Karen, Rod and I went out to a pub in Karen's home town of Marin. And yeah, we thought "why not, we'll bring her little 16 week-old puppy Boo along."
You may be wondering. Who's Karen? - Well, she and I met through our mutual dear friend, Jay. Picture your favorite gal friend who's so fucking cool and great to talk to and and brings the party flava everywhere she goes. Well, your friend is a homely shut-in compared to Karen.
Okay. Who's Rod? A lovable Aussie bloke who we met while paying a visit to the Raggioni family. Some of of Karen's old friends. We all hit it off and lured Rod out to go drinking with us. You see it turns out that this big Aussie Rugby player likes to drink. Shocking, aye? So that was our foursome. Me, Rod, Karen and lil' Boo.
Things worth mentioning:
1) Tony the pub's owner & bartender looked and sounded a lot like a chipper Geoffrey Rush, very exuberant.
2) Little Boo the Puppy yapped. Rod and I coughed in a sad attempt to try and cover up the pup's yelps.
3) Tony the Pub Owner found out that we'd brought a puppy into his bar without permission and as you might expect... he jovially introduced himself and gave us all a free round of drinks. Perhaps it helped that it was a British Pub and Boo is a King Charles Spaniel.
4) Puppy tinkled right on the door of the Mayflower and the bar manager happily cleaned it up. I'm serious.
5) Krankiboy and Rod order a few rounds of Boddingtons Ale. Yum.
6) Scrawny Krankiboy tries to keep up with Big Rod's drinking pace. Hmmm.
7) We videotape Boo, the puppy... Getting poured a shot at the bar and paying for it with a kiss. Tony is Broadway material. Boo, playing the piano doggystyle. And lastly Boo at the pool table sinking a very impressive shot in the side pocket. Puppy got mad skillz!
8) Hijinks! Rod helped Karen and I play a masterful phone prank on our friend Jay. Rod called Jay from my cell phone. Jay is having fun off in Arizona when he gets this call from some Australian guy who he's never met.
Rod: "Hello, who's this? Is this Jake?... Hey then, got a bit of a problem here. Oh, My name's Rod and I own a bar here in Marin County. M-kay there's this bloke and this lady and they've gone and got a bit juiced and now they're passed out at my bar? Yeah, I didn't know what to do with them I saw that your numba was in both of their cell phones. Oh, yeah and there's a little dog here too... but, the dog's not passed out, just the bloke and the lady. Can you, come by and pick 'em up?! They're super wrecked, mate. You're in Arizona! Jeez. Fuck-all. Yeah, I'd put em in a cab, but where do I send 'em? That's great that you'll pay for it, I'm sure he's a good bloke this shit-faced friend of yours, but mate... Where do I fucking send them? No, mate I don't know where they're staying. Look I gotta close up in a bit and they're really not looking so good... First the lady here passed out and then did the bloke. What's his name? Okay, well, what the hell do I do with them? Oh, krikey! It's fuck of a spectacle. The little dog just wizzed on your friend's back... Okay, I'll see if I can rouse him. Hey, fella, your friend's on the phone. You up? Wake it up there.
(I take the phone)
Me: (Slurry and confused sounding) Nnnmmm... naa... uuch... who's this for the phone?
Jay: It's Jay. Man, is that you?
Me: Um. It's.. I'm me. Jay... hey...
Jay: What the hell is going on? Are you okay? Wha--
Me: I'm sorry... Karen and I went... are at... a bar. We were doing like, shots of-- she she passed out.
Jay: (really worried) The bar guy said a girl passed out. Did Karen pass out?
Me: I fucking sorry, man. Then I threw...(garbled)
Jay: What? You threw what?
Me: Yeah, I feel so stupid.
Jay: Wait. Listen. What did you throw?
Me: I threw up.
Jay: Buddy... I'm in Arizona I want to help y--
Me: I threw up... on the dog. A little... up on the little dog. Nnnuummhh.... eemmff...!
Jay: Where are you staying there?
Me: I don't feel good... but don't call Penny
Jay: Okay.
Me: No, don't call Penny, okay?! Please.
Jay: Okay.
Me: I'm sorry. Also, Jay?
Jay: Yeah?
Me: I love you Jay. I love you, man. (throaty swallowing sounds)
(Rod takes back the phone)
Rod: (IRATE) Your fucking buddy is spewing up in my fucking bar.
Jay: Please, I'm sorry, just take care of them, he's a good guy. I'll pay for it. Just take care of them, okay?!
Rod: Hold on!
(Rod gives the phone to Karen who is upbeat and perfectly sober)
Karen: Hey, Jay, what's going on, bitch? We just got you soo bad. I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud. God, I almost peed my pants.
Jay was a little annoyed at me. But it was a magical moment. Rod deserves a fucking award, he was so convincing. I promised I'd visit him when I make it over to Sydney.
P.S. I'm not a big drinker. After closing out two bars, drinking, three glasses of wine, four pints of Boddingtons Ale, a lemon drop martini, 1 shot of Jaegermeister (VILE SHIT that probably tastes like Demon Semen - the fluid, not the band.) I immediately chased down the Jaeger-eww with a stiff double strength Rum and Coke just to get the Jaeger taste out of my mouth. I was actually pretty close to passing out and Karen wisely insisted that I do so on her Aunt and Uncle's couch rather than try and operate Penny's BMW.
When we got to the house the next thing I remember from my foggy stupor was picking up a cat and bringing it inside the house. Fortunately it actually did belong there. On my way to the bathroom I discovered that her Aunt and Uncle also owned a huge, huge old dog named Bear. Bear made it snarlingly clear that he was not happy that some strange, drunk guy had just awoken him from his hibernation. I froze and tried not to make direct eye contact with Bear. Somebody threw him a treat from out of a dark bedroom and he left me alone to pass out.
God and all his chubby angels should bless Karen's Aunt and Uncle for letting me recover from my drinking binge, making me peppermint tea, toast and coffee. I felt so at home that I expressed my thanks by passing out again. Drunkiboy then woke up at two thirty in the afternoon clutching Boo's pink squeaky rubber bone to my chest.
Moral: Never bring an Australian and a King Charles Spaniel puppy to a British Pub.
Also: Peppermint tea - good for hangovers.
I've never tried it but I'm told that Hair of the Dog works well, too.
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Mother Fuckin' Nature!
The drive from Los Angeles to S.F. normally takes about five + hours. This time the trip it took nearly ten. A major accident had traffic crawling along at three miles an hour for the beginning of my haul. The rain was pounding down and had helped a big rig truck to collide with another truck. The front of the truck had snapped off from it's wheels and landed upside-down. It was not your run-of-the mill fender bender. A bit up the I5 freeway was a van mashed into the dividing rail. The rain was hitting the ground in buckets, which slowed traffic enough for me to see police hand-cuff a man and stuff his large frame into the back of a police car. So three hours into the trip and I was only 50 miles outside of L.A.
I stopped into the gas station to fill up my car and unfill my bladder. I went into the little food mart store and the scene looked like something out of a Tokyo subway station at rush hour. Close to a hundred people were lined up to use the 2 rest rooms. It was madness and I wasn't willing or able to wait. I walked outside in my rain jacket and saw a row of bushes. I hustled up the hill and answered nature's call. In the short time it took to take a wizz my pants were completely drenched with the vertical rain that was whipping around. I zipped up and justled back to my car. Just as I that's when I lost my footing slipped bashed my chest, knee and hand on the slick pavement. I was already feeling self-conscious for having just watered the bushes and now I was fully humiliated as I'd taken a spill. Worse was the fact that I continued to slide down the hill face down. I got to my feet and look around to see if anybody had witnessed my pitiful aquatic ballet. Nobody had, but I had bruised my ribs. I got back on the road and things were moving and then the rain let up for a few minutes. The wind was blowing my car all over the road and I thanked the sweet baby Jesus that I'd taken Penny's BMW and not my 1990 Honda P.O.S.
So hurray no rain, the ground in this area of the interstate was actually dry. It was still hard to see but at least the road wasn't slick. That's when a huge cloud of dust blew up and made visibility zero. I get a rain storm, traffic jam, piss related rib injury and a fucking dust storm. I was thinking seriously of going back, but I'm stupid and stubborn and my mom would have been disappointed. After a fit of rapid-fire cursing at the top of my lungs I felt much better. I reminded myself that I hadn't been hit with a 30 foot wall of water like the now 400,000+ and climbing Tsunami victims who've been killed and the tens of millions of people who had their homes and lives and families swept away by mother fucking nature. I wondered if my sis Kylie was enjoying her Thailand vacation among all that chaos. Boohoo me, poor Krankiboy. That made me feel like a royal dick. However once I did get to San Fran and searched for over an hour to find a parking spot I was almost hoping the big one would hit and the earth would swallow me up. I take that back, I don't think it's a good week to taunt Mother Fucking Nature. In fact I'd like to point out to Ms. Mo-Fo-Nature that I am kind to creatures big and small and I go out of my way to recycle. So Mother Nature, if you're reading this blog please don't kill me or my friends and family. I promise to bear in mind what a tiny speck I am in the big scheme of things. You know, except on my birthday and stuff.
