Honey Badger on a Burro hunt.

I am slowly morphing into a docile yet rabid honey badger with a bad perm, chaffing genetails and a skill to restring a tennis racket in 7.5 minutes. All though this may seem uncomfortable it give me the initiative to apply ointments and experiment with different lotions and citrus creams. Today I will be pursuing an Itailian burro with a Rasputan type personality and clever wit derived from watching Wood Allen Movies while crotcheting pot holders for the blind with mispelled words and euphamisms on maintain good vision health. It has been revealed to me that The female Burro of the Rasputin heard are more tastey than a hand breaded tenderloin of the midwest with potatoe wedges and Mt Dew are all in one. So when I corner this Fan of a Woody "The Asian Peidaphile Daughter lover" Allen. I shall baffle him with some quick torts from a Bad Robin Williams movie. Whilest he ponders what the hell a penis has to do with being an alien named Mork banging some slut named Pam and screaming good morning to asin pacific country side, have in common with captain my captain and Abraham lincolns painful wound. Then spear him in the head with a worn out CV Joint from a YUGO Sedan and have him on the spit, Buttered,Salted and stuffed with imitation crab meat and freezer slaw. Then sit down give thanks, and feed all my honey badger off spring. Which were made while you were sleeping and Eeyore was fondling your children and filming it for Gerry and Kids documentary on Woody Allen Ethics and proper shower Etiquette. Then KNARFLE THE GARTHOCK! HAPPY THANKS GIVING MY FREINDS AND TWISTED READERS" PS if you stuck around long enough to read this. You are either extremely bore or in need of tharzine and prozac. Get help.

Leopards and Angry Chefs

I am secretly training an Army of pigmy leapords and digruntled grill chefs from waffle house franchises in the arts of samuria archery, sword fighting and preparing fine french cooked meals for the homeless Monks of Bangladesh. The leopards are highly sensative to the smell of Cardinal fans and sweaty ball sacks soaked in vinager and honey. Though both smells are similar, there is more of a cowardly scent that wharfs from the Fans of Red Bird nation. The leopards will track and capture the fans then store them in barrells of ball sacks from nuetered ex Cub players that have been soaked in the above mentioned ingredients.

After finishing their algebra lesson and a quick reading of Chang ki Shek 's biography along with self help books on coping with lepracy and it's affects on your love life. The angry Grill chefs will spar briefly with their leopard accomplices and then set out on a quest for indigent, yet polite, dwarfs from Austria and pan flute albums by Zamfir and ELO orchestra. Then after a short reunion with the, Highly trained leopards and some poetry reading by Regis Philbin and Dollie Parton, the oddly paired aliances of leapords and chefs will embark on a mission to over throw the Civitan Clubs of Canada. Seize their radio auction rights and sell off their captives for Cutlery and fine china to feed the homelss Monks of Bangladesh along with purchases of board games for blind Nuns and excenterfold models of Hustler magazine.

Finally when the Monks are fed and have eaten the last of the fluffy, yet perfectly textured french pastries and assorted souflettes, the army of highly trained critters and chefs will set out to right all the wrongs and misdeeds of Oil Zealots and Diamond Tycoons in this world. Striking with quick and deadly force using dull arrows made of rusty metal and dipped in molasses then coated with blood from HIV test clinics in Africa and Haiti. So to make the death both painful and slow, like that of falling gas and oil prices. Then taking the diamond from the safes of these overfed under empathetic demons and insert them into the ueretha of their genetailia . Then they will enjoy peanut butter sandwiches, with crunchy style Jiff, using their samurai skills and swords to spread the jam and Peanut butter simultaeneously on unleavened bread from Witchita Kansas bakeries. All the while singing Billie don't be a hero and Tiny Bubbles. Then relax watching the movies Pretty Woman and Repo Man with Emilio Estevez. After all this hey ride in their spiderman pajamas on Schwinn Stingrays back to Indiana for kick boxing lessons and body slamming techniques from Kristy "The Intimidator" Bastine and enjoy a rice krispie treat and Dr. Pepper.

