The Event You've All Been Waiting For!

It's finally here. The event that the world has been yearning for is coming soon. Forget your fear of right wing political forces, the madness of the war in Iraq, the nuclear threat of Iran and North Korea. Gen-o-cide in the Sudan will be replaced with Fun-o-rama. Your Tsunami cares will be gently washed away. Rejoice, my friends for Miss Congeniality 2 will soon be coming to a theatre near you. Oh, and it's the Academy Awards today too.

I'll give you a moment to mark your calendars, call all your friends and buy your advance tickets. Yes, you see what our planet needs isn't sane leadership, a respect for the balance of man and mother nature. Diplomacy and empathy and understanding. Fuck that, let's suicide bomb those ideas.

Yes, we've desperately needed to put our woes behind us is another delightfully "charming" Sandra Bullock movie. This is a force bigger than any country or war or natural disaster or problem. This is a lame Sandra Bullock sequel. Now the entire human race can come together as one, hold hands and sway as the almost comedy covers us like a thick spurt of sickly sweet syrup.

Miss Congeniality 2 Armed and Fabulous: Don't judge an Agent by her cover.

And friends I have gotten my hands on a copy of the script and it is nothing less than thick, pure, unrefined sewage.

It doesn't matter how much whip cream and sprinkles you pour on top of this baby. It may look like a delightful treat but get a little nibble of this tired fagtastic follow-up feature and you'll realize you've got a mouthful of dog shit sundae. Raw sewage - light entertainment?

Now she's a showgirl in Vegas and she gets caught up in the glamour and... well, I don't want to spoil it for you. I would rather clean the bus station road with my tongue than be forced to view this film. I'm not sure how many stars that earns. Warner Brothers knows how to craft only the finest movies.

So take a deep breath, a warm bath or go get a massage because now we have Miss Congeniality 2 to gather around like a safe warm fire on a dark chilly night. Yes friends... we can all relax content in the knowledge that world peace for the entire human race can't be far behind.

Erik Blevins: Deadly Blood-Kick to Oblivion

This is truly special. I actually have goosebumps forming on my arms as I type this post. I hope you enjoy it. This has brightened up my otherwise lousy week.
As you may know, in LA it seems as if everybody is a screenwriter or working on something. They all desperately want you to read their work. Waiters, valet parkers and gas stations attendants have all handed scripts to writers I know.


Meet Erik Belvins. Erik is a budding young screenwriter.


Erik is a REAL person. He works at the Office Depot near my apartment. I was in Office Depot to get some folders and Erik began talking to me. The instant he found out that I had worked as a writer he immediately dashed off. Whatever, I thought. Weird guy. It does not end there. He comes rushing back with a binder containing the treatments for his screenplay ideas and his "head shot." He wants my professional feedback. I have yet to return to that Office Depot store.

But I am very proud to present...

Slade Ripfire: Deadly Blood-Kick to Oblivion


"Karate Crimes?" Do I even need to comment on this?





Wait, how many chinese guys are there?
And how many goldfish?





"SWEET!" indeed. I think Sam Raimi will be eager to direct this script.

I'm sorry did that say the killer's name was "Cho-Cho Washington"?




Words fail me.

Erik Blevins: The Next Screenwriting Superstar?





YES. There are a few more treatments that I will share with you. But like a fine wine they must be sipped and savored.

I'll post another one next week.

Congratulations, You're Pre-Fired

"Regarding your dead husband, I assure you, Mrs. Buttle, the Ministry is very scrupulous about following up and eradicating any error. If you have any complaints which you'd like to make, I'd be more than happy to send you the appropriate forms."

Today I felt like I was in a very boring version of the Terry Gilliam film BRAZIL.

Today, I had a moment of understanding. I finally experienced a taste of the feeling that people who get fired from their jobs experience. I understood what a satisfying release it would be to take a high gauge shotgun and empty it into one's former supervisors and co-workers who cowardly huddle at the feet of the big boss man who tosses them money and such. I don't think that I can say that I was actually fired because I hadn't actually started the job. Nor was I fired by the people who hired me. I was Pre-fired.

