Thursday

Clash of the Titanics

Predator Press

[LOBO]

As a rule, the LOBOnian Nation is fairly enlightened; therefore Democracy is tolerated as long as the decisions made are ones I would agree with.

But Democracy makes for really boring television.

God I’m sick of it ... Hillary complaining about this. Barack complaining about that. Blah blah blah blah blah. It’s getting so bad I have no idea what Britney and Lindsay are doing at all anymore.

Would you people elect somebody already? How long can I be expected to quietly sublimate your Will under mine if you won’t shut up about this meaninglessness?

Face it: they’re all lame. I can no sooner imagine Hillary rappelling down an Afghanistanian fortress wall to beat Osama to death with a tire iron than I can McCain playin’ a rockin guitar solo during a surprise cameo at a U2 concert.

If you’re going to bother with it at all, go with a winner.


VOTE SPEEDCAT



Wednesday

Liquid Lunch

Predator Press

[LOBO]

" ... attach the color coded cables on the side with magnetic plates, unless it's Wednesday during a month with an 'M' in it.

In this case, define the corresponding animal of the current Chinese New Year and add the numeric values of the letters as per a regulation Scrabble board on Double Word squares with Triple Letter Score on the first vowel.

If the sum is greater than the last three digits of your salesman's birth year, affix the 1/8" bolts to the non-finished sides of parts N12, AAX and 1Q3 unless it's 1966*, then A44, N12, V2L and Q must be completely parallel to themselves, and perpendicular to Alpha Proxima.

* IMPORTANT: If it's model 99Av0441, please be sure to refer to illustrations 987.01 - 15111.a04."



If LadyTerri makes me assemble anymore
IKEA furniture, I'm just going to get a job.


Tuesday

Go to Sleep, City

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Dear Criminal Empire aka Swisher Inc.,

You people have wrecked my Summer.

I'm supposed to enjoy Summer. The air is warm, and supposed to be alive with the sounds of playing children and singing birds ... not the endless and vitriolic profanity I'm streaming at this so-called "lawn mower".

The cops have been here twice!

How dare you foist this "Big-Mow" piece of crap engineering out on the general public? I should totally sue you! Ever since my parents forked out their hard-earned $59 on this junk in 1979, I've had nothing but problems. And I've only used it like five, maybe six times! WTF?

Up until now, I've been a very satisfied customer. When I accidentally hit that pickup truck that was buried in the backyard, it started right back up after I straightened the blades out with vice grips and a sledgehammer.

Now, nothing.

You should have at least warned people in the documentation that it will stop working entirely if you ever change the oil.

Sincerely,

LOBO


According to ninja experts, lawns are
best maintained through intimidation.


Wednesday

What if our Alien Visitors are Delicious?

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Oh, come on ... you're all thinking it, you're just too chicken to ask.

And I can already hear you bleeding heart liberals complaining, 'But LOBO, aliens capable of interstellar travel would be super-intelligent!' blah blah.

Oh please ... ridden a bus lately?

What if these are celestial losers tryin to get a picture of themselves next to the intergalactic equivalent of the 'World's Biggest Ball of Yarn?"

Pthbttt!

The capability of travel doesn't impress me. In fact, non-intelligent beings travel every day (see right, also TFASD).

Frankly, these rude and unannounced tourists being 'intelligent' only makes the idea more attractive: what could be better than a meal that preheats the oven, sets the timer, lathers itself in a fine Mornay sauce and is fully cooked to a succulent golden-brown before you even get home?

As far as I'm concerned, the only question is whether to serve them with a white wine or a red.


Julia Child was secretly part of the Jeff Rense Program.


Monday

Ask LOBO

Predator Press

[LOBO]

People are always asking me, "LOBO, you are so worldly and brilliant, when are you going to give us your secrets on having happy and fulfilling relationships?"

Well, I'm glad you asked me that.

-Now that I have been blissfully wed for two full months, I feel I am qualified to lecture comprehensively on the subject.

