Sunday, February 29

A POEM
***********

The girl was standing
next to the exit.
She was very pretty,
And he wanted to kiss her.
So he approached her,
Told her his name,
And kissed her.
She immediately turned
Into an Ice Woman
And his lips got stuck
To her face.


Wednesday, February 25

a puzzle... FOR PRIZES!
********

a brianteaser if you will.

I'll take a regular sentence and mix up all the words, and you, the fun-seeking audience, can try to find out what the sentence originally said. Here we go.

"new bucket me urine you matter take can't away I no carpeting what say celebrities about urine a it full from you visiting and have of and."

First one to solve the puzzle correctly gets a t-shirt. It'll be a bad-ass shirt, too.




Thje fitire is a magical place where flying cars and psliling are all the rage.

i can't p;lay guiar and i can't play the fr3nch horh, but people still love me nayways.

i'm awkward and shy and am adicted to my creative outlets.

i don't have to type rpoberly. anyone who hapdp s aproblem withe me jsut khitting the kiebyord speak now or don't.

and id'm sober, but just dont ecjare about typfging rithg nw. tkae that internet.


Tuesday, February 24

It's the end of the show, and we've all had a wonderful time. Haven't we Mr. Happy Puppet Head? Yeah, it was great.

But now it's time to turn off the tv, brush your teeth, and go to bed. But first I'd like to talk to you about something important. Just a little advice.

Don't ever get adicted to anything. It is the worst thing in the world. I once had a friend who was addicted to something, and his eyes melted. He couldn't even cry over the loss of his eyesight. I had another friend who did drugs, and she got the disease where she grew lots of arms and legs and they beat her up all the time. You don't want that, kids. Trust me.

So your best bet is to not ever do anything unless it is condoned by our public school system. They know best. For easy reference, look in your Health book. The stylishly dressed kids from the mid-eighties will never let you down.

So don't do any sort of drug unless it modifies your behavior in ways appropriate for a school environment, don't ingest anything unless it's manufactured by either Coca Cola or Pepi, and never go to parties, only study sessions (the for real kind) and promptly leave when you feel that you have adequately prepared yourself for your test or quiz. Don't smoke anything of any kind. Just to be safe, keep inhaling to a minimal.

And don't listen to your friends when they tell you that you aren't living life to it's fullest. Not doing drugs and getting good grades are the most important things there are.

Goodnight, kids. And watch out.

Today's show will be happy and pretty.

Like maybe some group hugging and some trust falls. How about I show you how to make friendship bracelets? We've got some neon shoelaces we could use... and we could play Scrabble. I'm real good at that. We could sing along to some cd's, I've got some good music out in my car, and dance a little.

Hey, Mr. Happy Puppet Head, go boil some water. We'll have hot chocolate and herbal tea.

And bring out my pajamas. The good ones, we're on air.

Maybe I'll start everything off with a story? A nice happy pretty one.

**************
A STORY!

"The Happy Tea Party Picnic with the Cute Fuzzy Things"

Everything was going so splendidly. Spencer Fuzzy Thing was at the Tea Party Picnic with all of his best friends and it was sunny and Linda Fuzzy Thing had made the best sandwiches and soup and fruit tea Spencer thinks he'd ever had.

"Hey, Linda," said Spencer. "Thank you so much for the lovely picnic. This is really great."

"Yeah," aggreed Addelbert Fuzzy Thing. "Really great."

"Oh, thanks guys." Linda blushed. "It wasn't really anything. Ace helped."

"Hey, where is Ace?" Spencer asked. They all looked around, and just at that moment Ace jumped down out of the tree with his arms full of fresh apples!

"I got apples!" he yelled.

"Yay!" Everyone really liked apples, and was glad Ace Fuzzy Thing had brought them some.

They all had a lovely time that day, eating apples and sitting in the sun. Later on Spencer and Linda went off into the tall grass and kissed. She showed him her cute fuzzy breasts, and he showed her his cute fuzzy testicles, and they giggled. Addelbert Fuzzy Thing watched them from where they couldn't see him, and he giggled, too.

The End.
***********************

It's going to be a great show, kids. I just know it.

Monday, February 23

A CARTOON!
**************

The small child is tied to the log outside. The crazy guy with the ski mask holds a large kitchen knife over him in a threatening kind of way.

"I will cut your face," the man says.

"No, please don't cut my face," says the child.

"Okay, I won't... just kidding!" The man leans down and cuts off the boy's nose.

