Spherx's Domain

A couple nights ago, Idiot Chittix joined me for my Monday bar trivia outing. I was already downtown when IC called me up asking if he could hang out since he was bored of masturbating into Quiphen’s socks. I, reluctantly invited him to join me as long as he was willing to meet me downtown without me having to pick him up. While I waited for him to get to me, I did some shopping at a nearby Office Depot to pass the time.

About an hour later, IC arrived and rather than drive my DeLorean to the bar nearby, I decided to leave it parked in the Office Depot lot for the few short hours we were gone. Afterall, why not conserve gas?

After we lost bad at trivia, we came back to the lot, around 9:30 pm, to discover my DeLorean was GONE! My initial thought was that the car was stolen but after a few minutes I considered the possibility it had been towed.

“If it was towed, there should be a sign with a number to call.” IC smartly suggested… and then went back to combing the fecal crust out of his fur.

I searched for a while and eventually found a tiny sign posted far from where I parked my car that had a tow company’s phone number on it. In addition to the number was the statement that “all unauthorized vehicles will be towed!” Yet there were no hours or clarification about what constitutes an unauthorized vehicle.

I called the number and found out I had been towed and not carjacked (although I’d argue, in a way, my car had still been stolen). The tow-company was in possession of my vehicle and required me to pay them money to get it back. I was welcome to pick it up in Commerce City after-hours as long as I paid additional fees which they couldn’t specify (would make-up later) at that moment.

I wasn’t about to let these pole-smokers mishandle my precious car any longer so we jumped on a northbound bus and headed to Commerce City. After the hour-plus ride, we walked the rest of the way through an industrial park to a junkyard filled with cars. Through the chain-link fence I spotted my car but there was no attendant to open the gate. I called the company back informing them I’d arrived to pick up my car but since no one was regularly there after-hours, they had to send someone out to help me.

While we waited, I cursed profusely and IC peed on the gate’s lock thinking that would somehow open it. Mid-pee, a huge rottweiler lunged at the fence and nearly bit his wiener clean off!

After another hour passed, a tow truck finally arrived with the guy who could open the gate. He explained to me why I was going to pay $400 to get my car back. My bill included the standard towing fees as well as a grossly inflated after-hours fee. The chastizing continued with an explanation of the tow company’s right to remove any cars at any time without cause. Technically, they could have even towed my car during business hours while I was in the store if they wanted to. The Office Depot lot was part of a private property and the property owner saw fit to remove my car IMMEDIATELY after Office Depot closed its doors. Nevermind the other businesses nearby that were still open and serving customers…

So that’s how this retail pad wants to treat it’s customers? Come on down and do some shopping, give us your money and then GET THE FUCK OUT!  The only reason that property exists is to provide space for retailers to sell their wares to customers. Yet this property owner is punishing the customers, and additionally punishing the retailers who lease his/her space, because I am now deterred from shopping at that complex ever again as long as I can be towed for whatever reason!

There’s not much I can do to rectify this $400 injustice except inform the world to be wary of where you leave your car. Even if your intentions aren’t delinquent, these assholes will find you and destroy you. I’ve included a picture of this parking lot above so future generations won’t suffer a similar fate and maybe I’ll get my $400 back by deterring business from that property.

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………..

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.

I’d like to take a moment to address the world and inform street racers that NOBODY thinks you or your car is cool. You may feel like a badass screaming down Sante Fe Drive  at 2 am with your engine that sounds like a lawnmower and the tail-fin you welded together in shop class, but in reality, people are laughing at you. They think you are a pathetic joke. They see your neon yellow, tricked out Lancer and think, “Now there’s a little bitch looking for attention. Fast and the Furious are his favorite movies. He wasted a whole bunch of his parents’ money by pouring it into fixing up his car so he could attract shallow superskanks  who are willing to fuck him in his dumb rice-burner – despite his tiny dick.”

That’s right! That’s what people are actually thinking about you. And whenever you pull up next to me and immediately start eye-ing me I worry, “Oh no. This kid wants to rape me.” But then I’m relieved when you speed off the line, neck and neck with your douchebag racing bretheren as though you’re hugging each other with your gay cars and trying to feel safe in one anothers’ arms.

Once you come to terms with the fact that your life and car are not special, we can finally progress as a society.

It was the best of times it was the worst of times.

Back on our home planet I was destined to be a professional athlete.  I excelled at rockelby.  Our national game.  It is very similar to your games of football, basketball, and auto racing combined.  In fact there was a movie that was very similar to this game called “Rollerball”, only less gay.  I was captain of the team in high school.  Went on to college and became a star.  I was named to the All-Quirx squad for the Quirx  Rockelby Association of Colleges, or QRAC, 5 times.  After a stellar 7 year career, and graduating with a double major in Awesomeness (that really is a degree)  and Chittix Literature (I read both books), I was all set for the draft.  I was taken 9th overall pick in the Rockelby Draft by the Raminskis Flying Nutrons of the Quirx Rockelby Association of Professionals, or QRAP.

The Flying Nutrons were suddenly a favorite to win the Glycern Platter that year, which we came close to doing, losing in the playoffs.  I narrowly lost the Rookie of the Year award to Chalep, the first pick in the draft, who played for the champion Terrasoda Invigatrons.  After an off-season plagued by bad press where I got 3 quirx teenagers pregnant, beat up 6 photographers, and pissed on a lawyer who tried to pee on me, year two started.  We ran away with the championship and I took home the Most Valuable Quirx award.  After another off season of issues with my attitude, and another VUI (virlacting under the influence) I was released from my contract.  Nobody would touch me.  I was the Terrell Owens of Rockelby.

