Predator Press
[LOBO]
The problem with being such an attractive and desirable catch to the opposite sex is that chicks can, upon occasion, be overly aggressive. And the stocky ones wearing combat boots and flannel can be deceptively fast runners too!
Worse, the ingenious six-foot tall disguise that President Bush’s gardener provided me proved highly impractical when fleeing in terror of losing my obviously-endangered chastity; while running as hard and fast as I could, every time I turn, I see nothing but bared teeth framed by a spiky bamboo-addled mullet, pressed tight against scalp by virtue of sheer aerodynamic force.
She’s gaining on me.
Panting, sweating and trailing broken bamboo shoots and leaves, I slam the door to Ethan’s office, and press my back against it.
Sitting in front of Ethan’s desk were both Mr Insanity and Sapphire. And while fresh and rested-looking from their long Winter Break, they looked a little pissed about something.
“Hi guys!” I says excitedly, still out of breath.
Everybody just stares at me.
“Is there a problem?” I ask innocently.
Someone starts banging on the door behind me.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” says Mr Insanity.
Even as I press backward, I can feel the door starting to give. “No,” I says. “There’s no problem. What makes you think there’s a problem?”
“Well,” says Ethan smiling. “I was just telling Seth and Sapphire how you were filling in for them over the past few months.”
Desperately holding the door back, I manage a grin over a muffled cursing and a thunderous crash, followed by the sound of cracking oak. “Really, there’s no need to thank me right now.”
“Thank you?” says Mr. Insanity. “You told everyone I was dead!”
“Maybe,” I says. My planted feet are starting to slide over the carpet as the splintering door inches forward.
“Oh that’s nothing,” laughs Ethan. “Wait’ll you here about what he wrote about Sapphire.”
Friday
Wednesday
Bamboo
Predator Press
[LOBO]
“Sir,” asks the lady behind the Democratic Headquarters desk, “May I help you?”
I say nothing.
“Sir,” she says in a more authoritative tone. “I’m going to call Security. Why exactly are you hiding in the corner dressed like a shrub?”
Thinking quickly, I says, “I’m a Bamboo.”
“I saw you getting off of the elevator.”
A pause.
I tilt the top of the tree forward, leaning into her confidingly, “I really doubt that.”
“I’m calling Security,” she says finally.
“On a Bamboo plant explicitly not trying to gain sensitive information for the Republican party?”
She looks at me sternly.
“That’s a very nice Mullet, by the way.”
“Pig!” she screams while blowing the air horn, punctuated occasionally by her silver whistle.
“No!” I scream reassuringly at the Godless whore. “Bamboo!”
[LOBO]
“Sir,” asks the lady behind the Democratic Headquarters desk, “May I help you?”
I say nothing.
“Sir,” she says in a more authoritative tone. “I’m going to call Security. Why exactly are you hiding in the corner dressed like a shrub?”
Thinking quickly, I says, “I’m a Bamboo.”
“I saw you getting off of the elevator.”
A pause.
I tilt the top of the tree forward, leaning into her confidingly, “I really doubt that.”
“I’m calling Security,” she says finally.
“On a Bamboo plant explicitly not trying to gain sensitive information for the Republican party?”
She looks at me sternly.
“That’s a very nice Mullet, by the way.”
“Pig!” she screams while blowing the air horn, punctuated occasionally by her silver whistle.
“No!” I scream reassuringly at the Godless whore. “Bamboo!”
Tuesday
Landscaping
Predator Press
Newt shuts the door. “Look, I can’t do this. It’s just too heartless.”
“An he’s cryin like a sissy,” says Bush, wincing. “I told you not to cancel his decoder ring yet!”
“Look,” says Newt. “Everyone makes mistakes. Both Clinton and Bush admitted to some rather nefarious ‘youthful indiscretions'. The media went nuts.“
“Ooo, I love stories!" says Bush. "Then what happened?”
