I'm Mr. Pants and I'm coming to get ya.

My stomach just talked to me, and I don't mean it grumbled because I'm hungry it talked. I wasn't expecting it, so I have no idea what it said but I swear to god it vibrated along with a distinctive high pitch voice.

Straight to Video

So the last few days have been...interesting. I was in the utmost of quagmires due to me having to reapply for the RA position against 14 other hopefuls who want to steal my job, not to mention lady problems. Mainly the fact I fuck up a lot and that signs are damn hard to read. Oh, and money is fucking hard to hold onto when you only make about $260 a paycheck.

I hear Tim on the racist issue. The other day at work, a fat black woman came up to me and asked me to remove an ink tag from another store. I jokingly said "I'll just trust you didn't steal these," in a non-threatening manner. Then she pulls the fuckin' race card and says, "Did you ask me that because I'm black? You're a racist biggot(sic)!" then proceeds to get huffy-huffy hippo on me. And then the next day, a Mexican (probably illegal) asked me if I hable the espano. I told him no and that I could get a Spanish-Speaking Associate, to which he replies in heathen spanish: "click-click bla bla GRINGO". Emphasis on gringo, meaning I was some sort of dumb or racist white folk.

Fuck that. I hate people equally. Why don't people realize this? Probably cuz they're in a category of a sterotype that is easy to label.

BTW: Happy Exiting-You- Mommy's-Fuckhole, Tim!!!

Happy Birthday all you Dicks!!!

For your birthday I give you alcoholic cake and MILF ANGEL!

Happy Birthday, Fucknut ~or~ On the Road. Again.

Hey Nick.
Happy Birthday.


Oh, and for the information of everyone else; I've moved again.
My asshat of a roomie drove the lot of us from our beloved hovel and I am once again...no longer where I was.

More later. Maybe.
I don't feel like ranting right now.

More fun with minority stereotypes

If yesterday's post made you wonder, is Tim a raging racist? Did he make up this story about overweight, fashion-impaired, socially inept and manipulative minority women?, then today's story will put you right over the edge into suing me with the help of the NAACP. But since Dave mentioned in the sidebar that even with my new phone I won't answer, here's one reason--

Shortly after I picked up this new number...which it has just occurred to me I never listed here--I started getting calls from a number I didn't recognize. I was never around, and by the time I started being around, I'd missed 7 or 8, and I was waiting to see if someone would leave a message...and finally they left a message. It was maybe four or five guys, alternately laughing uproariously and yelling furiously, with the main idea being: we saw you beating up that girl at the airport, and who did I think I was? Then the main guy said, "When I find you, I am gonna make you suck my dick."

They called me nigga a lot, which makes me think, they probably think my number is someone else's. BUT: they also called me Tim.

Ive tried posting this for Nick's birthday 409 times but no luck. I tried Myspacing him, too, but alas I gave up.

Happy birthday you son-of-a-bitch.

All dreadful with determination

This is our last week in the house on Grand, and with every day that passes I become more hermitlike. At least, online--like today, I noticed about 400 myspace messages I hadn't seen, and I haven't been here in weeks, and I'm lazy with emails.

Sigh.

Moving out of a house is . . . to moving out of an apartment, as a 400 pound grandma is to a only-slightly-unattractive 25 year-old woman. We've got crap stacked up so thick that it's like hop scotch to get to the living room. My room downstairs is now void of furniture and strewn with cds, notebooks, NES games, clothes, shoes, paints, and an entire graveyard worth of dead slugs and spiders and other insects.

Speaking of graveyards: virtual cake for nick's birthday: chocolate base, green and brown frosting to simulate the ground, hershey bars carved and inscribed like tombstones, and plastic zombie figurines. Hot? Yes.

The reason I'm posting: check out this weird afternoon I had. Had to hit two libraries with returns, AND hit the courthouse to renew my crappy, crappy car's registration. After library 1, I was cruising one of town's more economically depressed sections. At one intersection, there were a pair of obese thirtiesish minority women in mumus lying in an apartment complex front yard. After the stop sign, I rolled through and one of the women jogged toward my car, body bouncing and face all dreadful with determination. She slapped the side of my car and then, after I was maybe twenty feet away, screamed something like

"Hey! Get back here right now!"

Then I thought she said something about heart attack, so I stopped and popped my head out the window.

