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February 28, 2005

I Am "The Worst Human Being To Ever Walk This Earth"!! Yippee!!

That's right friends. Some handsome *DUDE* named Sally, who looks like a cross between a smudge of poop and a fat womans leg (in a sexy kinda way), has decided that I have the **NEW** Worst Site On the Entire Internet.

In case he deletes his wonderful post, here it is right here:
Its amazing that throughout the 10 billion sites on the web, I was able to find the absolute worst one. The site is titled "3 Question Marks." It is run by the worst human being to ever walk this earth.

His motto is "I may not be god, but at least I'm real." He says he's a homosexual many times(and discribes his sexual actions with men), but then mentions that he hates gays and that he would like to shoot them all.. He states that Jesus can kiss his ass over and over again.

You can tell that this guy spent some real money on this site with graphics and programming and its almost impossible to navigate on it. I will never visit this site again.
Since Sally has banned me from making any comments on his awesome site, I'm left to give my acceptance speech from right here in my own homo sex stained bed. (For some reason he thinks I'm gay -- and apparently, he HATES fags. -- good for him.)

Dear Toilet Slug Sally,
Geez, I mean thanks. I don't know what to say other than ---- WOW.

I'd like to thank Satan and Jesus without whose example I would never have found the true joy of incest and full blown homo yahoooootery!! weeeehaw!

I'd also like to give a shout out to all my white genes and beautiful white brothers and sisters who paved the way for me to be truly detestable, faggy, awesome and most importantly, WHITE. (You all know how I respect protocol, I learned from the last four years of Oscar speeches that when accepting an award, one should always mention one's race at some point during one's acceptance speech (hat tip to Halley Barry, Jamie Fox, Denzel Washington etc..) )

Seriously ---- sniff, this means a lot to me, especially coming from a guy named Sally who has delicious looking pointy man boobs and looks like a mushroom.

Now I need to get back to spending all my money on slick graphics so that you can hate me in COLOR!!

your new fave.

You hate me, right now, you really really hate me. -- now, get over here so I can hump you --- Mushroom Poopy.

Blogger Alex Blagg is a gaywad.

the internet is magical, it really is. i think that my website is a success if for no other reason than it brought together merkley??? and this sally dude. magical.


Anonymous butter gun is a gaywad.

I think man boobs are hot, not as hot as the thought of mushroom melt and you bumpin bangers, but still pretty hot.


Blogger funkybiznatch is a gaywad.

i too am touched by your speech. you're sentimental words just reiterate why i love your openly homo yet fag hating ass. man i need to visit mushroom head and see just who he is hater tuesday maybe i will include him in this week's rants of the uncessary and boring.


Blogger funkybiznatch is a gaywad.

i posted a nice long comment in a very toolish dialect that I think mr. mushroom pasallahwahahahahgggaaa will understand and identify with. That is if he doesn't delet my comment as he did this morning. But then again my comment this morning made mention of his man boobs so maybe he didn't like that.
at any rate he can suck an egg. his shit is boring.


Anonymous noneotherthanlori is a gaywad.

Merkley, I haven't read anything that you've written, but you seem depressed.


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February 23, 2005

If I Was A Rain Drop...

If I was a woman's nipple, I would hang out in a pizza shop. When one of the workers mistook me for a weird piece of pepperoni and grabbed me I would giggle and act all cute but then I would sue for sexual harassment. But not before I ate a whole can of black olives.

If I was the Big Dipper, I would wait until a little kid was looking at me though his brand new telescope and then I'd turn over and dump out a giant space turd into his stupid little eye.

If I was a Dorito corn chip I would go deep undercover as a foot, if I ran into a piece of hot popcorn that was also deep undercover I would say: "Isn't that weird that we both smell like feet?" Then I'd fuck the popcorn and we'd lay in bed talking about corn and how lucky we were to be snacks that smell like feet.

If I was Razor Wire, I would hang out in the Slinky section of Toys-R-Us.

If I was Dr. Phil's Bald head I would blink, flash bright green and secrete a poopy smell every time he said something that sounded like it made sense but was actually a load of crap. Soon all eyes would be on me and I'd get my OWN show.

If I was a string on The Edge's guitar I would go out of tune whenever he played "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For". As soon as he stopped to tune me, I'd go right back in tune and he'd get really confused. Then he'd start playing again and I'd go out of tune again. Pretty soon people would think the song was just about The Edge's weird thing with his guitar because he looks like a guy who would hump a guitar. Finally U2 would break up.

If I was Carson Daly's personality, I would move back to the hardware store where at least the other door knobs would laugh at my jokes.

If I was Jay Leno's lips I would write a book describing the exact smell, texture, taste and tightness of every butthole of every guest in his history as host of the Tonight Show.

If I was a cube of ham on a deli tray, I would jump into the bowl of ranch dressing and eat myself.

If I was a rain drop I would aim myself for the top of a hot black car where I would be instantly turned back into steam, on my way floating back up to the sky I would snidely say to the other raindrops: "That place was lame". Then I'd laugh as their excited facial expressions turned into looks of dread.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught patting a fart out of your pants!

Anonymous Mrs Hodges. is a gaywad.

you should come over and play.


Blogger fugusashi is a gaywad.

How did I miss this one?

This is hilarious, but not wrong. Consequently, there goes your theory of the interchangeability of hilarious and wrong.


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February 22, 2005

If I Was Salt...

If I was the face that people make right before vomiting, I would legally change my name to Andy. That way when standing in a crowd anybody could say: "Andy coming through!" and everybody could move out of the way without mentioning vomit.

If I was the face that dogs make when they poop, I would legally change my name to Whoopi Goldberg. At least somebody named Whoopi Goldberg would be funny.

If I was that thing on top of a soda pop can, I'm not so sure I would want people flicking me trying to make me sound like some kind of lame world beat instrument.

If I was Michael Moore's penis I would call 911 and tell them that I fell into a well on a mountain made entirely of ham jelly. Imagine the press when the rescuers pulled me out all cold, blue and dehydrated. They'd wrap me in a space blanket and name me Little Baby Amy and I would be the news of the week.

If I was my own penis I would prank call Janet Reno. Mostly I would talk about what happened in Waco. Not much of a funny prank really, but it's fun to Imagine my penis dialing my cell phone.

If I was Robin Williams' body hair I would lay awake in bed all night staring at the moon wondering if there was a family of chimps somewhere laying awake staring at the very same moon thinking about me.

If I was that thin web-like piece of skin between people's fingers and toes, I would be so afraid of razor blades that I'd probably end up getting married to one just to get in good with them and make it all chill.

If I was the word "PHAT", I would make it so that anytime somebody used me in a sentence I would turn into a maggot and live in their eyeball.

If I was salt, I would be embarrassed that I was the main flavor in sweat, boogers and pee.

That's all for now.
Try not to get caught eating dead skin or fingernails!

Blogger Monkey is a gaywad.

Holy cow I'm glad I found your blog! You write some funny stuff!!!! You're bookmarked!

Nice to meet you and thanks for visiting my blog also!


Anonymous gabrielle sarah is a gaywad.

see, now, this is funny. keep up the funny pictures and captions and metaphors and euphemisms and in no time you'll be a big famous writer boy.


Blogger h. is a gaywad.

...and blood.

don't forget blood.


Blogger deleted is a gaywad.

remarks made outside of a state of grace...soon regreted, quickly deleted. =)


Blogger Deleted is a gaywad.

geez, i'd really like to delete that stupid comment.


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February 20, 2005

An Ostrich, a Chicken and a 3lb. Booger

One summer, 1981 I think, when I was about 14 years old, I ended up hanging out with this funny, Tom Petty lookin, chicken loving, heavy metal, cartoonist dude named Geoff Sutterfield. His dad, Dale Sutterfield, was a 6 foot 4, 130 lb., continually laughing man who was a sure-fire world record contender for having the most humongus adams apple in the longest neck in human history. And holy Jesus, did that thing ever pulsate when he laughed. You could provide electric power to an entire African village if you could harness the pulsing power of that bulging, laughing, bouncing, ball of cartilage in his neck (or whatever the fuck adams apples are made of). Dale Sutterfield, may very well have been the most likable person ever born, except that there is considerable evidence that he was actually an ostrich.

As the saying goes, Like father like son, was never more true than with the Sutterfield's. From the ostrich-like good looks to the infectious penchant for laughter, I never once saw any member of the huge Sutterfield ostrich flock frown or pout or fight or moan about anything. It was nearly cultish -- in a good, poultry kinda way.

