Monday, August 31, 2009


Boogey Man Relieved

Comedian, television star, and apparently a beloved hoax. The star and creator of one of the most popular american television shows of all time was recently voted out of existence.
Bill Cosby? Don't know who I'm talking about? That's because he never existed.
But what about all those things he did? Absolute fiction.
But he was the spokesperson for Jello! You mean like the Trix Rabbit? The michelin man?
He raised Rudy and Theo! Correction, that was Phil Huxtable. Also a character of fiction.
Ghost Dad! Ghosts: do not exist. Dads: Theoretical.
Good bye Bill Cosby!
Welcome to oblivion!

Saturday, August 29, 2009

A Letter to the Kidnappers

Kidnappers who are reading this. First of all, congratulations. You are terrifying.
Secondly, why is it called kidnapping? I feel like it should be called kid-nabbing. Try it.
Repeat after me:

"I just nabbed some kids. I'm a kidnabber."
Doesn't that sound better than,

"I just napped some kids. I'm a kidnapper." ?
When was the last time anyone napped anything?

Sounds to me like you take naps with kids. Michael Jackson got into a lot of trouble for that and he was the King of Pop. Chances are if you are kidnabbing* children then you are not nearly as reputable as the late Michael Jackson, and certainly not an icon.

And also, it seems like people call it kidnapping even when it does not involve kids. IF it's that serious then let's get serious about what we're going to call it. Is it to get more attention to the old people? Are people afraid that if you don't throw a kid into the mix no one will care?

Ransom notes: that would be hard for me. I tend to over write, cutting out all those letters would be difficult and messy. Plus the cops would be like, "These fonts are from Esquire and GQ. We're looking for a gay guy. A gay guy who loves kidnapping."

Anyway, I guess the point really is, it sounds like a lot of work. I guess I don't really understand the payoff? Someone else's kid? Can't you just get a mexican kid or a chinese kid? I mean . . . free's free! And if you're going on the ransom angle . . . well, how many times does that EVER work out? Just seems like a lot of work.

*That's right. I said kidnabbing.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

It's not you it's my leader.

To all those concerned:
I'm severing all ties with everyone I know. Friends, family, colleagues, internet fuck buddies, even my blog. I'm joining a doomsday cult. I saw this guy's face on a flyer in the mall and I just about shit my pants. I mean, this is the guy; he's looks like Spock and Dracula combined with a little bit of Jude Law.

Anyway, I just can't help it. I love this guy. His name is Pyotr Kuznetsov. I don't know how to pronounce his name so I've been calling him Peter.
Love. Love is many things. Many things are love. Peter says things like that. The other day he said, "Love is old. Love is new. Love is all, love is you." And he may be a weirdo but you know what world? Love is a weirdo. You can't help who you fall in love with, and I mean, people love Jesus. So I love this guy. Sometimes I call him Leader Peter.
Peter says the world was supposed to end like may something last year and when it didn't he got really depressed. So it's been really hard for him to get people interested in gathering around together and committing to a day for the world to end. It just sounded like a human interest story to me all the way. So I went to a meeting and well . . . the rest is history. I wanted a story but I got more than I bargained for. I am in love with this doomsday cult and for the first time in my whole life I am in love with me. I am blossoming. I am loving. I've never been better. Unfortunately I will never see any of you ever again, so there's that. UNLESS you want to join the cult. In which case: AWESOME!!
The cult is really cool, it's just like camp except there's sex and stuff. Some field work some brainwashing, but it's much better than the nine to five shit I've been doing lately anyway. There's no worldly possessions in the cult and Peter says I should give away all my stuff but I'm putting all my stuff into storage. You know, in case the doomsday prophecy is accidently misinterpreted again like last year; so please don't send me a bunch of e-mails for my stuff unless you have a serious offer.
But listen guys, I'm getting off the subject. The point is it's been great knowing everyone and good bye forever.
This is Marc Sauve saying:
Good Existence Marcketeers. Good existence everyone!

Oh yeah. Mass suicide TBA in January 2010. Should be a good turn out.

Friday, August 14, 2009

The Lost Journals of David Greivington

My name is David Greivington. I came to the dark continent seeking god and adventure. I found both. I've been traveling on my own for what I believe has been three nights. I passed out several times from blood loss coupled with no food or water. I should correct that statement. Thought to have been consumed by wild cannibals, I abandoned all notions that the missionaries I was traveling with could still be alive. Days turned to weeks; I prayed for death. Why? Why them? Why not me? Why didn't those jackals eat me? I'm a good looking guy. Is it how I dress? Is it how I dress damn you?! I guess mother was right! No man wants to come near me, why would an african savage be any different! Oh I'm never getting married!"
- David Greivington, June, 1873


I'm sorry.

I've abandoned my blog! I've abandoned my child! I created something, nourished it, cared for it, showed it proudly to the world, and then I abandoned it. Left it out in the cold. For this I should be voted out of existence.

I am happy to say my blog and I talked it out. We're going to be ok. We're going to be O-K!

Thanks for sticking with us guys. We won't let you down again.