"Ow!" yells the boy. "Ow ow ow!"

The End.
******************************

Now kids, what you just saw was violence. Violence is only bad when in real life, and not in cartoons. If the man had fondled the boy's genetalia, we'd have had to censor it. Pedophelia is never acceptable, not even in cartoons.

Saturday, February 21

Today we have a special guest, kids. It's Mr. Criminal, and he's going to teach us all how to be a little safer in our daily lives.

Hello, Mr. Criminal. Tell us a little about crime and safety.

Oh, I'm sorry kids, I know it's a little hard to understand Mr. Criminal, he does tend to mumble and stare at his feet while talking. He says that crime is the worst thing in the world and to stay away from people who do crime. They are very different from you, and you will have nothing nice to talk about. It'll be awkward--you and the criminal--So stay away.

Truly insightfull, yes. Does the light scare you? You know, the one lamp that people leave on when they go out at night. The lamp to scare all the badguys away. Does it actually scare you, or is that just a myth?

He says it does actually scare them, children, and that despite all the scars and chains and black leather clothing, criminals are all big sissies inside. All it takes is for one lamp to be left on in a dark house and they won't go near it.

What about murdering? How does one avoid it?

What's that? That last bit? oh... okay. He says that the best way to avoid being murdered is to live in a big house in a rich neighborhood. Buy the most expensive things
you can and invite your friends over to look at them. Buy guns and shoot things often. You should shoot anything that looks as if it might murder.

Oh, and he also says that eating sugar, watching too much television, picking your nose, or thinking dirty thoughts about girls will get you murdered sure thing.

I have one last question, Mr. Criminal. Being a badguy yourself, what do you suggest we do to rid the world of your horrilbe lot?

Oh, calm down there Mr. Criminal, no need to begin yelling so inarticulately. Yes, calm down. I can't even understand you.

Okay, he says that all the badguys need to be tricked into a big football field or something. Possibly tricked with the promise of easy rape victims or free instructional classs on credit card fraud. They then need to be poisoned, chopped into pieces, and defecated upon without the consent of any sort of judicial system. He's a badguy himself, so he knows best.

Let's all give him a hand. Thanks Mr. Criminal. Say Mr. Happy Puppet Head, isn't it good to learn that badguys are so easily classified and dealt with? And kids, his whole football field/mass murder proposal really sounded like a good idea, right? So write your congressman, because that's the only way to change anything these days.


Friday, February 20

A CARTOON!
Arpit and Bloodbath in
"Foot Stomping Day"
*****************


Arpit and Bloodbath are hanging out in front of their apartment. Today is Foot Stomping Day, and Arpit is having a great time stomping his feet.



Along comes a giant slug monster. "Hey guys," he says. "What's up?"
Arpit wishes him a happy Foot Stomping Day. The monster says he is far too tired to stomp anything, as he has just spent the entire day kidnapping children.
Arpit agrees that kidnapping children can make one tired.
"You guys don't have a problem with kidnapping and eating children do you?" the monster asks.
"No way, man," Arpit replies. "You can do whatever crazy things you want, and it's alright with us."
"Are you calling me crazy?"
"No, I'm--"
"Do you have a problem with the way I live?"
"I don't know what you're getting on about, buddy, but today is Foot Stomping Day, and we shouldn't be--" At this point the monster picks Arpit up and shoves him into his mouth.



Arpit wiggles around in the monster's mouth for a moment. Bloodbath watches on, interested, but not too interested.

After a moment, the monster's eyes get real wide and he spits Arpit out. Arpit is holding onto what looks like one of the monster's internal organs!


"OW! OW! OW! Give it back! Quick! OW! OW! OW!" howls the monster.

Arpit tosses the throbbing lump of flesh back into the slug's mouth. It blinks furiously for a moment before wiggling away.


In his distress, the monster has forgotten his hard-earned children. All the more friends for Arpit to stomp feet with.
"Hey kids!" Arpit throws his hands into the air. "Happy Foot Stomping Day!"

The End.

Wednesday, February 18

New Performance Art
*****************

I stand among eleven body doubles of myself. they all look very similar to me, wearing thick layers of latex makeup. As well as the goggles and the black cape and large rubber boots. We all stare vacantly towards the ceiling.

Mr. Happy Puppet Head rolls out a giant cake. A green cake with lots of frosting and some loud booming orchestra music begins blasting from the wall of speakers behind us.