Brief backstory. I hustled my ass, a very good friend went out of her way to help me get a chance to show off my teaching style. It went swimmingly. The school wanted me and I was embraced and given the job at a great school with the age group of kids that I wanted in the location that I wanted. So then it's just a matter of getting registered at (spooky raspy voice) The District Office. If they had a motto it should be "Where beaucracy and evil meet to crush your hope.*"

But back to the brief backstory. I'll do it in Tarzan style so I won't ramble on. Here goes. ME DO DEMO LESSON. ME GET GOOD JOB. SCHOOL NICE. HAVE WORK 2 MONTHS AT NICE SCHOOL. NORMAL TEACHER IS AWAY MAKING A BABY. ME TEACHER FRIEND WORK NEXT DOOR. SCHOOL GOOD. DISTRICT ADMINISTRATION BAD.

Okay so I've earned this job and done a full hands on lesson with the group of students and It went great. So they school handpicked me to fill in for a few months. There are not many good schools in LA and this is one of them. Just need to turn in my paperwork so I can get processed. There was more paperwork than NASA would require from an astronaut. I won't bore you with the details. But I was running all over to get all these things. Did I mention that they already gave me the job. Yeah, so after bringing everything but the kitchen fucking sink, they tell me "Oh, we need this other form." I have to come back again. I went back today. I have brought the kitchen sink and every piece of paper in my file cabinet and had a complete physical, blood work and a T.B. test done again... so it can be on their paperwork.

I hope this isn't boring. I'll get really angry and rant at the end, I promise. You can skip to that if you like. So after all this I am back the second day with letters of recommendation, medical evaluations, student teaching evaluation forms note from my mommy etc... I've got to get re-re-finger printed (for the third time) so it can be on their forms. All this shit at my personal expense. The person who heads up this District Office tells me that she's sorry but they shouldn't have processed me because I don't have my credential yet. My masters degree and credential will be mine in two weeks. She approved it and is now simply changing her mind. So yank the rug out from under me-- I don't have a job. I jumped through flaming hoops of shit for days getting this stuff together, canceling tutoring to do so and now she says I don't have a job. Resisting the urge to take the emergency fire axe and paint the office halls a nice shade of crimson, I express my frustration verbally.

Well, sorry, kranki. We can offer you a job as a secondary substitute at some random school we pull out of our ass that nobody in their right fucking mind wants to teach at. How does that sound." Junior High Hormones or High School Guns. Hmmm... did I just spend 30 thousand dollars to get a Masters Degree in Elementary Education? I think so. Yes, yes, I did. So she's going to "see what she can do." I stood there stunned by the incompetence that I had been pre-warned about, but was still not prepared for the idea that after a year of school and student (free) teaching with 3.96 GPA you excrement humpers. (not you, them) What you do with your mother is entirely your business.

Well, she says, (probably just so I didn't kill her on the spot) "Call me tomorrow morning and "no promises" but "I'll see if there is anything I can do."

On a totally unrelated topic I am now looking to get hold of a large amount of C4 Plastic Explosive and a few dozen detonators capable of taking out say... a nineteen story modern office building that houses minions of evil. Sure some innocents will perish in the massive ball of flames, but I spent enough time there to say conclusively that they're really quite a boring bunch of people and don't contribute anything to the greater good or culture of our planet. Especially the random guy who walked up to me while I was talking to Satan's henchbitch and gave me a few very hearty pats on the back. WhatTheFuck? And WhoTheFuck? I think that guy will get his very own personal explosive fixed securely to his head with his cheap, ugly neck tie. Or perhaps he'll be one of the lucky few who has their skull shattered and brain juice spattered by the claw hammer I'm bringing with me. In fact I'll be doing the Bush Administration by creating thousands of jobs. And they'll have to rebuild it so that will be thousands more jobs. I have no hope that this woman is going to do anything but try and stick me in a High School in Compton.


Int. Crenshaw High School - day

SFX: Bell Rings

Mr. Krankiboy: Okey dokey, folks. Please settle down ladies and gents. I'm your substitute teacher Mr. White-boy Honkey Cracker who will soon get jumped, carjacked, beaten with a tire iron and left for dead in the parking lot when all I wanted to do was be a really creative and inspiring fourth grade teacher." Who wants to learn about Ancient Rome?


