Hey all you silly bastards!
Yep, you guessed it, it’s story time!!
Today’s installment is a sort of auto-biography (that means it’s about me, ya dumbass). But I’m going to write in the third person, ’cause I can, so eat that!
It’s about a large valley girl that likes MTV (Motivational Therapy for Virgins) and has a wee wee instead of a yum yum. You heard me! A wee wee!
“Aww crap, do I really have to,” said roblestheclown
“YES! I AM DAVEPOOBOND! YOU CANNOT DISOBEY ME, FOR I HAVE JELLO IN MY EAR!” replied the very drunk Aussie, davepoobond.
“OK, OK, just make sure you pay me in monopoly money this time, cause last time…IT WAS FRIGGEN REAL! I HATE REAL MONEY, CAUSE EVERY BILL HAS A BIG STUPID PICTURE OF A DEAD GUY! THEY JUST PISS ME OFF DAVE!”
“……….Fine, but this story HAS to involve flying curtains that snore!”
Anyway, back to the funny stuff.
Attack of the Communist Sideburns
One day, as Eddie (my nickname that I made up for myself because I have no friends) was walking down the street towards the zoo, he saw something scary, something very, very scary. A vase. Now you might say, if you were actually reading this, “Hey Eddie, vases arn’t scary. You must be stupid!” Well, this vase was no ordinary vase: it had a picture of Saddam Husein wearing a pretty pink tutu doing a pirouette while balancing on a 2 pound slab of veil(you know, baby cows). Now, tell me thats not scary and ill beat your grandma…thats more like it.
“AH!” exclaimed Eddie, after he saw Saddam wink at him from the vase. “HEY! Don’t scream at my vase, it’s very sensitive!”
“Oh, sorry old man Herpes, but it winked at me.”
“…mmmmmm…i have eight watches…none of them arefake.”
“Oh,…..good….for….you…Yea, I gotta go, you know, MTV!” Eddie replied happily.
“Damn virgins” mumbled Herpes.
So, instead of going to the zoo to laugh at all the old people that fall into the crocodile pits, Eddie went to his hourly MTV session. MTV is what Eddie lives for. Literally. Every hour he has to go to the doctor inside the MTV place for tequilla shots, with a needle, not a shot glass, or else he will implode. Once he gets his shots, he goes to his MTV class, quite convenient if you ask me, a two-fer so to speak.
In these MTV classes, Eddie learns about why being a virgin has its ups and downs. The downs: you havent had sex yet, people make fun of you, you suck. The ups:…uhh…well…there aren’t really any ups, they just say that to make it cool, ups and downs. Beacause if it just said downs, then no one would want to be a virgin. After that, they go around in a circle, explaining how smoking crack only makes you a crack whore, and no one likes them. Well, maybe crack pimps, but this story is not about them.
But the main reason Eddie watches MTV is for Tom Green, Andy Dick, Jackass, and…oh, wait, wrong MTV. Sorry about that. The main reason Eddie goes to MTV is because they serve virgin margaritas with those cool little umbrellas and a side order of ketchup, which also comes with an umbrella.
After a session one day, Friday, February 13, 1999 to be exact, Eddie spontaneously said, “I like to eat marijuana brownies through my ass!” Most of the virgins in there gasped, then thought about it, nodded their heads, and applauded. All of them in fact, except Gary the Constipated Virgin. She thought it was very cruel to make fun of her being constipated. Even though Eddie didn’t directly make the joke about her, she was very sure he was talking about her, beacuase she’s constipated, and stupid.
So, when Eddie left, after he excitedly stated, “I have a wee wee instead of a yum yum!! AHAHAHAHA!!!”, Gary followed him home, saw which room he slept in, and threw a brick into his window, smacking him in the head, and making him fall, unconcious, with no hair.
Eddie woke up 10 seconds later somewhere in the vicinity of Nebraska, with hair again. To make matters worse, his pants had been replaced with a neon sign stapled to him, saying “I hate you.” He had only one choice: walk. Walk where, he didn’t know, but there was a giant sea tortoise that went by him and told Eddie to walk, or it would pee on him. So he walked. And walked. And walked, and walked, and walked. And every time he walked through a city, at least one person in every city would throw a bucket of water on him, electrocuting him. It also lowered his sperm count but thats not our problem.
“Wash my couch!”
“What?!” queried Eddie.
“I said, wash my couch! ya dumbass” said Harold theRocketship.
“NO!” Eddie said.
“Damn virgins,” murmured Harold.
“…FUCK AUTHORITY!…oh shit, sorry, I was just gettin into my music, but damn this backstreet boys CD rules!”
“I’m the Squackle censor, and you have violated the rules that you agreed to.”
“What? Squackle doesn’t have any censors. Look, FUCK, SHIT, ASSHOLE, DICKFACE, STUPID COCK-PUMPER, GAY ARABIAN CAMEL RAPIST THAT LOVES TO EAT HAIR AND SKIN WHILE SNIFFING SQUIRREL PISS! See, no bleeps, well, except that one.”
“Sir, we dont bleep, we enforce fucked up words, and you have yet to say the following: soul train, Marilyn Manson, bong toker, smelly back disease, and beef. Since you have not complied with these terms, you will die.”
“Oh, OK…wha wha, wait…that’s illegal isn’t it?”
“No, not here. You see, here at Squackle, we can do anything we want. We say what we want, we tell people whatever we want, and we kill whoever we want, without any repercussions.”
“But, how the hell did you guys get such a good deal?!”
“Well, two words: Dave’s high. And since dave is high, the government doesn’t like dealing with him, because they think Squackle is ‘A site full of crap and we don’t want to look through all that crap for illegal things’, also…Dave’s high.”
“Oh, oh yeah! Well, bye!”
Eddie finally made it to a city that looked like it sold pants, so he looked around, and found a store, called “Pants and Pink Pudding.” Eddie liked pink pudding, so he went in and bought a smiley face sticker, stuck it on his face and went back home.
Once back home, Eddie went door-to-door, telling eveyone, individually, about his adventure. But, after the thrid person, he was punched by a mysterious man that just happened to be the man he was talking to. When he woke up in the hospital, all he could say was, “Like, wut-everrrrrrrrrr!” ::does the wutever w with hands::
Oh yea, I knew this girl once, and one time she brought to show-
and-tell her flying cutains that snore. They were AWESOME!!!!!!
THE END…FOR REALZ, YO!