It all boils down to five simple rules:

1) Keep the Romance Alive: Pretend you have feelings, and talk about them frequently.

2) Honesty is Not Optional: When your significant other is firing known minefield queries like 'do you think she's attractive?' DO NOT PANIC: tools to bring about your own self-destruction are often in ample supply when one is thinking creatively. Electrical cords, for instance, can be used to hang yourself in the absence of piano wire and guitar strings; if time is a luxury you posses, carefully knotted strips of bath towels and/or blue jeans will do the job with considerably less mess.

3) Appreciate Her Uniqueness: The best visual aid I can offer is that men communicate like this:




... while women communicate like this:



Remember that '8os horror movie Scanners where people's veins swelled up purple until their heads exploded? That's what'll happen to you if you try to figure them out.

Stick with chocolate.

4) Take the other point of view: When she wants you to have an opinion, she will give you one.

Be patient.

5) Know your limitations: Find a woman that is already aware that you're an idiot. This will save you both from a lot of unnecessary conversations trying to convince you otherwise. Plus, once she realizes you're far too simpleminded to try and "pull one over on her", sentences like "Honey, I had no idea this was pornographic material. I was just trying to figure out why they kept misspelling 'come'!" will be interpreted as honest and straightforward -just as they were intended to be.

There you have it: my five simple rules.

Hopefully LadyTerri will let me back inside long enough so I can post them soon.


Maybe Daisy can unlock the door ...



Saturday

Full Immersion

Predator Press

[LOBO]

I have come into possession of my very first deep fryer.

Sweet.

I started small. You know, french fries, mushrooms, that sort of thing.

But soon my habit blossomed.

Within hours, I was deep-frying an entire 16 oz block of cheddar.

And then a bucket of fried chicken.

Sure enough, this turned out to be what the cops refer to as the "gateway appliance": soon I was deep-frying a carelessly unattended pair of Oakley sunglasses, coffee grounds, an iPod, the entire first season of Spongebob Squarepants on VHS, and somewhere around four pillowcases.

LadyTerri calls it "cheating on my diet".

I call it science.


I had to explain all this to the Mattress Police.


Friday

Divining Rod

Predator Press

[LOBO]

If you're reading this blog, most likely you are already sitting.

This is good, because what I'm about to tell you may come as quite a shock ... and I don't need any more lawsuits.

Here goes:


There's a pretty significant statistic of planet
Earth that isn't reading Predator Press
.

Okay.

Relax.

Deep breaths.

Take a few seconds before continuing.

I don't type that fast.

Naturally, no one was more shocked than I at this news. I had the Predator Press scienticians check and recheck my figures and spreadsheets, and unfortunately there's just no doubt about it: at this moment you, 'o loyal reader, may be among the lucky few with my selfless Wisdom, Purity, Hope and Truth screaming electronically through your doe-like retinas and into your frontal lobe.

But we cannot judge this widespread ignorance too harshly.

See, roughly 70% of the Earth's population just doesn't get the internet at all. And of the remaining 30%, half of those have Comcast so they aren't able to read any blogs either.

This leaves about 15%.

Now two-thirds of these people are an acceptable margin that I classify as "blog fodder": they are the mindless yet litigiously-solvent and loveable masses of chaff that do the dumb things I make fun of -and won't sue me because they don't know I'm alive.

The remaining 5% are likely the surgeons, firemen, and congressmen -far too busy maintaining the infrastructure of the world, and clearly under the misconception that I am paying attention to it.

Essentially, this leaves Rodney Morgan who lives at 1664 Wintergreen Terrace in Pennsauken, New Jersey.

Rodney has internet connectivity, a fairly mindless job, not much of a social life, no lawn to maintain, no pets, and only goes to family functions twice a year.

Rodney has no excuses whatsoever.

And I want his ass kicked.


Earth is a pretty nice place when viewed From the Roads.


Thursday

Making a Stand

Predator Press

[LOBO]


Save Canada with Predator Press