Well as you can tell, not a fucking thing has been going over the past month at the warehouse.  With good reason too.  Since all of us have a combined total of 86 arrest warrants out on us, some more then others, we have had to lay low and not be “harmful to society” anymore according to our “attorney”, IC.  Well, after 3 hours we were nearly out of booze and there is only one woman here and she’s a raging bitch, so we were getting antsy. 

Since I had flat out nothing to do, I was wandering the halls dragging a mostly empty bottle of Jameson when I happened across Bug’s lab.  Bug, being brainy and douchey and someone who actually enjoyed “working”, was hard at work on something.  I sloshed in and asked him “hey fuckie, whaths you doinenen?” to which he replied “…”.  WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?  So I opted for plan B.  I grabbed him by the back of the head, opened his mouth and poured the remainder of my bottle of Jamo down his throat.  Well it had an extreme effect on the little Bugger.  He started staggering all over and singing!!!  HI-larious. 

What happened over the next 3 hours is a blur.  But when I awoke, bug and I were naked sprawled on the floor with excreted bodily fluids all over the room.  Suddenly, an alarm started and one of bug’s “machines” on the wall started to vibrate.  Bug shot up and yelled “holy shit!  My cloner!”.  Not knowing what a “cloner” was, I didn’t care.  At all.  Seriously, my head was pounding and Bug’s irritating voice was not helping the situation.  But he started complaining about “timing” and “sequences” and his machine “not being ready”.  Suddenly the machine started making more noise, vibrating more, and all power from the warehouse was being diverted to the “machine”.  Which I’m sure pissed of Mac because he couldn’t read his recipe book, pissed off Spherx because he was touching himself to his “Cora porn” and pissed off Cora because she was touching herself to her “Cora porn” and probably didn’t piss of Patches because he is dead.  As the light show continued in Bug’s lab, Bug ran around with fury while I sat there naked watching the show. 

Suddenly all of the noise and lights and vibrations stopped.  In the pitch black dark, only a small glow emitted from the machine.  Standing in the doorway of the machine was a grotesque figure.  As it stepped forward with an oozing motion, bug uttered one phrase “it’s…. alive”.  As the horrible figure came into view, it was clearly obvious that this clone was part me.  Part Quiphen.  As Bug ran his tests on the slurping burping is was discovered that the abomination was a clone of 2 inhabitants of the warehouse.  One was me, and the other was… IC!!  IC had somehow stumbled on our drunked nakedfest and decided to contribute.  Some of his sperm must have ended up mixed with some of my vomit and formed a unique strand of DNA that found it’s way into Bug’s machine.  As this realization came to me, I heard a faint idiotic laughter coming from the hallways.  Bug and I decided that the abomination had to go.  Then we did something terrible.  We named it.  We decided on QuICphen. 

Kind of catchy isn’t it?  Anyway, as bug put together a molitov cocktail to end the short life of the little guy, he took off into the vents of the warehouse.  Over the next 3 minutes the extremely quick little douche ran throughout the warehouse.  Screams came form each crew member’s rooms as he ransacked them with great speed and stealing whatever he could get his hands on with Quiphen’s athletic prowess and peeing and pooping on everything with IC’s fury.  The last we saw of him was in IC’s room.  As I kicked in the door I saw QuICphen and IC staring at each other from across the room.  IC muttered “my son…”.  I took a step into the room and QuICphen saw me and took off into the vent that reached the outside world.  The abomination was loose in the city. 

I rounded up all of the domain and we spilled out guts.  Naturally Bug blamed me since I got him drunk.  After checking our rooms we found out that the only thing of real value that was stolen was Cora’s Frequent Flyer Credit Card.  Which has about 900,000 free miles on it so this little bugger could fly just about anywhere.  After following the pee trail that led to the airport, we bypassed security and headed to the terminal.  The pee trail came to a stop in the middle of the terminal.  There were 7 of us and there were seven outgoing flights in that terminal.  Having no idea where he went, we decided to split up.  The flights were Pittsburgh, New York, San Francisco, Kansas City, Orlando, Portland, and Minneapolis.  So as mastermind of the debacle, I sent Spherx to Pittsburgh, Cora to New York, IC to San Francisco, Bug to Orlando, Mac to Portland Patches to Minneapolis, and I’d take Kansas City.  We decided to meet back at the warehouse in a week whether we found the little bastard or not.  So as we all snuck aboard one of the flights, we pondered the destinations we were going, and what adventures might lie ahead…..

