Yes more stories just what I wanted for Christmas
Yes, even more stories to fill your corrupt little mind. And gaining more popularity people are already trying to copy my page...unsuccessfully. Perfect examples of this are Q-czar's and the Jews sites, which I have links to on here (but the fun part is finding where). When? Oh, when will people realize that they will never be as great as I. They may try and I shall let them but they shalln't ever be as great as my site. Of course there are some acceptions. By some I mean one and only one, Maddox. You other people can't type and probably shouldn't be allowed to have a computer. The Jew's site is cram full of typos and it takes me a half-an-hour just to find out what it says. And Q-Czar all I can say is you try, and you get an A for effort. You'd pull ahead if we were in kindergarten. Then again, if we were in kindergarten we'd have trouble remembering to keep our bowel movements in the toilet and not in our pants and we'd be sitting in the corner crying all day. Maybe the latter was just me. Well, the other thing people are saying is "Why don't you write a story about this?" or "Why don't you write a tory about that?" and "Whay don't you write a story about Star Crunch?" which I might add are delectably delicious. Well, let me just tell you I write for quality not quantity. So, I may have only six stories but they're all wonderfully fulfilling (too me at least). Realizing that this story had no random act of violence I punched the cat. The only reason this isn't a story is because I can't think of a picture for it.
Volkswagon, now that equals smart
I hope everybody could note the sarcasm in that. I hate the new commercial for that new car they have out. I don't even know the name of it I think it's like Tournegro. Those racist bastards. Anyway, they have new commercials for this car and the sales pitch is pretty much this "Our other cars suck, but this one is ok," and do you know why it's ok? Because it can go through a puddle. You would think that that would come standard with all cars. Maybe a Government Restriction is in order. You know like all cars must be able to go through three inches of water just in case "It rains" that's a direct quote because in the commercial the first VW crap-mobile had hit a bit of water and the driver was mangled and the vehicle was burning and the guy died because he wore his seatbelt and it got twisted around his neck, but don't worry it wasn't twisted around his neck too tight it just restricted his breathing so he couldn't breath normally, the guy eventually died after six and a half hours of pure torture. But, it's OK because he wore his seatbelt. Stupid Ohio I'm just showing a scenario that could happen if everboy wears his seatbelt. Well, there's no doubt that the guy who died went out screaming and since there were two people in the car one got severly traumitized. But, he didn't do anything because he was a Bush supporter and therefore too stupid to know how to unbuckle a seatbelt. And the only thing the Bush Fan could say was must have rained. Well, this guy wound up killing himself and I was ecstatic at this news because it means one less retard. And it was sheer brillance seeing as how everybody who likes Bush are avid members of the NRA he held his gun the wrong way and fired instantly blowing his head off but what was unsuspected is that after that his dead body was lying there it burst into flames because Bush sympathizers are so idiotic that they don't know basic laws of physics. So, back to the story, next comes VW's new car and it goes into 4-wheel drive and just barely makes it past this little two-inch puddle. That's where the commercial ends, but what you don't see is Big Ball, Eskimo the Hoe, and I in BBQ's '90 Carolla going past the orginal crash site flipping off the corpse, respect the dead my ass. So, we caught up to the Volkswagon that after that huge struggle with the puddle is going about 3 miles an hour. How, do you like that Volkswagon? Benson can catch up to you. So, Quindlin and I turn into Ninja's and break out our kitanas on his "special" VW driving ass. Realizing that I needed something new to killing I found one of those steel wool brillo pads and gouged the man's eye out with it. Standing there laughing at him bleeding to death was really the best moment of my....uh.....week. Germens should only be allowed to make sports cars. Whoever made this sales pitch up really broke the mold, so I took the mold maker out into the street and shot him.......repeatedly. And yes I know the picture is crappy.
Socialism is OK in my book
Well, apparently my natural charm won somebody over because I have a girlfriend now. And she is Russian or wishes she was. Which,made me really think over this whole socialism thing. And I came to the conclusion that it wasn't so bad. Everybody gets paid the same no matter how good they ar eat thir job. Or how much experience they have. You don't even have to pick your own career. It's kind of like Six Flags. No matter how much better at my job I am then somebody else we all get paid the same and we don't get any opinion of what we do. So, I figure our government should go communist. I mean Six Flags has its down parts. But I wouldn't mind the whole country being a big amusement park and since I thought of the idea i figure I should be supreme dictator over all. My right hand man would of course be the Halo-God Himself. Don't like the idea? Well, come talk to me at my throne made out of diamonds (with gold cussions of course, I don't want my ass in pain get in the way of my dictatoring). Of course somebody i sgoing to get in my way damn hippies. So, we'll conduct some "medical tests" and I have a feeling they'll shut up. Tests like if we starve a four Great White Shark for ten days in a seven square foot tank then throw one of these whiny pansies in the tank with an open wound how long will it take him to die and which shark will get the most meat. Or a test that involes a rat rap, mayonaise, and a rusty tetnus filles pole. I'll figure out the details to that one later. My first order of business will be to kill all the old people. I wont just straight out kill them of course when thay turn 65 I'll give them a 100 point test and there will be a guy there with a shotgun and one wrong answer and boom. Just in case some body passes the first 99 questions the last question will be a trick question. And these people wont get shot right there they obviously deserve a prize. So, on once every four years on February 29, to celebrate my birthday, there will be a big banquet. Everyone who got the first 99 questions will be invited. In the middle of the meal I'll let loose a barrel of rabid chipmunks with AIDS of the mouth. And watch the hilarity ensue from the big screen plasma TV. In, my mansion which will be all of Rhode Island. I've always wanted a big screen plasma TV. I know what you're thinking what if some people don't go? Then, me personally will go to there villiages (because socialism doesn't have any cities which shall be dubbed "villiages of the oppressed" by me, and they wont have there own name just numbers like Villiage of the Oppressed 174. If I catch anyone who doesnt address it as this or just uses the number they will be shot on sight teach them to disrespect my name of there villiage) then I'll round up the whole villiage and anybody who is related to them and kill the old bastard with my trusty nickle which has never guided me wrong. I'll cut him with it. And when this happens all four TV stations will show live coverage. Then after the blood bath I'll invite the relatives who were there to "an after slaughter drink" and just laugh meniacally if they ask why the next time that person blinks they wont have a head when they open their eyes. I do still carry my kitana with me. Well, my second order of business I'll have my tusty minions interview every child andey are found even remotely annoying they will get killed via attack of frisby. Well, onto my "assistant dictator" just to show you that I made the right choice here is a sample of a a random converstion on the street. "but daddy i dont wanna live in the cess pool" "well son, the assistant dictator is taking all of our money for his ferrari so we'll have to make due with what we have" "but dad-" "THATS ENOUGH SON, YOU SAW WHAT THEY DID TO OLD MAN HIGGINS WHEN HE ASKED FOR A QUARTER TO CALL HIS AUNT ALBERTA, they drew and quartered him right in the town square, i must say his raw human flesh is a step above our regular meal consisting of our own fecal matter." I don't know what they're bitching about I love the taste of my own fesces. I then made the boy and his father bathe in my fesces and eventually had El Traffico Cono (the assistant dictator) drown them in it. Yeah, he loved it so much he got a nice big lungful of it. Wow, that is without a doubt my most violent story ever. Thanks for the inspiration in this story Nate Dogg and the exerpt from That Dumb Kid you know his name.