In fact, when my gigantic dysfunctional family first began the awful job of landscaping our dirt lot around our new house in their neighborhood, the Sutterfields, who were complete strangers to us then, showed up in work clothes with wheel barrows and shovels in the 95 degree heat to help, literally singing, joking and laughing as they toiled at work banned by most first world prisons as cruel and unusual punishment. They were fucking angels, ostrich angels.

But, even more important than any of THAT, was the fortunate fact that the whole ostrich family were all diabetics.


The Sutterfield family had heaps and stacks of snacks, cookies, candy and junk food of all races, creeds, colors and flavors all within pinkies reach anywhere and everywhere in their whole house --- even in the bathroom. A person (or ostrich) could poop and snack on a giant Tootsie roll simultaneously -- and, get this; in the Sutterfield home, eating this heavenly junk food was REQUIRED. --- Yeah, even Twinkies. In the Nazi health food hell also known as my house, we were summarily beheaded for so much as thinking about a Twinkie, at the Sutterfield's ------ Twinkies ------ were the bread ------- of life. --- Literally. If this wonderful flock of laughing long-necks didn't get their daily dose of Twinkies, they would have seizures and DIE. It was fucking SWEET!!! --- uhhhhmmm, I mean AWESOME!!! sorry about that.

So one evening at a boy scouts meeting, while all the other scouts were playing basketball, Geoff Sutterfield and I became best pals. We invented a little drawing game in which one of us would make a quick scribble on a piece of paper and the other one would turn it into some kind of cartoon character. It's a game I still play with myself and others to this very day. Geoff, having inherited his fathers amazing ability to make me feel like a comedic genius, would always laugh like a dying balloon whenever I completed my task. And I would laugh like a retard when he did his. The other scouts thought we were idiots.

But the best thing about playing this scribble game with Geoff was that, unlike me, he limitied his selection of possibilities to the wonderous world of chickens. He could turn any one of my scribbles into a chicken. He knew every possible angle, curve or possible position of chickens. He loved chickens. He wrote and drew volumes and volumes of his own comics based on the life and times of the asshole chickens he raised in his SUBURBAN back yard.

He used to take his chickens on bike rides, he gave them all names, each one had a back-story, and they all had very specific opinions and attitudes. To hear Geoff talk about his chickens would cause one to compare Colonel Sanders with Adolf Hitler. Not that Geoff was particularly un-Hitler-like himself, I mean, his coop was nothing more than a waiting room for the chopping block either, but Geoff, unlike Hitler, did the right thing and ate everything he killed. Had Hitler done that, what he did might not have been so wrong. Geoff had zero trouble eating his prison camp buddies for dinner. In Geoff's world, Dinner, was what every chicken aspired to be. I think maybe he thought he was joining souls with his chickens as he picked and consumed the meat from their interesting bones (remember, he was a heavy metal dude). Ultimately, he convinced me to start a chicken prison camp in my own back yard. Why the fuck my mother let me I'll never know.

After Geoff and I spent an entire afternoon in my backyard building the most retarded chicken coop of all time, Geoff told me:

"Well Merkley, you gotcherself a pretty funny lookin' chicken coop, now all you need are a couple of funny lookin' chickens, lets ride bikes to my house and I'll let you pick out your favorite rooster and hen."

"Can we get some candy and twinkies too?"

"That reminds me," Geoff muttered, "it's time for my insulin shot -- wanna watch?"


Geoff shot himself full of insulin, tossed back a few m&ms and then we hopped on our bikes. In less than ten minutes were back in Geoff's chicken coop choosing and capturing the unfortunate losers that would be my first, adam and eve, pair of asshole chickens. I picked out a couple of nice red headed morons with cool green feathers on their tails. Geoff showed me an awesome trick where you can take just about anything -- lint, paper, a nail, anything really, and if you jitter it just so, the dumb ass chickens will think it's a bug and eat it. There is very little funnier to a couple of fourteen year olds than watching a stupid creature eating a piece of string. I used to do a similar trick with my dopey younger step brother. Good times.

By the way, To me it is obvious why humans eat chickens. They are assholes. They don't like you unless you're holding a handful of corn and even then they just want to steal it from you and run off like the fucking dickheads they are. Chickens have no manners whatsoever. They are NOT good citizens. They all deserve to die.

Anyway, after tricking the doofus chickens and their stupid stupid pea brains for 10 minutes or so, Geoff taught me the proper way to transport an idiot chicken by bicycle. It's surprisingly easy, you just gotta shove the fuckers up underneath your shirt. As soon as the "lights" go out, they just become completely docile and still -- dumbfucks I tell ya. So we both tucked a chicken into our shirt, crammed our pockets with candy and Twinkies and set off for my house.

If there is one thing I learned quickly about hanging out with shithead chickens with all of their dust and feathers and stupidity floating up your nose, it's that chicken coops can create massive, hard, sharp, painful boogers.

Holy shit did I ever have one that day.

It was one of those boogers who's enormity I could just feel back there filling up my head. The front of this enornous booger was just barely out of reach and just a little too dry for proper sticky type traction needed to easily free it. It was the kind of booger with which I needed to be really really careful, especially because behind that brittle front end was a bubbling load of gooey snot providing the perfect amount of lube action to make it so that just the slight wrong nudge could have pushed that fucking thing back to the farthest reaches of my 14 year old brain.

I never have been the type of guy to publicly blow or pick my nose. Sure, I wiped a few boogers on my siblings every now and then because that's what they get for being a sibling. ("Sibling" being greek/latin for "Booger Depositiory") -- I mean shit, sibling even sounds like a type of mucous. But booger wiping was a strictly family affair. Amongst my friends I was always a humble, discreet and private picker.

But this particular booger on that particular day just had to go --- and it had to go NOW.

So, I sped up to get enough ahead of Geoff so that I could have enough privacy to really get in there and delicately evict this unwanted plug from my nose. It seemed like it would be simple enough -- but remember, I was riding a bike and I had a rooster up my shirt -- this pick was gonna have to happen with no hands on the handlebars.

I carefully began coaxing the hard nugget out but quickly realized that it was going to take a little low pressure blow to get it started. I knew that If I blew too hard I ran the awful risk of having it flop out onto my shirt or land on my bare leg or something. Care was needed and care was given. Like a seasoned professional, I gave it the exact amount of pressure needed to get it within gripping distance ---- two fingers gripping distance even, this was shaping up to be a perfect pick --- but oh my goodness gracious -- that's when I noticed that this marvelous chunk had one of the longest tails of any booger in history. I mean the hard part was MASSIVE but the tail --- oh THE TAIL --- I could feel it dragging out from way in the back of my head --- This was not expected. Now I needed to be really careful, time to slow down and strategize. When you got a tail like this one, you DO NOT want it to break because then you have a snotty mess on your hands -- literally. This tail needed to be eased out ever so so gently so that when it did finally give way to its natural elastic tendency to recoil, the tail part wouldn't just spazz out and snap, possibly attaching itself to my finger or hand. The motion I needed here was a long, slow, easy pull as if it was a piece of fine saltwater taffy, or like reeling in a prize fish or pulling an unwilling earthworm from it's hole. I did not want this one to get away from me -- it was huge and completely in tact. I felt like I needed a big fish net. ---

Slowly --- slowly --- gently ---- easy does it, just let it come out, don't force it, everything is gonna be real nice, just come on out of your cave Mr. Booger, the world awaits your birth, there is nothing to be afraid of -- and sliiiide --- and --- floop, it was out.

I shit you not, from head to tail that fucker was at least four inches, easily the length of my 14 year old hand.

Crap -- I hoped Geoff wasn't watching. I didn't know him like that, we hadn't yet become farting, booger sharing friends. I had to get rid of that thing. Geoff was gaining on me which meant that it couldn't be an obvious flick either. Besides, the common flick wasn't gonna work with this trophy booger anyway. A common flick could have sent that sticky tail in any number of unpredictable and uncontrollable spasms -- it could have landed on my bike or my stupid new chicken. I opted instead for a nice little "newspaper delivery" tossing motion where I felt I could effectively guide the tail behind the head until the precise moment of release. Remember, I had a flawless two finger grip on the dry part of this little tadpole, chicken up my shirt and all. Now my perfect pick was shaping up to be the perfect toss. I might even be able to land it in that tree right there.

OK here we go --- just let the tail relax, do a little gentle swing to get the motion down and then with a beautiful, graceful rotation of my wrist --- it was sent flying like a magnificent green trapeze, or at least that's what I imagined, I didn't actually *see* where it went but I was pretty god damned certain that magnificent booger was swinging from a branch way the fuck high in the sky.

