Predator Press
[LOBO]
Writing off 50,000 gallons of blog ink on my taxes as a business expense seemed like a good idea at the time, but the decision has haunted me ever since.
Like today, for instance. It’s hard enough to write this crap … but there’s a whole logistical side to it as well; this week I spent about sixty hours –and part of my Saturday no less—at the warehouse, making sure things “tick”.
In the break room, I was peeling through a day-old newspaper and absently making small talk with one of our maintenance employees, Frank Kowalski. Frank -complete with his tattoos, shaven head, and Insane Clown Posse attire- was 'rendered' a good listener, due mostly to having broken most of his teeth over a gigantic metal stud tongue piecing.
Deceptively intelligent, he is widely regarded by me as the eyes and ears of the whole complex.
Suddenly, this handlebar-mustached old guy I’ve never seen before struts confidently in and flashes his badge.
“Are you David Curr?” he asks in a thick, foreign accent.
“I’m LOBO,” I says, trying to be cagey.
“My name is Destry Dentin,” he asks, squeezing the shit out of my hand. “I’m here from the Department of Transportation.”
“I’m sorry,” I say rather politely. “The Department of Transportation you say? I can barely understand you. Your butchery of our fine American language is terrible. What kind of accent is that?”
“It’s British.”
“Jesus, no wonder. I understand that the educational systems in those third world countries can be pretty sketchy. I’ll try to be patient, but speak slowly, and try to enunciate a little better; you're feeble grasp on the English languish is totally crap-o-rama, and my first impression of you might've been that you were a complete idiot were I not a worldly and educated dude." I slap him at the top of his arm to 'drive home' these helpful nuggets of wisdom. "This isn't China or France, pal ... in this country, we don't do gibberish.”
“Mr. Curr,” he says. “I’m here to inspect your hazardous material storage facilities.”
“Why would I keep my laundry at work?”
“I’m talking about the 50,000 gallons of flammable UN1210.”
“My what?”
“Your ink.”
“Oh!” I says. “Um, we’re out. Used it all.”
“You used 50,000 gallons?”
“Yep. We’re very industrious bloggers.”
“How did you dispose of the empty drums?”
“We, ah, gave them to our Waste Management Department, where the were disposed of in the most expensive, environmentally sound and legal recycling program we could find.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It’s amazing if you think about it. They take all that steel and grind it up and turn it into baby food for poor people or something.”
“Is that so?”
I hold up two fingers. “Scouts Honor.”
“You’re a Boy Scout?”
“Technically. If you’re still a Cub Scout when you turn seventeen, they kinda grandfather you in.”
“Well, I would certainly like to speak to this ‘Waste Management Team'.”
Frank, until then pretending not to listen, set down his issue of High Times. “What would you like to know?”
Fuck.
Saturday
Friday
The Best Policy
To: Ethan Hawly
From: The Docter
Date: 02/22/07
Re: LOBO
We regret to inform you that your employee, LOBO –aka “Lance Steelpipe” as written on his verile insurance forms—will not be able to come to work today, as he has been stricken by a fatal, incurable disease and will probably die from it within hours.
We will probably release him back to duty in March.
Maybe.
From: The Docter
Date: 02/22/07
Re: LOBO
We regret to inform you that your employee, LOBO –aka “Lance Steelpipe” as written on his verile insurance forms—will not be able to come to work today, as he has been stricken by a fatal, incurable disease and will probably die from it within hours.
We will probably release him back to duty in March.
Maybe.
Well, Duh!
Predator Press
[LOBO]
“Why is there spaghetti sauce in this ice tray?” says Ethan.
“That’s not spaghetti sauce," says me. "That’s marinara.”
“Why is there marinara sauce in this ice tray?”
“Because it came with the Cheese Sticks.”
“Okay,” says Ethan, exasperated. “Why is there Cheese Stick marinara sauce in this ice tray?”
“Because I fucked up the toaster with the Cheese Sticks, okay?”
[LOBO]
“Why is there spaghetti sauce in this ice tray?” says Ethan.
“That’s not spaghetti sauce," says me. "That’s marinara.”