*I'm still thinking of an appropriate logo for the District Office. Perhaps the image of Office Zombies eating the hearts of eager and aspiring young teachers. Or a maybe a sharpened pencil being forcefully jabbed into somebody's bloody rectum.

http://www.trond.com/brazil/sound/assure.wav

Gonzo the Great is Gone

It has been raining like something from out of the bible for the last four days. The sky opens up and dumps like I've never seen before. It comes down in these fat heavy sheets. It does not help my mood. Nor did the fact that: I discovered http://www.savetoby.com/ today. Much like some of Ms. Fits' posts I wish I'd stayed ignorant of this special information. Sure, I'm late to discover this twisted plot. But it filled me with such a mix of emotions. I can't even tell you which emotions they were. That's how mixed up they are. So Hunter S. Thompson killed himself the other day. That goes right into the "Bound to happen sooner or later file" never do I recall being less surprised to hear that somebody had killed themselves. It somehow perhaps because of who he was and how he lived his life just can't be looked at as tragic. I must clarify that I don't mean to be callous, I loved the brilliant insanity of the man. I just can't think of a more appropriate way for him to go out of this mortal world. It's a wonder he made it to 67. You can't love drugs and guns as much as that man did and hope to pass blissfully away in your sleep. Nor would he have even wanted to. I assume Hunter just got curious about what death was like. Maybe it gets you really high. It's certainly the ultimate in alternate reality. So Hunter is now trippin' on death and I hope it's making him as happy as his tales of purposeful chaos have made me whenever I read them. His was not a life to envy, but was certainly one to awe at. I wonder if it makes people jealous who choose to or are required to spend most of their time in this reality, while Hunter's days consisted of getting fucked up on a vast combination of drugs, writing and getting paid and encouraged to do both. The man unlike anybody I have ever heard of became legendary for his ability to blend altered states and reality into some hybrid of non-fiction and fiction. What a life. I want to look through the key hole and just get a peek. Nobody was ever on his case like they are on Robert Downey Jr's case for all the drug taking he does. And Downey Jr. Doesn't run around with guns that I'm aware of. Thompson is one of the rare people who is beloved for being a crazy, out of control, dangerous lunatic. How is that endearing? I don't know, but as cool as his antics were. I don't think there are any parents who'd be psyched to hear their son or daughter announce "Mom, Dad, I'm gonna be the next Hunter S. Thompson!" Well, perhaps there are a few. It sure would make for a a hell of a great college major! Hunter wore his unique badge with pride. I just sincerely hope they have some kind of really good drugs for Hunter to enjoy in the afterlife. Otherwise it's gonna be one bummer of a life after death for the great Gonzo Journalist. I have to stop writing as I am about to try and make some roundabout connection between Thompson and Gonzo from The Muppets. Oh, and if I misspelled anything in this post it's because I was paying tribute to Hunter by ingesting three Xstacy pills, two grams of coke, two tabs of blotter acid, three pot brownies a high ball and a large snort of ether.






















He very nearly became sheriff. It's true.

Reader Feedback

Hi Folks, Gus Paldo here.

As I'm sure you know, I head up the Public Relations department here at the Krankiboy Khronicles. As head of the KK's PR I'm the fellow responsible for keeping The Khronicle's readership up and the number of death threats as low as possible. Let's take a look at the latest stats.




Here's a graph of this week's visitors. Hey, look at Monday. We cracked the 100 mark for visitors. Not too shabby.

In fact, I was just about to take a vacation when the late week numbers took a drastic dip bottoming out with a record low of 45 this Saturday. This puts my ass on the chopping block. And I don't want to lose my cushy job and spacious corner office. After my wife left me to marry my brother, getting fired is precisely the kind of development could push me over the edge.




Anyhow, I understand that unlike me, you might have a life or a girlfriend or hobbies that include more than just obsessing over blogs. Now while I pity and despise your desire for recreation, fresh air and a social life on your day off, I also want to say that I truly and deeply care about you. That's why I have just one question for you, the reader.

What can the Krankiboy Khronicles do to keep you happy?

Well?



"I'd like to see more gorgeous women floating seductively in a pools of orange and purple flowers."






"More hard hitting articles about vegetables and cruchy fruit."







"I'd like it if I wasn't constantly treated as a sex object. It seems that every time I come here I get doused with water and forced to strike a provocative pose. I'm more than some chick in a wet shirt and tiny denim shorts. I went to Junior college for nearly two years."





"I'd like to see more of an effort to create global harmony. There's already enough negativity in the world."