She yelled, "You almost hit me! Now you owe us a ride!"

I stared.

"We're goin to Arlington! Come back here."

"Where are you going?"

"We wanna go down to Arlington! You give us a ride!"

"Okay!" I said. Then I drove drove drove away.

More Beer induced dreams story time

Well I'm going to have to drink more Tucher because this shit makes me dream like a mofo. This time around I was on a visit to Albia. All I had was my old bicycle to ride around on. And then I was in the Pamida parking lot and some dude came up and started talking to me. I asked who he was and he said he was Kenny. I said no fucking way. So we end up going to the squid cave (Kenny's basement) and there is the real Kenny who tells me he hired a stand in while he secretly went to medical school because he didn't want anyone to know he won the lottery and was filthy rich. He then paid me off to pretend the fake Kenny was the real Kenny and that was the end of that.

Happy Birthday Nick!!!

Its time for beer induced dream story time

So I had this fucked up dream after a few Tuchers (imported German beer) that was kind of interesting if it was made into a short film. It starts off with a high school senior trip to New York. Only when the bus gets there, the hotel is really crappy and in a crappy part of town. But wait there's more. So myself and two friends (indream they are played by an older Mark-Paul Gosselaar for Saved by the Bell fame and a guy I went to Full Sail with) have spotted a liquor store the next block over. So we sneak over and the shop has a weird 60s candy shop feel. So Mark_Paul suggest we do shots and I proceed to purchase the ingredients for something called melon balls. (Now I've never had this but I do know it exist) I ran out of money and head across the street to pawn something. When I get back Mark-Paul is wasted. Turns out he drank the contents of one of the Pint Sized bottles and now we can't make the intended shots. It cost $17.30. So I'm smacking around Mark-Paul trying to get $17.30 from him because now I'm broke. He is drunkenly resistant. So we head back to the flop house hotel. And get this, in the room next to ours is Jesus and Santa Claus. They are going at it like gay rabbits. So I bust down the door and there they are on the bed (They looked like Robot Chicken toy style characters.) So I kick Jesus off Santa and start to slap the shit out of Santa. Jesus is all like What the Fuck? So I yell at Jesus to go next door and get my $17.30 from Mark-Paul or I start fucking up Santa's face. Jesus leaves and I say something to Santa and have a wicked smile on my face. This is were the dogs wake me up to go out side so the end is all kind of fuzzy. Well there it is. Anyone want to polish this turd and slap together some Flash animation, be my guest.

Yes, Johnny Quest, I'm a sellout

I went to Warped Tour Sunday. It was amazzor. Mostly cuz I mosh pitted and saw bands such as Less Than Jake, Thursday, Gatsby's American Dream, Rise Against, Motion City Soundtrack, and Bouncing Souls (as well as several indy crap bands).

The fact, too, that I didn't pay for my ticket should piss you off evenmoreso. And it pisses me off that a bottle of water costed $3, and that Denver doesn't have a bottle deposit when bottles were strewn about should make the hobos cry.

I am the Pirate King! And it is, it is a glorious thing to be a pirate king.

Things I have discovered this past week.
Part I article IV series VIII sub-section II:

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest has brought enlightenment upon me.
In my viewing of the movie (repeatedly) I have discovered that my life is reallybloodyfucking boring.

So.
I'm going to sell all I own, buy a small yacht, outfit it with lots of big guns and sail around blowing stuff up. For starters.
Then, I need to make friends with creepy voodoo priests and aquire a pet sea monster at some point. Immortality would help, too.

I'll be the Dread Pirate Mel.
People will speak this rediculous nom de guerre in hushed tones as they cross themselves in typical superstitious Catholic peasant style as they mumble to each other in Romanian (because superstitous peasants speak Romanian, now.)


And now it's just the rum talking, so I'll stop.
May the wind be ever in your sails, and may the floor rise to meet you.
Arrrrrgh.

About damn time!!!

Comes out Tuesday!!!

It's my time

It's kind of crazy when you realize that you've only got one semester left of college. For a long time, I've been trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do with myself, and now I know.

I joined the Navy.

I know that a lot of you have qualms with the government and the way it works, and have issues with the military and the way it works. But, this was my decision, and to be completely honest with you, I'm really excited about it.