“Why is there marinara sauce in this ice tray?”
“Because it came with the Cheese Sticks.”
“Okay,” says Ethan, exasperated. “Why is there Cheese Stick marinara sauce in this ice tray?”
“Because I fucked up the toaster with the Cheese Sticks, okay?”
Black Day
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Alright, while I was away negotiating this amazing deal on bulk peanut butter, some asshole broke into my house and stoled my Pet Rock Incubator.
Do you know how long I've been waiting for those things to hatch?
Look, I wasn't neglecting them; I just thought maybe diamonds took an extra-long time! Keep the Incubator, but please, whoever you are, return the diamonds; I'm sure they are worthless to you. But they could 'bust loose' any second!
[*sigh*]
Who am I kidding?
… the fucking thing is probably on eBay already.
[LOBO]
Alright, while I was away negotiating this amazing deal on bulk peanut butter, some asshole broke into my house and stoled my Pet Rock Incubator.
Do you know how long I've been waiting for those things to hatch?
Look, I wasn't neglecting them; I just thought maybe diamonds took an extra-long time! Keep the Incubator, but please, whoever you are, return the diamonds; I'm sure they are worthless to you. But they could 'bust loose' any second!
[*sigh*]
Who am I kidding?
… the fucking thing is probably on eBay already.
Thursday
Unpopular Occupation Rattles US Morale
Predator Press
Soldiers from all branches of US military shave heads in symbolic
gesture of solidarity to raise awareness of Lobonian cable plight
gesture of solidarity to raise awareness of Lobonian cable plight
Wednesday
Sneakery
Predator PressDistressed by civil unrest and cable atrocities in Lobonia Illinois, Tony Blair withdraws troops from someplace
All-night 'rave' renders Parliament blissfully unaware
Tuesday
Thaw
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Despite the unjust, immoral, lopsided, asymmetrical offensives the US wreaked permanently upon our local economy, tourism and industrial might by shutting off our cable, we bravely carry on under our new oppressors.
But Phil is sick.
I knew something was wrong; he cranks out kittens like four times a year! But the vet just called with his test results, and he has “elevated kidney levels” and requires more tests.
I think it’s a little ironic that of everyone in this house --and their respective diets and lifestyles-- the cat is cracking up.
[LOBO]
Despite the unjust, immoral, lopsided, asymmetrical offensives the US wreaked permanently upon our local economy, tourism and industrial might by shutting off our cable, we bravely carry on under our new oppressors.
But Phil is sick.
I knew something was wrong; he cranks out kittens like four times a year! But the vet just called with his test results, and he has “elevated kidney levels” and requires more tests.
I think it’s a little ironic that of everyone in this house --and their respective diets and lifestyles-- the cat is cracking up.
Monday
LOBONIA SURRENDERS; SUES FOR PEACE
Predator Press
Shortest Insurrection in US History
”The sooner we get our Reparations, the sooner we can rebuild,” says Lobonain Chancellor. "Now will you please turn my cable back on?"
Shortest Insurrection in US History
”The sooner we get our Reparations, the sooner we can rebuild,” says Lobonain Chancellor. "Now will you please turn my cable back on?"
Predator Press Reviews: Canadian Bacon
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Well, the author of such books as Bowling For Columbine and Fahrenheit 911 has gone and scared the shit out of me again with his latest documentary Canadian Bacon, starring critically acclaimed Rip Torn and a lot of other really talented actors.
In this movie, Roger Moore unveils footage of Americans concocting a phony threat from another country in order to secure political stability and fulfill the agenda of a greedy profiteer that personally benefits from America’s participation in a war.
--God, if I would’ve written it as a science fiction story you wouldn’t have believed it.
Well, needless to say, I panicked and seceded from the United States.
No, I’m serious. I have proudly hoisted the new flag of glorious Sovereign LOBONIA.
It's a little too 'friendly' as far as I'm concerned, but I want to encourage the local "surf and sand" lifestyle, as well as robust trade, supermodel tourism, and hearty taxation.
