Crispy Creme is false. If you follow it you will die.

Anne Coulter and I have made an incredible discovery.

We have discovered a cure for the pandemic bird plague which has been happening in Asia and on CNN.

What we did was realized that pi * cr^2 was something and then that anything to the 0 power was another rule and we took those rules and defined an academic truth upon which we built a serum that would fight tooth decay and solve bird flu.

Bad news, though.

You have to take the serum in an aborted fetus or it won't work.

Something about science needing to destroy morality or something.  Anne was going on about it but I wasn't really listning.

I was frying fetuses.

Anne likes hers with mango salsa.

I like mine raw.  Like a little oyster.

NBA fun fiction

They got Basedow, thought Larry Bird to himself as he lay hunkered down in a foxhole.  The god damned krauts got John Basedow.

Not even my patented sky-hook grenade lob could save him.

The pencil necks back at the lab will be able to clone him, sure, that's not the point.  You're never the same after your first clone.  It's like there's always something missing, you're never quite the same.  Thinner, less real.  But it's important we stay in the game.

Going back into time to kill Hitler seemed like a good idea at the time.  LOL.  At the time.  All this time phase shifting is getting me buggy.  As much as I'm from Indiana and Indiana doesn't like Jews, I have to say we hate to see them suffer.  Even if they did kill Christ.

And Basedow was good.  Damn good.

Not technically an athlete but those abs of his.  Those, flat, beautiful abs... They really impressed the brass.  If he just would have listened to orders and not gone running off to save that village he'd still be alive!

Always the hero, that one.

Now I'm down to one ration kit and 100 miles behind lines.  Gotta get some dna back to the lab so we can get John put back together.

I hope my NBA training will get me through the next 48 hours.  

Michael Jordan better not give me any lip when I get back or we may just come to blows.

I sure do miss Kevin Mchale.

The last straw don't taste so good as the first one. But both taste kinda strawey.

I've been working on an equation, maybe you can help me.

It's more of a theorum, frankly.  But you knew that.

The more I drink, the more odious I find work.  The more I work, the more I enjoy drinking.  These things lead me to an unknown result.

Dear Florida, Catherine Harris and I think that God is Judging you for your big population of Jews and is sending a hurricaine.  I'm told if you smear lamb's blood on your doorway you'll be saved as the grim reaper passes by.

Finally, I've created a new genre that I like to call NFL Fan Fiction.

John Elway knew immediately that something was amis when he walked into his study.  He took two large strides then did a flury of spin kicks and caught the hulking figure behind him in the solar plexus, just as he planned.  As the giant lurched forward, John Elway felled him with a crushing elbow smash on the back of the neck stunning his attacker.

The figure on the ground coughed and mumbled something as he tried to get to his feet.  John Elway took 3 strides backward and held his tiger claw stance ready for anything.

"John, it's me, Dan Dierdorf," said Dan Dierdorf.

"I told you I'd kill you the next time I saw you," said John Elway.

"That was in another time and another world," said Dan Dierdorf.

"And that's how I want it to stay.  My past is behind me and I don't need you interfering with it," said John Elway.

"I'm puting the team back together.  You, me, Zonka and Michael Irving."

"No thanks," said John Elway.

"John, you owe your country."

"I paid my dues," shouted John Elway, spraying small flicks of furious spittle.

"John, we need you.  We're going into Iraq and we need your arm and your wits."

"Dan Dierdorf, you know I'm in no shape for it.  My best days are behind me.  I'm a shadow of what I once was."

"John Elway, you were the best I ever seen and still are a hell of a man.  Please, John Elway, we need that arm.  Say you'll suit up one more time."

They call me Captain Obvious

Wonderful news, I was stung by a wasp and I didn't even cry. 

Then I found an earwig in my stools.  There he was, just kind of floating there amidst the poops and papers.

Crazy earwig, wrong hole!

I bet he was sooo confused by the lack of tympanic membranes.  I bet as he crawled along that long, virgin road and it got darker and smellier he was all...wtf?

Plus maybe it was a girl and she wanted to lay her eggs all up in there.

I'll keep you posted if baby ear wigs come out of there.  I'll save them and raise them, of course.  Then I'll scan their bodies for the net.

Remember when I took your toys...how you cried? And then I gave them back broken? I'm sorry for this.

Last night I astral projected to your house and tried on all your underwear.  Even the ones in the dirty hamper and strewn about the laundry baskets.