Culinary Caper Cop

As I sit here and ponder the meaning of life I wonder. Who am I and why do I always get attacked by rabid chickens with herpes that are experts with cutlery and sleep deprivation? For I am a secret agent of chaos and international culinary by products. Just last week I discovered a plot by local eateries of Pawtucket Rhode Island to corner the Lobster market and cross breed them with featherless Pelicans from Aruba.
Now you may ask yourself why would the US Govt need a spy for such matters? Probably they don't but I have an extremely large photo of Dan Quayle and Michele Obama in a foursome with Wilt Chamberlain, Butterbean the boxer, And four cases of Land O Lakes margarine, along with two Oprah Winfrey puppets holding copper plated spatulas.. So if need be I can get a govt contract for any thing I dream up and deem necessary. But back to the Lobsters and evil chickens.

I was in the New England area for some minor league baseball and noticed several children rushing into the high tide and freeing lobsters from the tidal storage boxes. All of a sudden thirteen armed fishermen, in white boots and yellow raincoats bearing corn on the cob eating utensils formed a circle around these children. The fisherman began pummeling the kids with half eaten ears of sweet corn and screaming "Stay away from the Hybrid Lobsters and my bird feeder!" I thought to myself "Is this a new way to make corn chowder and lobster bisque. Or merely a strange new way to punish children for not eating their vegetables?" Quickly I started to take note of my surroundings and noticed I was being surrounded by a group of Aborigine midgets from Guatemala. They were cleverly armed with Korean cock fighting knifes and the blades were coated in Peruvian chili powder. Thinking quickly I grabbed a paper straw and as they lunged toward me with vigor and thrust their blade at my, muscular and sweaty , torso I blew the powder from the, Sharp steely, blades into theirs eyes. Temporally blinding them so that I could have my way with their dates and small pets. After a cigarette and short nap I finished them off and returned to my mission at hand. Ridding this great country of hideous crossbred creatures and bad rap music from the early nineties.

I saw that the mission would now require an accomplice with special skills of a rare nature. So I immediately teamed up with an old acquaintance from Mesopotamia. Jericho the scuba diving spider monkey with one good eye. His skills for mind control of animals and sea creatures are surpassed by,the one and only, bastard love child from a menajuatwa involving Dr. Doolittle, Aqua Man and an estrange monkey from Scandinavia. After meeting up with Jericho we packed the necessities and headed out to thwart the fisherman and their evil accomplices in the eatery business, from creating an unholy creature for culinary purposes. I mounted my trusty flying, ninja trained, tortoise and Jericho summoned a flock of seagulls all named Johnathan from Livingston North Carolina, for his transportation. Onward we ventured with no fear of what lay ahead. Death and Herpes be damned! We will prevail and come home victorious.

There are times I feel very hypocritical for posting religous stuff. I am a very sarcastic and morally corrupt Dude. But there is some religion in my background and childhood days. I do cuss alot and make sick jokes, some racial slurs and s...exist jokes. How ever I do believe in God and Jesus and all the basics of Christianity. I do try to teach my son to be a good man and student. So if it seems odd to see a religous post on my page forgive my hypocracy and remember my Mom did drag me to many churches in the South and I, along with my brothers and Sissy, attended many Bible school summer camps. I do believe and again a little Godlyness is good for the soul and even us heathen need God. Seldom am I serious so take this and run. I think this post is kinda like the cock does crow verse and I am always afraid to deny Jesus and God. A small part of me wants my fellow man to know that I support and agree with thier belief in God. Jose' has become a devout Catholic and church going Dude and so has my Brother Fwanky, I am also glad Gary became a man of God in his final years. Just some stuff I think of from time to time. My Pop was not a devout Christian, but he read and knew the Bible very well. I learned much about history from him and my brother Gary. I miss them both on this dy and I miss my family immensley. As a military child moving through out the world they are the one constant in your life. Nieghborhood changes and new bullies evry year to defeat, nieghborhoods to navigate and schools to adapt to. I love my close friends deeply and feel so fortunate to have them. I never want to move again. But I do miss my Family.