My last post was about me going to DSM, and that I'd be up there for a couple days. I was up there taking tests and seeing if I qualified for the job that I wanted. Not only did I qualify, I exceeded the standards that I needed to. (And scored over twice the national average on one of the tests) If any of you are curious as to what I'm going to do, here's how the cookie is going to crumble.

I am going to be a translator/interpreter when I leave. To do this, I had to take a test called the Defense Language Aptitude Battery, which only 33% of people even pass. You've got to have certain scores to qualify for certain languages which are categorized by difficulty, the lowest being French and Spanish, and the hardest (Category IV) being Arabic, Korean, Chinese, and Japanese. You need to have at least 100 for those, and I got 102. I have also been accepted into the Defense Language Institute, which is the most prestigious language institution in the entire country. It's very competitive and difficult to get in, and I've been promised a spot there in writing. Not only that, but I've also been guaranteed a $10,000 sign-on bonus, and going in as an advanced rank. On top of that, I will also become an officer in as soon as I possibly can.

And like I said, I know that some of you have problems with the way our government and military are run. And I'm sure with my high test scores and language ability, I will most likely be learning Arabic or Korean or something of that sort. However, I'm going to have so many more opportunities after this, I can only imagine.
But most importantly, I am going to be serving my country.
Serving you.
I'll be putting on a uniform and working for something that I believe in.
So, yeah...That's about it. I just wanted to share that with all of you, and I'd really like to know what you guys think of this. Thanks and much love, always.

Edit: I forgot to include that my job as a translator/interpreter requires me to have top-secret clearance from the CIA/FBI/etc as well. So, it's a pretty important thing that I'm going to do.

If Rommy's and Ryan's baby batter ever came together, this would spawn.

Dave?

Success!

I have conquered getNextHighestDepth! Tremble! Tremble! 

It was only a matter of time

Hobowars

Bloop

Awesome

Back in my day...

...our role models were these guys. Where have all the good guys gone?

All we need now is a three headed monkey

Not a slight on the Pirates movies, and I've seen others rant about this as well... But has anyone else been having flashbacks to the Monkey Island games at all?

Discuss.

Wait...

I love 4chan

Why don't slugs leap to their doom?

Pull the trigger.

You’ve been talking about it for a long time now, why don’t you just do it? Do you not know how?

Let me give you a walkthrough.

First, you load the gun. You’ll probably only need one bullet. You might as well use the expensive bullets because, well, it isn’t going to matter much afterwards, is it?

Pull back the slide, loading a cartridge into the chamber.

Now, stick the gun in your mouth. (Barrel first!)

Cock back the hammer so it’ll take less effort to pull the trigger.

Now pull the fucking trigger.

What? Oh, I forgot to tell you to take the safety off.

Take the safety off.

Now squeeze the little trigger.

Oh wait! Hold on, you shouldn’t do that yet!

We forgot to put the garbage bags down. You don’t want your grieving friends and loved ones cleaning bits of your cerebellum from the walls, do you?

Okay, I think that’s pretty much everything. Feel free to pull that trigger whenever. There’s nothing holding you back, nothing stopping you. Nothing between you and the Great Hereafter. Of course, according to most faiths, the Great Hereafter for you will likely be eternal torment or reincarnation as a slug. Don’t despair though! The Japanese are behind you 100%.

Life as a slug would be better than the life you’ve created for yourself here on earth anyway, wouldn’t it? You’ve given yourself nothing to live for, right? Luckily for you, a slug’s purpose in life is already defined for it. It eats leaves and reproduces to make more slugs!

What’s that? You didn’t create this life for yourself? It isn’t your fault? Life was unfair to you? Someone else is to blame? You didn’t do it?

Oh yes you did.

There are no victims, my friend. There are no poor unlucky souls. There are only two things:

Possibilities and justice.

Possibilities: The possibility of a better life for you exists. It is up to you to turn that possibility into reality. You and you alone. It will be a product of your imagination, your determination and your focus.

Justice: Your poor choices will come back to haunt you.

These are the tools you have to work with. You can go make something with them.

Or you can pull the trigger and just give up.

We need Ben Franklin...alive

First off: Dave Paxton ain't given us any police reports. We aint got shit. So it might be a big "Fuck You, Albia Restoration Days!" from the Class of 2000 Insert-Lame-Title starring Tim Dicks, Andy Judge, Ryan McDumbass, Dave Wells, and Justin "Moist Deluxe" Gilespy, and any other Albia High School Alumni they can hornswaggle onto stage.

