LOBOcop

Predator Press

[LOBO]

"LOBO" says the text.

"What?"

"CAN YOU READ THIS?"

"Well yeah," I respond.

"YOU DIED 50 YEARS AGO IN AN ELEVATOR, AND WE PUT YOUR FROZEN BRAIN IN A ROBOT BODY AS YOU REQUESTED."

"Well, can you please stop typing in these green upper caps?"

"NO. YOU OPTED FOR THE DOS PROTOTYPE."

"But I did get the hovershoes, right?"

"YES."

"And a spell checker?"

"YES. SPELLCHECK COMES STANDARD IN THE FUTURE."

"Can I go to Arbys?"

"ARBYS WAS DESTROYED IN 2019 BECAUSE THEY FORGOT YOUR FRIES AT THE DRIVE THRU. JUST THINK C:\WINDOWS\HISTORY\WWXI\ARBYHOLOCAUST\FLAVOR.EXE"

"Fuck that. This 'Fries' cache file is totally corrupted."

The Cube of Woe

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Man I was unbelievably pissed.

"Sir," squawks the technician over my cellphone. "It would be a lot easier to help you if you calmed down."

"Calm down?" I demand. "I'm going to die in this thing!"

"I highly doubt that sir. You said you already called the fire department, right?"

"Yes I did. I also called the police, the CIA, the FBI, FEMA and Interpol. How dare you unleash this poorly designed and untested -potentially lethal device- upon the unsuspecting public?"

"It's called an elevator, sir."

"It's a goddamned box of death, you quack! You people are the geometric equivalent of Comcast. Where'd you learn engineering, cosmetology school?"

"Sir, I assure you our engineers and technicians are highly qualified. But I'm only a customer service rep for Otis Elevators."

Inspecting the warning panel, I verify this: Otis Elevators is clearly marked right next to 'In Case of Emergency' and the 800 number I dialed.

"Well, let me talk to Otis."

"Excuse me?"

"Otis," I demand coolly. "Put that fucker on."

[muffled laughter]

"Uh, sir, -"

"I'm sorry. Did you say something? I can't hear you unless you're Otis!"

"Um," says the guy. "I'm Otis sir."

"Really?" I says.

"Yes sir. Now you said you already called the fire department. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Well it's pretty boring in here. And the fire department won't be here for another half an hour."

"You don't have a paperback or something?"

"No," I says glumly. "I even called Mandy."

"Mandy?"

"Yeah. It's scratched in the glass here. 'For a good time call Mandy'. She's actually a pretty decent cello player, but it was eating up my minutes."

"Sir, I've been running a satellite diagnostic on the elevator you're in and it's responding just fine. Which floor did you press?"

"Floor?"

"Yes sir. There are buttons you have to press with numbers that correspond with the floor you want to go to."

"No shit?"

"Yes sir. They should be right over the warning plaque."

"I'll be damned. Otis, you're a genius!"

"Thank you sir."

"Wow. They even light up!"

Real Estate

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Apartment hunting can be one long series of let-downs after another.

But as the guy that fills in when the Predator Press Copy Editor is sick, I figure I gotta think ferocious and big.

We have an image to keep up after all.

I rather liked this one. Despite the dust and the skeletons, I thought it would make a nice 'fixer-upper'. I'll bet if I went to the store and bought some flathead screwdrivers and then hired some people who knew how to use them, this place would have been top notch in no time.

If it wasn't for the commute, I might have gone for it.

Still, there are other pyramids.

This stately model was really attractive. I mean it's like Aztec or something. What better place to raise your kids, knowing full well that one day they must slay you that they may finally worship themselves instead?

I finally concluded that I didn't want to deal with all that lawn care and landscaping.

I finally settled on this place. I mean sure it's too small and the bathrooms smell funny: in real estate terms, that means "cozy" and "odorific".

Just look at all those kickass videogames.

And hello? A mechanical bull? I've always wanted a mechanical bull!

I can just imagine the tears of joy when LadyTerri finds out I got this cool place with a mechanical bull by merely cashing in our 401k.