Rather 'geographically inconvenient' for the Capitalist pig-dogs, LOBONIA is smack in the middle of Illinois, and surrounded on all borders by entire suburbs of lousy hostiles and bewildered, asshole neighbors that have absolutely zero tolerance for the seemingly-alien culture and strange mores of my proud people.
Because of this, I've “liberated” some traffic barricades, and have placed them right where you would turn onto my street: none of you crazy foreigners and illegal aliens and immigrants are allowed beyond my new International Passport Checkpoint of Doom without being pelted by a massive arsenal of state-of-the-art, “fire and forget” UN approved non-allergenic water balloons.
... Except the mailman. I didn’t get the water bill last month, and I’m worried that it's going to get shut off.
The mailman is crucial to my Defense Program.
[LOBO]
Well, the author of such books as Bowling For Columbine and Fahrenheit 911 has gone and scared the shit out of me again with his latest documentary Canadian Bacon, starring critically acclaimed Rip Torn and a lot of other really talented actors.In this movie, Roger Moore unveils footage of Americans concocting a phony threat from another country in order to secure political stability and fulfill the agenda of a greedy profiteer that personally benefits from America’s participation in a war.
--God, if I would’ve written it as a science fiction story you wouldn’t have believed it.
Well, needless to say, I panicked and seceded from the United States.
No, I’m serious. I have proudly hoisted the new flag of glorious Sovereign LOBONIA.It's a little too 'friendly' as far as I'm concerned, but I want to encourage the local "surf and sand" lifestyle, as well as robust trade, supermodel tourism, and hearty taxation.
Rather 'geographically inconvenient' for the Capitalist pig-dogs, LOBONIA is smack in the middle of Illinois, and surrounded on all borders by entire suburbs of lousy hostiles and bewildered, asshole neighbors that have absolutely zero tolerance for the seemingly-alien culture and strange mores of my proud people.
Because of this, I've “liberated” some traffic barricades, and have placed them right where you would turn onto my street: none of you crazy foreigners and illegal aliens and immigrants are allowed beyond my new International Passport Checkpoint of Doom without being pelted by a massive arsenal of state-of-the-art, “fire and forget” UN approved non-allergenic water balloons.
... Except the mailman. I didn’t get the water bill last month, and I’m worried that it's going to get shut off.
The mailman is crucial to my Defense Program.
Sunday
Oh Yes I Did
Predator Press
[LOBO]
You know how I was wearing fake weights so I could hit on sensitive and vulnerable chicks with low self-esteem at Weight Watchers meetings?
Well, then I did something kinda reprehensible: I claimed to have invented the Fat-Burning Twinkie, and started to sell them at $4 a pop there.
Now, a $2 box of Twinkies has, well, a lot of goddamn Twinkies in it. I figure I can make maybe 5-6% on this deal, right?
At first, Weight Watchers Corporate didn’t notice anything. I --having dropped the weights-- had lost about 55 pounds while everyone else gained two or three. The net result was pretty much zero.
Ultimately, it was an IRS guy that busted me out. He had a shoebox full of checks from Weight Watchers “known associates” --currently embroiled in a lawsuit against Weight Watchers-- totaling $26,420, all made out to “cash”, and all signed by me.
Weight Watchers Corporate is just plain jealous.
[LOBO]
You know how I was wearing fake weights so I could hit on sensitive and vulnerable chicks with low self-esteem at Weight Watchers meetings?
Well, then I did something kinda reprehensible: I claimed to have invented the Fat-Burning Twinkie, and started to sell them at $4 a pop there.
Now, a $2 box of Twinkies has, well, a lot of goddamn Twinkies in it. I figure I can make maybe 5-6% on this deal, right?
At first, Weight Watchers Corporate didn’t notice anything. I --having dropped the weights-- had lost about 55 pounds while everyone else gained two or three. The net result was pretty much zero.
Ultimately, it was an IRS guy that busted me out. He had a shoebox full of checks from Weight Watchers “known associates” --currently embroiled in a lawsuit against Weight Watchers-- totaling $26,420, all made out to “cash”, and all signed by me.
Weight Watchers Corporate is just plain jealous.
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