Good news, they were a perfect fit.  We may now share underwear to economize our situations.

One interesting thing I've been keeping to myself instead of telling everyone is that the vagina is a self-inflicted wound.

I have been studying the evidence and it starts out in the utero.  All have penises but the scratching at the perineum causes a fissure and then the digging to get to the ovaries causes enlargement of the fissure.

I have told the sex ed department about this and it will go into the curriculum any day now.

The ovaries are just magical it seems and they can cause you to dig with the nails to get to them.

It need not be said that the reason periods happen is from the opening of old tears in the scarred walls.

But I said it anyway because it's an image that I have to say or it won't leave.

I had a good one in mind, but I gave you this instead

I sometimes wonder what would happen if I chewed my own foot off.

Would the people sew it right back on and then send me right back in or would the people praise me for showing a natural representation of what a wolf would do if he had to work every day at being the finest programmer alive.

Plus no more toenails to clip.  That's a pretty good bonus.  Plus bionics.  Like that kid who 6 million trained who put his foot through the floor of the car when hitting the brakes.  I wouldn't go insane, though.

Guess where this came from. yep. gmail.

I am very sorry about the tirade I put on yesterday and am therefore going to award you 25 innernet points to make up for the shameful display of name calling and chicanery.

Albert Einstein made me say those terrible things.  He poked me with his old, ugly scab-fingers and grunted in German until I finally wrote them down.  He'll be mad for revealing that fact but I think I'll have Steven Hawking to defend me by then.

I think you're very pretty.  Albert Einstein went back to Jew heaven (hell), this morning, and now I'm more free to say all the nice things.

I had more to say but it's late in the day and I have spells to cast to make it rain so I don't have to mow the lawn, tonight.

Everyone from Los Angeles should send me a dollar

Albert Einstein and I think that you're getting fat.

He worries that the pressure per square centimeter
continues to tax your circulation system from the
extra force required to pump blood to the farthest
range of your swelling body.

Albert is totally into metrics. He's always talking
about square meters and such. It really makes no
sense to me but when I complain he asks, "Who's the
genius, you or me?"

I worry that you'll get ugly.

We both have valid points but mine makes more sense in
the broader context of society.

But enough about you.

As for me I have a summer cold that the doctors are
calling, "The aids-cold of the century."

I hope I don't die from it.

I wonder what happens if you drink diet coke and then
eat mentos. Do you explode like those birds what eat
the alka seltzers?

You should try it and let me know.

:end

__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
http://mail.yahoo.com

this is from email

I think if I were a 2 liter bottle of diet coke and I
wanted to kill myself I would grab a handful of Mentos
and just pop 2 or 3 of them.

I'd have to pop the sour death drops quickly though
because the rush of my brown guts oozing outside of my
cylinder shell would come quickly and soon all that
was left of me would be just so much brown foam and
sticky flotsam covering the green summer grass.

In a thousand years I'll be thiiiiiiis many

You'll recognize this as Jesus (my constant companion).

You'll be seeing him soon.

If you're not a Christian this will be very bad news for you because Jesus carries a gun under his robes and will pop caps in your sorry Hindo ass.

He lives in my scanner and helps process the colors in the correct RGB format (he uses his own blood for Red) because it's very complex.

I'm not supposed to tell you this, but he said crucifixion wasn't so bad. He laughs and says that the days in the desert without food and water and the company of Satan was a lot worse and that St. Matthew blew it out of proportion but he didn't want to say anything on account of how humble he is.

He's a Capricorn but wishes he could be a Taurus cause he likes bulls so much but he doesn't control that aspect of the universe. That's an aspect of one of the seven remaining mysteries that not even Science can crack.

He has hands. Just can't see em. He's jealous about showing his hands to many people.

We are praying for you, him and me. Especially him.

He's gay! It's wonderful! Yay, Lance Bass!

Dave Navarro gets all the stanky poon. I hear tell he and Jenna J are set to be wed. I hope it's an April wedding, they're always so pretty.

Guard your precious flower, Kid Rock. When the Navaro is in town none of us (who have skank wives) are safe. Guard her well, Kid.

Secondarily, this is what they send to me. They want me to buy but I won't because they want me to so bad. If they'd be a little coy about it I might.



Secondarily^n this is my semen. I extracted it last night. The black spots are sea monkeys. My UI track fosters many forms of life.

Great news, everyone!! Lance Bass is gay! LOL! Finally he's gay! Isn't that wonderful! LOL!!!!!!