I stopped into the gas station to fill up my car and unfill my bladder. I went into the little food mart store and the scene looked like something out of a Tokyo subway station at rush hour. Close to a hundred people were lined up to use the 2 rest rooms. It was madness and I wasn't willing or able to wait. I walked outside in my rain jacket and saw a row of bushes. I hustled up the hill and answered nature's call. In the short time it took to take a wizz my pants were completely drenched with the vertical rain that was whipping around. I zipped up and justled back to my car. Just as I that's when I lost my footing slipped bashed my chest, knee and hand on the slick pavement. I was already feeling self-conscious for having just watered the bushes and now I was fully humiliated as I'd taken a spill. Worse was the fact that I continued to slide down the hill face down. I got to my feet and look around to see if anybody had witnessed my pitiful aquatic ballet. Nobody had, but I had bruised my ribs. I got back on the road and things were moving and then the rain let up for a few minutes. The wind was blowing my car all over the road and I thanked the sweet baby Jesus that I'd taken Penny's BMW and not my 1990 Honda P.O.S.
So hurray no rain, the ground in this area of the interstate was actually dry. It was still hard to see but at least the road wasn't slick. That's when a huge cloud of dust blew up and made visibility zero. I get a rain storm, traffic jam, piss related rib injury and a fucking dust storm. I was thinking seriously of going back, but I'm stupid and stubborn and my mom would have been disappointed. After a fit of rapid-fire cursing at the top of my lungs I felt much better. I reminded myself that I hadn't been hit with a 30 foot wall of water like the now 400,000+ and climbing Tsunami victims who've been killed and the tens of millions of people who had their homes and lives and families swept away by mother fucking nature. I wondered if my sis Kylie was enjoying her Thailand vacation among all that chaos. Boohoo me, poor Krankiboy. That made me feel like a royal dick. However once I did get to San Fran and searched for over an hour to find a parking spot I was almost hoping the big one would hit and the earth would swallow me up. I take that back, I don't think it's a good week to taunt Mother Fucking Nature. In fact I'd like to point out to Ms. Mo-Fo-Nature that I am kind to creatures big and small and I go out of my way to recycle. So Mother Nature, if you're reading this blog please don't kill me or my friends and family. I promise to bear in mind what a tiny speck I am in the big scheme of things. You know, except on my birthday and stuff.
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Cheezy McWheezy
It was really exciting to get this card and newsletter in the mail from Bob & Erika Clarke! They are so thoughtful to have put together the family photo card and newsletter and send one to me. It feels good to be included.
A New Baby?! I had no idea Erika was even pregnant. And if you look above you can see that they handwrote in the nickname they made up for me. Cheezy McWheezy!
Yes, sometimes I can come across as a bit jaded, it's true. But it's always great to hear from dear friends and family during the holiday season. Who doesn't love learning that a newborn baby has become part of the family? It's must be an exciting thing to experience bringing a new life into the world. Isn't little baby Zane just adorable? Well, I guess that makes me a proud... nothing. Because I have never, seen these people before in my life. I have absolutely no idea who they are. This card & letter just showed up specifically addressed to me. Weird. So, from now on I'm going to make it a Holiday tradition and write to the Clarke Clan every Christmas and on Zane's birthday. Those zany Clarkes. What'll they be up to next?
Merry Christmas Everybody
Love, Cheezy McWheezy!
XOXO
P.S. My next Post will be on January 1st, 2005 (That's Jan 2nd if you're in Australia)
P.P.S if you look at the bottom of my blog page you'll see I added a chat room. Come by for a visit in 2005!
And the unsexy writing award goes too...
...American Author Tom Wolfe. Congrats Tommy! As a writer who has also received the obscure and utterly lame S.H.I.N.E. Award (Sexual Health in Entertainment) for my hilarious Jesse episode where, now get this brilliant comedic twist, While on a scavenger hunt Jesse (Christina Applegate) finds a lost BABY. How outlandishly genius of me.
*sigh* I sure miss sitting around a table of bitter rich TV writers mining for that comedy gold until 4am in the morning.
But this post isn't just about me. I love the "sexy" writing examples they give.
According to the Associated Press, the acclaimed American author and journalist Tom Wolfe won one of the world's most dreaded literary accolades -- the British prize for bad sex in fiction.
The prize is awarded each year to "draw attention to the crude, tasteless, often perfunctory use of redundant passages of sexual description in the modern novel."
Wolfe won it for a a few passages from his latest novel entitled "I am Charlotte Simmons," a tale of campus life at an exclusive American university. Sex on college campus? A sacred place of learning?!
"Slither slither slither slither went the tongue," one of Wolfe's winning sentences begins.
"But the hand that was what she tried to concentrate on, the hand, since it has the entire terrain of her torso to explore and not just the otorhinolaryngological caverns -- oh God, it was not just at the border where the flesh of the breast joins the pectoral sheath of the chest -- no, the hand was cupping her entire right -- Now!"
Wow he just used the naughty "O word" I'm steaming in my jeans.
The British Judges described Wolfe's prose as "ghastly and boring." Can't you just picture these pompus judges like a bunch of sex-crazed school lads stumbling on some of Father's nudie mags? Does that mean that somebody goes through all the books each year to read just the naughty parts? Sounds like a job for a certain Sheriff I know.
Wolfe, the former Washington Post correspondent, whose debut novel "Bonfire of the Vanities" was a highly regarded text of the 1980s, fought off stiff competition from 10 other authors including South African Andre Brink, whose novel "Before I Forget" contains the following description of a woman's vulva:
"It was like a large exotic mushroom in the fork of a tree, a little pleasure dome if ever I've seen one, where Alph the sacred river ran down to a tideless sea. No, not tideless. Her tides were convulsive, an ebb and flow that could take you very far, far back, before hurling you out, wildly and triumphantly, on a ribbed and windswept beach without end." Wait, tides huh? Who doesn't find confusion to be really sexy.
Another writer who only narrowly escaped the prize was Britain's Nadeem Aslam for his novel "Maps for Lost Lovers" a tale of life in a Muslim community in an English town.
"His mouth looked for the oiled berry," one of his raunchiest passages starts. Hmmm... oiled berry? That must refer to-- yipes! Might it have been sexier to say "an engorged clitoris coated in vaginal secretions."
Another Aslam passage starts with, "The smell of his armpits was on her shoulders -- a flower depositing pollen on a hummingbird's forehead." My, my, birds and pollen. Who could possibly keep their hand from speeding southbound on the I-69 after reading that raunchy love metaphor?
The winner of the award, presented by the London-based Literary Review, gets a little Oscar-style statuette and a bottle of champagne -- but only if he or she comes to the awards ceremony in person. Tom Wolfe, was the first writer in the 12-year history of the competition to decline his invitation.
"Slither, slither, slither, slither went the tongue." Is it just me or is it getting exceedingly hot in here? Okay, admittedly, had I written that "sexy sentence" I wouldn't have the nerve to show my face either. In fact, I'd stop putting my picture on the back of the book jacket.
*sigh* I sure miss sitting around a table of bitter rich TV writers mining for that comedy gold until 4am in the morning.
But this post isn't just about me. I love the "sexy" writing examples they give.
According to the Associated Press, the acclaimed American author and journalist Tom Wolfe won one of the world's most dreaded literary accolades -- the British prize for bad sex in fiction.
The prize is awarded each year to "draw attention to the crude, tasteless, often perfunctory use of redundant passages of sexual description in the modern novel."
Wolfe won it for a a few passages from his latest novel entitled "I am Charlotte Simmons," a tale of campus life at an exclusive American university. Sex on college campus? A sacred place of learning?!
"Slither slither slither slither went the tongue," one of Wolfe's winning sentences begins.
"But the hand that was what she tried to concentrate on, the hand, since it has the entire terrain of her torso to explore and not just the otorhinolaryngological caverns -- oh God, it was not just at the border where the flesh of the breast joins the pectoral sheath of the chest -- no, the hand was cupping her entire right -- Now!"
Wow he just used the naughty "O word" I'm steaming in my jeans.
The British Judges described Wolfe's prose as "ghastly and boring." Can't you just picture these pompus judges like a bunch of sex-crazed school lads stumbling on some of Father's nudie mags? Does that mean that somebody goes through all the books each year to read just the naughty parts? Sounds like a job for a certain Sheriff I know.
Wolfe, the former Washington Post correspondent, whose debut novel "Bonfire of the Vanities" was a highly regarded text of the 1980s, fought off stiff competition from 10 other authors including South African Andre Brink, whose novel "Before I Forget" contains the following description of a woman's vulva:
"It was like a large exotic mushroom in the fork of a tree, a little pleasure dome if ever I've seen one, where Alph the sacred river ran down to a tideless sea. No, not tideless. Her tides were convulsive, an ebb and flow that could take you very far, far back, before hurling you out, wildly and triumphantly, on a ribbed and windswept beach without end." Wait, tides huh? Who doesn't find confusion to be really sexy.