Turns out, the toss happened not a moment too soon, Geoff was catching up. It was time to just act naturally --- what booger? My hand had no trace of booger, the toss was immaculate. I slowed my pace just as Geoff sped up his a little.

"Hey Merkley.."

"Yeah? what's up -- how's your chicken Geoff?"

"It's alright but ---- hey Merkley I was just wondering..."


"Do you want this back?"

Geoff was looking down his face, looking at the collar on his shirt where my marvelous, excellently picked booger had landed perfectly as to allow the hard part to dangle freely over the edge of the collar with the rest glued in an amazing, glistening straight bead ending right at the base of his neck missing his actual bare skin by less than one millionth of one millimeter. By the time it had completed twirling in the air it had stretched out to a good five inches. It was an incredible sight. It's not very often one gets the opportunity to view his very own trophy booger splayed out on another person's shirt collar -- oh and the dangling -- it was simply astounding how perfect the dangling was. If there was a booger flicking olympics, this landing was a solid 10.

"Oohhhhhhh nooooooooo --- crap Geoff --- I am soooooo sorry" I said as I began laughing uncontrollably..

He began laughing too. How could a Sutterfield not laugh? They were trained to laugh at everything. It was the most fantastic, unpredictable but solidly Sutterfieldian reaction one could possibly hope for.

But even more funny was that the more he laughed, the more the raisin-like swinging part of the booger swung and kinda stretched itself giving it more and more length by which to swing and twirl about. Compounding the fits of laughter was the fact that our chickens under our shirts were not in on the joke. They were getting very restless. It's not like we could have just just let them go -- catching chickens in wide open space is basically impossible. Of course this caused both of us to laugh even harder. This cycle was vicious. Fucking vicious I tell you.

Deliriously laughing, we both slowed down our bikes to a stop. I knew I needed to remove it -- he did not deserve this at all especially because I was transporting his gift of free chickens and pockets full of free Twinkies.

Now for the removal. I thought of using a leaf but then it occurred to me that I would have little control and I would probably just smear it. The chunky hard part was still completely grippable. I thought I could use the exact same two finger technique and ease it off of his shirt. It showed little sign of any significant adhesion or absorption into the shirt collar. But god dammit -- we would have to stop laughing --- with every laugh his adams apple would bounce more furiously and that booger would swing more uncontrollably. I've never in my life had such a hard time bringing my laughter under control.

Finally the laughs slowed -- I moved in carefully. Geoff started laughing again causing more booger swinging. Then suddenly Geoff's chicken began squirming and my gut laughing grew more intense. But then, unbelieveably, as if I was Noah or Dr. Doolittle, the fucking god damn genius chicken read my mind and popped it's stupid head out of the top of Geoff's shirt immediately spotting the dangling booger which it instantly gobbled up.

Holy fuck ---- there are only a handful of times in my life where I laughed so hard that it caused me transcendent physical pain and this was one of those times. I laughed so hard --the chicken under my shirt began freaking out and scratching the fuck out of me. It eventually made its way out of the top of my shirt. Due to Geoff's hysterical laughter his booger eating chicken also escaped.

And there we were -- rolling around in the middle of the street in uncontrollable laughter with chickens flapping retardedly right along with us. Ouch --- even typing this story has brought back a slight taste of that same pure soul cleansing laughter. I don't know, maybe you had to be there.

I wonder what ever happened to Geoff Sutterfield. I heard he got mixed up in drugs and gave up his art. I've heard that a lot of diabetics end up on heroin -- it's that relationship they have with the needle I suppose. Fucking god damn shame if you ask me. I only hung out with that guy for half of one summer when I was fourteen, but I think of him and his family every time I find myself in a situation where it would be completely understandable, acceptable and/or reasonable to be angry, upset or accusatory to a friend or stranger who landed a figurative booger on my shirt. It was one of many lessons I learned from the Sutterfield family -- those fucking angel ostriches.

Blogger invincibleoverlord is a gaywad.

This story is why I like you so much, and not in a gay way. Like all geniuses sometimes you can be...difficult... which of course is better than being polite or safe. Every so often you do something killer like this that delivers on the promise of your weirdness. If you wrote a book I would buy it.

Hey though I will help you out in one way. As much as I love the taste of flesh, I wouldn't eat most commercially farmed chickens. They consume way worse than 5 inch long boogers and they're all sick and diseased. Fish you can eat raw and it's tasty. Chicken, if you eat raw you'll shit blood and die.


Blogger Dave is a gaywad.


This story really cheered me up after reading it today.....

I would rate it a 10


Blogger Dun Dun Dun. is a gaywad.

That was awesome.


Blogger funkybiznatch is a gaywad.

i tried again to read it all the way through and i just keep getting distracted. i stand by my original comments that this shit is too damn long.
can i get the condensed version?
p.s. had fun last night...


Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.

Reading, .... details,...... some folks enjoy them. -- I suppose I could have just written:

Friend, Booger, Shirt, Chicken, Gobble.

You're right. That's wAAAAAY funnier.

No, but seriously, you really want condensed? Next time I see you just remind me and I'll wipe a condensed version on your shirt.


Blogger Alex Blagg is a gaywad.

fucking farm animals.


Anonymous Wendy is a gaywad.

I thought I should give you glory for this story. This is THE story that made me a Merkley??? addict. I was laughing so hard at this story that my hubby who was outside watering the lawn ran in to see if I was ok. Anyone who can unabashidly tell a booger story like this has to be a very interesting fellow. Keep em' coming. :)


Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.

Thanks wendy!

I had a fun time remembering it and typing it out. as you can see, not many have the time to savor the fine details of a good booger picking story.

ahh, kids these days, no time for great literature.


Blogger Alicante, Spain is a gaywad.

I found this randomly and laughed so hard my dog gave me an annoyed look and then left the room. Naturally I forwarded it to everyone I know ... all of whom are studying for finals. I think, if nothing else, this will teach them not to take life seriously ... at least they didn't see a chicken eat a booger off their friend. Great post.


Blogger dave is a gaywad.

Shouldn't read shit like that at work while listening to music through headphones. You can't tell how loud you're laughing, but everyone else can and it's hard to explain.


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February 16, 2005

A Dubious Horse Story

Alex over at BlaggBlogg has posted an interesting story about an incident involving violence with a horse during Mardi Gras. Make sure to read the comments to see how I uncovered the real story behind this alleged incident.

My Bullshit detection is running full throttle.

Blogger Alex Blagg is a gaywad.

you think you're some kind of goddamned deep throat, Merkley???

Well, I'll tell you one goddamned thing right now - I don't fucking like horses! I don't like their four legs and I don't like their hooves and I don't like their stinky mane's!!!

What the fuck is a mane? I don't have a main! Do you have a -- oh yeah, I guess you kinda do, but whatever.

HORSES FUCKING SUCK. All you animal-loving pussies can kiss my ass while I skin something with fur.


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February 14, 2005

Homo Weddings: Let's Not Put the ______ Before the ______!

Again, I'm an individualist. I couldn't care less who fiddles with your hoohaa unless you have pictures or an ineresting stain for me to sniff. I also thought it was awesome when San Franciso's plastic haired yuppie mayor Gavin Newsome just went ahead and said --"Fags, marry the fuck out of each other." I voted for Gavin Newsome. I like him, he's a stand up yuppie.

Here's what I think: Homos should have the right to get married the same way they should have the right to commit suicide or stab themselves in the forehead.

Basically, it is retarded that suicide is illegal. It's the dumbest idea of all time. But even more stupid would be creating an application process for *legal* suicide. That seems to be what this issue is all about.

Please, somebody needs to explain to me how ANY marriage, fag or normal, benefits society -- err -- I mean ME. How does YOUR marriage to Sally, Roger, The Dumpling Twins, a block of Styrofoam or your own foot benefit ME? Why should I -- or any other yayhoo member of society sanction it in any way? -- Why do I need to be involved? Or more specifically, why do my tax dollars need to be involved? It seems that the original intention of marriage was to force sad religious families to raise their own fucking kids instead of shifting the burden to everyone else. But casual, pre-marital sex, plastic boobs and drive thru divorce blew the nutts off of that concept a long long motherfucking long ass time ago. Sweet.