“What we’re gonna do,” says Rush, “is ask him to be a spy Democrat.”
“We wouldn't even have to wait for Jesus to kill him," exclaims Bush. "That’s geniusness!”
“We could even make him report to somebody,” gloats Newt.
“I vote my gardener,” says Rush, raising his hand.
“Aw,” complains Bush. “Your gardener is already handling Social Security. It’s my turn to have a kewl gardener.”
Newt shuts the door. “Look, I can’t do this. It’s just too heartless.”
“An he’s cryin like a sissy,” says Bush, wincing. “I told you not to cancel his decoder ring yet!”
“Look,” says Newt. “Everyone makes mistakes. Both Clinton and Bush admitted to some rather nefarious ‘youthful indiscretions'. The media went nuts.“
“Ooo, I love stories!" says Bush. "Then what happened?”
“What we’re gonna do,” says Rush, “is ask him to be a spy Democrat.”
“We wouldn't even have to wait for Jesus to kill him," exclaims Bush. "That’s geniusness!”
“We could even make him report to somebody,” gloats Newt.
“I vote my gardener,” says Rush, raising his hand.
“Aw,” complains Bush. “Your gardener is already handling Social Security. It’s my turn to have a kewl gardener.”
Monday
Night in the Ruts
Predator Press
[LOBO]
The blindfold comes off, and I’m sitting in a small room.
Around me –left to right-- is Newt Gingrich, Rush Limbaugh, and President George Bush.
“Word up, homie!” I says to Bush, who artfully avoids my conspicuous 'High Five'.
“LOBO,” says Newt. “We have to talk. In your first week as a Republican, you’ve enraged senior citizens, published smutty innuendoes, and insulted maybe every religion on the face of the Earth.”
I look around, and I can read it in their eyes.
I’m being kicked out.
“Look,” says Rush, puffing a stogie. “Not everyone is cut out to be a Republican. We think you should join the Democratic Party." He taps his ash, "We've already cancelled your decoder ring."
[LOBO]
The blindfold comes off, and I’m sitting in a small room.
Around me –left to right-- is Newt Gingrich, Rush Limbaugh, and President George Bush.
“Word up, homie!” I says to Bush, who artfully avoids my conspicuous 'High Five'.
“LOBO,” says Newt. “We have to talk. In your first week as a Republican, you’ve enraged senior citizens, published smutty innuendoes, and insulted maybe every religion on the face of the Earth.”
I look around, and I can read it in their eyes.
I’m being kicked out.
“Look,” says Rush, puffing a stogie. “Not everyone is cut out to be a Republican. We think you should join the Democratic Party." He taps his ash, "We've already cancelled your decoder ring."
I'm Sorry
Predator Press
[LOBO]
All you cranky seniors sending me hate mail and downing me in the blog ratings because you were offended by that last post should probably "cool your jets" for a minute.
Firstly, this is an adult site. This sophomoric humor, while brilliant and intrinsically vital to Humankind as a whole, should under no circumstances ever be viewed by children or cranky old bastards like you.
But on a personal level – thereby infinitely more important-- anyone that reads this blog for any length of time knows that no one in it gets spoofed harder than me.
Period.
So what can I say to all that, other than I only hope your sorry, miserable mirthlessness will one day soon be extinguished in a swift and merciful way?
I, conversely, choose laughter.
[LOBO]
All you cranky seniors sending me hate mail and downing me in the blog ratings because you were offended by that last post should probably "cool your jets" for a minute.
Firstly, this is an adult site. This sophomoric humor, while brilliant and intrinsically vital to Humankind as a whole, should under no circumstances ever be viewed by children or cranky old bastards like you.
But on a personal level – thereby infinitely more important-- anyone that reads this blog for any length of time knows that no one in it gets spoofed harder than me.
Period.
So what can I say to all that, other than I only hope your sorry, miserable mirthlessness will one day soon be extinguished in a swift and merciful way?
I, conversely, choose laughter.
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