Me and the body doubles begin devouring the cake, punching and clawing at each other in an effort to get at the cake.

After only a moment, the cake is gone. Our identical faces covered in green frosting, we collapse on the floor, some unconsious, some simply no longer able to stand. We groan, and the orchestra booms on, getting louder and louder until the speakers begin cracking and smoking and breaking. They explode, pieces of amplifier shrapnel plunging into the soft flesh of the children in the audience. They cry. I and my duplicates begin vommiting violently, our bodies curled into painful fetal positions in a small pool of bile and large chunks of cake.

We cut to a educational documentary in which some teenagers have sex and instantaneously melt from the STDs incurred.




Tuesday, February 17

I want springtime so badly. so bad it hurts. i've tried appreciating the cold, the silence, the grey, the darkness, all of which have their own particular beauties. but i'm done with it. i just want to run around mostly naked/fully naked and have lots of sunshine and sweat and swimming and sunny day drunkeness.

that's all.
A CARTOON!
Arpit and Bloodbath the Unemployed Pirate Captain in
"Hate Appreciation Day"
**************************************************************
Arpit and Bloodbath are standing in front of their apartment. They hear the jingle of the ice cream truck in the distance.

"Oh, I'd like an ice cream," says Bloodbath.
"I hate you old man and you're stupid," Arpit smiles happily up at his friend.
"Arpit?"
"Suck my bile." This phrase makes young Arpit so happy he does a little dance. Bloodbath doesn't have a suitable comeback for "suck my bile," so thinks silently about it for a bit. That is, until the ice cream truck pulls up.

The ice cream truck is being dragged on its side down the street by a large group of children, all tied to the white truck with frayed rope. Standing atop the sideways vehicle is a small cute furry creature with a bright red nose and sparkling eyes. It whips the children's backs as it asks them politely to keep moving.

"Hello there!" calls Bloodbath, waving his sword in the air. "We'd like some ice cream."
"Oh, yes, of course," replies the cute furry creature. "Over there, children, please. That's right. You guys are doing a great job." Sparks fly everywhere as the truck is slowly dragged, screaching and grinding accross the parking lot.

"You are ugly and I can't stand looking at you or being around you!" yells Arpit as he waves cheerfully to the ice cream monster.
"Excuse me?" The little creature looks like it might cry.
"You can't do anything right and nobody likes you."
"Oh... do you guys still want ice cream?"
"Yes," Bloodbath pulls out some dollar bills. "I want a Delicious Flavor Pop."
"Ice cream is for stupids!" This phrase makes Arpit giggle and he can't help but do his happy dance. "Guys, it's Hate Appreciation Day! Remember? Yay! I hate Hate Appreciation Day!"

Bloodbath and the Ice Cream Monster have clearly decided to ignore Arpit completly and exchange money for Flavor Pop. The monster raises its whip to start the children back on their route when Arpit lights a moltov cocktail and throws it into the truck.
"Hate crime!" he yells. The truck blows up and the Ice Cream Monster is thrown high into the air.

Bloodbath eats his ice cream and enjoys it thoroughly. The children, who are now free, rummage through the burning rubble to salvage ice cream. Arpit runs around punching them in the face and screaming obcenities. The ice cream monster lands in a soft bed of pine needles some way off, much of his fur is singed but he isn't hurt. As he curls up and cries himself into unconsciousness, he thinks about how much he hates Hate Appreciation Day.

As we all should.

THE END.

Saturday, February 14

Don't listen to what they say, children. You will not succeed, you will not overcome, and you will not be important. People will not remember you when you are dead, they will not talk about you on prime-time talk shows, and there will be no holiday commemorating your lifetime of achievements.

You will sit in various flourescent rooms for years and years as people attempt to mold you into what they want, their ideal citizens. Most of your life, if you do as they tell you, will be spent in these concrete rooms. You will have various tasks of absolutely no importance to be completed on time and on your boss's desk the next morning or you won't have the pleasure of sitting in the room completing the assigned tasks.

There is no road to fame and fortune. Nothing you do matters. You will die, as will everyone else, and at one time or another there won't be anyone around to remember you, let alone care what you ever did.

so go dancing and yell a lot. have fun. ignore what everyone else is saying or doing. you'll be fine.

SMOKING KILLS! an Educati-FUN Video
*******************************

A group of twelve-year old kids are hanging out in Jimmy's back yard after school.