She might even make pork chops.

The Proliferation of The Left

Predator Press

[LOBO]

According to ABC News, "Statistics show left-handed people are more likely to be schizophrenic, alcoholic, delinquent, dyslexic, and have Crohn's disease and ulcerative colitis, as well as mental disabilities."

Further tedious statistics reveal that 7-10% of the human population consists of left-handers; this means one out of ten people are left handed.

But if we act quickly, we could totally wipe this seething hoard of freaks out all at once: at ten to one, in a span of mere days we could eradicate the soulless left-handed menace from the face of the Earth altogether.

I like to think it of it as us helping Darwin help God.

Rejection Coverage 2008

Predator Press

[LOBO]

This election -like any other- is goddamn boring, and I've finally figured out exactly why.

See, nobody really loses: there are absolutely no consequences for the flaccid, unimaginative narrow group America decides I'm free to vote for endlessly bugging me with their incessant crap.

There's always:

a) the person that wins the Whole Enchilada, and
b) a ton of leftovers getting tons of $ to make more mind-numbingly pointless and dull speeches.

We need one of those Presidential wanna-bees to be the capitol "L" LOSER so's we can dish out some payback ... and I say we beat that audacious and annoying prick into grainy paste over the next four years for even trying.

Make it a charity thing maybe. For instance, if you pay $1 to the March of Dimes, you get to kick Mike Huckabee in the ribs for Arkansas Amendment 2, "a constitutional amendment increasing the state sales tax 0.125% to improve the state's park system and natural resources".

0.125%? For providing bears a place to shit!?

... I don't even live in Arkansas, and I think that guy is a jerk.

Author's Note: This blog does not represent the ideas nor beliefs of the author, nor does it endorse the ill-treatment of Mike Huckabee.

Mike Huckabee was not harmed during the writing of this post.

Oops

Predator Press

[LOBO]

That whole last 'Hittites' post was actually supposed to be about Frank Lloyd Wright.

So at LadyTerri's request, I visited Doctor Viz-O-Quack, 'an that witch doctor prescribed me glasses like twin Hubble telescopes.

While wearing them makes my back hurt, I can now see how I have been so wrong:

I hate organic architecture, and I'm blind.

Author's Note: This blog does not represent the ideas nor beliefs of the author, nor does it endorse the ill-treatment of Frank Lloyd Wright.

No Frank Lloyd Wrights were harmed during the writing of this post.

A Good, Dead Hittite

Predator Press

[LOBO]

While not rubbing elbows with rock bands and committing insurance fraud, it's a little known fact that I'm a vehement racist.

I'll bet you never would have guessed that, but there it is.

I hate Hittites.

I hate them with a purple, venomous passion.

See, the Hittite kingdom is conventionally divided into three periods: the Old Hittite Kingdom (ca. 1750-1500 BC), the Middle Hittite Kingdom (ca. 1500-1430 BC) and the New Hittite Kingdom (the Hittite Empire proper, ca. 1430-1180 BC).

And I freakin hate all three of them. I mean they are dead, right? How the fuck great can you be if you're dead? Hm? I can, say, go make a pot of coffee. Would you Hittites like a cup of coffee? No? Oh, you're dead you say?

Well, HA HA.

More coffee for me.

And no, I don't think organizing a protest is a good idea ... I'll go Dustbuster on your ass.

We all know intuitively that red is bad, right? Well, just look at this satellite photo: see how bad these people are? I mean that is concentrated fucking evil: I hope the Sumerians kick the crap out of them!

Indo-Hittites are pretty cool, but unfortunately everytime I see cuneiform I just wanna puke 'cuz it reminds me of those lousy scumbag garden-variety Hittites. I'm nauseated I gotta breathe the same air they did! Blech. I can still taste Hittite crawling in this lousy air.

They oughta make anti-Hittite Febreeze.

Author's Note: This blog does not represent the ideas nor beliefs of the author, nor does it endorse the ill-treatment of the descendants of the noble Hittite.

No Hittites were harmed during the writing of this post.