TO BE CONTINUED………..

Some day’s I like to lay around naked with my dingle dangle hanging out, singing opera, and eating chocolate ice cream…I call this my Dingle Dangle Diva Day…This has nothing to do with anything I was just putting it down on paper to let everyone know I have a Dingle Dangle Diva Day…

I was walking in the park the other day whistling some phat beats, when I stumbled upon a small newspaper with ladies on it…It was called the Victoria’s Secret catalog…Who is this Victora and what is her so-called secret?…I decided to go on a journey to find out…this proved to be a little more difficult than I thought…Spherx and the gang had locked me in the park after I had smeared poop-staches on all of their self painted portraits…To be fair I painted one on my painting also…

So I had to plan an escape out of my poop-stache-painting-prison…but in order to do so I needed to make them think I was still inside that prison…so I, using a series of flowers and grass blades, painted a to scale version of myself standing in the corner…I then hid in the bushes and made a bunch of whispers to make people think that I needed to talk to them…Patches walked by and I whispered, “Free Brains”…he seemed to hear nothing and kept walking…Cora walked by and I whispered, “Hey there is a coupon to a hair boutique in here”…nothing…finally some carny looking bastard who had a wheel holding his head up was walking by…I whispered, “Hey Bro come check this out”…He paused and opened the gate using his massive head butting powers…

I started to walk out when I realized he too left a stream of urine on the ground…curious…any who I ran off to find Victoria’s Secret…I hope it is something dirty…like really dirty…

So I decided I’d do some spring cleaning, now that it’s summer, so I ventured into the store room to set about shredding a bunch of our old files. That’s when I found a box full of my old incriminating evidence from various crimes I committed! I didn’t just throw that out, I burned it! While I was waiting for the fire to die down I noticed a peculiar box in the corner stacked upon a column of other file boxes and decided to flip through it. The box wasn’t labeled and to my surprise, inside was a cache of polaroids of various chitti that I didn’t recognize. One was extremely obese looking, and another had a ginormous forehead propped up by a crutch on a wheel. It was kinda gross but facinating at the same time.

Suddenly, while peeping through this mysterious box, I was started by the sound of a fart out in the hallway which caused me to drop the box and lose some of the photos in the crack between the file boxes and the wall. I yelled “Fuck!” and pulled the boxes from the wall so I could get to them but soon discovered a tiny, recessed door as well. Naturally I had to investigate further and upon opening it, was over-whelmed by the stench of ramen noodles and dried blood.

The door revealed a smelly dark passageway that I cautiously crawled into. The floor got stickier and squishier as I snuck further and further into the blackness until, finally, I saw a sliver of light at the other end. I pushed aside numerous cobwebs to get a closer look at what appeared to be Cora’s room. I didn’t see much else after that because I was swifty transported from the tunnel and somehow fell out of the sky and into the neighboring junkyard with the vicious guard dogs.

As I ran for my life, I wondered about the mysterious cavern I crawled through…

It is time for a new job…I have looked extensively and I have decided to apply for the position of hot dog maker…My job consists of filling the skin with the ingredients that go into a hot dog…and I know that the inside of a hot dog is made up of; sawdust, ants, pig lips, human ears, bat wings, laughter, baby tears, and shovel tips…I was curious why people eat all of this shit, but then I grilled one with the team on my first day and, HOLY SHIT!!!These things are fucking amazing…My first day on the line I think I ate fifty one…I found out that the hot dog eating record was…sixty eight hot dogs…so, determined, I tried to up my score day by day…My second day I ate fifty six…I know you all are jealous…

About ten minutes after I ate the second round of hot dogs, I had to poop so bad that I could not breathe…with no where else to poop I hooked up the filling tube to my ass and filled the hot dogs with my smelly inside paste…This turned out to be one of the worst things I have ever done, because the person after my in the filling line said that the hot dogs smelled terrible and that we should taste check the first few…rather than watch every one eat my poop and loose my job I made the choice to eat all of the poop dogs…the first few were awful…like really awful…so bad that I had to throw up down the tube in to the hot dog skin, thus creating Up Dogs…hehehe…what’s Up Dogs???