Another writer who only narrowly escaped the prize was Britain's Nadeem Aslam for his novel "Maps for Lost Lovers" a tale of life in a Muslim community in an English town.
"His mouth looked for the oiled berry," one of his raunchiest passages starts. Hmmm... oiled berry? That must refer to-- yipes! Might it have been sexier to say "an engorged clitoris coated in vaginal secretions."
Another Aslam passage starts with, "The smell of his armpits was on her shoulders -- a flower depositing pollen on a hummingbird's forehead." My, my, birds and pollen. Who could possibly keep their hand from speeding southbound on the I-69 after reading that raunchy love metaphor?
The winner of the award, presented by the London-based Literary Review, gets a little Oscar-style statuette and a bottle of champagne -- but only if he or she comes to the awards ceremony in person. Tom Wolfe, was the first writer in the 12-year history of the competition to decline his invitation.
"Slither, slither, slither, slither went the tongue." Is it just me or is it getting exceedingly hot in here? Okay, admittedly, had I written that "sexy sentence" I wouldn't have the nerve to show my face either. In fact, I'd stop putting my picture on the back of the book jacket.
Kuriosity Killed The Krankiboy
I got this in my email inbox today. I don't know who these people are so I am afraid to open it.
From: Gino Hess: Subject: Reinaldo call your brother to do it.
It seems suspicious. It could possibly be a virus, but I'm really curious to find out. In fact I'm dying. So if any of you are feeling lucky or have some office computer where you don't care if it gets infected then by all means open it and tell me what it's about. Aren't you dying to know what Gino wants Reinaldo to ask his brother to do?
Oh, what a quandary.
From: Gino Hess: Subject: Reinaldo call your brother to do it.
It seems suspicious. It could possibly be a virus, but I'm really curious to find out. In fact I'm dying. So if any of you are feeling lucky or have some office computer where you don't care if it gets infected then by all means open it and tell me what it's about. Aren't you dying to know what Gino wants Reinaldo to ask his brother to do?
Oh, what a quandary.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Hath I offended thee?
Well Then! It has come to my (rather limited) attention that certain people, who shall remain nameless, have been offended by some of my recent posts. I always, always, always do my best to adhere strictly to the standards set forth by The Pope about proper blogging etiquette. If I think something is questionable or possibly in poor taste I look to Jesus. I think out loud to myself... "What would Jesus think? What would Jesus do?" Then I get a large glass of water, pour it out "magically" turning the water into wine. Then I drink it and like a true miracle the worry melts away. In this case I'm just gonna stay the course, fight the good fight and ask that you always be prepared to be offended when you visit my blog. Point of fact I was actually putting the finishing touches on a blog post entirely about disturbing images and was scouring the net for truly foul pictures, but in light of the fact that these rather tame posts are getting panties wadded into a bunchy knot I will refrain.
Wait, no, I won't. I'll have something very nasty in store for the first post of the new year. There are so many eerie and gross images, that I'm having a difficult time selecting them and putting them in order of repulsiveness.
This post has been endorsed and blessed by his Grand Holiness using fresh, pure Vatican spring water. I think somebody should snaz up the Popemobile and Pimp out that ride so that his eminence has a tight, and kick-ass set of wheels.
Wait, no, I won't. I'll have something very nasty in store for the first post of the new year. There are so many eerie and gross images, that I'm having a difficult time selecting them and putting them in order of repulsiveness.
This post has been endorsed and blessed by his Grand Holiness using fresh, pure Vatican spring water. I think somebody should snaz up the Popemobile and Pimp out that ride so that his eminence has a tight, and kick-ass set of wheels.
Monday, December 20, 2004
Virtually Sexy and Utterly Twisted
I love the comedy of Text-to-speech converters! Why is that? Well, follow these steps and you'll see. It's quite simple and very worthwhile. Send me your own writing that I can convert.
1) Don't read the faded text below. Just copy it.
2) Click HERE
3) Now paste the text in the box to the left where it says "enter text."
4) Select Audrey (UK) from the voice choices on the right.
5) Press "Say It!" Wait a few seconds and then turn your speakers way up.
http://snipurl.com/bfly
COPY the faded text BELOW - Don't read it, just paste it.
I like that. Yeah! Fuck me hard daddy. All the way! Fuck me deep! Yes yessss yesss. Oh I'm gonna pop! Don't stop. I need your beefy man-cream down deep in my wet, hot, pussy. I want you to pound me, raw. Raw and hard! oh. Oh! OH!!! I can feel your man juice filling me up. So good. You fuck harder than my sister with a strap on. Ram that shit in. Ram it in Baby! Yessss! You're bruising my liver and I love it. Fuck me until my ears bleed. Aahhh. Oh God, yes! Okay, I'm done. Let's order some chinese food. I'll put a chop stick up your arse for dessert!
1) Don't read the faded text below. Just copy it.
2) Click HERE
3) Now paste the text in the box to the left where it says "enter text."
4) Select Audrey (UK) from the voice choices on the right.
5) Press "Say It!" Wait a few seconds and then turn your speakers way up.
http://snipurl.com/bfly
COPY the faded text BELOW - Don't read it, just paste it.
I like that. Yeah! Fuck me hard daddy. All the way! Fuck me deep! Yes yessss yesss. Oh I'm gonna pop! Don't stop. I need your beefy man-cream down deep in my wet, hot, pussy. I want you to pound me, raw. Raw and hard! oh. Oh! OH!!! I can feel your man juice filling me up. So good. You fuck harder than my sister with a strap on. Ram that shit in. Ram it in Baby! Yessss! You're bruising my liver and I love it. Fuck me until my ears bleed. Aahhh. Oh God, yes! Okay, I'm done. Let's order some chinese food. I'll put a chop stick up your arse for dessert!
Miss Plastic Surgery!
China's economy has started to boom in the urban areas. Income has increased so naturally once you have this increased wealth you're going to want to run right out and have your face and body surgically altered. Personally I don't even think that there's any urgent need for little girls to rush out and get their ears pierced. I see people who have little babies with earrings. Was that the babies idea? Probably not. This news story made me a bit angry and a bit ill. You know the world is spinning off it's axis when even the Communists are getting selfish and vain. Whatever happened to the glory of equality and harmonious communism?
China crowns Miss Plastic Surgery!
I imagine there are some other great pageants that we could put together. I'm sure it won't be long before we see The Miss Chicks with Dicks Pageant.
Wwhat if it were to become more fashionable or more aesthetically pleasing to have only one eye. I'm sure that there will be some "doctor" with laser scalpel in hand who'd be delighted to remove that pesky second eye and relocate the remaining eye into the middle of your forehead for that new and sexy Cyclops look. I thought things were out of hand here in L.A. but Christ on Crispy Fried Rice, China has got us beat by a mile. The real fun will start when these surgically "improved" people start having children who aren't as beautiful as they are. I hope little Kay-Yung-Soo doesn't miss too much kindergarten while she's recovering from her nose job surgery.
I'm feeling queasy and I'm now going to search ebay to see if anybody has put their conjoined twin up for auction.
China crowns Miss Plastic Surgery!
I imagine there are some other great pageants that we could put together. I'm sure it won't be long before we see The Miss Chicks with Dicks Pageant.
Wwhat if it were to become more fashionable or more aesthetically pleasing to have only one eye. I'm sure that there will be some "doctor" with laser scalpel in hand who'd be delighted to remove that pesky second eye and relocate the remaining eye into the middle of your forehead for that new and sexy Cyclops look. I thought things were out of hand here in L.A. but Christ on Crispy Fried Rice, China has got us beat by a mile. The real fun will start when these surgically "improved" people start having children who aren't as beautiful as they are. I hope little Kay-Yung-Soo doesn't miss too much kindergarten while she's recovering from her nose job surgery.
I'm feeling queasy and I'm now going to search ebay to see if anybody has put their conjoined twin up for auction.
Random and Wrong
I want just about everything that they sell at Wellcoolstuff.com
Finally the cinematic reunion we've all been waiting for! Talk about star power!
What in the name of knitting is that?! It's either a winter weight Mexican wrestler mask or Gimp Gear for kids. Where are the yarn handcuffs and needlepoint ball gag?
God is a Sports Fan!
Just once I want to see a sports star lose a big game and when the reporters come over to ask him what went wrong he'd say, "It's fuckin' God's fault, we had a solid lead going into the second half and he just shit on us. We were moving the ball really well and then through no fault of our own God decided to smite us or some shit like that. If this screws up my sneaker endorsement deal I'm going after his ass!"
Saturday, December 18, 2004
Word Junkie Gets His Fix
I am a word junkie. I love when somebody uses just the right word at just the right moment that perfectly describes the nearly indescribable. If words had a band and traveled around playing music I would be in my Volkswagen Bus following them around the country, and constantly trying to get backstage to try and rip off a piece of their sweaty clothes. There are some words that I have used and supported over the years who have never been fully appreciated. Take a gander at word # 10 on Webster on-line most searched list.