"Hey guys," says Jimmy. "I scored a pack of cigarettes from my big brother. You wanna smoke them?" Everyone aggress that it would be a good idea to learn how to smoke cigarettes and be cool.

So they pass around the pack and the red lighter. Tommy begins coughing.

"Hey man, you alright?" Stewart asks. Tommy nods his head, signaling that he is alright, and tries to take another puff at the cigarette, but he can't stop coughing. He coughs harder and harder and begins gagging and having a hard time breathing.

There is a bright flash of light and Hey Everyone! It's Marcie the puppet from The Land of Medical Facts and Education! Yay! But nobody notices she has arrived because Tommy has fallen to the ground and is vommiting blood.

"Uh oh," says Marcie. "Looks like... he hasn't ever smoked a cigarette has he?" Everyone tries to hide his lit cigarette behind their backs as they nod their heads No. "You guys can't fool me. He's got lung cancer. And maybe emphesima, too."

"No way! He only had like one drag!"

"That's all it can take sometimes, Jimmy. That's all it can take... oh, I was right. Emphesima. See how his eyes have begun melting? Juego, let him scream. That's what we call an 'epileptic seisure,' perfectly normal for a boy with his condition. Yes, little Juego, he will die very soon."

"But why is this happening to him?"

"Well, Juego," explains Marcie. "Cigarettes kill you. It says so right there on the package. Would the surgeon general lie?"

"Will we die, too?" asks Jimmy.

"Yes, dear. You smoked. That's just the way things happen. " she waves a fuzzy puppet arm in front of her face. "Goodbye Tommy. You were such a good boy until you were tempted by the evils of society. And as we stand before your quickly decaying and maggot-ridden corpse, we will think of the good times. Like all those times you didn't smoke cigarettes. Amen."

Marcie disappears in a bright white flash and the remaining children are left standing awkwardly over the bubbling black puddle that used to be their friend. Little Juego lets out the most adorable cough ever. Fade to black.

DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! JUST SAY NO! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T DON'T JUST SAY SMOKE!SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! JUST SAY NO! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! JUST SAY NO! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! JUST SAY NO! DON'T SMOKE!DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! JUST SAY NO! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! JUST SAY NO! DON'T SMOKE!DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! JUST SAY NO! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! JUST SAY NO! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE! DON'T SMOKE!
I have things to look forward to growing old. Like sitting on the proch with my other geriatric buddies complaining about how you can't tell a human from a robot anymore. Used to be so easy, our robots were plugged into the wall. But not anymore. And in the future all or our neccessary hygenitary habits will be integrated with our DNA. like our teeth will be self-cleaning, our fecal and urinary matter will turn itself into scientific knowledge (which we need), and our skin will sprout water like a sprinkler from our pours to clean ourselves. The future is a brilliant place, yes. What with the lazer guns and robots, and all the sex i'll have to look back on.

Yes kids, by the time all of you are old, hopefully you will have had a lot of good "happy naked times" to look back on. Don't give up an opportunity to do gross-looking things with others. You'll always regret it if you don't, and only rarely regret it when you do.

So I'll be wrinkled, bald, fat, and have health problems, but at least i'll have a sandwich-making robot that looks just like a real boy. and maybe some network telivision i don't hate.


Friday, February 13

I don't want to get old. I look at myself in the mirror sometimes late at night and i see that guy in there, waiting. The lines and puffy skin and the cold eyes. The guy who will forget famous actor names and album titles, and put a "the" at the begining of every movie and bandname that doesn't have one.

And what if for the rest of my life I'm only attracted to girls in their early twenties? I hope that when I'm old I'll think all those old women are hot, because that'll be my best chance. Unless I'm rich or famous or somehow get really smooth and don't lose my hair, then I can just keep pursuing those girls in their twenties. But none of that is too likely.

What if I stop understanding why the current music genres are any good? Is that something that happens to everyone? Right now I'm looking forward to an immense library of future musics, maybe by people that aren't even born yet, but what if there's a cut-off line to what I can enjoy? Like by the time I hit 30 I'll only like the stuff I listened to in college.

There will most likely be another group in the future that everyone considers to be the next Beatles, a band so incredible they make you bleed and they change everything for the better. And what if I don't get it? My old ears just won't comprehend the goodness, and I'll mutter things about Radiohead and the Pixies and the kids will laugh at me and tell me to turn off my oldies station.