So there I was eating Poop, Up, and Hot dogs…I got really sick…Pretty soon I was secreting fluids and stuff from all orifices…what I will not say, lets just end it with Children Dogs..anyways…I had to quit the job due to CDC Law and return to the domain…but at least I made two hundred bucks while I was there…

As I flipped through the newspapers of this planet, watched TV, surfed the net, downloaded porn, I was constantly reminded of the current “crisis” as a lot of you call it. 

I am of course talking about the BP Horizon Platform Oil Spill. 

If you’re not familiar with this, well, you’re an idiot.

IC, the BP Horizon Platform was an off shore oil rig that had an explosion on it.  This caused it to catch fire sinking into the ocean, and it’s well was left open via the pipe that was attached…

IC, an off shore oil rig is a platform that drills into the ocean floor for the purpose of pumping out oil….

IC, oil is a fossil fuel that is found within the earths crust that is used in the creation of fuels for….

IC, play with this ball.

Anyway, back to my idea.  There are a lot of people out there who are crying about the environmental damage and are crying for BP’s head, as well as how the governement is not doing enough about it.  There have been countless polls about the public opinion of BP as well as of the governments response.  There have even been some comparisons to Hurricane Katrina, which frankly, was far worse then this oil spill, but explaining the differences to people will be like trying to explain this article to IC (see above). 

However I don’t view this as a “crisis” or a “disaster” or a “travesty”.  To me, this Horizon Oil Spill is an “opportunity” in disguise. 

I say, we light it on fire, and have people surf on it. 

VOILA!!  FIRE SURFING!!

Can you see it?  Hello X Games?  Are you there?

Say goodbye fear factor.  Eating bugs is no longer scary.

See ya Survivor.  When you get voted off fire surfing, you die.

So long Ninja Warrior.  You can take your jumping from padded bridge to padded bridge over normal water, because you’re not really a warrior, until you’ve surfed on water, that is on FIRE. 

Oh that’s not good enough for you?  Let’s throw some pissed off sharks in there that have been in a tiny tank and starved for the last month.  There you go.  Surfing on burning oilwater over pissed off hungry sharks. 

Some network out there will buy and air this idea.  America will watch it.

I know for a fact that America will watch this because America watches “Jersey Shore”. 

Nuff said.

So there I was, sitting there, minding my own business…when…out of nowhere…came a unique type of rain that I never would have expected…It was raining  Jack Daniels and all I could do was open my mouth and drink in the flavor…I realized that the more I was getting drunk the more pain I was feeling…it dawned on me that the pain was not from the alcohol entering my system…it was from the shards of glass that were falling with the booze…I went inside to get an umbrella that I had because I needed protection from the glass but also wanted to drink the booze still…

So there I was, with my umbrella, minding my own business…when…the umbrella began to get holes in it…I thought I was safe but the glass shards were penetrating the umbrella and slicing up my toes…well I thought it was my toes…turns out it was only one toe…okay so maybe it was not my toe…it was my penis…

So there I was, with my hole ridden umbrella and my detached penis, minding my own business…when…HOLY SHIT MY PENIS CAME OFF!!!!!!!!

IC told me there is this movie where a guy sews three people together, ass-to-mouth. I didn’t believe him until he showed me the trailer online. But even then, I thought it was one of those fake trailers. About a week later, one of my favorite theatres announced it would be hosting a midnight showing of the film. At that point I thought IC had really gone out of his way to perpetrate this hoax. But it was true and we made plans to see it with a crowd but couldn’t make it because we’d spent too much time playing his new ball-poem game and forgot due to the intense pain.

Luckily (or rather unluckily) while scouring the OnDemand service of a house we broke into late that night after drinking a lot and spray painting peoples’ dogs, we found the movie on Pay-Per-View! Still drunk, we watched it. In the opening scene, the creepy guy hunts a human on the highway. During this, Mac explained to us the best ways to cook human flesh. If we weren’t so drunk we would have acknowledged it as disturbing. Except Patches. He stormed out of the room upon hearing this discussion.

After the movie, IC proclaimed it to be the best movie of all-time and then threw up mid-sentence. I threw up from watching him throw-up and then laughed because the projection knocked off Mac’s chef-hat. Patches returned just in time to slip on the vomit soaked floor, get pissed off, and leave again. After we all stopped laughing, we quickly passed out.

