Headless Chick Haunts Mountain During Blizzards

Predator Press

[LOBO]

As you know, I neither read, make up, or verify anything.

But it's all right there plain as day on Sarcasm Abounds ...

Livin Large

Predator Press

[LOBO]

So here I am at Qualcomm Stadium with the rest of the Californian evacuees, getting a massage and blogging after my yoga lessons.

Honestly, I don't know what those Katrina people were complaining about; this is the best vacation I've ever had.

For dinner, I had a 24oz brick of "Evacuee Cheese", and it was splendid.

The tan woman distributing the rescue food was obviously distressed.

"Wouldn't you like some lobster tail?" she asks, concerned. "Or some baked Alaska?"

"No thanks," I says, grabbing some eating utensils. "But I'll take a 2-liter bottle of Mountain Dew if you've got one."

"Aren't you worried about your cholesterol?" she persists.

"Why?" I says, looking around nervously at the crowded scene. "Are these infidels trying to steal it?"

"Infidels?" she asks, handing me a 2-liter bottle of Mountain Dew.

"Well, that's the only explanation isn't it? I mean God clearly hates you people." While taking a deep swig, I eye the inside of the cap. "Earthquakes, fire tornados, floods, tsunamis. Take the hint already, and stop hanging around here trying to steal cholesterol!"

"No," she clarifies, smiling politely. "I mean high cholesterol can lead to heart attacks."

"My heart is completely incapable of any attack whatsoever," I assure her. "I doubt it could even successfully lobby for trade tariffs. Now this here cap says I won a 'free 2-liter Mountian Dew'. Will you honor it?"

She nods. "But you should get some exercise and eat better."

"It gets cold out here at night. I kinda like that hot, burning sensation I get as the blood squirts though." A portable radio is blaring some fat sounds I like. "Who is that?"

"That's Given Up by Linkin Park," she says, handing me another 2-liter bottle of Mountain Dew. "They've been one of the biggest bands in the United States for almost five years. You've never heard of them?"

"No," I says.

"Not very hip, are you?"

"Maybe I'm too hip to notice," I retort.

"Are you even a citizen?" she asks.

"What?"

"Hablo un poco español; ¿comprende usted?"

"How dare speak to me in 'Tongues', you common Babylonian whore?" I demand, making a Cross symbol with my plastic knife and spork.

"Security!" she cries. "Security!"

"So where's your fancy pagan 'français parlez' now?" I demand.

God, I don't understand why these things continue to happen to me ...

FEMA Isn't Racist, Just Lazy

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Ethan says, "Go cover the story in California."

I figure cool right? Nice mild weather, tanned chicks in bikinis, sushi, and being harangued by anti-smoking laws. Bob Gucionne Jr just gave me $50 of blow money minus the shipping costs too; I figure I'm going to go see my "Brokeback Mountain Troll" script being planned by Miramax in style.

Well, it turns out that California is on fire.

I can't believe the sheer irony of my huge story being ruined by California being on fire.

Where the fuck are all the firemen, you hippies!?

Rear-Entry in Dumbledore Saga Jolts Potter Fans

Predator Press

[LOBO]

If you care about this, you're either too old to be reading Harry Potter in the first place, or too much of a paranoid homophobic religious nut to be taken seriously.

Still, I'll be looking forward to Book 8: "Harry Potter and the Brokeback Mountain Troll"

I've already drafted the sure-fire blockbuster.

It's amazing.

Even Ethan says I did a fantastic job, but the "Bazillion Wax Cauldron" scene is simply too horrifying; Rowling will want to 'soften that part up' a bit for the kids.

And I'm cool with that J; I'm not some snooty pantywaist that doesn't like people messing with my "art". You can do whatever your brilliant and lucrative storytelling heart wants to do with my ideas for the right amount of cash: bastardize it, change the ending, take pictures of friends urinating on it in the shower, whatever!

In advance anticipation of generous and substantial gratitude for my fine, exhausting efforts, for your convenience I've put the only copy of the script, my copyright application information, a half gallon of gasoline and a book of matches in a Overnight Fed-Ex envelope, pending only your cashier's check and address verification.

... But act fast: Bob Guccione Jr has already offered me 50 bucks.