Soon after, the dreaded chittix bombing of the Hackanian University occurred.  Causing the loss of 956 quirx citizens.  Flushed with anger and rage at those dumbass chitti, I enlisted in Quirxfleet.

My military career prospered.  I ran up the ladder quicker then Paris Hilton on a 40 year old cock.  I trained for the regular fleet, the special fleet, the very special fleet, the black fleet, the gray fleet, you name it, I trained for it.  But all this training did nothing for me.  I wanted action.

I demanded action, so the command gave me a super secret quadruple awesome mission, or SSQAM.  On this SSQAM, I was ordered to follow another agent to apprehend a criminal they called Spherx.  But first, I was ordered to take out this chittix lawyer who was causing problems within the quirx justice system.  I made up some awesome story about his mother dying and that I was his brother.  I got a great disguise going and he bought the whole thing.  As our conversation went along, I discovered that he was a total dick.  So I cracked him with my lucky rockelby stick.  I figured he was down for the count.  Then he woke back up.  So I hit him again.  Figured he be down for sure this time.

With part one accomplished, I just had to find this chick who was supposed to do her end of the bargain.  I finally caught wind of this Cora chick and her bounty Spherx after about a month.  I caught up with them at the spaceship that Spherx had hijacked.  In the passenger compartment I spied a quirx who I remember had previously been arrested for illicit chittix-on-quirx porn, a felony on our planet.  Not sure why he was there, but I knocked him out with a sleep dart.  Once on-board, I passed what looked like a lab and felt a presence I had not felt in a long time.  But this was not part of my mission.

I stowed away in the air ducts as the ship took off.   After we were airborne, I hid in the air duct while I waited for my next move, watching movement after movement of these strange travelers.  This included the guy who I sleep darted, Spherx, and a massive quirx who was the cook aboard this craft of adventure.  The only place that I could not see from the air duct was inside the “lab” of the ship.  I was strangely curious why this ship had a “lab” in the first place.  Suddenly, from the back, a furry smelly ball emerged.  It was that fucking lawyer.  I couldn’t believe that stupid fuck survived.  As he wandered around that stupid bitch Cora entered from the air lock in her spacesuit.  She had “finally” caught up with the rest of us.  She approached the lawyer from behind and startled him I think because he ripped one that made me quiver from where I was.  She completely passed out.  Spherx then came down and dragged Cora away.  Now I was getting nervous.  She hadn’t done her job.

I waited for my orders living in the air duct on whatever I could find for over 2 weeks.  I watched as the idiot chittix lawyer met up with the porn guy who I had knocked out with a dart earlier.  They had an interesting encounter that involved the porn guy slipping in vomit of the idiot lawyer and hitting his head, which I think did some damage.  I heard the shouting matches from Cora and Spherx as their little charade continued into the days and nights.  It was like they were fucking married.

Finally my orders came.  I was charged with bringing Spherx in.  I emerged from the air duct with guns drawn.  I confronted Spherx and the little fucker was a wicked fast draw.  We blasted away on the bridge of the ship causing who knows how much damage.  As we fought into the night, I heard a strange noise from behind me.  I turned to see a strange little thing.  He was wearing a helmet and standing over the body of the IC lawyer.  At that moment a large figure emerged from the shadows.  It was the blasted cook!  How the hell did he get here?  No way he could sneak up on me.  He’s a damn planet!  He charged at me with the speed of a rhinoceros.  I used my superior athletic ability and dodged and watched as he went barreling into Spherx.  I grabbed my lucky rockelby bat and cracked that fucking lawyer over the head again.  He HAS to be down for the count now!  I felt good.  I gave a little celebration.  After yelling “Home Run” I turned just in time to see that the cook and Spherx had banded against me.  As they charged me again, I dodged easily.  But they kept coming, and I kept dodging.  As I cracked the cook over the head with my rockelby bat, Spherx and I squared off.  But we never got the chance to throw any punches.  At that moment, the ship we were in crashed into a spacecraft.  If memory serves me correctly, it said something like MSNBC on the side of it.  As our hull was breached Spherx and I ran to the controls only to find with horror that our firefight had blown most of the control panels to pieces, leaving none operational.  Spherx and I strapped ourselves in and tried to control the ship, but it was to no avail.

The impact of our crash was seen for 80 miles.

We landed somewhere near Tagish Lake in what you call British Columbia Canada.  The date according to your newspapers was January 18th, 2000.

After rounding up all of the survivors of the crash and the one casualty, and got out of there.  We walked in the forests all the way to the border of what is called “America”.  Since no one was guarding it, we went across.

We’ve been here ever since.  For the most part we all get along now.  For the most part…..

Okay, some of you might be wondering: what’s taking so long getting this site back up?

Relax. This is uncharted territory we’re entering. I’m giving this update so that YOU know, we’re still here and not about to start another 4 year vacation!

Hang in there! There’s more to come. Maybe for now, you enjoy the NebCast podcast we added to the bottom right? It’s by our sponsors, the talented Nebulus Visions. Maybe you enjoy and get off my balls?

Maybe a few of you are wondering: whatever happened to the Spherx’s Domain cartoon show?

Well, unfortunately it never materialized. That’s not to say it won’t ever happen, but right now we’re focusing on other things before we make the jump to your television screen! You see, when you have a scripted show… for some reason (according to the producers) you need something called a script? And to write that script you need to have experiences from which you can draw upon to form stories. So, for the time being, we here at the Domain are going to live life a little more before we beam our sordid tales across your primitive Earth satellites.

1080p high definition? Puhleeze! Call me when you make the transition to holograms…

Can you believe our last addition to the site was way back in 2006!?! Such a travesty. Oh well, hopefully this new layout will rectify (Idiot Chittix giggles at the word rectify) our neglect of such a special place on the web.