Based on your online lookups, the #1 Word of the Year for 2004 was
Blog noun [short for Weblog] (1999) : a Web site that contains an online personal journal with reflections, comments, and often hyperlinks provided by the writerClick on each of the other words in the Top Ten List for their definitions in the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary:
2. incumbent 3. electoral 4. insurgent 5. hurricane 6. cicada 7. peloton : noun (1951) : the main body of riders in a bicycle race 8. partisan 9. sovereignty 10. defenestration
I am so oddly delighted that defenestration made the list. I feel like a proud dad who has just seen his son kick the game-winning goal. Look out all you jizzwiches 'cause 2005 is gonna be the year of the fustigation. Fustigation is gonna fustigate all you sorry-ass muther-fuckers words.
Do you have a favorite word that you'd like to share with the Khronicle readers? Yeah, that's what I figured. If not then just vote for your favorite Lesbian make-out photo.
Based on your online lookups, the #1 Word of the Year for 2004 was
Blog noun [short for Weblog] (1999) : a Web site that contains an online personal journal with reflections, comments, and often hyperlinks provided by the writerClick on each of the other words in the Top Ten List for their definitions in the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary:
2. incumbent 3. electoral 4. insurgent 5. hurricane 6. cicada 7. peloton : noun (1951) : the main body of riders in a bicycle race 8. partisan 9. sovereignty 10. defenestration
I am so oddly delighted that defenestration made the list. I feel like a proud dad who has just seen his son kick the game-winning goal. Look out all you jizzwiches 'cause 2005 is gonna be the year of the fustigation. Fustigation is gonna fustigate all you sorry-ass muther-fuckers words.
Do you have a favorite word that you'd like to share with the Khronicle readers? Yeah, that's what I figured. If not then just vote for your favorite Lesbian make-out photo.
Friday, December 17, 2004
Scientific Study or Shameless Blog Ratings Ploy?
Girls #1
Much like an inkblot test you can learn a great deal about a person from the type of pictures they respond to most strongly.
Take a look at each picture. How does it make you feel. Which one did you find yourself most fascinated by?
Girls #2
Girls #3
Girls #4
Girls #5
Girls #6
Girls #7
Girls #8
Girls #9
Girls #10
Girls #11
Girls # 12
Girls # 13
And... Girls #14
Remember, this is all in the name of Science. So, cast your vote now. Otherwise I've wasted both my time and yours with these frivolous pictures. Kindly comment on which is your favorite picture and why.
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Check it out M*ther F***ers
This, my friends is a Fucking A+ Music VIDEO
Can I get a "HELL YES!"?
If you don't like it you can suck on my Blzog yo!
Can I get a "HELL YES!"?
If you don't like it you can suck on my Blzog yo!
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Christmas is a Big Shiny Turd!
Is there a priest who can perform an exorcism to remove the Christmas spirit from my television? All these audio/visual commercial assaults on my delicate senses about shopping, and spending and Christmas time Capitalism are starting to seriously irritate me. They are quickly eroding my traditional good cheer and holiday spirit. I usually like Gift-giving day. So what gives? Well, for one thing, apparently, if I don't buy my wife a diamond pendant or a Lexus sedan or some other high-end luxury item for Christmas I'm a big loser. At least that's what the television has been not so shyly telling me for the past three weeks. I long for a country house away from everything but a nice clean lake with nothing to do but sit by the fire drink spirits, read good books and play with my dogs. Somewhere far away from the traffic grime and Thermo-nuclear blitzkrieg of "BUY THIS or you will never be happy/you don't own one of these, you loser?!" adverts.
Where did things go astray? Television and I used to be such good friends, I just don't know what happened. There was a time not so long ago when the two of us would spend long hours gazing lovingly into one another's flickering eyes. It was special, it was intimate. It was just me and the TV. It was our time. I was in my own private little bubble of bliss, away from the realities of reality. Sweet, sweet, Television, the only-child-who-doesn't-yet-have-a-dog's best friend.
Did I ever share the fact that my Father was in a commune back when we lived in San Francisco and he attempted to kidnap me when I was was 2 years old? True. It's on days like this that I kind of wish he'd succeeded. Perhaps I'd be skipping barefoot across a meadow or mending a barrel or killed by lack of proper medical care.
Chin up. Don't fret for me. Fear not by fellow Greedy capitalist Pig-dogs. I'm quite sure that this feeling will soon pass and I will once again become a good little consumer by the time Christ's Birthday rolls around. Nobody can resist the power and lure of shiny things, gadgets, expensive clothes and the joyous temporary bandage they provide for one's self-esteem. The only other option is to be a genuine person of character and integrity and that just sounds like a lot of hard work and effort.
I'd like to be able to slap a siren onto the roof of my car, and become authorized to find one of these people driving their uber-expensive, overpriced, "my-cock-is-as-huge-as my bank account style SUV" with their personalized narcisistic L.A.rific license plates. I'd pull their shallow morally bankrupt ass out of the vehicle and cuff their arms to their legs. I would then promptly and professionally inform them that their values are all fucked up and so "I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you down to the station and administer a thick and robust beating to your face and torso." A police baton would feel very nice in my hands today. So that's what you can stuff up my stocking. A nice police baton. Or maybe some shiny throwing stars like I always wanted when I was a kid. See that! Look I do want something! Hooray! The magic of Christmas Greed has already begun to reposses my mind and body. Next I'll be strolling the streets singing Christmas carols, slinging rock and sucking dick just to buy that nifty item on my wish list that I simply can not live without. Christmas is just Heroin disguised as a Fat bearded man in a Red Suit. Sure you could try and kick the habit it, but does that really feel like the right choice? Wouldn't you rather have something high-tech or sparkly? And Merry Christmas to you, too, Tiny Tim! I just know in my heart that Santa will bring you a brand new leg this year.
Sunday, December 12, 2004
Somebody Down There Likes Me :)
Oh. My. God! I am so happy that I just accidentally spelled God with a capital "G". My Platonic Life Partner and the Sherrif have sent me such good goodies. It makes me feel as happy as the panties in this picture! I had to cover some of the postcard because it was a bit too HARD CORE even for the Krankiboy Khronicles. I am now going to TRY and sleep as it is almost time to get up.
There's no such place as Australia!
Along with not believing in Santa I was also pretty sure that kangaroos were probably made up too. Who could trust what an adult told you after being lied to with all that Santa Claus bullshit. Fuck them, they got me once with the North Pole Crap so I wasn't about to buy into this Land Down Under Australia nonsense. And for several years I had serious doubts about Australia with its funny talking people and weird-ass Koala Bears and Dingos? The hell is a dingo? Go sell your story to some other sucker kid. I simply wasn't buying it.
Well, if I had any lingering notions that Australia was only as real as Atlantis or the Easter Bunny all doubt has been removed. I received not 1 but 2 packages from Australia this week. So to all of you kids who are reading this blog (scary thought) Australia is REAL and THAT kiddies is where the Christmas Elves live. The Elves sent me a lovely gift package. Sure, I could tell you what was in the package, but let's just suffice it to say you couldn't walk in and buy what was in my package at any store in the US of A. It is some good shit! Thank you Elves!
Well, if I had any lingering notions that Australia was only as real as Atlantis or the Easter Bunny all doubt has been removed. I received not 1 but 2 packages from Australia this week. So to all of you kids who are reading this blog (scary thought) Australia is REAL and THAT kiddies is where the Christmas Elves live. The Elves sent me a lovely gift package. Sure, I could tell you what was in the package, but let's just suffice it to say you couldn't walk in and buy what was in my package at any store in the US of A. It is some good shit! Thank you Elves!
There's no such thing as Santa!
When I was a little boy- no, this isn't a post about masturbation or touching my first pair of boobies but feel free to read on anyway. (F.Y.I. It was Cousin Meg laundry room age 11) I'll start again. When I was about seven-years-old I had a few things wrong about the world we lived in. I thought that eggs cam out of a chicken's butt and so that's why they smelled weird. I didn't eat eggs until I was 16. I thought that all the kids who wrote letters to Santa Clause were idiots. I knew that there wasn't some fat man in a red suit sliding down my chimney to give me presents. How could one out of shape old man possibly deliver all those gifts? Clearly I knew something they didn't. The ones leaving all the presents were the ELVES. That's who could fit down the chimneys, deliver all those presents and eat cookies left out for this bogus Santa. I reasoned that Santa was probably just a famous Elf from a long time ago, kind of like the Elven version of George Washington, Jesus and Papa Smurf rolled into one badly dressed chubby guy.
This theory made me wonder why the Elves didn't like the Jews. Because the Jews didn't get toys for Christmas or put up Christmas trees. I told my Jewish friends that the Elves will only leave you presents if you have a nicely decorated tree. The Keebler Elves lived in a tree and they sure seemed to love cookies. All the puzzle pieces were fitting snugly together. So naturally I needed to catch an Elf to be sure that my theory was correct. So I set an Elf Trap over our fireplace. It was a trip wire trap that would pull a knit quilt and building blocks down on top of them when they set it off. Sadly I failed to catch an Elf that year. In fact before I could even draw up plans for next year's Elf Trap I discovered that it was actually the parents who leave the presents. I saw it on some TV commercial. My grandmother was the first to crack after I repeatedly interrogated her on the subject. That was the very same year that the tooth fairy stopped leaving me money underneath my pillow. Ignorance is blissful. I hope when I have kids I can keep them fooled all the way through high school. Who really wants to look behind the curtain and see that there isn't really a Wizard of Oz. I'm sure I can hire some cute midget actor in an Elf suit.
