Friday, October 20, 2006

Night of the Robin Williams wannabes

You know what I hate? Werewolves. I mean, where do they get off? Who invented werewolves anyway? Guess it was somebody with a wolf phobia. But the whole concept just doesn’t make much sense to me. I’ve been bitten by plenty of animals and even kicked by a horse (it was my fault I had forgotten to bring the lube) yet I remain (as far as I know) a human.

By all rights I should be a were-mosquito-turtle-spider-moose, but I’m not. On the other hand I have been bitten by people too, and maybe human enzymes are the strongest. Is it possible that I’ve been a wereperson all along and didn’t know it? Could it be that every full moon I undergo a horrible transformation and become a perverted creature of the night? Wandering around and doing “human things”? That would explain………very little now that I think about it.

I’m going to conduct an experiment. I’m going to go bite some animal and see what happens. Maybe I have the power to create legions of Werejoshuas ready to do my evil bidding at a moment’s notice. That’d be pretty damn neat. I’ll let you all know how the experiment works out, though if it’s a success I won’t need to say anything because you’ll all read in the news about the great hordes of Werejoshuas sweeping across the country leaving devastation and cheesesteak stains as they go.

As far as you know there could be Werejoshuas out there already, infiltrating society and getting ready to wreak havoc, (which I feel is always the best thing to wreak.)
But, being the nice guy that I am, I’ll give you all signs to look out for that your family pet, or the guy next to you could be one of my many minions.
That person has:

1. A deep love of cartoons in almost all forms, (with a natural wariness of anime.)

2. The need to own obscene quantities of Japanese porn.

3. The ability to quote, at will, anything Dave Chappelle has ever said. Ever.

4. Plaid shorts.

5. A biting and witty sense of sarcastic humor, misunderstood by mainstream society.

6. A love of greasy foods.

7. An intense mistrust of salads and a belief that all salads are nothing more than hamburger toppings without the good part.

8. A problem with authority.

9. An ego so large that it has its own satellites and gravity well.

10. Genitalia the size of a mature Golden Retriever.

If you encounter any of these signs, be not afraid. Just pledge your loyalty and rest assured that you will have either a quick death at the beginning of the uprising, or that you will have a place as a slave, (which is pretty decent work considering how lazy Werejoshuas are. I mean we don’t need much to make us happy.) Either way, you’ll have it better then everybody else.

Now all I have to do is go wander the streets biting random animals. I think I’m going to go floss first.

Sometimes, late at night, I wonder if the government and many Americans are actually WereGeorge W. Bushes. That would explain some of the wacky goings-on from the last six years, including the two elections. But unlike my stupid ass, the Bushes probably have their techniques refined. Back in the days of Bush senior he used needles with his son’s DNA to get to the American public, under the guise of flu shots and the like. True I have no evidence of any of this, but I’m the soon-to-be leader of an army of Werejoshuas, I don’t need evidence of anything!

(And everybody don’t forget my banner contest. Remember, a kick ass banner linking to my blog, will win that creator a very special and super-duper prize, that isn’t at all a cheap t-shirt made by some two-year-old in a Chinese sweatshop located in the bowels of some tenement in the Bronx! God Bless American Capitalism. Anyway, the contest ends November 15th, at which point I will declare the winner and put his or her name out in the public for praise or ridicule, depending on what you think of this blog in the first place. Thanks for your participation and thanks for reading my blog. I write to be funny and I’m glad that you all seem to appreciate it and get the joke.)

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