Let's not get off on a tangent here. I know that many of the issues are about healthcare, hospital visits, next of kin issues etc... But I believe any human being should be able to determine whoever the fuck they want to be the beneficiary or administrator any of those things. That is a completely different issue and it's the one that we should be talking about. When your boobs or nutts fall off, or you get a gerbil stuck way way way up your butt and you kick the bucket, anyone whom you care to designate should be able to choose your casket, spread your gay ashes, cash in the policy and be done with your dead gay ass. Marriage should not be required for any of that. I should be able to appoint my dog or fucking Carrot Top as my designated unplugger of life support if I want. THIS IS THE ISSUE TO ADDRESS!! Not your fantasy of a fucking backyard homofest marriage. "Oh my gawd -- a champagne fountain!!"

I know you queens have just been DYING to put on that frilly white gown -- so DO IT! Run down the street in a rainstorm and pretend you're Gwen Stefani --- I don't give a fuck. And hey dykes, --- I know it's not just a cumber bun, It's fucking cumber FUN! Weeeeeeeeeeeeee -- it's fun to play dress up!!

Let's not involve the government with our parties --- pleeeeeaaaaase?

Without divorce being illegal, marriage serves absolutely NO purpose. Everybody already has the right to decorate the backyard, dress up and have a nice little party proclaiming your love for whomever you choose. WHY the fuck does the government need to acknowledge it?

Again, the issue here is not whether or not fags should be able to get married, the issue here is why marriage is a requirement for any of those other administrative life issues. If we really want more freedoms and more individualism we need to strip away stupid requirements rather than wasting time trying conform to them. Especially when the requirement is a tradition who's usefulness has long since expired.

I'm so romantic.

The only way I will ever support marriage of any sort is when divorce becomes illegal.

The homo wedding issue is a prime example of putting the proverbial cart before the horse -- or in this case, the float before the parade -- or, the gerbil before the Gere --- or the weenie before the lube ---- or the pirate before the butt --- or the munch before the carpet or ----- ummm ---- aw fuck it, you come up with one.

I wonder how many lesbians have anal sex with a strap-on.

Blogger invincibleoverlord is a gaywad.

I agree with you 100% Merkley. The Government should back off. It's retarded how retarded our President is on this issue. Until 1967 it was a felony in many states for people of different races to wed. Despite the fact that the US Supreme Court made that ruling in 1967, some states left "Anti-Miscegenation" laws on their books until 2000!


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February 12, 2005

Rules Rule When You Rule.

I know this blog is not even a month old, but I can already see a few dozen people clicking through the pages, I even know how long you stay. Web stats are cool like that.

I also want to thank those of you who have dropped me a line for your nice emails proclaiming my awesomeness. Dood, people who think I'm awesome are awesome. The links are rad too.

Anyway, we might agree that one of the coolest things about blogs is the ability for readers to comment. It is also a feature that turns many blogs into a huge sack of poop. So, to make this whole experience more fun for everybody ---- ummm --- I mean ME, I have decided to pre-empt the stinky "comments diarrhea" disaster that I see on many other blogs by establishing some very specific, very rad rules. After all, it's great rules that make great games. I'm adding a permanent link to it in the sidebar but there is also a link directly below every post.


Blogger invincibleoverlord is a gaywad.

The page is scrolling much better now.
I like your blog.
What happened to the Tsinking Tsunami? Whats going to happen if the Iraqis democratically elect another Saddam-like meanie?


Blogger invincibleoverlord is a gaywad.

OOps, I found the TT in January. I get how this works now. I forgot what month this is.


Post a Comment

How Things Work Around Here

I am the somewhat benevolent dictator in these parts. My website ain't no god darn democracy. Before you post some fairy dick comment, consider the following.

1. Short comments are rad. Long comments are gay.

2. Comments must include at least one of the following words: Poop, Boob, Boobies, Fart, Weenie, Hoohaa, Butt, Finger, Neck, Turd, Retard, Fag, Negro, Chachi, Honkey, Duck, Dingleberry, Boner, Hole, Nutts, Encephalitis, Homo, Pee, Roundhouse or Grandpa.

3. Comments must *not* include any of the following words: Fiscal, Institutional, Hegemony, Imperial, Global, Homey, Fascist, Sanguine, Preventable, Quagmire, or Dorito --- unless they are directly partnered with any of the words from item 2 -- for example: Fiscal Negro, Institutional Dingleberries, Preventable Grandpa, Global Homo, Fascist Boner.... you get the picture.

4. This Website is here for MY enjoyment.

5. Do not attempt to change my personality. I've had it my whole life and I don't need, want, or care about what you think of it unless you agree with me that -- it is perfect the way it is.

6. Do not teach me philosophy. If you want to teach a philosophy course, set up your own blog and I might visit it and leave an awesome comment about how fat Michael Moore is -- holy shit that guy is fat.

7. Comments on grammar and spelling are appreciated although they are likely to be deleted so that I can maintain my image of perfection.

8. Make sure to read the fine print at the bottom of the main page. It's really rad.

9. Anyone that would follow any stupid comment rules is probably a boring slug. Say whatever the fuck you want. Like I give a shit.

HA HA --- I just wasted your time.

Oh yeah, Non-confoming comments will probably be deleted.

That's all for now.
Happy commenting --- homo.

Blogger Alex Blagg is a gaywad.

But Merkley, shouldn't this, like all blogs, be a place where really clever and snarky Shangri-La-dwelling shut-ins come and lord their superior knowledge of all human experience over anyone who happens to make the mistake of being brave enough to put a concrete opinion out into the world?



Anonymous is a gaywad.


Listen here buddy, if you edit any of my words, I will come to your
house and piss on your lousy pretentious art and tag your mutherfuckin
house; you racist, sexist, ugly, and xenophobic snot nosed fucking
mormon. Fuck your "enjoyment," I have my own enjoyment to consider.
And speaking of your "artwork." OH, how shocking it is to see that
you use anti-mormon symbolism to show your distain for mormons and what
they stand for. You're like an art _ _ _ who tries to "push the
envelope." And what is this _ _ _ _ about you being the ultimate
"bullshit detector?" I am the RULER, when is comes to detecting

What the fuck was that first comment about? The comment written by
Dingleberries. It's not "brave," to "put a concrete opinion out
into the world." I quess I would be the bravest person on the face of
the earth. I'm not brave, I'm just stupid. But, my artwork is
something to be admired, because it is unique, and honest, unlike Mr. Merkley's

P.S. Look how "brave" I am, I put my real email on this shitty ass
blong thing.


Blogger Alex Blagg is a gaywad.

how deep does the rabbit hole go?


Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.

See? Now Mr. Blagg used the word "hole" IN CONTEXT and not just as an add on. So he gets an "A".

Mr. Szugye barely avoided deletion by quoting the sign off of Mr. Blagg's earlier comment -- "Dingleberries", although I suspect it was an accident. Also it was a little long and included the word "xenophobic" which is not represented on the list of banned words in letter form but clearly represented in spirit.

Szugye gets a C- because he is a weener.


Anonymous Billy Bunks is a gaywad.

Whilst recently fucking around with my mouse like the sanguine fag that I clearly am NOT, I came across this ‘Merkley’ so and so’s writings etc. and in the course of perusing it, picked 1 x booger and flicked it into the otherwise empty rubbish bin which is owned by the place I work for and is situated by my feet.


Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.

that is exactly the kind of behavior that i can fully support.


Anonymous BillyBunks is a gaywad.

Thanks for the support, but hey, you supportive asshole, shouldn’t this; ‘… they are directly partnered with any of the words from item 5..’ read ‘…unless they are directly partnered with any of the words from item 2 ..’ ? Unless you truly want them (i.e us) to partner those forbidden words with any of these words: Do, not,attempt, to,change, my, personality, I've, had, it, my, whole, life, and, don't, need, want, or, care, about, what, you, think, of, it, unless, agree, with, me, that, is, perfect, the, or way. (i.e item 5).
I don’t think this falls under grammar, but it may fall under spelling (item 1, I mean 7), as you may have misspelled ‘2’ as ‘5’, and if this is the case, Merkley, may Charles Bronson’s zombie copy one of your paintings and sell it for less than you failed to sell the / your original.


Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.

once again you were right! Thanks for pointing out my complete stupidity and that of all the others that read these rules and failed to report such an obvious and retarded error.

The rules have been fixed thanks to an australian rap star!


Anonymous Kayla is a gaywad.

Merkly, I am a bitch and I'll admit it. Go the fuckin' bitches! But I personaly didn't have a very big problem with your website. You dont like animals. But it does not sound like you are out there harming LIVING CREATURES that have done nothing to you. Except the mice, I am sorry but I applaude people against the whole mouse and rat thing. But I am a horse person. I have been around horses all my life and that is MY personality. So I also think it's awsome you stand by your opinion. But I just want to let others out there know to fuck themselvs, because I WILL find someway to disturb someone who is only jealous because a horse has a bigger cock than them. Cause thats WHY most people 'hate' horses. :-D But yes go bitches.
Please e - mail me anyone if you have a problem with my pointing out the fact your jealous of a horse for having a larger brain *or penis* than you.


Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.


a joke. it's a joke.

don't be a retard.


Anonymous Kayla is a gaywad.

No, your website is a joke, I know. Im not insulting you or your website when I say that. I posted here because every other god forsaken site with their 'opinion' on that of how they hate horses and their graphics etc., and how their blogs have been closed. Mmmhmm. For those people I want to say I am a bitch and fuck you, dont harm other INNOCENT animals, because every living thing is an animal. That does not exclude people, whether it is on what they are classified as or in their fucking nature. Such as Dog Food Dale, what kind of shitty name evne if your just posting is that. And for a lot of people hating horses is just a joke, posting it on a site. But beleive me, my little 'gang' of haters, we've beat the shit out of more people that dont have anything agaist horses other than they want one damn it, or they just dont understand them. Its like my shit with sharks. Im afraid of them, and so I hate them. and that is why most people are afraid of horses. They are large animals that have been known to do some awful things, but that is not just one animal standing for the whole breed and species. I have been kicked, drug, stepped on, thrown, bitten, and have had several ribs broken, wrists, arms, leg, you name it I've broke it just about and because of horses but I still dont hate them because they are dumb animals, but they have more common sense than you can imagine. I've seen a horse go to a man because he was crying, CRYING, hunched down in the corner ofa horse pasture because his daughter had DIED. His horse came to him and put its head in his chest, even though the man had beaten him several several times, starved it, and hell he'd even shot it a few times with a gun. But that horse still came to him because it knew he was in pain! Trust me though the horse hadn't forgotton who the guy was, his eyes were rolling and he was just about having a heart attack but he still came to him. Merkley I am sorry for taking up the space of your blog but I want everyone out there to read this because I know most of you do not hate horses, you either fear or envy them. SO SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTHS! "Your shaking because you hate them so much" YOur shaking because your so AFRAID of them duechbags! But Im "shaking so much because I hate sharks because they are so fucking evil and blah blah blah blah blah blah " Its like saying I hate merkley because of the way he looks, when I dont even know what he looks like. Its stupid to hate horses so much, aight. Go hate something that you do understand, like Satan.
And umm, my shrink says Im not retarded, Im mentaly confused ;-)


Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.


smell what i'm waving under your nose?

they're smelling salts.

wake up!

the horse blog is a JOKE. a buddy of mine and i made it in about an hour. nobody hates horses. IT'S A JOKE!!

i'm glue factory bob as well as rachelle in the comments section, my buddy alex is dog food dale.

J o k e.

now again, i must implore you, DON'T BE A RETARD!

otherwise i might have to make another site about how much we HATE retards using you as our primary focus.

also, there is no easter bunny, santa claus, or jesus. sorry to disappoint.


Blogger Professor Leotus Clouse & The Duke of Sweet Cheeks is a gaywad.

This post has been removed by a blog administrator.


Anonymous Anonymous is a gaywad.

Hey Merkley?? I am your cousin, Jonathan Merkley (minus the ???'s) Crane. I'm pretty sure we met once when we were kids, just once when you and your dad were in Tacoma, Wa. I was around 12, you must have been around 7 or 8. I'm 44 now so that was long ago. Just wanted to say What's up?.


Anonymous Anonymous is a gaywad.

I dont have a blog ID, that why I'm using anonymous.. In fact I just talked with your dad on the phone a few weeks ago when I was at my mom (your aunt's) house. She showed me your brotehrs DVD and your dad's new book. pretty cool.


Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.

hey jonathan,

wow -- fancy seeing you here.

yeah i'm just doing my best to turn our proud heritage into a bunch of juvenille vulgarity --- i have to say that it is with a mix of pride and horror to think that the merkley clan stumbles in here to read about poop this -- booger that -- eff word this and eff word that ---- but hey

cue music


anyway, yeah, last ime i talked to your mom was about 13 years ago, we chatted on the phone for a few minutes and then at the end of the month i got phone bill for over ten grand --- apparently some mix up in the system made it seem like we had a continual one month long phone conversation, believe it or not, the phone company maintained for a few days that it was actually possible that i like my aunt THAT much.

dont show her my website --- please dear god no.


Anonymous Anonymous is a gaywad.

Don't worry, I wont show her! Glad to see you are doing well. Take it easy. Jon


Anonymous Anonymous is a gaywad.

Read your comment at blurbomat, Merkley. Spot-on, and funny as hell. Now go turd-fondle yourself, would ya?

BoatSailor, anonymous only 'cause I ain't registered...


Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.

thanks pal. nine times out of ten when i hear someone yelling and screaming about racism, the only horse they have in the game is their own daftly groomed and promoted public image as a completely non-racist saint.

i'm actually not afraid of racism all that much. so long as the law protects individuals, i don't give a fuck how anyone else talks or feel about anyone. sticks and stones type shit. pretty basic.


Blogger Marisa Olson is a gaywad.

Poop on my Dorito Boobies and call me Grand[m]a, you & Dog Food Dale sure are hard to reach! I just wanted to let you know about this:


ps my word verification word ended in bbq.


Anonymous Fulminatia is a gaywad.

who made you the little hitler of this site, no rules , so therefore I just ellabrorate in here , I know how much you hate it,no blasfemie, no cursing ,nada bad language , now that is dissapointing is it not?
for the rest have aball party till ya poop bla bla,


Anonymous 123 is a gaywad.

you are insulting ,behaving like a pig, no manners what so ever ,your wife smell like a throg. so fat lip to you .do bend over and c y in court, warthdog.
Love you till the
See y this weekend at the PForum
guesss that was it , thanks for the outlet on the internet highway , its hard to find a toilet between al the banners and skyscrapers.


Blogger Monkey is a gaywad.

Diggin' those pictures!!!!



Post a Comment

February 11, 2005

I Could Have Just Said NO.

Last night I was part of another group art exhibition curated by my friends who call themselves, interestingly enough "The Curators". They have a little franchise going that started with the first "My Adidas" show in which a couple dozen artists were given the challenge to do their own interpretation of the classic shell toe Adidas shoe. That show was fun enough, It was kinda like doing a pinewood derby.

It started out as nothing but a groovy concept to hearken back to the days of yore when everyone customized their own shoes. Anyway -- Adidas, the huge multi-national corporation got wind of the idea and they jumped on the bandwagon to quickly bask in the glow of the street cred gained from such an event. I thought Adidas' official involvement cheapened the whole thing and almost made it kinda campy but I was happy to see my buddies make a few bucks.

The next show was "The Eames Project" -- basically the same concept except we all decorated an Eames chair instead of a shoe. A pattern was forming. Still, I did pinewood derbys once a year and loved it each time -- so I just went with that. But then, following the pattern of the first show, they had it sponsored by the Charles and Ray Eames house in LA --- hmmmn -- wait a minute, Is this just an ad campaign? I'm not so sure I signed up for any ad campaign and I'm certainly not being paid for one. -- awww fuck it, who cares -- they don't even sell Eames chairs anymore.

The next show was The Boom Box Show. Same concept with boom boxes and no possibility of corporate sponsorship -- I was happy to be a part of that one too.

Then Roman broke off and did a show called 21 Larrys and that was all right except for that it was also the night that I called out a local tagger for tagging a bus right in front of all those in attendance. A yelling match ensued in which I lectured him at full volume about the value of property rights to which he responded by scaling the nearest building defiantly tagging it as I screamed "There is somebody tagging your building!! Come out and catch them!!" it was truly a heated exchange and humorous spectacle as many in the crowd were of the graffiti lovin' persuasion. The scene ended with a young hip hopish girl yelling at me these words: "I thought you were a legend! I thought you were a legend!" she seemed as if she was about to cry. -- it was weird.

So that brings me to the point of this story which is based on the hypocrisy and retarded logic of that whole crowd -- including that of my friends who call themselves "The Curators". They need to be called out and I'm just the guy to do it.

Look people, you can't go around talking about how evil American corporations are and how you just gotta "keep it real" while rockin' your dumb ass Che Guevara t-shirts and at the same time curate an art show at -- get this -- The Adidas Concept store. That's right, last nights show either climbed to new heights or sunk to new lows depending on your opinions of sucking on the corporate teat. Last nights show wasn't even held in an art gallery. Nope. It was in a fucking shoe store. Keeping it real my ass. And in case it wasn't abundantly clear about the huge corporate status of Adidas Inc., the design of the shoe store should have been the first clue. Think "The Gap" and you'll have idea what it looked like.