Thursday, February 12

CARTOON!
Arpit and Bloodbath in "Happy Too Much Mayonaise Day!"
***************************************

Arpit and Bloodbath are standing in the parking lot in front of their apartment building. It is sunny and lunchtime. Arpit has packed a lunch, and they are getting ready to eat it.

"Whoa," says Bloodbath. "There is a lot of mayonaise in this sandwich."

"But today is Too Much Mayonaise Day, Bloodbath," explains Arpit. "Remember? It's the one day out of the year that we use far too much of that creamy condiment, whether it ruins a perfectly good sandwich or not. Because we care. "

"Oh. I'll just scrape some of it off."

"But it's Too Much Maoynaise Day."

"Uh huh. But I don't like this much mayonaise and I'm hungry."

"But it's Too Much Mayonaise Day."

As Bloodbath removes the thick layers of mayonaise with his sword, a frail old woman drags a large birdcage full of children past the two friends. The children, six of them, watch Arpit and Bloodbath sadly as they pass.

"Happy Too Much Maoynaise Day!" Arpit smiles and waves, but the woman doesn't even look at him as she passes. "Do you guys want a sandwich?" He holds one out for them to take, but the old woman has already walked away.

Arpit shrugs and continues eating his sandwich. "Well I sure like mayonaise."

Tuesday, February 10

Quality. That's what we stand for here at the Midnight Mailman Show (It's for Fun and Learning). Only the best for our kids, that's our goal, motto, etc.

So here's what I'm gonna do for you kids. As you can plainly see I'm wearing nothing but my turqouise bathrobe and my big rubber boots. Mr. Happy Puppet Head will now follow me outside with a camera, and you can all watch me run naked in front of the studio on the big projector screen.

Cue the music... okay, okay, I know it's going to be cold, and if my mom knew she'd probably ask me why I'm about to do this, maybe even try to convince me not to for various mom reasons, but she doesn't have to know about this.

And the lesson here kids, is sometimes when you're at home and kind of sad from being alone, a little energetic outside nudity can do wonders.

Monday, February 9

I declare this week BOWTIE WEEK.

Wear your bowties all week. Wear them proud. They make your neck and uper chest look nice.

People look at you differently when you wear one. And if they don't normally look at you, now they will. The beauty of the bowtie is that it is so rarely taken advantage of in this society. The common assumption is that they are only worn by "nerds" or "people with horrifying secrets written on their adams apple," and this is patently untrue. So wear your bowties and be better than everyone else! At least fashion-wise. And as we all know, the first step to success--and getting some tail--is looking better than your tail-seeking competitors.

BOWTIES. For serious.

Sunday, February 8

"Ugly is the new retarded."

~Kevin-friend, rockin' photographer/graphic designer of www.kevinbyrd.com. check him out.
i'm self-centered but not egotistical.

attractive but kind of funny looking.

most the times happy, but always worried.

i get infatuated with people. excited about small things. i love writing and working on creative stuff, but i feel like i'd be so much happier playing outside in the woods instead of on the computer.


tonight i needed some outside time. so i strapped on my big rubber playing-outside boots and headed out into the front yard. i played drums on the big green electric box. it hummed nicely along with my banging, and i could push on the streetlight to make it click against a tree. it was choice. i also stomped around in the street in front of my house. big rubber boots are really good to stomp around in.

winter is strange. it has a smell, but it's hard to put a finger on specifically what it is. i sat in some pine needles for a while as i drummed. it's a sticky sweet smell, but you have to get right up close to smell it. the wind blowing through empty branches is the only sound, and that's almost the sound of nothing.

the outside alone time at night is one of my favorite things. sitting on the log next to my house watching the moon or hiding in the shaddows behind a tree while it's raining. i'm excited about spring when everything is noisy and pungent, but all this emptiness is nice. sort of like being in outer space. only with gravity, and air, and the ability to go back into my nice warm house and build giant paper mache replicas of myself.

Friday, February 6

I invite the kids down onto the stage. All of them. Yay! We're going to dance.

I have the puppet band start ripping away on some awesome heavy metal tune, and me and the kids just start jumping up and down and yelling and making faces at the cameras.

And this is most of the show i have planned today. The jumping and the dancing. I get really into it and play air guitar and kick my legs and have to take my cape off because it gets so hot. And i sweat.

But I do have some segments interspersed here and there for dramatic effect. I do an evocative interview with a girl who is pregnant with her boyfriend who is a tentacled mutant. Her parents kicked her out of the house and she is living under the bridge with him and his freakish family. She is determined to have the baby, and she is planning on marrying her boyfriend next month. She's all dirty and her clothes are kind of ripped. She admits she's hungry a lot of the time, but she believes it's for the best.

