Tales of Flesh and Steel

Predator Press

When Jimmy Orlando smashed into Templeton at 220 miles per hour, he was unaware of the tiny robot fly entirely; for all he knew, the sports car just violently exploded and died for no apparent reason.

Pressed for time, this is how Jimmy came to stealing LOBO's precious Chick Magnet and his beloved pet Phil.


***

Templton's damage was severe. He had pierced the radiator, the engine block, and finally lodged in the exhaust system of the doomed vehicle. And for almost a month, he lie there dormant and undetected.

The car was eventually crushed into a cube, the steel melted to be recycled. But as Templeton drifted lifelessly in the smelting ore, a back-up system of self-repair programming activated; one by one, Templeton's sophisticated sensor systems blinked and popped back into operation.

The process was slow and excruciating; dramatic repairs as such would typically require he be towed into a tiny hanger to be completely disassembled by busy miniscule emergency robot triage crews ... a process that would normally take several days if done properly.

But Templeton was on his own.

Fortunately -while not quite the futuristic super-alloys from which Templeton was forged- in a fluke of Cosmic Fortune, the alloys being created were some of the finest and advanced high-test durable lightweight steel ever seen on Earth.

It was being forged into stripper poles.

... And in an even more improbable fluke of Cosmic Fortune, this stripper pole was destined for a strip club called Nipples Italy.


***

"Sir," says the First Lieutenant. "I really think you should take a look at this."

"What is it now Eric?" says RDO into the comlink. "I'm not in the mood for any more of your YouTube crap."

"No sir," says Eric. "We are starting to receive some sketchy transmissions from Templeton."

RDO scowled. "Are you sure? We haven't heard from Templeton in months."

"It's definitely him sir, Eric insists. "And I think he's found Sapphire."

"Sapphire?" smiled RDO. "My, my, my. It's been years since we've heard from her! Are Sapphire and LOBO currently enjoying the rest of their blissful existence together as planned?"

"Uh," says Eric. "Sir, I really think you should come up here and see this."

Animals Are Dumb

Predator Press

[LOBO]

"But I specifically told Thumper not to
make Predator Press his homepage!"

Census Reveals More Horses Asses Than Horses

Predator Press

[LOBO]

President George W. Bush prepares to mysteriously withdraw
a quarter from Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri Al-Maliki's ear.

Landmark 'Halliburton v. Blackwater' Suit Filed

Predator Press

[LOBO]

"As you can see by my charts and graphs, Blackwater
currently holds the marketing edge due to disproportionate
liberties only enjoyed by MicroSoft and Pepsi."

Hindsight is 50/50

Predator Press

[LOBO]

You know, when we were nominated "Worst Blog of All Time", we figured we were pretty safe.

I mean, maybe we couldn't hold onto #1 forever, but we might drift into the 'Top Ten' from time to time and give 'ole www.virusspammingchickswithdicks.com a decent run for their sticky money.

Jesse Jackson Calls for Halloween Boycott

Predator Press

[LOBO]

"Unlucky!" he says. "That is how the black cat is regarded. And how is the 'black cat' always depicted? Riding on the back of the luxurious broom of some elitist green witch."

"This is just another example of the white cat exploiting the black cat, just as he has with the Siamese and the Calico. Heck, I'll bet the white cat will breed a blue cat and a green cat so's he can exploit a purple cat, and then have completely exploited the entire cat spectrum! Catch your mice my ass."

"--Wait. What color are those mice?"

OJ Freed to Continue Search for Nicole's Killer

Predator Press

"You're freeing me to what?"

Movers and Shakers

Predator Press

[LOBO]

As previously discussed in a post named Zen, Ethan owns a small orphanage in Newark.

I manage it.

... As successful entrepreneurs, we feel it's important to give back to the community.

So when we were invited to the awards ceremony to celebrate our nomination for "Most Profitable Orphanage of the Year" we thought Oh cool, a free meal!


***

Tricking me to get there an hour before the food was served made me cranky. I mean I'm already a notable benefit to the community and enormous asset to the Nation; there's no need to drag me out to some ceremony where billionaire hot chicks can just plot and plan for me to be their "arm candy" like I'm just some piece of meat. I don't need affirmation, thank you; I get enormous satisfaction out just simply helping out those poor kids and turning out an untaxable $420,000 in annual profit.