This theory made me wonder why the Elves didn't like the Jews. Because the Jews didn't get toys for Christmas or put up Christmas trees. I told my Jewish friends that the Elves will only leave you presents if you have a nicely decorated tree. The Keebler Elves lived in a tree and they sure seemed to love cookies. All the puzzle pieces were fitting snugly together. So naturally I needed to catch an Elf to be sure that my theory was correct. So I set an Elf Trap over our fireplace. It was a trip wire trap that would pull a knit quilt and building blocks down on top of them when they set it off. Sadly I failed to catch an Elf that year. In fact before I could even draw up plans for next year's Elf Trap I discovered that it was actually the parents who leave the presents. I saw it on some TV commercial. My grandmother was the first to crack after I repeatedly interrogated her on the subject. That was the very same year that the tooth fairy stopped leaving me money underneath my pillow. Ignorance is blissful. I hope when I have kids I can keep them fooled all the way through high school. Who really wants to look behind the curtain and see that there isn't really a Wizard of Oz. I'm sure I can hire some cute midget actor in an Elf suit.
Friday, December 10, 2004
Thursday, December 09, 2004
Mark Your Satanic Calendars :)
I found a Satanic Calendar. It made me wonder.
I imagine this is how one of their E-vite reminders might read.
Hey there fellow Satanists! I just wanted to send you an email to remind you of the Picnic of Tortured Souls next Sunday at my place.
Todd, can you bring the potato salad? Janet is bringing cups and fruit punch and diet Sprite. Beelzebub is making his spicy seven layer bean dip. Yummy, yum, yum. Also don’t forget it's B.Y.O.F.V. (Bring Your Own Female Virgins 7-17 years of age) I've got plenty of plastic cutlery and plates left over from last month's Disemboweling Orgy but we can always use extra napkins. HA HA! On street parking will be limited so please try and carpool or get there early to get a spot. I will have plenty of hamburgers and chicken wings and barbecued baby fingers. Don't worry, I have some Veggie-burgers for you non-meat eaters! Just look for the big baby blue house with the 12 foot pentagram sculpture made of human bones and excrement out front. You can’t miss it. Can’t wait to see y’all there.
Aimee, subservient supplicant of The Dark Lord :)
Oh and according to the calendar I found (see below) there are only about 15 shopping days left before Grand High Climax Day! (Dec 24th)
I'm not a Satanist but that sounds like an intensely fucking cool holiday.
The Satanic Calendar:
This Satanic ritual calendar was compiled from seized sources by a member of a major metropolitan U.S. police department. It is being circulated by Ted Gundersen, retired FBI agent and investigator of Satanic crimes, who has appeared on the Geraldo Rivera show.
It should be noted that in southern California, the sensational kidnappings of 5 children were grouped in the several days immediately preceding the dates when children of such age groups were required for the specific rituals of each Satanic holiday.
DATE CELEBRATED TYPE USAGE AGE
Jan. 7 St. Winebald Day Blood (if human) Animal or Human Sacrifice Male
Jan. 17 Satanic Revels Sexual Oral/Anal/Vaginal Female 7-17 yrs
Feb. 2 Satanic Revels Sexual Oral/Anal/Vaginal Female 7-17
Feb. 25 St. Walpurgis Day Blood Host of Blood & Dismemberment Animal
Mar. 1 St. Eichatadt Blood Drinking of Human Blood for Strength and Homage to the Demons Male or Female
Mar. 20 Feast Day Orgies — Spring Equinox —
April 19-26 Preparation for the Sacrifice
April 26-31 Grand Climax Da Muer Corpus de Baal Oral/Anal/Vaginal Female 1--25 yrs
Jun.21 Feast Day Orgies — Summer Solstice —
Jul. 1 Demon Revels Blood Droids Sexual Sensual Association with the Demons Female any age
Aug. 3 Satanic Revels Sexual Oral/Anal/Vaginal F 1-17
Sep. 7 Marriage to the Beast Satan Sexual Sacrifice Dismemberment Female under 21
Sep. 20 Midnight Host Blood Dismemberment Hands Planted Female under age
Sep. 22 Feast Day Orgies — Fall/Autumn Equinox —
Oct. 29-Nov. 1 All Hallow’s Blood & Sexual Climax/Sensual Assoc. with the Sexual Demons Any Human M or F
Nov. 4 Satanic Revels Sexual Oral/Anal/Vaginal F 7-17
Dec. 8 Picnic of Tortured Souls – Skinning and Burning of Virgin Female 7-17
Dec. 22 Feast Day Orgies — Winter Solstice —
Dec. 24 Demon Revels Da Muer High Grand Climax M or F
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SABBATS/FESTIVALS
PAGANISM, WITCHCRAFT & SATANISM
Satanists and witches celebrate eight major Sabbats during the year. Each one holds special significance to them. In addition, Satanists hold a member’s birthdate in reverence. On these dates there should be a significant amount of activity amongst traditional worshippers of Satanism and witchcraft. If bizarre rituals are to occur, within organized satanic groups, they will most likely occur on or about one of these dates.
January 1st (New Years Day) A druid (spirit) Feast Day (lights fires on hill tops).
January 7th (St. Winebald Day) Animal or Human Sacrifice/Dismemberment (use a human male adult). Age 15-33.
January 17th Satanic Revels Celebrated- Sexual (oral/anal/vaginal). Use Females Age 7- 17.
January 20th (St. Agnes’s Eve) Divination (see future husband). Cast spells.
February 2nd (Candlemas) - One of the Witches Sabbats (Sexual-oral/anal/Vaginal). Uses Females Age 7-17.
February 25th (St. Walpugis Day) Host of Blood and Dismemberment. Uses animals.
March 1st (St. Eichatadt) Drinking of human blood for strength and homage to Demons. Use both Males and Females.
March 20th (Feast Day) - Spring Equinox. Orgies.
APRIL 19-26TH (PREPARATION FOR THE SACRIFICE)
April 24th (St. Marks Eve) Divining/Herb gathering
APRIL 26--31ST (GRAND CLIMAX/DA MUER) Corpus de Baahl. Uses Females Age 1-25.
MAY 1st (BELTANE-- MAY DAY) Fire festival (same as above).
June 21st (Feast Day) - Summer solstice. Orgies.
June 23rd (midsummer’s Eve or St. John’s Eve) most important time for the practice of Magic-fire festival.
July 1st (Demon Revels Celebrated) Druids Sexual Sensual Association with the Demons. Use Females of any age.
July 25th (St James’ Day) Gathering of Herbs.
August 1st (Lammas) --Great Sabbat. Feast of the Sun God. The beginning of autumn and the harvest season.
August 3rd (Satanic Revels) -- use Females Age 7 -17. Oral/Anal/Vaginal.
August 24th (St. Bartholomew’s Day) - Great Sabbat and Fire Festival. Large herb gathering.
September 7th (Marriage to the Beast Satan) - Sacrifice/Dismemberment. Female child under the age of 21.
September 20th (midnight Host) - Dismemberment. Hands planted. Use Female child under the age of 21.
September 22nd (Feast Day) - Fall/Autumn Equinox. Orgies.
October 29 - November 1st (All Hollows Eve) - Sexual climax, sensual association with the demons. Use any human male or female.
October 31st (Halloween) - Great Sabbat and Fire Festival. Night dead thought to return to earth.
November 4th (Satanic Revels) Sexual oral/anal/vaginal. Use Females After 7-17.
December 21st (St. Thomas’ Day) - Great Sabbat and Fire Festival.
December 24th - (Demon Revels/Da Muer) - High Grand Climax. Use Males or Females.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Individuals Birthday - Highest of all holidays - involves victim and someone in authority.
Shrovetide (3 days before Ash Wednesday) Another witches Sabbat date.
Good Friday/Black Mass
Easter -- Children given to High Priest (rebirth to Satan).
Add five weeks and one day to dates will present the Grand Climax to all underworld Demons.
All holiday’s dates change from year to year according to the satanic calendar and differs from cult to cult.
I imagine this is how one of their E-vite reminders might read.
Hey there fellow Satanists! I just wanted to send you an email to remind you of the Picnic of Tortured Souls next Sunday at my place.
Todd, can you bring the potato salad? Janet is bringing cups and fruit punch and diet Sprite. Beelzebub is making his spicy seven layer bean dip. Yummy, yum, yum. Also don’t forget it's B.Y.O.F.V. (Bring Your Own Female Virgins 7-17 years of age) I've got plenty of plastic cutlery and plates left over from last month's Disemboweling Orgy but we can always use extra napkins. HA HA! On street parking will be limited so please try and carpool or get there early to get a spot. I will have plenty of hamburgers and chicken wings and barbecued baby fingers. Don't worry, I have some Veggie-burgers for you non-meat eaters! Just look for the big baby blue house with the 12 foot pentagram sculpture made of human bones and excrement out front. You can’t miss it. Can’t wait to see y’all there.