Hey ABBY HELP ME!

Abby Doo, This is your Uncle Dave. I have seized your cousin Luke's phone and for good reasons. Yet his mother has punished me severely and with unjust cause. I am now sleeping on a cold damp floor in the basement of the front rental house. There are fleas the size of grasshoppers and I have only dirty ginger ale to drink along with half eaten slim Jim's, soaked in hot sauce, for consumption. I fear that I will not last long in this environment, yet refusal to issue Luke back his phone privileges shall cost me my life and well being. Tell Pody and your sisters I said goodbye and I love them. For it shall soon be nightfall and survival is unattainable. The three toed crickets with cyanide breath and poisonous breast milk are sure to come and secrete their toxins into my cold, crippled body. There will be no remains, as I am sure that the underground dwellers of KMart blue light shopping ghosts will dry freeze my carcass and store me in used pringles cans for rabbit feed and toenail glitter. Alas I bid farewell to this world and the sanctimony of marriage and responsible parenting. It is on to the here after I flee and hopefully there will be cheetoes, Dr Pepper and a large supply of Ramen noodles waiting for me there. That and some really cool short outfits. Bye for now and sweet dreams.

Cry for Help

Abby Blackburn! Your Aunt Joni is going to Florida and leaving me here to fend for myself. Now usually that is okay, but........ I am sure that just on the other side of the city ditch they are waiting. Yes waiting for her to leave. You ask who or what is it? Well I believe them to be a small group, seven or eight, expertly trained mythical creatures from a Dr. Suess novel. I can't see them from here, as I am laying helpless in bed and can only hear them plotting my demise in a manner to horrid to explain on FB. I only know that it involves three fish and a blue one armed with banana pudding, a paint gun armed with Molasses filled ammo balls and the severed head of three marsupials along with a toxic rendition of Ice Ice Baby performed by Mel Torme and a quartet of, slightly misguided, castrated midgets from Indonesia. My only hope is you receive this message in time. In time to conjure up a Ouija board, some used soda cans filled with acid rain and two and one half drops of blood. Blood being from an over weight wallaby with skin chaffing and a edipous complex. Take these Items to Uncle John and he will take care of the rest. I will keep them at bey with my Psychic pet ,Henry the lobster, by utilizing his unusually large claw, speckled genitalia and supersonic shrieking abilities, while you seek help. Help me Abby Wan your my only hope. Drop by and fix me some toast one day too, would Ya'?

Scott Eric's Ramblings

Scott Blackburn Cousin, you amaze me!
Reminds me of the time I was traveling across texas on a bum steer named "bum". Ol bum had the biggest set of horns this side of..well Texas. Things were going just fine til one day Ol Bum stumbled. Well, wouldn't ya k...now one of those big ol horns got stuck in the dirt. The more Ol Bum struggled the deeper that horn drove into the ground. About that time I heard a loud noise...kinda like a rattle in a barrel. And then I saw it..the biggest dadburn Rattlesnake..this side of Texas. Before I could move that Rattler up and bit Ol Bum..well..in the bum. You can imagine Ol Bums reaction.he let out a bellow louder than..you guessed it anything this side of Texas. There I stood a watchin, Ol Bum kicking and bucking and that ol Rattler a hanging on for dear life. With all the ruckus Ol Bum's Horn finally broke free like a clap of thunder. The Rattler went flying and at the same time a gusher of oil spewed as far as the eye could see into that clear Texas sky. Far as I know that Rattler still hasn't come back down. Me and Ol Bum didn't stick around to find out as we was just passin through. Sides, there was some fella called himself Getty a hollering something about pardnership and royalty. Well, that first word sounded a lot like work and the second..well, I don't abide by uppity folk, so me and Ol Bum...we just rode on.