Moved!

Okay my peoples, pack up your things, WE’RE MOVING TO RICH UNCLE ARBUCKLE’S HOUSE.

Serisously, I write there now. It was good while it lasted. Now, get on over there!

Hot Jupiters, Batman! Bargains, straight ahead!

So it was Sunday, and I was trying to decide what to do. My options were three-fold what they usually were — 1) sleep more or 2) eat and then sleep more — because I had some extra revenue from some well placed bets at the Hobo Wrestling Circuit the night earlier (I guess I was the only one who saw that Skinny Ol’ Man Douglas had a knife). And then I get a call from my friend Sam. “Hey,” he says, “the next town up is having a huge yard sale type thing, lets go get some serious swag.”

I checked around for a few moments, and replied “Yeah, I definately don’t have enough swag. I’m in.”

Yard sales, for those of you who don’t like having money and therefore go to actual stores to buy your goods, are places where people take all the stuff they dont use anymore and throw it on their lawn so other people can take it. This is awesome for 2 reasons. 1) You find the weirdest junk, and 2) Usually the people are buried waste-high in useless garbage so they can’t run after you when you steal their good stuff.

Hence, I acquire these items:

Picture of an Awesome Boat – This picture is 3 ft tall and 2 feet wide and comes with a frame and everything. It depicts an awesome pirate ship or some jazz to that extent, and even has a little water damage for character.

Classics Illustrated – These are the same comics used by comedic legend Jay Pinkerton to make hilarious spoofs of old stories. (If you have not read the Duke of Conte Fisto, you have not yet truly seen the internet). I was lucky enough to chance upon a copy of “20 000 Leagues Under the Sea” and “The Mysterious Island”, both of which are displayed in glorious sixties-o-vision. Seriously, these are dated and fucking hilarious.

An Awsome Cane – It’s a stick, carved up so that it has a handle. I now use it to turn on my bedroom light from my computer chair. Efficiency at its finest!

A Scanner – If anyone out there knows how to get an Epson Perfection 1250 scanner working under Windows Vista, email me. Seriously, I have pictures of boobs and Zeus and stuff I want to scan in and this whole driver shit is keeping me from doing it.

Various Medias(?) – I got various CDs, including the album East, by New Age Jazz Fusing something group Hiroshima. I also found UHF, the Weird Al movie, on VHS.

Thats about it. I also got a bunch of pins, the best of which says “Eato Bandito” on it, but those will be for later maybe.

The Rap Community Strikes Back! (With promises of love!)

My recent post, entitled Uncle Von Crackenstein’s Opinion on the Modern Muse, seems to have shaken the rap community in more ways than I could have thought possible. Despite the numerous mentions it received from the latest gangsta’ rap magazines and it’s appraisal as The Most Precise Representation of The Downfall of Society at Large, several fans of the surprisingly still-around genre were enraged to hear the true meaning behind the words of their greatest hero, the suave Chameleonaire. And surely enough, after spending a couple weeks poolings their thoughts and ideas, the rap community has finally lashed out and showed me who’s who.

From this, we learn several things:

- The comment was left by Chamillion, which is a distinct 5 letters different from the artist in the former post. This leads me to believe that this person was perhaps using some form of the internet that charges for every character inputted, and they were trying to save money.
- Mr. Chamillion seems to think I am a negro, when in fact I am not. Being that there are no pictures on this website of myself, and that I did successfully translate the most rip-roarin’ of rhymes, I suppose I can see why he’d think this.
- Mr. Chamillion seems to have taken a sexual interest in me, which is flattering, but disturbing.

A visit to his website, http://website/ is apparantly malformed (a typo perhaps?), and my attempts to send him an email failed (it would seem that ass@cunt.com is not accepting messages at this time).

If any of you know Mr. Chamillion, please tell him that, once again, I am flattered but uninterested. Thanks.