I end the segment with a long shot of her big bulging stomach, and there's some dramatic synthesizer music. If you squint, you can almost see a little tentacle kicking against her belly.

And we cut back to the DANCING WITH THE KIDS TO HEAVY METAL. fun fun fun fun fun. i accidentally knock down a little guy with glasses, but we're all friends here.


Tuesday, February 3

I went to the gym today to work out. i do this a couple times a week.

so today i looked at the bench press and thought, i want to do that one.

so i drop about... something like 120 pounds on my face. it fell slowly, my noodle arms did some good, but as it rolled over my throat, surrounded by muscley people in tight clothing, i saw death.

death sometimes looks like a tall goofy guy wiggling helplessly underneath a barbell with not a whole lot of weight on it. after about twenty seconds, some guy helped me out. my friend mathew said at least a girl didn't save me, but it would have been a good excuse to talk to her. and there was a real cute one not ten feet away.

anyway, i left real quick.
I have problems. I can't sleep, i can't think of anything funny to say, and I eat far too much cake and it dribbles from my mouth and the makeup girl says i should wipe it off but i don't care right now. See this, tv audience?! it's cake on my face! this show is real, not fake! this cake is reality! you wanna know about me? you wanna watch my life and see my real stories? this cake here all over my chin and face, that's me. vanilla frosting.

i realized today that one of my favorite things is to tell drunk girls i think they're pretty. they don't even pay attention most the time. good stuff.

no, i don't want a napkin.


Monday, February 2

Arpit and Bloodbath, LEARNING IS FUN!
*******************************

Hey guys, it's that iseparable pair of unlikely best friends whom you all love so dearly, Bloodbath the unemployed pirate captain and his wacky, half-retarted fifteen year-old best friend, Arpit! Yay!

They are standing in the parking lot in front of their apartment building. It's sunny.

ARPIT: Ow... my torso hurts...
BLOODBATH: Hurt's like how?
ARPIT: You know, just all jabby.
BLOODBATH: In your heart or your lungs?
ARPIT: Kind of both, kind of neither.
BLOODBATH: Was it something you ate?
ARPIT: Yeah, I eat lots of stuff.
BLOODBATH: Was any of it that "milkshake" you made earlier out of old prescription medicines and draino? And those drugs? From that big kid?
ARPIT: I mean, yeah, a lot of it was that... but a lot of it was also those egg rolls from last night.
BLOODBATH: Arpit, you need to go see a doctor.
ARPIT: I don't have to see nothing.
BLOODBATH: Fine. You'll probably die, though.
ARPIT: Yeah, it happens.
BLOODBATH: Oh, uh, now you do know you're bleeding from all of your orifices?
ARPIT: Aw, damn. You're right... well, i guess i can wait.
BLOODBATH: For what?
ARPIT: You know. The healing.
BLOODBATH: Oh... um...

Arpit's arms fall off, followed by his head, whereupon his legs collapse under his limbless torso. There is surpisingly little blood, and what blood there is, glows.

BLOODBATH: Now kids, don't do what Arpit did. Never. Not even if it looks good, the "milkshake" and the "not listening to your friends." These are two very deceptive, and decieving, things.

WINNER! THE CONTEST FOR NAMING THE CARTOON IS OVER!!
***************************************
The lucker winner, Kristen Beaman, has won the contest. We asked a question, and she answered! We needed a suggestion for naming a cartoon character, and she suggested!

So ARPIT AND BLOODBATH it is. They'll be joining us shortly.

What does she win, kids? A brand new zebra-striped SUV with an enormous embossing of her face on the hood and a big shark fin on the roof! And look, the horn plays that new 50cent song! Wow!

And thanks to all you people who tried to leave a comment in the little comment box but didn't. Better luck next time.

Sunday, February 1

i hung out with these guys last night. they were all older than me by a few years, and were way more of everything than me. they do more drugs, drink more alchohol, have more sex, and read the bible more than i have. i've never even read the bible.

then tonight i was with my two doctor friends. they have their phd's in solar panel technology and some sort of film criticism, respectively. these guys do way less drugs, alcohol, and bible reading than i do. but dr. jason has a girlfriend, though he did describe her as a "bulldozer."

and now i'm tired from all the celbrations of relations.