Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Post #300: The best of Fantasy Writer Guy?

Okay, so the whole best-of-worst-of milestone idea was a bit of a flop but I’m knee deep in it now so let’s just get it over with and get on with our lives again, shall we?

So if you’ll permit me the terrible indulgence – a reposting of some of the more noticeable moments over the last 299 articles:

From the poetry collection:
Smashing on the dash

[Apologies to any churchgoers. This is bound to insult though its only initial intent was to poke fun at the Jesus Face Finders who turn up regularly in the news and in the excellent blog of Flumadiddle - to whom this poem was dedicated.]

Are you weary of that dreary little priest and all his chanting?
Would you rather skip his blather or at least dissolve his ranting?
Do you wonder does he fiddle with those little alter lads?
Does this standing-sitting-kneeling numb the feeling from your ‘nads?

Are you one to trace a face in such a place as bathroom walls?
Does your Lord appear to leer at you from tiles in bathroom stalls?
When your bag of peases freezes is that Jesus in their midst?
Is that Mary on your derriere or just a hairy cyst?

Is that Moses striking poses in the soup stain on your table?
Do you find these sightings frightening? Are you mentally unstable?
Do you crave your savior such that your behavior has gone rash?
When your campfire has expired is His image in the ash?

Are you stressing and confessing that these blessings make you sour?
Will these preacher’s teachings reach you when you face your final hour?
Do you fear to not adhere, lest it clear your path to hell?
Well don’t worry ‘bout God’s fury. This is what I’m here to tell.

There are better beasts than priests at least, to give your soul to steer.
There are better pests than pederasts to whom to lend your ear.
There are better ways to spend your days than slumping in a pew.
There are better things to do, it’s true and here are but a few:

Go roam the streets of Rome. Maybe try to grope the pope.
But don’t get caught at that a lot. They’ll swing you from a rope.
Let’s go stumble through the jungle. Let’s go slashing through the gash.
Go sloshing down to Washington. Go crashing Bush’s bash!

Is the bible really viable? Let us spin a better story.
We’ll drive Beemers with blasphemers down the road to purgatory.
Take that auto Colorado bound where fashion’s unabashed,
Where that faggard, Teddy Haggard lives. He’s stashing all the cash!

Read a little Flumadiddle while laughing off your ass.
Try some Eeeeekkk or Magnet Freak. Their chatter is a gas.
Take a toke or snort some coke. Try mashing up your hash.
Let’s fill craters full of ‘taters. We’ll go splashing in the mash!

Leap the brink and sink a drink. Go thrashing up a splash.
Jump the hump into the dump. Go dashing through the trash.
Drop your hoard below the board. Go lashing down the stash.
Buy a ChristBud from the Price Club. He’ll look smashing on your dash!

From the FWG’s nuggets o’ wisdom collection:

If life hands you water, sugar, glucose-fructose, citric acid, potasium sorbate, sodium hexametaphosphate and acacia gum - make lemonade.

The best (or worst) of Steve-o:

What brain? The only thing in his head is a squirrel jerking off with a Sears catalogue.

What’s with Baldie McPluckinheimer over there?

You know how first-dates are. We mostly just talked about anal butt plugs.

When I was just a little boy

I asked my mother, what will I be?
Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?
Here’s what she said to me.
Que sera sera
You’ll grow a comb moustache
And build an empire of hate and greed
And kill many Jews
Que sera sera…

You know you look like hell when homeless people start throwing you change.

Last week on Prison Break,

My nut-sack is on fire.

Wait ‘til she gets a load of my purple-headed yogurt slinger!

You know where that show ‘Bananas in Pajamas’ came from? Some guy woke up with a woody and his daughter said “What’s that?” and he said “Oh, that’s just a banana in my pajamas” and she told all her friends and angry parents were calling him up saying “What the hell’s this I’m hearing about this pajama banana business!” and he said “Oh! Oh – it’s just a TV show I’m working on!” so then he had to make the TV show. I’ll bet you anything that’s exactly what happened.

Don’t ever walk into a silversmith’s shop with a jar full of silverfish and ask him to melt them down and make a ring for you. They just look at you funny.

The jig juice is coming out all over the place! Hold on to your jig juice, chicken!

Hush little baby. Don’t say a word.

Mama’s gonna buy you a smiling turd.

Individually wrapped bacon is good for your heart.

Individually wrapped bacon won't make you fart.
'Cause it's not beans! It's not beans.
Individually wrapped bacon is not beans!

Peameal and bacon
And boys like Troy Aikman.
The fuhrer's in Kleinburg planning extradition
He's gonna kill Tom Hanks 'cause he didn't like Road to Perdition.

It's like that bathroom candle. That thing was powerful. It could cover up anything. We could have murdered someone in that bathroom and it would have covered it up. The CSI guys wouldn't even have figured it out - except they'd probably find some kind of insects. Ah, yes, the coabular dissenteria bugs. Those coabular dissenteriasts only infest bathrooms where someone has been killed by a knife and sodomized. Okay, now bring out the light gun. The light gun that can see through time...