For me, the whole thing was a bit embarrassing. Something just feels wrong about doing artwork to pump up a huge corporations "street cred" without getting huge money to compensate me for my *loss* of "street cred". And I don't even give a fuck about street cred. If you pour through all my writings over the years you won't find one passage about street cred unless it's me making fun of the people who care about such a retarded idea.

But it's with these same exact dudes that I have had hours and hours of frustrating conversation in which they extol the virtues of "keeping it real" and "evils" of big business while I bore them with lectures promoting more libertarian ideals.

I had a few cocktails before I arrived last night and my mouth was taking advantage of the opportunity to point out the obvious hypocrisies -- in fact, my piece of art work displays the message as well --- maybe I'll go up there and take a picture of it. But since I don't have one I'll explain it. -- It's four of my dudes -- like the ones from the old wisdomisms portion of the old website.

The first one is not wearing a nice dark suit like all of his cohorts, instead he is wearing a hot pink Adidas track suit on which is pinned a political button which reads "Vote Nader" and he is saying "I feel like a total sellout".

The next dude is also wearing a button, but his says "Vote Bush" and he is saying; "You look like a total FAG."

The next wears a "Vote Kerry" button and he says: "I'm OK with fags".

The last dude says "I'm OK with sellouts... meeting adjourned. Anybody got any weed?" his button says "Vote Woody".

And that pretty accurately reflects my views on "selling out" -- I'm ok with it if you want to do it. But I'm not interested in doing it myself. --- Well -- not for fucking free anyway. I have my price. Make me an offer.

As much as I love the American corporation with their Mcdonalds, Taco Bells, Coca Colas and what have you, I am just not interested in having my artwork associated with any of said corporations. Why? It has nothing to do me being anti-corporation or anti-anything really, It's more about my own notion that I think maybe art that tells the story of the artist might be more interesting and enjoyable to me than art that tells the story of a big multi-national corporation. Maybe that is what they mean by "Keeping It Real." -- Fuck keeping it real anyway -- who fucking cares?

My favorite part of the evening was when I was busting one of The Curators balls about sucking the big corporate Adidas dick and about how the next show should be at The Gap or Starbucks and how I was just a little bit embarrassed about having Adidas jizz on my face and he said the most wonderful thing I ever heard him say in the 7 years I have known him -- he said --- "You could have just said no."

What?!! You mean you are finally embracing the concept of free will? Holy Jesus and praise the lord you're learning. Maybe all of my lectures are starting to sink in. Hopefully he can extrapolate that little nugget of wisdom next time he feels like spewing off about how Clear Channel is brainwashing America and needs to be stopped.

As long as "No" still works, everything is juuuusst fine.

Anyway, I have zero beef with my pals and I wish my them all the success in the world. I just think now might be a good time for them to fully embrace the virtues of capitalism.

you know, this all reminds me of an email exchange I had with famed load of poop Shepard Fairey about a year ago. I'll find the emails and compile and post them below for your reading enjoyment.

Anonymous rebecca is a gaywad.

Listen, I like name calling every bit as much as the next girl, but dude you gotta offer the reader some foreplay. This comment can be applied specifically to this post but is really in response to a general sense I get of your weapon of choice, the insult.

What is the purpose of your rants? Is it to communicate and possibly affect or change people’s perceptions or is it just narcissus screaming into the pool like every other hyper active masturbating monkey in the shock jock legion. (Blogs are by nature a bit of both of course.)

I think your ideas are sold short when in general you present your philosophical premises by setting yourself up in opposition to something. You don’t like hypocrites, most of us don’t but all of us actually are hypocrites. The world is a richly conflicted enigma. Swapping one system of logic for another will never fix all the bugs. So embrace a few of the bugs. Who doesn’t love a supermodel with a limp, a liberal with a muscle car fetish, a general authority with a soft spot for bath houses?

Listen, you are funny, you are smart, you are the first one to sing those praises, but please don’t sing every word in the song with the same note.

OK, I am ready for punishment. Insert insult here ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ .


Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.

Softly -- softly softly ---
dramatic pause ---
softly softly --
building Building Building
louder LOUDER LOUDER -----

softly again --

softly softly
sshhhhhhh really really quiet now ---


Dead silence.

only crickets and a far off dog barking now....

... save the faint rustling of pages from a dictionary:

rant     P   Pronunciation Key  (rnt)
v. rant·ed, rant·ing, rants
v. intr.
To speak or write in a angry or violent manner; rave.

v. tr.
To utter or express with violence or extravagance: a dictator who ranted his vitriol onto a captive audience.

1. Violent or extravagant speech or writing.
2. A speech or piece of writing that incites anger or violence: “The vast majority [of teenagers logged onto the Internet] did not encounter recipes for pipe bombs or deranged rants about white supremacy” (Daniel Okrent). (hey looky There, I'm mentioned right here in the dictionary)
3. Chiefly British. Wild or uproarious merriment.

Oh yeah, the thing that you said about "what is the purpose of these rants?" --dood, it says it right at the top of the god damn motherfucking page, but to save your fingers from scrolling I'll repeat, these are "Questionable Rants to SHOVE DEEP INTO YOUR PANTS." How you do that is none of my business, but I don't recommend running baby wipes through your printer and would appreciate a snapshot when you're done.

Basically I like definition three.

cue retarded music while I hoot -- FUCK ALL YALL!! ---WEEEEEHAW!!


Blogger Alex Blagg is a gaywad.

rebecca, do you dare question the omniscient missives of the closest thing to god you'll ever have the privilege to read?


Anonymous rebecca is a gaywad.

“Questionable (my emphasis) Rants to SHOVE DEEP INTO YOUR PANTS (your emphasis)."

Main Entry: ques•tion•able

1 obsolete : inviting inquiry

2 obsolete : liable to judicial inquiry or action

3 : affording reason for being doubted, questioned , or challenged : not certain or exact : PROBLEMATIC (milk of questionable purity ((Look I am mentioned right in the dictionary too!)) (a questionable decision)

4 : attended by well-grounded suspicions of being immoral, crude, false, or unsound : DUBIOUS (questionable motives)
synonym see DOUBTFUL

If you just want minions then rock on dood you are sure to find your target audience. If you want interesting people to read or comment then indulge the “Questionable” part of your mission statement. All I am saying is it wouldn’t hurt to throw a bone to those who go to the trouble of shoving the fucker down their pants by mixing it up with a little lube(a little pianissimo goes a long way my friend.)

p.s. I have to agree with you about the selling out thing tho. Buy low sell high.


Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.

Fuck -- I guess I'm gonna have to change the name of this section to Three Exclamation Points!!!


unlike you, I find minions to be completely interesting. Especially if they are MY minions.

But thank you for explaining to me the subtitle of my own blog which I WROTE. -- me stoopid.


Post a Comment

Shepard Fairey is a "Phenomenal" Load of POOP.

You've seen Shepard Fairey's garbage. You probably have some of it stuck to your forehead. It's that infantile OBEY campaign that's everywhere you look.

I have always hated it. You all know how I feel about vandalism, which is the main focus of his "work". I met him once here at one of his shows in SF and we have many mutual associates. One evening I spent an hour or so on his website which, no surprise, turned out to be nothing more than a completely childish boatload of crap. This attempt to rationalize his theft of public and private property is a prime example of said crap:

<>The Obey campaign can be explained as an experiment in Phenomenology. The first aim of Phenomenology is to reawaken a sense of wonder about one's environment. The Obey campaign attempts to stimulate curiosity and bring people to question both the campaign and their relationship with their surroundings. Because people are not used to seeing advertisements or propaganda for which the motive is not obvious, frequent and novel encounters with Obey propaganda provoke thought and possible frustration, nevertheless revitalizing the viewer's perception and attention to detail. The medium is the message.For more info, please visit

So I decided to confront him directly --- such is the beauty of the internet.

Subject: You're Full of Shit
Date: January 4, 2004 4:49:02 PM PST

Blech -- nice try. You are doing nothing for society. You're lining your own pockets by stealing resources. You are as bad as anyone you condemn. You're a fucking hypocrite, a common thief.

"Ooohh look at me --- I'm Shepard -- I try to give deep meaning to simple vandalism and shameless self promotion". You only fool retarded teens. "Question your surroundings and relationships with objects?" What a load of crap. You sound like a shitty art professor at some shitty art school talking to a bunch of shitty art students who miss the point of everything. Your fans are all suckers. What a scam.