Aimee, subservient supplicant of The Dark Lord :)
Oh and according to the calendar I found (see below) there are only about 15 shopping days left before Grand High Climax Day! (Dec 24th)
I'm not a Satanist but that sounds like an intensely fucking cool holiday.
The Satanic Calendar:
This Satanic ritual calendar was compiled from seized sources by a member of a major metropolitan U.S. police department. It is being circulated by Ted Gundersen, retired FBI agent and investigator of Satanic crimes, who has appeared on the Geraldo Rivera show.
It should be noted that in southern California, the sensational kidnappings of 5 children were grouped in the several days immediately preceding the dates when children of such age groups were required for the specific rituals of each Satanic holiday.
DATE CELEBRATED TYPE USAGE AGE
Jan. 7 St. Winebald Day Blood (if human) Animal or Human Sacrifice Male
Jan. 17 Satanic Revels Sexual Oral/Anal/Vaginal Female 7-17 yrs
Feb. 2 Satanic Revels Sexual Oral/Anal/Vaginal Female 7-17
Feb. 25 St. Walpurgis Day Blood Host of Blood & Dismemberment Animal
Mar. 1 St. Eichatadt Blood Drinking of Human Blood for Strength and Homage to the Demons Male or Female
Mar. 20 Feast Day Orgies — Spring Equinox —
April 19-26 Preparation for the Sacrifice
April 26-31 Grand Climax Da Muer Corpus de Baal Oral/Anal/Vaginal Female 1--25 yrs
Jun.21 Feast Day Orgies — Summer Solstice —
Jul. 1 Demon Revels Blood Droids Sexual Sensual Association with the Demons Female any age
Aug. 3 Satanic Revels Sexual Oral/Anal/Vaginal F 1-17
Sep. 7 Marriage to the Beast Satan Sexual Sacrifice Dismemberment Female under 21
Sep. 20 Midnight Host Blood Dismemberment Hands Planted Female under age
Sep. 22 Feast Day Orgies — Fall/Autumn Equinox —
Oct. 29-Nov. 1 All Hallow’s Blood & Sexual Climax/Sensual Assoc. with the Sexual Demons Any Human M or F
Nov. 4 Satanic Revels Sexual Oral/Anal/Vaginal F 7-17
Dec. 8 Picnic of Tortured Souls – Skinning and Burning of Virgin Female 7-17
Dec. 22 Feast Day Orgies — Winter Solstice —
Dec. 24 Demon Revels Da Muer High Grand Climax M or F
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SABBATS/FESTIVALS
PAGANISM, WITCHCRAFT & SATANISM
Satanists and witches celebrate eight major Sabbats during the year. Each one holds special significance to them. In addition, Satanists hold a member’s birthdate in reverence. On these dates there should be a significant amount of activity amongst traditional worshippers of Satanism and witchcraft. If bizarre rituals are to occur, within organized satanic groups, they will most likely occur on or about one of these dates.
January 1st (New Years Day) A druid (spirit) Feast Day (lights fires on hill tops).
January 7th (St. Winebald Day) Animal or Human Sacrifice/Dismemberment (use a human male adult). Age 15-33.
January 17th Satanic Revels Celebrated- Sexual (oral/anal/vaginal). Use Females Age 7- 17.
January 20th (St. Agnes’s Eve) Divination (see future husband). Cast spells.
February 2nd (Candlemas) - One of the Witches Sabbats (Sexual-oral/anal/Vaginal). Uses Females Age 7-17.
February 25th (St. Walpugis Day) Host of Blood and Dismemberment. Uses animals.
March 1st (St. Eichatadt) Drinking of human blood for strength and homage to Demons. Use both Males and Females.
March 20th (Feast Day) - Spring Equinox. Orgies.
APRIL 19-26TH (PREPARATION FOR THE SACRIFICE)
April 24th (St. Marks Eve) Divining/Herb gathering
APRIL 26--31ST (GRAND CLIMAX/DA MUER) Corpus de Baahl. Uses Females Age 1-25.
MAY 1st (BELTANE-- MAY DAY) Fire festival (same as above).
June 21st (Feast Day) - Summer solstice. Orgies.
June 23rd (midsummer’s Eve or St. John’s Eve) most important time for the practice of Magic-fire festival.
July 1st (Demon Revels Celebrated) Druids Sexual Sensual Association with the Demons. Use Females of any age.
July 25th (St James’ Day) Gathering of Herbs.
August 1st (Lammas) --Great Sabbat. Feast of the Sun God. The beginning of autumn and the harvest season.
August 3rd (Satanic Revels) -- use Females Age 7 -17. Oral/Anal/Vaginal.
August 24th (St. Bartholomew’s Day) - Great Sabbat and Fire Festival. Large herb gathering.
September 7th (Marriage to the Beast Satan) - Sacrifice/Dismemberment. Female child under the age of 21.
September 20th (midnight Host) - Dismemberment. Hands planted. Use Female child under the age of 21.
September 22nd (Feast Day) - Fall/Autumn Equinox. Orgies.
October 29 - November 1st (All Hollows Eve) - Sexual climax, sensual association with the demons. Use any human male or female.
October 31st (Halloween) - Great Sabbat and Fire Festival. Night dead thought to return to earth.
November 4th (Satanic Revels) Sexual oral/anal/vaginal. Use Females After 7-17.
December 21st (St. Thomas’ Day) - Great Sabbat and Fire Festival.
December 24th - (Demon Revels/Da Muer) - High Grand Climax. Use Males or Females.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Individuals Birthday - Highest of all holidays - involves victim and someone in authority.
Shrovetide (3 days before Ash Wednesday) Another witches Sabbat date.
Good Friday/Black Mass
Easter -- Children given to High Priest (rebirth to Satan).
Add five weeks and one day to dates will present the Grand Climax to all underworld Demons.
All holiday’s dates change from year to year according to the satanic calendar and differs from cult to cult.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Krankiboy Share and Tell
This post was inspired by all my friends who live in Nadstown.
I have never...
Killed in cold blood
Run naked through the streets of Belgium
Made sweet love to a magician, illlusionist or professional foot model
Intentionally stolen anything from a blind person
Failed to "Oooo" and "Aaahhhh" at the sight of fireworks
Performed auto-erotic asphyxiation
Snorted cocaine off the hipbone of a hooker
Walked a mile in another man's shoes
Gone to bed as early as I should have
Told a celebrity I've met that "I'm a really big fan!"
Been been beaten up in a fight since I was six-years old
Visited the Australian penal colony
Smoked a cigarette in my life
Smoked some jive-ass nigga who tried to get all up in my shznit
Learned how to swim
Killed no deputy
Used sex as a weapon
Spent the night in a Turkish prison
I have...
Smashed a large glass of orange juice in my friends face because he was "using bad manners."
Sucessfully tied a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue
Lost four pairs of sunglasses in three days
Gotten exceptionally drunk and told the leader singer of Radiohead that "his songs made me happy" and "you totally rock."
Dressed in drag to try and impress a girl I wanted to date back in high school.
Broken up with somebody because she was too good at French kissing.
Eaten a pork dish in Mexico against the advice of my wife and then regretted it while vomiting up meat blobs the size of raccoons
Peed on a puppy to show him "how he likes it."
Tried several times to blow out a candle only to realize that it was actually a light bulb
Stolen something from most of the finer restaurants I've eaten at
Been propositioned for sex by men while wearing my tacky movie theatre "tuxedo" uniform
Swallowed a tablespoon of salt on a dare for one dollar
Spent a weekend in Vegas with Kato Kaelin
Dated "that girl" in high school who was always trying to get attention by threatening to kill herself... Later I heard she fucked the entire hockey team at her University. She confirmed the rumor.
Been simultaneously sneezed on by two little kids at the exact same time
Lost my moral compass
Tried to kill my pet cockateil using my wallet
Blatantly lied right into people's faces
Never fustigated or defenestrated anybody... yet
Used big words to try and make people think I am smarter than I am
Slipped and broken my nose after ignoring the suggestion to "tie my shoelace"
Gone from being the teacher's pet to the class clown in response to peer pressure.
Knocked myself unconscious by running into a large garbage dumpster and unsuccessfully jumping over a tennis net
Slipped and fallen on a patch of camel semen
Instantly grown bored listening to the sound of my own voice.
I have never...
Killed in cold blood
Run naked through the streets of Belgium
Made sweet love to a magician, illlusionist or professional foot model
Intentionally stolen anything from a blind person
Failed to "Oooo" and "Aaahhhh" at the sight of fireworks
Performed auto-erotic asphyxiation
Snorted cocaine off the hipbone of a hooker
Walked a mile in another man's shoes
Gone to bed as early as I should have
Told a celebrity I've met that "I'm a really big fan!"
Been been beaten up in a fight since I was six-years old
Visited the Australian penal colony
Smoked a cigarette in my life
Smoked some jive-ass nigga who tried to get all up in my shznit
Learned how to swim
Killed no deputy
Used sex as a weapon
Spent the night in a Turkish prison
I have...