Why do people watch ultimate fighting? I'd rather watch ultimate knitting. At least they'd have weapons.

What do we need school busses for? We should just use a pneumatic tube system to suck the kids to school. The trick of course is to strap down their lunches securely. No one wants to have to clean stray lunches out of the tube network. That's the only reason it hasn't been done before.

Man, my couscous is hotter then shit. It's made out of Satan's anal sphincterola. "What's this?" says the devil. "Someone's scraped a layer off my anal sphincterola."

He has to learn to keep his trouser snake in his - ah - trouser village. You know - with the trouser village people.

Have you seen my Contagious Penis medicine?

Uh oh. Here comes the Kumquat Vag Squad.

Where’s your Halloween costume? You don’t have one? Why don’t you go as Mister Belvedere then? You don’t even need to dress up. Just go around saying, ‘Hello Wesley!’ Try it. ‘Hello, Wesley!’

Midgets have glowing sex. When they orgasm it shines like the birth of a star. That’s why some little people have great tans. They’re the best lovers.

What’s with that cashier? Did you hear her freak out on that guy? “SIR! SIR! You don’t have to put both cases on the belt! Just one, please! My arms are getting bigger than my husband’s! I squeezed his dick right off! Popped it open like a Pez dispenser!”

Most recommended movies:

Little Miss Sunshine
The Big Lebowski
Pan’s Labyrinth
I am Legend
Children Underground
The Last King of Scotland
Into the Wild
Pursuit of Happyness

Most recommended books:

Gently Down the Stream
Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy
After the Plague and Other Stories
The River Why
Under Satan’s Sun
The Stand
The Lord of the Rings
The Long Walk
The Screaming Room
The Five People You Meet in Heaven
The Road
The Alchemist

From the Ask FWG, Not Jeeves collection:

Best Google searches that lead unsuspecting readers here:

oink moo cock-a-doodle-doo barbecue sauce
Try aisle 5 – Should be right next to the HeeHaw-Ribbit donkeyfrog sauce.

cowboy coffee kamloops jesus
Krazy brand. That’s right. When in Kamloops, Jesus drinks Krazy brand cowboy coffee, ground fresh by real Kamloopian mountain cowboys. Because nobody grinds like a mountain cowboy.

streetsville crazy people
Please refine your search. All people in Streetsville are crazy.

pianos mavis eglinton
Well – I know there’s a Dollar n’ Value store at Mavis and Eglinton but I think they only sell tiny miniature pianos – suitable for 12-inch pianists.

canadarm taking off
1. Fully extend arm away from space shuttle.
2. Remove bolts E and F using hex wrench provided.
3. Pull Canadarm socket housing away from shuttle wall.
4. Plug holes E and F with chewing gum to prevent precious oxygen from leaking into space. Or if Dutch, use your fingers.

chinese apetizer with herbs and spices
What is Kung Foo Noodles. Things you slurp into your mouth for 200, Alex!

extreme rubber fantasy hospital
Ah, yes. One of my favorite daytime soaps. In this week’s episodes, Ryan and Candace filed for divorce, Mrs. Carbuncle was diagnosed with uvula cancer, Kevin James learned that his favorite prostitute is actually his presumed-dead cousin and Mary-Anne’s left ear turned into a ball peen hammer. There you go. You’re caught up.

Ontario Geography in simple words

How not to write a fantasy novel
There are many many wrong ways to write a fantasy novel. This is just one:
Once upon a time there was a woman named Sheila who worked in the Department of Taxation and Excise. She liked to eat Chicken Noodle Soup for lunch. One day she stuck some of her soup noodles up her nose and stomped around the office growling and shouting, “I AM THE KRAKEN!”. Her coworkers panicked. She looked like a real kraken. So they beat her to death with their staplers and three-hole-punches and drank her blood. The end.
This is actually some excellent literature. The only problem is – it’s too short. You’d have to include about 200 pages describing the soup. Use simple words like “watery”.

guy noples
They’re mostly the same as girl noples but much more difficult to squeeze milk out of.

"jack handy" "deep thoughts" pickle jar
Yes. It’s true. Jack stores all his deep thoughts in pickle jars. Sometimes he has a hard time getting them out. He tries to stab them with a fork and the damn things just bob around, you know? It’s exasperating.

kung foo dialogue
I can’t provide the entire kung foo dictionary contents in this space but here are the top 10:
- YAA!
- Ouch!
- Ow, my hand!
- Oh shit, was that REAL wood?
- Time out! I’m losing my drawers here.

Okay! We’re done. We can go get on with our lives again…


Anonymous said...

Happy 300th! I am happy to have stumbled across your blog, I really am. Hi Fives! hehehehe

Babs Gladhand said...

Happy 300th post! I agree that Smashing on the Dash was brilliant. BRILLIANT, I say and still the only poem I've had dedicated to me.