"Enough with the peace symbols and cute animal pictures. I wanna see more drunk girls making out with each other and finger banging!"




"Personally I love the Krankiboy Khronicles just the way it is."



"Is that true Debbie? Because I think you're a narcissistic whore who is only capable of loving yourself."



"Anything that has to do with the beach or the ocean will grab my attention."





More contests where we can win with homemade lingerie giveaways.



"I'd like the blog to focus less on hedonistic pleasures and concentrate on unique and insightful political commentary. Oh, god, I'm so wasted, pound me Vinny, pound me!"







"Hi, Starchy Pete here. I think that a vast majority of the photos are often silly and pointless."






"Bukkake. Also girls who eat the excrement. "



"Howz 'bout y'all including dating tips n' proper courtship etiquette for those of us who ain't been burying they bone deep inside some motherfuckin' horny bitch's boo-tay?"





"I agree with Snoop. That would be the schizznit. Personally I would crawl across broken glass just to suck the dick that fucked the ass of some hot, skanky Unicorn snatch."


Well, thanks, Coloring Book Horse!

What would the rest of you readers like to see?

Regards,

Gus Paldo

A Blog Fish in a Blog Pond

I was watching some TV news clip and it mentioned that there are now over 6.5 million bloggers, by morning there will could be 6.6 million. That makes me a little bit sad. I was already overwhelmed being a small fish in a large pond and now the pond is filling up fast with more and more bloggers and the pond is becoming an ocean. It's also great that there is a brand new media and I'm a small part of something much bigger. Call me a dreamer but if the blogisphere were a person, I'd like to think that this blog would be a crusty little piece of snot in the left nostril. But there are some who still manage to stand out and find a following? How do they do it? I marvel at blogs that get tens of thousands of hits each day. Why do we have this need to reach so many? Does it validate us as lazy (me), self absorbed (me again) writers to have more hits, more comments, to be the biggest swinging block dick in cyber space? Sure some sell out bloggers put adds all over their blog to squeeze a bit of juice out of the fruits of their labors. But others, like myself prefer to keep it minimal and just use way too many analogies, smilies and metaphors. It's not unlike the little kid who stuffs his hand into the jar of cookies only to discover that their greedy little hand is stuck inside. Do they drop the cookies? Maybe, but they always go back for a few more. Is blogging addictive? I ask at 2:26 in the AM when I have to be up at 7:30 the next morning.

It's hard work building up a blog readership and even harder to walk away from the spotlight. I think it was very brave of Greg the Boyfriend to bow out. Few great athletes and performers have been able to walk away from the adulation of the crowd and the thrill of showcasing their talents. Michael Jordan couldn't do it. Greg didn't seem to like the quasi-celebrity status that his blog bestowed on him and I respect that. Greg went out at the top of his game. For that he has my admiration and my respect. Few in their field have been able to walk away from the game while still in their prime. He will always be a legend to me. He's the blog that drew me back to blogging. So let's have just a moment of silence, with no clicking of keys for ten minutes in recognition of Greg the Boyfriend and his contribution to American Culture, Technology, Sociology, Tips on how to self-sabotage any relationship and of course, Literature. Ten minutes of quiet reflection with no keyboard clicking, please...

I only lasted for 2 minutes and 10 seconds, I'm sorry people. But Greg the b/f is a rare case indeed. According to polls and surveys, that you might find on another blog that perhaps cared about accuracy sighting correct stats and crap, there are thousands of bloggers joining the blogging world every hour. The pond that was already too big for this Attention Whore Fish.* So what's my point? Well that's what's so great about the blog. You simply don't need one.

Kindly take a minute to drop me a snarky comment and then go visit Ring Ring and try not to wet your pants or the pants of anybody sitting near you.


*Not an actual species of fish

Please take a moment to marvel at our sponsor.

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Yes, it's VIBRA-FINGER. For massage in those hard to reach yet needy areas.

My Little Porno Pony

So I didn't score all that well on this little challenge. It's either because I'not been watching enough porn and paying close attention to the cast, or I simply didn't have enough exposure to the Ponies when I was younger. I do remember the little girls combing their manes with shiny brushes. The Ponies that is. Not the porn stars. At the time I also recall knowing that horses had something to do with a penis fixation. Though back then I think I called it a weenie. Fortunately I've grown up and matured since then.