Smashed a large glass of orange juice in my friends face because he was "using bad manners."
Sucessfully tied a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue
Lost four pairs of sunglasses in three days
Gotten exceptionally drunk and told the leader singer of Radiohead that "his songs made me happy" and "you totally rock."
Dressed in drag to try and impress a girl I wanted to date back in high school.
Broken up with somebody because she was too good at French kissing.
Eaten a pork dish in Mexico against the advice of my wife and then regretted it while vomiting up meat blobs the size of raccoons
Peed on a puppy to show him "how he likes it."
Tried several times to blow out a candle only to realize that it was actually a light bulb
Stolen something from most of the finer restaurants I've eaten at
Been propositioned for sex by men while wearing my tacky movie theatre "tuxedo" uniform
Swallowed a tablespoon of salt on a dare for one dollar
Spent a weekend in Vegas with Kato Kaelin
Dated "that girl" in high school who was always trying to get attention by threatening to kill herself... Later I heard she fucked the entire hockey team at her University. She confirmed the rumor.
Been simultaneously sneezed on by two little kids at the exact same time
Lost my moral compass
Tried to kill my pet cockateil using my wallet
Blatantly lied right into people's faces
Never fustigated or defenestrated anybody... yet
Used big words to try and make people think I am smarter than I am
Slipped and broken my nose after ignoring the suggestion to "tie my shoelace"
Gone from being the teacher's pet to the class clown in response to peer pressure.
Knocked myself unconscious by running into a large garbage dumpster and unsuccessfully jumping over a tennis net
Slipped and fallen on a patch of camel semen
Instantly grown bored listening to the sound of my own voice.
Monday, December 06, 2004
Lend a Hog a Helping Hand Job
Pig not degraded by televised sexual experience, British watchdog rules
Mon Nov 29,12:12 PM ET
Offbeat - AFP
LONDON (AFP) - In one of their more delicate rulings of recent years, British television watchdogs ruled that a pig sexually pleasured on television by a minor celebrity did not feel degraded by the experience.
Dozens of viewers complained about the episode in so-called reality television show "The Farm", in which a series of celebrities were sent to do tough work with agricultural crops and animals.
The audience were treated to the sight of Rebecca Loos, the self-proclaimed ex-lover of England football captain David Beckham, stimulating the boar for 10 minutes to produce a flask of semen.
Many viewers complained to the government's Office of Communications (Ofcom) that this was "akin to bestiality", while a leading animal charity condemned the scenes as "morbid and sordid".
But in a ruling released on Monday, Ofcom cleared broadcaster Channel Five of breaching decency standards, saying the procedure was perfectly normal.
"The task performed by Rebecca Loos is one that occurs regularly on UK farms. It was properly supervised by a qualified veterinary surgeon and was carried out for a genuine purpose -- to artificially inseminate the pigs on the 'celebrity farm'," the ruling said.
It added: "We don't believe that the scene was degrading or harmful to the boar."
Mon Nov 29,12:12 PM ET
Offbeat - AFP
LONDON (AFP) - In one of their more delicate rulings of recent years, British television watchdogs ruled that a pig sexually pleasured on television by a minor celebrity did not feel degraded by the experience.
Dozens of viewers complained about the episode in so-called reality television show "The Farm", in which a series of celebrities were sent to do tough work with agricultural crops and animals.
The audience were treated to the sight of Rebecca Loos, the self-proclaimed ex-lover of England football captain David Beckham, stimulating the boar for 10 minutes to produce a flask of semen.
Many viewers complained to the government's Office of Communications (Ofcom) that this was "akin to bestiality", while a leading animal charity condemned the scenes as "morbid and sordid".
But in a ruling released on Monday, Ofcom cleared broadcaster Channel Five of breaching decency standards, saying the procedure was perfectly normal.
"The task performed by Rebecca Loos is one that occurs regularly on UK farms. It was properly supervised by a qualified veterinary surgeon and was carried out for a genuine purpose -- to artificially inseminate the pigs on the 'celebrity farm'," the ruling said.
It added: "We don't believe that the scene was degrading or harmful to the boar."
Sunday, December 05, 2004
outsourcing
I was reading this article today, about new mannequins that sweat. I know, I know, it's in very poor taste. I was always taught that a real lady never lets anyone see her sweat.
But sweating on the job is not nearly as distasteful as companies who are outsourcing at every turn. Imagine having your job taken over by humans! This is called progress?
Apparently, the phenomenon of live modeling is gaining in popularity. It was even featured as a challenge on America's Next Top Model a few weeks ago. I for one am very concerned about this growing trend. I'm thinking about starting an activist group dedicated to supporting real models who deserve to keep their jobs. I'll keep you posted as I figure it out.
On a lighter note, please check out my new favorite band! They rock!
But sweating on the job is not nearly as distasteful as companies who are outsourcing at every turn. Imagine having your job taken over by humans! This is called progress?
Apparently, the phenomenon of live modeling is gaining in popularity. It was even featured as a challenge on America's Next Top Model a few weeks ago. I for one am very concerned about this growing trend. I'm thinking about starting an activist group dedicated to supporting real models who deserve to keep their jobs. I'll keep you posted as I figure it out.
On a lighter note, please check out my new favorite band! They rock!
hot bodies
I’ve been meaning to get started on a blog for a while, but always thought it would be too much work. This is great! So easy to use since it was already set up for me.
Lately I have been crushing really hard on these guys up the street. They are twins and so good looking! God broke the mold after making them.
Whew! I don’t have the courage to talk to them. I don’t really leave the house much either, so that makes it difficult. What would a girl say to such hotties? The only time I’ve ever spoken to them I blurted out, “Hey, nice packages!” but I know that they get that a lot. (They work at a package store. Get your minds out of the gutter)
In other news, I finally got a new job! I've been scared stiff that I might not find anything, and then, viola! it finally happened. After that bitch Kim Catrall took my part, I decided to get out of acting and into fashion. It's been hard finding work, but I finally did. For a while I thought that my sister would help me out with getting a job at her company, but she has it in for me. She's been a bitch ever since she gained weight, not to mention that she's been jealous of me after I gained accolades for winning the Great Boobie Off. I start my job on Monday. Wish me luck!
Lately I have been crushing really hard on these guys up the street. They are twins and so good looking! God broke the mold after making them.
Whew! I don’t have the courage to talk to them. I don’t really leave the house much either, so that makes it difficult. What would a girl say to such hotties? The only time I’ve ever spoken to them I blurted out, “Hey, nice packages!” but I know that they get that a lot. (They work at a package store. Get your minds out of the gutter)
In other news, I finally got a new job! I've been scared stiff that I might not find anything, and then, viola! it finally happened. After that bitch Kim Catrall took my part, I decided to get out of acting and into fashion. It's been hard finding work, but I finally did. For a while I thought that my sister would help me out with getting a job at her company, but she has it in for me. She's been a bitch ever since she gained weight, not to mention that she's been jealous of me after I gained accolades for winning the Great Boobie Off. I start my job on Monday. Wish me luck!
Saturday, December 04, 2004
Bonjour!
Dear readers,
As you know, Krankiboy is away on an unscheduled vacation, so I decided to keep up on the posting while he’s away. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.
If you are anything like me, you’ll have noticed this blog needed to be tidied up a little bit. I went ahead and cleaned up around here, and as you can see my changes are for the best! This new format is much more user friendly.
All the best, and keep reading!
Matilda
As you know, Krankiboy is away on an unscheduled vacation, so I decided to keep up on the posting while he’s away. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.
If you are anything like me, you’ll have noticed this blog needed to be tidied up a little bit. I went ahead and cleaned up around here, and as you can see my changes are for the best! This new format is much more user friendly.
All the best, and keep reading!
Matilda
Friday, December 03, 2004
Battle the Bunny
You want the Bunny?! You can't handle the bunny!
The bunnies will have their revenge for all those coats we made out of them.
Can you Battle the Bunny?
Thursday, December 02, 2004
Wife Beaters?
I don't go to the mall very often and I certainly didn't buy anything on B.N.D. (Buy Nothing Day Nov. 27th) but the very next day I mysteriously found myself coaxed into going to the Beverly Center Mall. I was waiting for my Vanilla Latte* when I overheard this bit of dialogue between two twenty-something young women.
Huge Orange Purse Chick: "Uch, Trish, forget about him he treated you like shit.
Unnaturally Blonde Chick: "Yeah... (long pause) ...yeah, I know. Can we not get into it right now?"
Huge Orange Purse Chick: "Okay, sorry. Hey, let's check out this store, they sell these cute little wife beaters with rhinestones on them."
This struck me as odd. Essentially they're saying let's not talk about your abusive husband/boyfriend, lets go buy a wife beater instead.
* I am straight, I just like vanilla, okay.
They were once called tank tops or muscle shirts. How very weird that we have quickly taken to calling a certain kind of tank top a "wife beater." Why? Because the guys who used to wear them were the type of guys who got a reputation for beating their wives? Or is it what they decided to slip on when they did beat up their wives?
