Wednesday, April 02, 2003
I am as a god. Army of Fun is now averaging like eighteen hits a day and I never look at it anymore myself and barely even post to it. And still you come. And are often disappointed. Yet still you come.
To celebrate this monumental mile-stone I believe I'll contribute more to the economy by buying if not more stuff then more expensive stuff. Hopefully, my actions will help stave of the coming world recession. To start with I think I'll get myself some better quality home-furnishings. This means I'm going to stop buying stuff mail order from Cracker Crate & Bigot Barrel, or as it's known in TX, WI, AL and DE FUBUFANNDBANND (For Us By Us For Aryan Nazis Not Darkies By Aryan Nazis Not Darkies (and yes there are intellectual property issues)), an operation out of Idaho.
Now I know several of my pretend long-time readers are asking how it is someone with such a resplendent, pan-global ethnic and national heritage, including Lunda, Yanomami, Icelandic, Ethiopian, Polynesian, Dutch, Micronesian, Ainu, Italian, Hmong, Saami (that's Lapplander for the less aware readers out there), Yoruba, Turk and Lichtensteiner could buy home furnishings made by Nazi children and their doughy visaged Nazi moms. Let me provide the confused with a quintessentially American answer. The stuff is cheap and of reasonable quality for the price. But what about all the horrible things I'm supporting by buying CCBB products. Well, I also own a car and my trust-fund consists entirely of stocks in aero-space corporations (sky-rocketing by the way) so what are you going to do. Don't get me wrong, I won't miss the lamps that spout anti-semetic rants in a bad fake German accent, or a couch that occassionally goes on and on about pickaninnies, or the end tables and their constant warnings to be alert against the rising tide of the yellow peril. Plus it's always nice just to have new stuff.
And okay I'll admit it. This upcoming buying spree not just or, even really, about saving the economy. What with the SARS and the impending outbreak of World War Three (following the US invasion of Syria and Syria's subsequent attack on Israel) we're all going to be dropping like a bunch of Iraqis in a van so why bother saving.
Fyrste, 8:01 PM
Tuesday, April 01, 2003
Celine Dion keeps appearing to me in dreams lately. Now, normally that statement would be total bullshit like 74.7% of this blog, Army of Fun, usually is, but this time i swear it's true. She drives into my dreams in swooping, elegant ess-es just like she does in that commercial of hers they show right before movies to get everyone pumped and primed, or perhaps the other way round, for the upcoming entertainment, except in the case of my dreams her painfully accented messages to me are the entertainment.
She comes to me in my dreams and asks questions like, "Are you ever going to post about your trip to DC?"
I say yes, it's just that I'm very busy of late and my notes are kind of confusing and I don't know if i should be witty or serious.
"Bouf," she says. "That is not the issue. i do not think you should ever write it. It is un-American and therefore evil."
I point out that she is in fact un-American being Canadian and all, and in any case she can't stop me.
"Sacre blew, I am more American than you are," she says. "Who fled oppression into the waiting arms of opportunity, eh? Who now lives in vegas the true spiritual capital of the united Statesers? As for my ability to stop you, i have more power than you can imagine. as a warning I shall cause your shift key to intermittently stick."
And, intermittently stick it does. and now, I am very afraid. But in the dream I stood up to her bullying.
'Oppression?' I said. 'you're a canadian.'
"Poutine head,' she replied. i don't know what that means but i will guess it is insulting. "Poutine head, have you never heard of socialized medicine or of the restrictions on imported american entertainments? What need have i of communist health care as I am inexplicably wealthy? What need have i of restrictions on entertainments when i am so monumentally talented? Now i keep my American money in an off-shore account and i am free."
Celine took my silent shock at such stupidity as assent.
"See, you have no answer. I have made you a better american. Now you will not so cavalierly mock our nation during wartime. also I command you not to take part in the mocking of the Cheney's sponsored by the execrable tea-bagger Neal Pollack. i don't know how you could even contemplate it considering your friendship with them."
"But they're funny," I say. "Dick, he has like heart attacks all the time. He eats sausage made from babies and washes it down with their blood and is always surrounded by pace-makers. why, I even have it on good authority that he recently died for what would have been for good if Bill Frist hadn't been able to re-animate him using techniques first perfected on kitties. Of course as a side effect he now tries to skull-fuck everyone he sees with his push-button penis, but every procedure has it's down sides.
"And Lynne. Well i happen to know from personal experience that Lynne is a serial groper of young men and boys. I was at a party at their place once and i had to go to the bathroom. well, lynne was outside the bathroom and claimed it was occupado. then she grabbed my package with her right hand and pressed her left against my bladder. I asked her what the hell she was doing. She said it was just a little fun, a little joke. i said hah-hah Lynne very funny now let me go. She said she would...but not until she felt a little dribble. Ha-ha Lynne I said, I'm not pissing myself for you. she said she wasn't joking anymore and pushed harder. Luckily someone else came to use the bathroom just then and she let me go, telling me to just go use the can, there wasn't anyone in the bathroom actually but she'd get her dribble sometime. When I got downstairs my good friend george p (bush) pulled me aside and said 'hey man, never go to the bathroom unless you can see lynne around. she's into wierd stuff.' 'Like grabbing your dick and pushing on your bladder," i said? 'Yeah, how'd you know...oh, sorry.' 'yeah,' I said and told him how it went down. 'You're lucky man. Once she gets her 'dribble' she'll rub up against you til she climaxes. and by the way, i'd avoid the silver spring (md) greyhound station if i were you. she hangs out there a lot to get her wierd fix on and i hear it can ger real wet and ugly.' Thanks for the tip Pay', I said cause I often call him that, Pay, the Spanish for P."
Then, in my dream, Celine slaps me.
"That is what I am saying about," she says. "You must never reveal those things to anyone. That is mockery. That is insolence.
"Now sing with me 'America the Beautiful'"
And i do because she's twisting my arm.
Surprisingly we sound pretty good together. Unsurprisingly, I am the better singer. But i get my come-uppance when at the end just as we hit the shining in 'from sea to shining sea' she hocks a loogie right into my mouth.
Fyrste, 7:53 AM