By the way, I purposely mispelled Amish's last name, cuz the fucking Albia Typo is well...an abortion clinic for awesome names that pumps out aborted names. Wait...woah. I just gave myself a wtf on that one.

ANYWAY: we need a time machine. Why? Whenever any of us do something that is completely out of character or has no feasable way of working, we need to go back to the colonial days and hire Ben Franklin to stop us and say "Seriously, stop." For example: Dave might or might not be getting signals from a person of the female persuasion. Ben Franklin needs to appear in his Lighting-Powered Indoor-Stove Robot Suit (with bi-focal laser eyes) and tell me "Seriously: stop. Now."

And I so totally would! Why? Well no fucking duh here: he's Benjamin fuckin' Franklin, and he knows his shit, especially when it is harolding an ending to a situation.

ALSO: CNTL-F (or apple-f for you sailors and faggots who use Macs) and type in "Fuck" and count how many times the blog uses that magic word. You will be amazzorred.

Happy Birthday Amish!!!

If by candy, you mean ancient evil, then yes. I told you not to put it in your mouth.

You go. You watch Screw On Head. You laugh your ass off. You feel like someone has an ungloved hand in the squishy grey matter soup that is tim and dave's minds.

Sci Fi Pulse and Screw On Head

Fused with Corn -:-OR-:- Lady Luck, you are a hooker

I just got a restricted call on my cell, with someone asking for "Avi." So I said, I just got this number. And he said, well, this is the number Avi gave us...he entered a drawing with TravelAmerica, and this number was drawn. And I was like, Well, good luck finding him. And the guy was like, well, do YOU want the prize?

And I thought, this is probably a scam or a telemarketing thing. So I said, no thanks, and good luck.

And then I did a google search, and found that the Las Vegas Review Journal held a drawing today for a TravelAmerica cruise of a lifetime, with free passes and all that.

So what if it was legit? I blew it! Agh!

Oh well.

Guess whose birthday is tomorrow?

This is your hint:



I have been away from the blog so long . . . there are one million updates. Here is a new Tim update: I have a new phone number. The number involves '314,' but that's all I've memorized so far.

What are the differences between who's and whose?

George W Bush Has One Weakness...

Crying Babies!

Every man should own at least one pair of these or How I remember Francisco

A power tie is not the only tool in your arsenal for business. You also need a pair of power underwear, something that says look at my junk and fear my mighty business prowess, and I will own you and turn you out like my bitch on wall street. Or to close that deal on first date because the ladies will bow to the almighty sculptured pouch.

Budweiser finally found a good ad team

Drivers in Houston this week were treated to a sight that inspired reverence, awe and thirst.

It's just...so what I would say.

Ann Coulter has fucked-up man hands (Popping thumb knuckle & all)

Look at that hand! It's morbidly huge! Maybe they are raptor claws. Just look at those freaky lengthy filanges! She could easily reach into a snack machine and grab free bags of Funions and ancient gum.

TIMBOT Metal Gear Model

I know this isn't Tim but damn if it don't give you some ideas for the next upgrade to the TIMBOT Super Sexxy Stealth Pervert v.3

Ask me about my botched circumcision!

Random picture day was the bee's knees! I especially enjoyed chainsaw-wielding Jesus (thanks Dave). The fat kid with the lunchbox and the "I fuck on the first date" t-shirt was pretty humorous, but not in quite the same way as Jesus with a chainsaw. Chainsaw humor is subtle and delicate. Fat kid humor is sweaty and smells like PB&J.

I'm really disappointed that my Google image search for 'botched circumcision' yeilded no usable results. I had every intention of flaying your eyes with the horrible images of misshapen penises.

I'm just wondering how she's being suspended.

Abe Lincoln Robot

Moments that make me not want to read comics...ever...

Random Picture Day!!!

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me

Listen up:
I will be in DSM today and tomorrow, however I will not be around a computer, so if any of you are around or anything, call my cell-0 phone.

I wouldn't have to rape you if you would just put out

Piss! I finally got my internets fixed. It took damn long enough.

So thanks to everyone that let me visit when I was back. Especially Tim, who came onto me in the middle of the night and the intimate moments we shared.

Oh wait, that wasn't Tim: it was his mom.