(Must be tough finding attractive models in Dallas)
I guess balding gay men and fatty-armed female field hockey players with bad dye jobs are what sell. Can you tell I've been reading FUGLY?
It makes no sense. According to that logic we may start calling some provocative female outfit a "gang raper." As in "Oh Tiffany, you would look so cute in that little blue "gang raper" All the boys would line up for a chance with you!" Language, slang and the way it evolves is very strange. A shirt named after a violent action towards women. I understand how sexuality relates to fashion, but violence towards women? I know sex and violence are linked because I grew up listening to plenty of Nine Inch Nails. But isn't this giving props to the "tough guys and "bad boys."
I think it's gone a bit overboard. See.
wife beater (noun) 1. tank-style underwear shirts. Origin: based on the stereotype that physically abusive husbands wear that particular style of undershirt.
Wife Beaters site, I love the music choice. Check out the infamous wife beaters.
They even have a Wife Beater Hall of Fame here on the site:
Oh, they have special discounts for men who can prove they beat their wives.
Please make your check or money order payable to James Doolin.
____ I am a convicted wife beater. Please send me a second beater at half price. *Note: You must enclose proof of conviction, court records, restraining order, probation officer's phone#,... photos are NOT acceptable.
Your name or handle:________________________________________________________Address: ______________________________________ Trailer# or Apt#______________City: __________________________ State: __________________ Zip: _______________Phone # __________________________ E-mail: __________________________________
http://www.usatoday.com/tech/news/2001-04-25-ebrief.htm
So here we are today. Go to the Mall and get a "cute, little, wife-beater."
Let's see how it started.
Does this guy look like a wife beater. He's wearing one and he's drinking...
Poor example. He doesn't have that contained rage look.
Better example: He slips on his camo wife beater and heads down to the bar.
Best example: "Dude, dude, officer. I swear I never touched that fucking bitch. She's a drama queen and a slut. We got into a fight cause I was mad that she keeps getting bruises from falling down the stairs and boning my friends.... Huh, burn? What- Oh, that burn. I guess she just musta walked into my lit cigarette. Seriously, spend five minutes with her, you'll want to smack her, too."
The fashion trend started innocently enough.
She's a good little tank top model.
She's even better.
...BEST!
This is the sweet husband guy and sure he digs Kid Rock and drinks Budweiser, but would probably never lay a hand on his lady. Unless she scratched his Van Halen Box set.
"Please, please... buy this shirt from me on ebay. My husband says he'll hurt me again if it doesn't sell. He doesn't mean to hit me. He just has a short fuse and sometimes I just push his buttons. I bring it on myself. I know it's mostly my fault 'cause he says he loves me. Also he gets mad when I let myself get over 100 pounds. We also have an El Camino we're selling."
Absolutely no idea what's going on here because of the big black dot. But I imagine he's simply gone down to the Barber shop to get himself a little trim.
Okay, maybe it's a crop top, maybe it's a wife beater, but damn if he doesn't pull the look of with a raw, sensuous style. Sorry Halle Berry, but he's the top model.
Don't you just love her adorable "gang-raper" shorts?
http://www.outspokenclothing.com/cgi-bin/cpshop.cgi/beaterbeater
http://www.usatoday.com/tech/news/2001-04-25-ebrief.htm
Huge Orange Purse Chick: "Uch, Trish, forget about him he treated you like shit.
Unnaturally Blonde Chick: "Yeah... (long pause) ...yeah, I know. Can we not get into it right now?"
Huge Orange Purse Chick: "Okay, sorry. Hey, let's check out this store, they sell these cute little wife beaters with rhinestones on them."
This struck me as odd. Essentially they're saying let's not talk about your abusive husband/boyfriend, lets go buy a wife beater instead.
* I am straight, I just like vanilla, okay.
They were once called tank tops or muscle shirts. How very weird that we have quickly taken to calling a certain kind of tank top a "wife beater." Why? Because the guys who used to wear them were the type of guys who got a reputation for beating their wives? Or is it what they decided to slip on when they did beat up their wives?
(Must be tough finding attractive models in Dallas)
I guess balding gay men and fatty-armed female field hockey players with bad dye jobs are what sell. Can you tell I've been reading FUGLY?
It makes no sense. According to that logic we may start calling some provocative female outfit a "gang raper." As in "Oh Tiffany, you would look so cute in that little blue "gang raper" All the boys would line up for a chance with you!" Language, slang and the way it evolves is very strange. A shirt named after a violent action towards women. I understand how sexuality relates to fashion, but violence towards women? I know sex and violence are linked because I grew up listening to plenty of Nine Inch Nails. But isn't this giving props to the "tough guys and "bad boys."
I think it's gone a bit overboard. See.
wife beater (noun) 1. tank-style underwear shirts. Origin: based on the stereotype that physically abusive husbands wear that particular style of undershirt.
Wife Beaters site, I love the music choice. Check out the infamous wife beaters.
They even have a Wife Beater Hall of Fame here on the site:
Oh, they have special discounts for men who can prove they beat their wives.
Please make your check or money order payable to James Doolin.
____ I am a convicted wife beater. Please send me a second beater at half price. *Note: You must enclose proof of conviction, court records, restraining order, probation officer's phone#,... photos are NOT acceptable.
Your name or handle:________________________________________________________Address: ______________________________________ Trailer# or Apt#______________City: __________________________ State: __________________ Zip: _______________Phone # __________________________ E-mail: __________________________________
http://www.usatoday.com/tech/news/2001-04-25-ebrief.htm
So here we are today. Go to the Mall and get a "cute, little, wife-beater."
Let's see how it started.
Does this guy look like a wife beater. He's wearing one and he's drinking...
Poor example. He doesn't have that contained rage look.
Better example: He slips on his camo wife beater and heads down to the bar.
Best example: "Dude, dude, officer. I swear I never touched that fucking bitch. She's a drama queen and a slut. We got into a fight cause I was mad that she keeps getting bruises from falling down the stairs and boning my friends.... Huh, burn? What- Oh, that burn. I guess she just musta walked into my lit cigarette. Seriously, spend five minutes with her, you'll want to smack her, too."
The fashion trend started innocently enough.
She's a good little tank top model.
She's even better.
...BEST!
This is the sweet husband guy and sure he digs Kid Rock and drinks Budweiser, but would probably never lay a hand on his lady. Unless she scratched his Van Halen Box set.
"Please, please... buy this shirt from me on ebay. My husband says he'll hurt me again if it doesn't sell. He doesn't mean to hit me. He just has a short fuse and sometimes I just push his buttons. I bring it on myself. I know it's mostly my fault 'cause he says he loves me. Also he gets mad when I let myself get over 100 pounds. We also have an El Camino we're selling."
Absolutely no idea what's going on here because of the big black dot. But I imagine he's simply gone down to the Barber shop to get himself a little trim.
Okay, maybe it's a crop top, maybe it's a wife beater, but damn if he doesn't pull the look of with a raw, sensuous style. Sorry Halle Berry, but he's the top model.
Don't you just love her adorable "gang-raper" shorts?
http://www.outspokenclothing.com/cgi-bin/cpshop.cgi/beaterbeater
http://www.usatoday.com/tech/news/2001-04-25-ebrief.htm
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
If I Had an Island...
Once again, I am truly sorry that I did not win my own private island. I feel like I've let so many of you wayward nouveau-hippies down. I hope you'll forgive me for not being able to create a Utopian society based on the tenents of bliss, harmony, bigamy, boogie and tranquility. Kranki-Island seemed like the perfect opportunity to escape from Bushville USA. You would have all been welcome and invited to move there or visit. There would be no organized religion and I would have ruled like the land like the beloved, benevolent and just a teeny bit eccentric leader I am. How would I do things differently with my own sovereign land? I'm so glad you asked.
Check out just some of the ideas I was tossing around.
Special dress code for hot window washers. Hourly washing of windows would be the law.
Happy Nature! Cute baby animals would be an everyday sight.
This would be our Mascot so if "the Aliens" ever come to take over the planet they'd like us and leave us alone.
This would not be permitted.
Seriously, every day you'd look out your window and say "Awwwww, look at the wittle foxy woxies."
Comfort would be king! Pajamas* would be the preferred formal wear. Skirts and sarongs for men.
*Wear whatever you want. I'd have a bathrobe that was soft enough to be worthy of a dictator.
If we did have money, I wouldn't be an egotistical dick and put my my own image on it.
It would be all about the music. Dig those massive tunes!
Not permitted.
Lots of these, free of charge.
Our National Flower. Relaxing coi ponds would be all over the place.
Zen my friends, Zen.
The Island's public transportation system.
You all have one of these to compliment your phat Ewok-style treehouse.
I'll be here in my office if you need to reach me. You can't call because there will be no phones on the island. They make noise.
If you ever had any concerns or suggestions that seemed like they might bore me I would direct you to this gal. Our Vice President. Not only the first female Vice Prez, but also the first crustacean.
I'd appoint the Secretary of Chilling Out in the Sun.
Also:
The only hangovers would be of the Sweet Love variety and there would be a strictly enforced 16 hour maximum work week.
Should I grow a mustache? All the famous dictators have had them.
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