Shepard and Nike --- appealing to teens everywhere on a t-shirt or billboard near you.


He responded more promptly than I expected. -- a couple of hours later.

From: Shepard Fairey
Date: January 4, 2004 6:35:04 PM PST

I'm glad you are not one of those retards. What kind of shoes do you wear? I prefer Adidas to Nike personally. If you don't like what I do, maybe you could do something better to benefit the world. Let me know when that's underway so I can check it out.

At which point it appears that he spent all of 6 minutes on my site before writing another note. I was in the middle of writing my response when this came in.

From: Shepard Fairey
Date: Sun, 4 Jan 2004 18:40:55 -0800

So I checked out your site and the photos are well done but I'm not sure how portraits of vain hipsters is so antithetical to what I'm doing. I think you're gonna have to shift gears if you want to stand on the soap box with any cred.

I wrote back;

Subject: Soapboxes
Date: January 4, 2004 7:29:30 PM PST
To: Shepard Fairey

Focus. We're talking about you usurping public and private resources to further your own capitalistic endeavors while feigning some bullshit about your quest to become rich and notable being instead some artistic public service worthy of merit and contemplation. It's like me kicking you in the balls so you'll contemplate pain --- it's a service --- I'd be doing you a favor --- right?.

When these corporate institutions that "bombard us with their sales pitches" place billboards, they pay for them, or in language you might find more suitable, they re-distribute wealth. They pay printers, billboard pasters, property owners (big and small) and business owners (big and small) etc..... real people with real jobs that pay real money and taxes for things that you decide to steal and use as your own personal venue for your own personal statements. Not to mention the fact that these big corporations employ many many people.

You on the other hand give nothing in exchange for your own self promotion -- except maybe headaches and such to the nice men and women who have to clean up after your incredibly childish, self-centered ass. You certainly are in line with those terrible nutballs like Stalin, Che, and the rest whose images you appropriate to sell your goods. They too promoted "communism for everybody but me".

When I start pasting my photo's of my friends or errr ummm -- "vain hipsters" or stickers of my paintings on your front door, toilet seat, sidewalk, etc.. --- then I'll climb down off my soap box. And who are you to call anyone vain? The pride you seem to take while stealing resources from the general public is so arrogant and self obsessed it's loathsome.

I do art for a living too --- but I do it on my own fucking dime. My soap box is quite sturdy --- and unlike your stolen soapbox -- it's mine.

Teenagers dood --- that's who falls for your crap. You're swindling teenagers.

Take some fucking responsibility. Quit stealing resources from hardworking people. It's disgusting and wrong.


Half an hour later -- this response:

From: Shepard Fairey
Subject: Re: soapboxes
Date: January 4, 2004 8:04:23 PM PST

I'm a taxpayer and I make every effort to integrate my work in a way that is tasteful and will cause little trouble. Most of my work goes on buildings which are abandoned or boarded up, or on the backs of street signs where there is no interference with their intended communication. Is there anything that you could point out as particularly disrespectful? Stalin etc.. are not being promoted, only presented. If you bothered to read anything you would know that the idea behind my stuff is to encourage people to question everything they are inundated with including my is cautionary. As far as my scheme to get rich goes, I did not even make products until a couple years ago but the project has been going since 89. The resources I usurp are a drop in the ocean compared to what our govt does. Get some perspective.

The next day I followed up with:

Subject: Re: soapboxes
Date: January 5, 2004 5:46:16 PM PST
To: Shepard Fairey

I've got perspective --- but more importantly, I've got some of your lame ass stickers on my building. Perhaps you'd like to come clean them off.

I have read all your stuff. My arguments still apply. The Absolut ad campaign thing you wrote was especially wrongly assessed. Dood -- they used the campaign because all the kids like you and I that liked the sex pistols are now all grown up --- most have respectable jobs ---- ummm such as --- say --- ad executives and PR reps for Absolut. --- Time -- age --- that's the perspective to apply here.

Luckily, not all artists consider themselves to be so enlightened and above the law as you ---

You really could save more face by just fessing up. It's all about you. It always has been. If we speak of hypocrisy, you have zero credibility. I don't care how many art school students (so credible) and skater dudes swallow your bull. When you stuck that first sticker on that stop sign, it was all about Shepard, everything since then has been a surprisingly successful attempt to rationalize Shepard looking out for Shepard.

Phenomenology? The only phenomenon here is that people so willingly further the private capitalistic endeavors of yours and your cronies at every other company in the world, but it's not really a phenomenon when you are encouraging it. It's one of millions of campaigns. It is no more a phenomenon than any other aspect of mortality and human behavior. It's no more a phenomenon than you convincing yourself that you are doing a public service as you kick the public in the nuts and take their stuff. You're a common thief -- that's all. --- Don't get me wrong. I am an unapologetic capitalist. I would be the first one to congratulate you for any financial success if you weren't lying and stealing in the process. Double standards are double standards. If you don't have to pay for the resources to advance *your* agenda then why should Texaco or Coca Cola?

It is this arrogance and self-centered smugness that really pisses me off. Especially because you
have managed to convince a large number of people to go along with it. If McDonalds promoted a sticker campaign and was giving out stencils and spray paint with instructions on subverting public policy to advance their image -- you'd scream bloody murder.

And this ain't about your art. It seems well executed enough to me. As a somewhat accomplished artist and painter myself, your prints are well made and are somewhat aesthetically pleasing to my particular tastes. But that's not the argument. Michelangelo would feel my same wrath if he was sticking stickers on the ceilings of public transportation.

Society functions when society negotiates. Come on dude --- do the right thing and admonish your sticker armies to lay off --- it's a phenomenon that you are not ashamed of yourself.

I have made my point. Yours is clear from your website. I hope you will change your mind and modify your philosophy. I wish you great success in any honest venture you pursue. As for me, I will continue to admonish those who rape the taxpayer, be them huge corporations or individual dudes on skateboards. NO DOUBLE STANDARDS.


That was the end of that. I won.

Since I decided to post this little exchange, I thought it'd be a good idea to re-visit his crappy site to see if he has changed any of his stupid views -- and lo and behold, I found this little nugget. I'd take credit for it, but I think it's more like he is shitting his pants about finding himself in the poorhouse or the slammer.

I still think he is a load of poop.

Blogger Alex Blagg is a gaywad.

he's almost as poopy as his overpriced, stupid-face clothing line.


Blogger beerzie boy is a gaywad.

Awesome screed.


Blogger neklas is a gaywad.



Blogger fugusashi is a gaywad.

Well said.

Doing what you want, when you want, without regards to others is anarchy. It's the easy way out.


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February 10, 2005

SFist Interview

I did an email interview for and they didn't even have an editor go through and capitalize my "i"'s or anything. What slackers. I guess ya gotta do that shit on your own these days. Sheesh.

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A Gay Ass MySpace Survey.

Sometimes you just gotta do them, this one is colossally gay.

Who Was The Last Person Who... or Time You......

x. Slept in your bed?

Me -- asshole I ain't friggn Michael Jackson, when I have a guest *THEY* fiddle with *MY* nutts and then *THEY* sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor.

x. Saw you cry?

Oprah -- but she made me cry, that fucking bitch. I love her.

x. You shared a drink with?

Keep your stinky lips off my drink. Get your own.

x. You went to the movies with?

Quinn AKA Bing Ji Ling, I don't remember the movie. I'm pretty sure it sucked.

x. You went to the mall with ?

I go to the mall once every two years just to be reminded bout how out of touch with mainstream America I really am -- but shit, these food courts are out of control. A Big Mac just looks so retarded next to a plate of of beef broccoli chow mein. At least sit on a different table. This UN stuff has gone too far.

And by the way people, not that I really care, but here's a little grammar lesson, It's improper english to say "who was the last person you went to the mall with?" We should try to avoid ending sentences with prepositions. The proper way to phrase the question is "Who is the last person with whom you went to the mall." Don't never say I never taught ya nuthin.

x. Yelled at you?

The ladies usually are screaming, not yelling. Somebody typed in all caps to me in an email. No matter what you think, THIS IS NOT YELLING ------ GEEK.

x. Sent you an e-mail?

Susan Hengst of House of Hengst, she's a friend and the girlfriend of my best friend and right now she is photography/design client of mine.

x. Said "I Love You" ?

I say it to my dogs and the man in the mirror -- not Michael Jackson you idiot ---- ME!! Although I did ask him to change his ways. Sorry for yelling.

x. Got in a fight with your pet?