PIRATES OF THE CARRIBBEANN (fuck spelling) IS FREAKIN SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!

Back by popular request

Be sure to hum "the 18th overture" in your head while veiwing these.

President Bush Scores Brain Training for B-Day

President Bush celebrates his 60th birthday tomorrow and Nintendo has packaged up the Commander-in-Chief a gift to celebrate the occasion. Now, will he divulge his scores?

read more | digg story

Happy Birthday America

I'm so fucking urban. So I live with the inlaws and they live in the historical district downtown. So we walk to the downtown park to watch the fireworks. I'm so fucking hip. There was two things I saw this year that would make Dave sad I don't own a cell phone with camera abilities. The first was this chicks tattoo of two rather big breasted girls in a sitting on there knees position wearing sort of a nightie type clothing, one red the other blue, with pirate accessories. One ha a bandana and the of the a pirate hate and hook. Under that was a banner that said UNITY. So I think she was a lesbian. Which just makes it that much more kick ass. The other was a bunch of guys wandering around the park area dressed as pirates. You heard me. Dressed as fucking pirates. But I think they were gay to. So minus kick ass points. All and all a good time was had by all, except there was a disturbing amount of Puerto Ricans there. I'm just saying. What the fuck. They get all the privilege of Americans but don't have to pay taxes so long as they keep there Rican status. Think about it. Voltron out.

Sorry for being retarded

Last night I let what's been going on in my life recently win. I made a piss poor decisions and I am very sorry for that. As much as I had to drink I definately should not have driven anywhere. I won't make any excuses I was weak last night and that's the bottom line. The part that makes me feel the worse about it is all the bitching I've done in the past about people drinking and driving. Again I am really sorry for being a complete douche bag and it won't happen again.

Upload the cheeseburger...up your ass

I SERIOULSY think I have a communication problem.

First off, I dont think we conveyed to Tim we wanted to do them when it was voted abouts on Sunday. Where was he? Probably with your mom. And secondly, Dan Walker will be back, so it's not this horrid Paxton Bukkake that it always is.

So to clarify on all the nonsense about the police reports here are the stipulations I gave Paxton:

-We cannot make it to any of the rehersals or Thursday's show.
-No mentioning of the blotter or our group other then "A very special Shadowcast"
-WE ARE ONLY DOING THE POLICE BLOTTER. NOTHING MORE/LESS unless it's Ryan singin' Butt Fuckin' Robots by the Carpenters. Then it's his own problem.

I also gave us a door out:
-We are finalized on performing August 1st. If anyone else besides Tim (Who I realize has obligations reguarding his girlfriend, and thats as cool as female pirates and female ninjas makin out) has other obligations, we are as Britt would say, "Outie Five Thoutie."

And if we want to say "Fuck Albia!" we can always call in a week before the Follies and cancel, stating emergencies beyond our control. Paxton is SOOOOOOOOOOO whipped by us, especially after the bebockle that was this year's Cruizin' Albia. We could possibly just shit on stage as I've planned the last 3 years.

How do I post cheeseburger videos?! THEY YEARN TO BE SEEN!

Aim for the butt

Dave just let me know that we are IN for the follies again, so if you have good police reports, put them here.

Now I must say this, despite what booing and hissing will follow: I didn't want to do them this year because I will definitely be unavailable some nights, and maybe-to-probably will be unavailable the other nights. The main thing is, I have class during the dress rehearsal and the first show. And during the second and third shows, I might be helping Sarah move into Minneapolis. She didn't coerce me, whip me, or whatever, it's just something I want to help her do, since she's my girlfriend, we've been living together for a while now, she doesn't really have anyone else aside from a 115-pound roommate, all that.

If I AM gone, someone else can wear my skin. I hear that everyone else is behind the project, so maybe there can be another reader.

If I am IN ATTENDANCE, I intend to cause the audience to tinkle in their pants. Don't yet know how we're going to do this, but that's what the comments button is for. Suggest. Probably we'll skip electricity.

Sorry. I really don't mean to be overly dramatic.

In related stage news, start learning your instruments, becuase Undead Presidents needs to start the Star-Spangled Badass tour soon.

Project Facade

A website devoted to the history of facial reconstructive surgery.

GRAPHIC!

This could be entertaining

http://phrontistery.info/clwdef.html

Lost words! Ignoring the look of the site, this could potentially entertain us for quite a while.