My Score: 4 out of 12 - Just pitiful

Take the quiz and post your results so we can tease you.

My Little Porn or Pony

With thanks to The Brunching Suttle Cocks*


*weenie weenie weenie

Kitten Kaboodle

...Well how am I supposed to feel? I feel really hurt, you know? Rejected.



Listen, Kitten, I'm sorry. What we had was very special. I'm not rejecting you. I'm taking my life in a new spiritual direction. We've grown apart over the last few weeks. I've been in search of enlightenment while you've been putting all your energy towards batting that ball of yarn around. I need more. Somebody who will challenge me as a person.


I just don't understand where this is coming from.



I feel it inside of me I need a change I'm going to Nepal. I'm need to find myself.


What? Nepal!? Great meanwhile I'm stuck here with no girlfriend the day after Valentines Day. Perfect.



Oh, Please. That's such a commercial holiday, anyway. Uch... I still can't believe you gave me pink roses. How fucking tacky is that? You don't even know me. Look I'm hanging up. Have a good life.

*Click*


*ring ring*


*ring ring*




Hello?


Hey Krankster, it's Kitten Doing Push-ups. Can we talk?


Hey, Kitten Doing Push-ups! I was just about to call you.
Dude, Naked Harpie said there's gonna be a rager of a party tonight. You up for it?


Actually, Myra just broke up with me. I don't think a party is quite my speed.


Oh! Dude. Good riddance. Screw that crunchy chick and the hairy pits she rode in on. Seriously, dude, it looked like she had a vagina under each arm. Those mangy fuckers were long enough to braid into dreadlocks. You're too good for her. That acne, her vegan politico bullshit. Plus she didn't even like Da Ali G Show. Hey did you see the one where Borat goes... um... What was I saying? Oh yeah... So just come out and cut loose tonight. You're swingle again.


Yeah, but I'm not feeling like putting myself out there...


You have to dust yourself off and get right back on the horse, dude. It's settled. We're going to the party. I'm picking you up. No excuses. You know what I always say. Nothing cheers up a little pussy like a little pussy.


HA HA! Good one. Maybe, I don't know. I guess you're right. It'll be good just to get out of the house anyway. What time you wanna roll out?


I'll get the scoop and ring you back. Okay, dude?


Okay, I'll I just be hangin' here, man. Later.

*click*





*ring ring*




Hello?


Hey, Harpie, it's Krankiboy. What time does that party start?


Like around 9, but I'm not gonna get there until 11 at the earliest.


Cool, cool. Listen, my buddy Kitten Doing Pushups just broke up with this girl. You know anybody that we could set him up with. He needs some serious cheering up.


Ah sexual healing. Hmmm... he's into girls. Hmmmm... lemme make some calls and see what I can do.


*Click*




Polichicks, keep left it you wanna get laid? Oh hey Harpie.... No we broke up with Owen and Luke it was creepy dating brothers, ya know?... Well the five of us voted and we decided 3 votes to 2 to dump them. Why?.... No WAY! You're kidding?! He's single now?! What about that hippie nerd chick he was.... Really? Oooo... he's cute we just want to pick him up, pass him around and stroke him until he pops! Okay, we'll see you there, then. Bye slut.


*ring ring*





*ring ring*



Hello?


Hey Kittten, it's Elisabeth. I heard you and Miss Hair Pits are splits. Do you love how I just rhymed that? Anyway this is a bit embarrassing but... maybe... would you want to--

"Damn it, Elisabeth! Did you eat my last lean cuisine!"

Kitten, hold on, my camel toe roommate is calling me.

What do you want I'm on the phone?



I asked you if you ate my last fucking lean cuisine meal! I wrote my god damn name on it!!


Uh... Elisabeth you sound busy maybe I could--

*BEEP*

That's my other line. I'll call you back.


*Click*


Hello?.....






Hello?......





Heeyyy, Kitten. It's Jamie your neighbor from upstairs. C-could you come up here cause we-- I mean I... Te he he he. I um... I -- I know you work out and stuff. So I was really kind of wondering and hoping if you could, like, help me, maybe, you know, move my bed around.


Yeah, I guess so. I'm not doing anything else. What are neighbors for, right? *Click*

*Sigh*

Shit. Moving furniture. What a crappy night this is shaping up to be.