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July 21, 2008

I Call It The Urban WANGtionary, Bi-Race War 2008 & Donald Trump Beats The Shit Out Of a Bald Guy Post Quake

I met a girl with gray pigment, she seriously looked like she was snipped from a black and white photo completely gray, cold gray even.

She was acting like she was black, waving her finger around, doing that neck thing, talking shit about Obama like she was an insider etc...

I call that "blacting" which I made up but I'll google right now to see how many other people made it up too.

Turns out millions of people made it up before me.

Doesn't mean I'm not original.

Anyway, the girl wasn't even black, she was GRAY.

She shouldda been acting like a vampire or industrial carpet.

I wasn't the only one that was annoyed, there was an albino, who, had she not been albino, would have been black, that was rolling her pink eyes the whole time.

And of course there was a black girl that was annoyed that the albino girl was acting white.

I like to act chinese or mexican when I take my racial vacations, that's why I'm original.

I hate Madonna.

When the earthquake struck I instantly remembered my training and stood next to a big huge pillar while I scoped out a place that would provide me a nice little triangle spot in the event that the building came down. I ended up laying on the floor next to a big log. If you don't know about the triangle method of earthquake sheltering, look it up, most people don't know about it and it's the best way to save your own life.

Minutes later, in all the rubble, I spotted Donald Trump beating the shit out of a little old bald man wearing pink rubber rescue boots.

I didn't stop to investigate.

Blacting is so touristy.
A comb-over is the most delicate of all hair triggers.

Now the Ettes:

That's all for now.
Don't get caught hypnotizing the ghetto.
Your Favorite Wig,
Refried Beans

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July 17, 2008

Step Dad Dykes, Cruising The Mall & Revenge Is Flavorless & Boring Presented By Vegans & The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints :The Mormons

There is a certain type of dyke I call The Step Dad Dyke. The reason is obvious. They are shaped like my step dad, saggy pants, zero ass, beer belly, little chicken legs and pack of hot dogs neck.

You have seen them.

Perhaps one of them married your mom.

Anyway, I saw my step dad yesterday but everything had totally changed. He was lean and slender, not like he just lost a lot of weight from not eating, like he had been working out.

I looked around for a thigh master.

We went to the mall to buy birthday presents for my sister that I haven't seen in almost 15 years and he floated about flirting and charming customers from store to store with all kinds of new game.

Not like a ladies man, like a fag.

What would my mother think?

I stopped him right before he wandered into the ladies rest room. I don't know, maybe he was just not paying attention but I started to wonder if he had some sort of inner queen whispering out directives.

Then I wondered if maybe he was a lesbian, but that didn't make sense because now he looked less Ellen, more Anne Heche.

"Step Dad Fag" doesn't sound right.

Coincidentally, later in the day I came home to find a really fat friend of mine naked in my bed. She too had the step dad body, like a big toad.

She got up to take a pee and I was tempted to make a wart joke but decided to save it for the blog.

Later on in the evening I scheduled a special dinner for a friend that recently pissed me off. I assembled a group of preachy mormons and vegans as dinner guests.

The Mormons were in charge of beverages.

The vegans were in charge of the food.

The dinner was at his house so he couldn't leave.

Ah revenge.

Dykes make excellent step dads.
Revenge is best served tepid (with Mormons and vegans)

Now The Ettes:

That's all for now.
Don't get caught confusing step dad dykes with hamburger dykes.
Your Favorite Anti-Hamburger Step Dad Dyke Cologne,
Aqua Vulva

Anonymous szugye is a gaywad.

Vegans and Mormons are preachy? That's odd. I always thought they kept their views to themselves. *while I do 'that neck thing'* I seriously want to HEAR your gut reaction to the word I'm about to write...BELGIUM

Szugye aka Not quite Gay today...


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July 09, 2008

Beloved By Big Bellied Babies, Unfazed By Undead Uncles & Blinded By Beaming Bifocals

I was hanging out with a bunch of fools yesterday and there was a baby in our midst.

The baby liked me best out of everyone.


One of the fools was a weird old uncle fella who was sleeping in the closet which you'd think wouldn't make him tough competition really, but, he WAS at ground level and slobbery with a stink in his pants and you know what they say about birds of a feather...

and still the kid chose me.

Meanwhile, the Aunt was wearing really thick glasses that looked like headlights which sounds like just a nifty little way to describe big ugly old lady glasses except these things actually lit up and beamed just like headlights.

Still she couldn't find the light switch.

I couldn't figger out why she needed to.

I wanna get me some of them glasses.

Anyway, I gave the baby ice cream but only AFTER it liked me best.

I could see it gain weight right before my eyes, like filling up one of those pastry nozzle tube dealies with frosting.

I didn't stick around for the "decoration of the cake" if you know what I mean.

Babies are peanut butter dispensers.
Old people are stretched out babies.

Now Belinda:

That's all for now.
Don't get caught metamorphoring into some kind of weird aerosol cheese craving.
Your Ambassador of Good Dill,
The Vlassic Stork

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July 02, 2008

My Visit To The HeadacheLand Artists In Residency Compound, My Hard Hitting SkinHead Exposé & Job Schmob Corn Cob

I visited an old friend of mine last weekend. He is an accomplished illustrator and consequently he has taken up residency at a log cabin ranch way out in the woods. They aren't regular log cabins as the logs are made out of metal and painted to look like wood, like trailers made to look like cabins. I could hardly see the point with so many real logs all over the place.

He was busy painting away, so not to be outdid, I drew a big intricate drawing of a tree with brand new buds forming on the branches all springtimey except the buds were all skinhead's heads.

I associate springtime with Hitler just like all of you guys.

Anyway, the skinheads were all buck toothed and cross eyed, which is totally funny cuz it's unexpected because skinheads are usually handsome geniuses with great vision.

The other residents of the fake cabin complex kept wild animals as pets and behaved in distinctly carnivalishy ways 24/7 which was way too burning man for me.

Hang out too long with artists in residency and you'll end up wearing the jester hat acting whimsical..



I did however enjoy the wide smiled monkey dog created in the crossbreeding workshop.

Round about quittin time, the director of the compound put out the word that they were looking to hire more artists and my friend wasted more energy than needed trying to convince me to apply.

I was tempted for minus ten seconds.

Apparently he didn't remember the last time he vouched for me and got me an art job. I spent the most of the workday conducting personal business on the company phone or sleeping under my desk.

True story.

Skinheads are like pussy willows minus the willows.
EmploYEe, not ME.

Now Schteffie:

That's all for now.
Don't get caught making conceptual circumcision doodles of skinheads in high pink turtlenecks.
Your Race War Instigation Precinct Captain,
Charlie Brown

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