geri X lives in St. Pete. Road trip anyone?

WEYTHUH?!

...and I'm a Mormon!

All screen-shots taken from www.mormon.org, which is not only the official website for The Church of Latter-day Saints but also the official website of dumb. 

If you realize that maybe some of these pronouns could use clarification, congratulations, you are overqualified to write for www.mormon.org. Notice how little the blurb tells you about how Paris is doing these days. Sure, he looks happy, but maybe his face is stuck like that after some horrific accident. And here's a thought: how did Paris's brother die anyhow? Was he murdered by the church to add some more pathos to this otherwise dull tale? I hope not, because it sure didn't help.

Welcome to Mormonworld, where secular "painting teachers" are so opposed to marriage they're willing to share their feelings with near-strangers. Well, listen here Mr./Ms. Painting Teacher! Rose ain't having it! She's gonna have a million goddamn babies, and she's gonna buy them diapers by selling her latest painting: "Two Babies Hanging Out in Front of a Neonatal Galaxy". Take that, liberal elite! (Editor's note: I took the liberty of removing all eight jokes about the girth and stench of a Mormon uterus. You're welcome.)

WOAH! NORMAN IS ONE WILD PHYSICIST! HE'S A MAN OF SCIENCE AND FAITH?! HOT DAMN! MOVE OVER, KEITH RICHARDS; PARTY PEOPLE OF THE WORLD, MEET YOUR NEW MESSIAH! NOW YOU'RE THINKING: "HOLY SHIT! THIS NORMAN GUY COULDN'T GET ANY WILDER!". BUT WAIT, HE'S A MUSIC-LOVER ALSO! HOW CAN HE BE THIS WILD?! P.s. Norman rhymes with Mormon. 

What do you do when you get stressed out or depressed? Listen to your favorite band? Have a drink with friends? Read a book? Deborah used to do all those things too, until she found the ultimate cure for depression: think about people with really depressing lives. Since reading about Deborah, I have been using this approach myself. If I get lonely, I think about the man who lost his family and both of his legs when a bomb landed on his house and it brings a smile to my face. When she's not thinking about starving orphans and touching herself, Deborah likes to kiss little girls who look like blotchy slack-jawed mutants. 

"Okay guys, you're doing great! Now, if you could tilt your head to the side, squint real hard and give me a smile that looks like God drew your face wrong. Good job, folks! Check's in the mail."

What am I doing writing this blog? Seriously? I have to worry about saying things people want and are able to read. I could have a stroke while singing the national anthem into Portugese voice recognition software and produce a statement with a stronger basie of this. Screw you, David Martinez. Right in your tee-totaling face. 

I just heard someone use the phrase "That would be a shit". Not "That would be some shit" or "That would be shitty" but "That would be a shit". And you know, it almost made me feel gross. Keep your idioms aligned properly, people.

BIGGEST POST EVER

SHAQ: Explained
 Like any living legend, Shaquille O' Neal has been the subject of much scrutiny. Over his career as a ball-player, actor and lunatic, Shaquille has been the victim of many criticisms: "He's lazy!", "He can't shoot free throws!", "He ate my horses!", etc. However, understanding is a powerful weapon and today, I hope to help you understand SHAQ.

This is a picture of George W. Bush surrendering the U.S.A. to Shaquille O' Neal. Shaq lost the nation to Bush later that night in a drinking contest.

Shaq spends a good portion of his day relaxing by punching white men in the armpits. Shaq's contract states he must have a bench within fifteen feet of him at all times in case a plane must pass overhead or gravity remembers he exists.

:o "Did I do that?" Yes, yes you did, Shaq. Fortunately, people seem to like this "Grand Canyon" so we'll um... blame it on erosion.

Shaq stole the uniform off a police horse and is intimidating the remaining Jacksons. Starting with Jermaine, the Fredo of the Jackson family.

Little known fact: Shazam is based off Shaq's real-life encounter with a genie. However in real life, Shaq wished to be big, strong and big.

Shaq mistook Phoenix, Arizona for a small Wild West town and has taken his favorite woman as a peace offering. Also, holy shit look at his chin. If his chin was a person, it would still be tall enough to be in the NBA.

On nights where he's not redirecting rivers into Appalachian villages for laughs, Shaq gets his kicks (size 32- ed.) making fun of homeless people.

Shaq is smiling because his leap into the ocean set the Atlantis reconstruction project back five years. 

Shaq is upset because his teammate is doing an accurate impersonation of him making love. 

Even Titans have to feel pretty sometimes, having run out of innocents to conquer, he attempts to boost his self-esteem by winning a drag contest at the School for the Blind.

Having run out of young suns to consume, Shaquille tries to eat people food. Poorly.

Shaq tries to be Grimace every Halloween. The results are not always pretty.

ARRRRRRRRRT!

ARRRRRRRRT!

Hehe.

In order to get in the spirit of the holidays, I've decided  to try to fight Santa Claus. Or, as he's currently unavailable: his frumpy, Cuban doppelganger. I'll keep you posted on updates as they occur.

Humperdumperdido.

Tony! What happened to your head?!

Ah. I see.

If fucking writing prompts were people I would ask them to go shit blood down their own throats.

This is so dull I'm pretty sure re-posting it gave every algebra teacher in the tr-county area a woody. Also, "Weekly Mister Linky" is not something adults click on. It is something children hide under their sheets in terror of. Next!

Prompt #1: Describe how this website makes you feel. For a challenge, try using at least five words that you can legally say on the radio.

Wow, that pencil motherfucker is spazzing the fuck out. Why do all these websites look like they got found on the Geocities Autism Webring? Also, "Write On"? Really? Oh yeah, and the prompt sucks, but that's kind of like finding out the pizza your dog took a dump on was stale. 

Well, the lack of oxygen up here is almost making me think this prompt is decent. 

Why don't you explain why you set fire to a perfectly good astronaut? I don't owe you anything, shitbird.

I'm no physicist, but I'm pretty sure that no, no I don't know any human TARDISes. Also, all those kids look exactly the same to me: fucking regrettable.

Frank Chimero is widely known as the most boring sod on this whole damn planet. I suppose I would take some "small pleasure" in making his testicles retract into his abdomen possibly whilst on a bridge, rereading my favorite folk tales.

BM, crap, defecation, discharge, dung,excrement, excretion, fecal matter, feces,feculence, flux, go to the bathroom, manure,number two, stool, waste.
I hate it when people ask me not to be crude, I have to check the insensate thesaurus. 

Good job everyone, LOL now means absolutely nothing. CongratLOLations.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna get a crocodile drunk and ride it. Have a terrific afternoon.