I warn my pets daily that I could kill them and cook them because:

a: There would be no missing persons report filed for a damn dog.


b: Nobody would care...


c: Humans kill millions of dogs...


d: mutilate millions of dogs genitals every year....

just for;

e: the fun of it.

Needless to say, they don't fuck with me, Besides, they love that story, you should see how fast they wag their tails when I talk about the doggie gas chambers. Such are the benefits of not speaking english. I do the same thing to the chinks in China Town.

x. Went to California?

I live in California, but you know, every time I go to LA, it still seems like I am taking a trip to California. California is where famous people live. San Francisco is where complainers live.

x. Went to Canada?

1995, it was the year of the Grandparent Die Off. Seriously, it was like it was a race, at the beginning of 1994 all four of my grandparents were living, by the middle of 1995 they were all dead. Some kind of plague I guess. Somewhat convenient I suppose. Funeral city. -- oh -- I was born in Canada.

x. Danced naked?

I do a little shiver shake type deal every time I take a leak and occasionally I will take a leak right before getting into the shower which is an important time to be naked. I never thought of trying it out on the dance floor, but it's a good idea.

x. Dreamed something really crazy and then it happened the very next day?

I had a dream that I got in a shoving match with a certain famous rockstar and then the next day I had a somewhat awkward confrontation with that very same rockstar, but having already had the dream, I felt no reason to actually call that certain rockstar out to be humiliated. I am very generous and loving really. Besides, I already made him look like a fag in my dream.

x. Wished you were the opposite sex?

As in having a clone that was a chick? Yeah sure, then I could actually date myself for reals like I always wanted.

x. Had an imaginary friend?

When I was in junior high and a little behind the pack puberty wise, I made up a fictitious girlfriend for myself and for the satisfaction and deception of my friends. She was very very beautiful and extremely funny but unfortunately went to another school out by my dad's house where I spent the weekends. She was definitely the best girlfriend I ever had. I wonder what she's doing now. Maybe I should look her up and give her a call. Nah, she's probably fat and ugly and married or something.

x. Ever had a crush on someone?

I still have a crush on that imaginary girlfriend.

x. Read a book that you've never finished?

I hardly ever finish fiction, I can't be bothered with somebody else's stupid stories, I have too many of my own. I'm almost finished reading the internet though.

x. Felt like the whole world is out to get you?

Are you threatening me?

x. Thought of your future son's name?


x. Thought of your future daughter's name?

Your Highness.

x. Slept with a stuffed animal?

What makes you think that I'm a plushie? Is it my beard?

x. Thought of what's under your bed at night?

I know what's under my bed, and yes, I do sometimes lay awake at night thinking, "Maybe I should drag her out in the back yard and give her a proper burial."

x. Thought of switching siblings with a friend?

Only if I was friends with the Olsen twins. I have nothing against incest.

x. Wondered why the world is round when it seems flat?

Hey retard, That's a stupid fucking question. One more like that and you're getting kicked in the neck.

x. Pierced/Tattooed yourself?

I used to draw on myself all the time. I like tattoos but I think they are better to get when you are all decrepit and old, that way you can turn your cancerous moles and age spots into interesting body art. Be patient people. Too bad you can't tattoo or pierce gigantic, thick yellow toenails. Mostly piercings look really dumb.

x. Do you do drugs?

Only nachos.

x. Do you drink alcohol?

Are you offering? Great! Whiskey Coke, make it a double.

x. Who are your best-friends?

Me Myself and I --- and Butterface and Chico.

x. What are you most scared of?

Getting caught.

x. What clothes do you sleep in?

Depends on how drunk I am.

x. Where do you want to get married?

Six feet underground might be a good place, that is of course if I don't opt for cremation.

x. Who do you really hate?

That disgusting, fat, lying, manipulative fuck: Michael Moore. -- Oh and taggers. Idiots too.

x. Do you like being around people?

Smart people? Yes. Dumb people? Only if they are rich. Dudes? not really. Chicks? Hell yeah.

x. Are you for world peace?

Yes, which is precisely why I think it's a good idea to kill all of my enemies.

x. Have you ever liked someone you had no chance to be with?

There is ALWAYS a chance.

x. Have you ever cried over something someone of the opposite sex did?

Never. Tears are for fags.

x. Do you have a "type" of person you always go after ?

If you have been to my house you know that it is filled with things that were broken and discarded and that I pulled in off the street and made beautiful by giving them new context. I have found that I attempt the same thing with ladies. If I ever go after you, chances are it's because I think you need to be fixed or that you would look good lying around in my living room.

x. Do you want to be with someone you like that you're not with right now?

Sarah Silverman maybe. -- Oh and I was unexpectedly really attracted to Bonnie Hunt when I saw her playing Celebrity Poker on Bravo the other night and she's like 80 years old.

x. Are you lonely right now?

Yes, somebody please hold me -- waaaaaaaah -- of course I'm not lonely. Fags are lonely.

x. Do you get songs that get stuck in your head a lot?

I've been humming "Oops I Did It Again" non stop since the first time I heard it years ago. I hope it never stops.

Told you the survey was lame.

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February 08, 2005


If you search just "merkley" on Yahoo, I am the number one result! That's right, move over dad, move over Parry, move over you Merkley Elementary School and Merkley headgear, I am the most popular Merkley on the globe!!! HA HA HA HA!!! Geez, maybe I sould consider breeding, I could realistically take over the planet. You guys are all fucked --- er, I mean --- lucky --- I mean --- shit --- good news for everyone when I take over.

My deal with the devil is working --- and how.

Alright, so I'm only in sixth place on Google -- so what. You just wait until I start writing about sex with monkeys, dolphins and shoes --- I'll be number one then for sure.

Oooh -- and recipies -- I'll start posting recipies, people like good recipies, especially recipies for casserole or destruction --- huh? huh? see? That's how the brain of a genius operates. Take note losers.

First, I'll be the number one merkley, then the number one handsome person, then the number one human being, then the number one organism of all time. THAT'S IT!! ----- I want *my* name to come up as number one when you search the words "number one organism of all time". You just wait. It'll work, give it a few weeks for the Google robots to find this post and you'll see, and then you and the rest of your inferior loser oganism buddies will know who is in charge and you will all proclaim "merkley??? is the number one organism of all time".

but I don't want fame -- I just want huge money and a few more extra chicks. -- How am I gonna swing that? ---- oh. I got it. PORN. --- oh and NASCAR.

Oh shit, I really am a genius --- CAR WRECKS!! -- just car wrecks, people love'em.





And don't any of you asslips try to steal my idea by putting "the greatest organism of all time" on your stupid website. I thought of it first. --- just you check the copyright symbol at the bottom of this page. It means that I can clobber you with a sack of oranges if you so much as THINK of trying to usurp my birthright as "THE NUMBER ONE ORGANISM OF ALL TIME™"

Ha! Now it's trademarked and all it took was ctrl-2. I'm so lucky to be tthe greatest organism of all time. It helps with stuff like that.


Fuck off.

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February 03, 2005

Cynicism is Super Duper Fun!!

I love cynicism. -- Watch how fun it is.

You say:

"I don't care about the stupid elections in stupid Iraq, those 8 million Iraqis are just puppets of stupid George W. Bush"

And then I say:

"I don't care about your genius conspiracy theory about 8 million Iraqis making a secret oil deal with George W. Bush in which they end up fucked, I think you take Michael Moore's baby pig weenie up the ass. -- Wait, is that cynicism? You do it again."

You say:

"Right, as if there is gonna be a real democracy over there, everyone knows that is just for the TV cameras. Most Iraqis hate America and love tyranny -- as they should -- America sucks and we're not even a democracy anyway. George Bush was selected, not elected".

And then I say:

"You are astonishingly stupid.-- Wait, that's not cynicism, that's a fact. Crap, I'm not very good at this. You go again."

You say:

"This whole Iraq thing is a disaster! There is no difference between George W. Bush and Saddam Hussein, what difference does it make whether or not you "elect" Satan as your leader or not? He's still Satan and he still has you firmly by the balls, you're still fucked, McDonalds is still evil -- Starbucks still bites, -- veganism is still way on point yo."

And then I say:

"Wow, you are an amazingly retarded buffoon! You're so consumed with your hatred of George W. Bush and American culture that you should probably move to Cuba you fucking moronic doof. -- Wait, I screwed it up again, I keep getting hung up on glaring facts. This cynicism thing is really hard, I guess most truly hilarious things are."

I like it better when you do it ---- you cynical genius, uhhh I mean --- ASSHOLE.

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