72 Hours of "Empire at War" Causes Hallucinations

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Predator Press Upset With Vista, MicroSoft, Gates

Predator Press

[LOBO]

This computer worked just fine thanks.

I know I can't legally say outright that Bill Gates has caused me so much excruciating grief over the past few days -what with these "innovations, enhancements and improvements"- swift and lethal payback is in order.

But we just bought this computer ten years ago. It was $350! And frankly, that thing was nothing more than grief.

Bill Gates has completely ruined the internet; this supposedly "modern" one doesn't doesn't even have a 5 1/2" disk drive or a 56k modem!

I know I can't legally say outright that Bill Gates has caused me so much excruciating grief over the past few days swift and lethal payback is in order, so screw it. I won't.

jerk

Weapons of Mass Dysfunction

Predator Press

[LOBO]

What? Too soon?

Mukasey: Torture Authority Memo 'Mistake'

Predator Press

[LOBO]

As Attorney General-designate Michael Mukasey was admitting that the now-famous document written by General Jay Bybee and endorsed by Alberto Gonzalez was a mistake, I thought, "well duh."

Wow. Memos are horrible and dangerous things.

WTG genius.

As you readers know, I already know better than to put anything really crazy in writing. So I'm suffering jetlag and airline-food indigestion only to learn once again I'm light years ahead of the government? When Ethan told me to go to Capitol Hill to cover the 'torture memo' story, I thought it would be a saucy sex scandal!

I got bored quickly. And God bless me Ethan, I even tried drafting a story about this guys' horrible tie ... but I was just powerless against the oppressive, excruciating blasé of listening to those old guys.

An irritated Secret Service guy nudged me rudely awake. Said I was snoring. I asked the guy if there was anyplace to get coffee, and he put his finger to his lips and 'shooshed' me.

No, I'm serious. The prick shooshed me!

He took a few minutes quietly explaining to me how I'm "supposed to be quiet," and "you can't get coffee during Capitol Hill proceedings," and how the porn I was browsing on my laptop was "offending the people behind me."

This guy must be just as bored as I am.

I decided to engage him in conversation. I tried to explain that the crunkly old white people here were pent up about porn because they had all the collective sexual attraction of a sardine stuffed the wrong way through a mallard. And that the secret to attracting these chicks is probably only wearing a decent magnet considering the bling on all the trophy wives in attendance.

And even as I was beaten and tased, I knew I was on my way to a Pulitzer ...

Frumpy Billionaire Interviewed on Larry King Live

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Were we really all that interested in the first place?

I would have gone with Danny Bonaduce.

About the Author

Predator Press

There were a few "happy accidents" that caused this blog.

The first was the actual inception.


***

I used to be an insurance company "claims processor". My job, it soon occurred, was to find ways to deny insurance claims.

In my third year, some of my 'clients' were dead.

I knew them by name; I was familiar with their families.

Like anyone else that suddenly discovers their previously unknown rather ghoulish occupation, I started doing the heroic thing: I started fucking off at work. I remember blowing through about sixty claims an hour for maybe a month, approving every last one.

I got bonuses for record productivity.

In my ample spare time, I wrote gag "Official Company Memorandum", and push-pinned them neatly onto the company bulletin boards. Then I evolved to fake cutout newspaper articles about coworkers getting abducted by aliens.

For some reason, the company fired me.

The guy I base "Ethan" on drove me home after I was kicked off the premises.

We became fast friends.

And it's that same guy that courageously posted first on our "brainchild", in an effort to keep me writing.


***

The second "Accident" was filling out an online dating questionnaire.

Predator Press already existed, but it felt constrained. At the time, it was a blog as blogs are generally defined. In many ways, "LOBO" owes his mere existence over just plain snarky angst.

I kinda blew through the dating site profile questions, mildly amused; they all required answers like "long walks on the beach" and "cuddling with puppies". Bored, I thought it would be funny to fill out the whole thing like I was too stupid to know when I was supposed to lie. And having committed to the fantasy fully, I saw that writing like an honest and articulate five-year-old can be just plain liberating.

Thusly, "LOBO", the Snarquis de Sade is born.

And the girl that answered the ad?

I'm marrying her soon.

:)

LOBO Fails Drivers License Renewal

Predator Press

This is the unfortunate consequence of neglecting
to promptly turn off your blinker.