8/9/06 to do's:

Take clothes to dry-cleaner (remember starch the shirts)

Stop eating every god damned thing you see. Jesus.

Rewrite bible.

Get rid of most of Jew part.

Leave in line condemning the gays and the ones about no bacon for the Jews (more for Ho).

Add references to SARS, AIDS and the bird flu. Blame it on someone. (Jews or Gays or some other fringe group. Spin bottle as is customary.)

Rename Cain to David and Abel to Abdullah.

Give Jesus super powers--good ones like flight and iron hands and feet. Have Him save Cain.

Rewrite flood myth, substitute the one from Gilgamesh.

Give Moses a hook hand and string desert with iron cables. Make him swing around from place to place like they do in scout camp.

Edit the first three of NT so that it's one damn story instead of three of the same.

Shower.

Remeber that I ate beats last night and the pee's gonna look redder than normal.

Pray, pray, pray.

Check to see if enzite is working.

Pray one more time. Hard.

Remember when we were all worried that I had SARS?

Dear England,

Thank me later.

I have the best idea.

Next time you have to move the Jews somewhere, put them in Ireland! That whole Northern Ireland project of yours has turned out pretty well, after all. But where to put them in Ireland, you ask?

Southern Ireland, that spot seems pretty clear and green and would make a welcome break from the desert for the dusty Jews.

Love, Ho.

I have very important conference calls all day long

This is how dislexic people smile ): and you can see how sneaky and ugly it is but they're born with that retardation and all we can do is teach them that the correct way is as such :)

Thank God that Jesus designed LOL to be a palindrome. Good job, Jesus, that was a real good idea.

Dear Ass-Hair Fairy,

I'm pretty sure I told you this once, but cease and desist.

When I get those long ones down there it's distracting. I know you mean well and I don't mean nothing personal but it really fucks up the wiping routine. Plus the tears when they're deep planted like the rare weed in the vast desert wood and then the pulling and then the tears.

Udder Chaos

While I was away, I spent time in the park taking in the flowers and just really digging nature as all modern, sensitive men will do.

While I was there I saw these two kids teetering on a teeter totter.

One was a Muslim and I'll be damned if one was a Jew. There they were, just tottering and I said to myself, I, as a representative of the United States of America (may these colors never bleed nor run nor fade) should go over to these two young lads and commend them.

It's really a demonstration of how foolish all this Jew war is in the middle east betwixt the arabs and jews.

So I get over there and just as I'm about to launch into my well done speech I kick the Arab kid off the teeter totter right when he's about to kick his way up. Obviously, the Jew kid falls and starts to cry, not so much from the pain but from the shock of the fall.

I immediately called out, "Did you see what this Muslim done to the Jew boy? Made him fall off the teets and made him cry."

Then I kicked the little Arab boy a little.

His parents were upset but we sent them to Guantanamo bay to think about things for a bit. A cooling down time as I like to think of it.

So anyway, I think we all learned a little from me going to the park.

I love you thiiiis long

This is where I was last night.

You were there.

You looked so pretty until you started vomiting.

This title took a year from your life and gave it to me. A good year, too. Not those shitty last ones.

Let's pretend you have one of those tennis ball shooters and that the balls are made out of the literary style of The Celestine Prophecy and the perplexing popularity of The Davinci Code. Maybe you throw in a couple of good ideas to go along with the goo balls that you fire but mostly you have rhetoric and non-stop Tony Little scale hyperbole.

Now let's say that you have a racket which is made soley out of a desire to finish a book. It's generally a strong racket and no matter how many times you slam it down it never breaks. Not even when it should break. It just won't break.

Then let's say I been reading The Earth is Flat and that though the racket is cracked in several places I somehow got through that book which is a field of isn't this outsorcing a wonderful thing and then off to look at how bad our education system is. I should get some kind of award or semi-precious medal for finishing this miasma of tired opinion.

Let us just say that The Earth is Flat should have been edited to an eighteen paragraph op-ed piece and run in some Denver paper on some slow Sunday.

Secondarily, the other book which broke the racket was, The Last Temptation (A Dr. Tony Hill & Carol Jordan Mystery).

I tried to finish it, God knows I tried--ask Him--but the absurd meter and the predictable meter being so high made me stop about 66.6% through.

I even got a library fine from this terrible book. I'm going to dip the pennies in urine before I pay that one. Bloody urine. My urine.