Once inside, my ears were instantly assaulted by a live samba band in the lobby, afflicting the dense crowd of aristocrats with a horrific, offbeat stabbing sound.

--The maraca player was either drunk, or a completely ill-timed incompetent idiot.

Instantly grabbing a champaign bottle by the neck, I shatter it on a nearby marble statue and rush the stage so I can plunge the glistening, jagged edges deeply into the bastards throat. "You butcher!" I scream. You don't shake maracas, you blend maracas!"

While security held me back at first, the crowd had already turned on the inept hack; I was soon rushed up to try and rescue the performance. The lead singer tried to hand me his beastly maracas, and I almost reflexively spat on them. It was then I opened my briefcase and cried into the microphones, "Behold!"

As the lead singer's eyes adjusted to the glowing light, his jaw dropped.

I unsecured my maracas from the inside of the case.

They are hand carved from genuine elephant tusk ivory, inlaid in gold, and are filled with naturally mummified panda embryos.

... Halfway through 'Copa Cabana', members of the audience were weeping.

Steve Fosset Searchers Find 200 Other Crash Sites

Predator Press

[LOBO]

According to CNN, the search for Steve Fossett may provide clues to 200 other lost crash sites.

First let me say that in the unlikely I ever disappear in an airplane, dont fuck around: get those guys to look for me.

But at 200 people per, my calculatrons indicate that by losing a mere 117 more millionaires more we could solve the mystery of the Bermuda Triangle once and for all.

I'm recommending Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie for starters.

... Wouldn't it make for a kickass reunion episode of "The Simple Life"?

Who Knew?

Predator Press

"Well, I was surprised," says General Peter Pace. "Weren't you surprised? I was totally surprised. Who knew those ingrates would be pissed we blasted their godless sand into Freedom Dust? What a bunch of jerks!"

Tagged

Predator Press

[LOBO]

As a kid, I ground literally thousands of games of "Tag" to a standstill. Once after being designated "It", I got on a bus to O'Hare Airport and tagged a poor unsuspecting Japanese businessman boarding his flight home. He was pretty pissed, but I figure as long as I stay the hell out of Hamamatsu, I'll be fine.

My skill at Tag was surpassed only by my unrivalled savvy for Hide-and-Seek; I have never uttered the words "All-the-Outs-In-Free!". I'll bet well-concealed skeletons of children waiting for me to "find" them dot the Midwest like a map of Starbucks franchises to this day.

And I understand, trust me; millions and millions of readers everyday are faced with the Great Questions like Is there a God? and What is the Meaning of Life? and I wonder what makes LOBO tick? Who am I to deprive the masses as such? And as the first person in the history of Blogdome to have been twin-tagged, I must say up front that I will indeed rise to this superhuman task.

But only after a mammoth shitload of bitching.

Here are the rules:


1. Link to the blogger who tagged you,

2. List 8 random facts about yourself,

3. Tag 8 people, listing their names and linking to their blogs, and

4. Let them know they've been 'tagged'
by commenting on their blogs.

(Wait. Other people have blogs too?)

(... those bastards!)

***

1. Link to the blogger who tagged me.

That would be Olga, the Traveling Bra and Domestic Minx.

(Both of these sites are outrageous, well done, and guaranteed to get the unwary married guy struck from behind with a frying pan.)

2. List 8 random facts about myself.

a) I Will Destroy You at Super Mario Cart.

Period. I've had guys leave the field in a stretcher. I'll save that blue turtle shell the whole damn race if I gotta. And just as you're a mere inches from the finish line, KAPOW!!!

b) Two Years Ago the Domestic Minx Scratched 3 of the CDs I Loaned Her. Now They Skip Like Hell.

Blogging can be a cold, cruel and unjust universe sometimes. But as far as I know, that ruthless scourge upon humanity Terri Terri is still behind bars, and servin 9 consecutive life-sentences thanks to me.

I sleep like a baby knowin every day I'm doin the right thing.

4) I Have Two Eyes, Two Arms, Two Legs, and 57 Ankles.

I am paramount to Medical Science for study, and simultaneously very difficult to photograph.

It drives 'em nuts.

d) My Fave Band is the Foo Fighters.

They should all be dead by November.

9) I Have a Very Short Attention Span.

There. That's 10, right?