The next morning we woke up and Idiot Chittix was missing. We searched the warehouse until we spotted a trail of blood and cotton which led us to him. IC had sewn two of his stuffed animals to himself ass-to-mouth and cut the tendons in his knees so he could only crawl. But he was really weak from all the alcohol, anesthesia, and infected surgery so he didn’t get very far.

So I have been away for a little bit…why you may ask, but I will say…Okay I will tell you…I decided to take up a new sport and it has monopolized my all of time…I have been training and preparing for the tournament of a lifetime…in fact it only happens only once every hundred years…What is this sport you may ask…what is so important that I forgot about torturing all of the SD inhabitants…How come I like sports…Why are you reading this…well, this is why…Myself and a group of crazy ass people invented a game that will revolutionize how you play and watch TV, internet, and life…

It is called Basetestunchball…the idea is to wing a ball as hard as you can as someone’s testicles while challenging them to a poem-off…what does that mean you ask…well it means that you have to recite a famous poem before you get hit in the balls…if you do so, you get one point and if you also show no pain during the moment of contact, you get two points…If you are able to scream an obsenity before the ball drops without emotion you get three points…all in all a great game…

So far I have played a complete season, and even though my balls are suffering I am excited to destroy the competition for next year…While I am back i think that I will try to convince the rest of SD to compete with me…we can all buy in as a team for only 20 bucks…it has become kind of a thrill for me…I am ready for the poetic pain…My goal is to be able to recite Shel Silverstein’s poem before I get wacked…

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.”

Curling.  What the  hell is it?

I got addicted to it during the olympics and I don’t know why.

And another thing, is it a requirement for Women’s Curlers to be viciously hot?

Because that part’s awesome.

Saturday night, IC and I went to a bar to try and play some foosball. Unfortunately, there was a big crowd so we had to wait a bit before we could play. We staked our claim for next game by placing a quarter on the table and then chilled at the bar until our turn came up.  We ordered some drinks and then IC said he was bored with drinking through his snout, so he poured the whiskey in his eye and screamed like a banshee! I was already on my fifth glass so I just laughed at his pain.

After another shot, IC bet me he could drink the whiskey through his penis. I told him that it was not only dangerous, but impossible yet worth fifty bucks to watch him try. And to my surprise, he hopped up onto the bar top, dropped his wiener in the glass, closed his eyes and soon the liquid was disappearing before my eyes! The glass was actually empty.

It was pretty amazing until IC snapped out of his zen moment and ubruptly pissed the whiskey back out across the backsplash. Also, there was a guy sitting next to us smoking a cigarette and the stream caught the tip and created a stream of fire, horribly burning the bartender! Even more amazing though was the bartender said it was cool and that it’s not the first time he’s seen that happen…

The foosball game still wasn’t over so we did even more drinking. I asked the bartender if I could invent a drink made of cranberry juice, ginger ale, and Jack Daniels. I called it a Ginger Jackberry and he called me a faggot. But I didn’t care, I was enjoying my drink. Suddenly, an older woman sat down next to me and asked where I came up with the idea for that drink. I told her that I was a born genius and ideas just come to me naturally. She suggested some other ideas for drinks and soon we were having a friendly conversation. Usually women don’t talk to me unless I’m doing something insulting so it was a nice change of pace. I soon learned about her job, relationship status, hobbies and so forth and she asked me what I was up to tonight. I explained that IC and I were going to compete in foosball and then she explained that she was going to go for coffee at the mall. I wished her a nice time to which she sighed and left. That’s when IC turned to me and whispered, “That chick was totally into you… you totally shoulda hit that. Growl…”

I had no idea I was being hit on. Was I? I couldn’t tell. How many other times have I mistaken friendly conversations with strangers when it was actually flirting?

These questions didn’t concern me for too long as we finally got called up to the foosball table where we dominated the evening by taking down all of our opponents. They were all frustrated that we were so good for being not so good while they considered themselves really skilled. We could have ruled the table until the bar closed but in the final game, IC accidentally let his testicles dangle too far over the table and they got pinched in between a thrust of the 3-man! Obviously he was no longer in any shape to play, so I had no teammate and we had to forfeit… but we’ll be back next week.