Trampling all over your sense of reality, breaking into your homes and playing tic-tac-toe with your sanity, and just making you wake up screaming in the middle of the night is getting far too easy, and quite frankly,  I’m so very bored.  My psychiatrist was telling me that I might need make the whole thing more challenging.  And then I pushed him down a flight of stairs.  I never trusted the sanctity of the doctor-patient privilege.  Death is a more permanent way of keeping secrets.  Needless to say, I saw the doctor again on my way out of the building and he didn’t seem to be feeling too well.

I know that you frequently look in your fridge and find things missing.  Now, I’m sure that you pass it off as a brain fart or the midnight munchies by another member of your household.  Well, I can assure you that it is neither of those things.  It was the Fridge Gremlin.  That little bastard has been robbing everyone blind ever since humans found a way to store food safely. And we totally let him.  Hell, he’s under contract for it. If you’ve found that he is frequently hitting your household, you should know that you can make your own fridge guard.

To do so, take a nice gallon of milk, drink it until it’s about halfway done, and leave it in the fridge until it’s about to expire.  Then, add in some swine flu, a socket wrench, and some pork fried rice (without MSG) from six months ago, shake it up really well and leave it in a sunny spot to stew. You’ll notice that the container starts to change shape.  Sometimes it’ll bow out and other times it’ll look like it’s going to implode – it really all depends on which strain of flu you added.  Whatever you do, do not release the pressure by opening the cap.  Not only will the fumes pull the nose-ring out of your lip (oooh, you’re such a rebel), it will also knock up your grandfather.  Once the limits of the container have been reached, put the concoction back in the fridge and you won’t be bothered by the Gremlin again.  Of course, there is a very good possibility that the fumes will manage to find their way through the walls of the container and contaminate the rest of the food.  Sure, your butter may eventually kill you, but your produce will be safe.

Take a long look at the floor of your closet.  Seeing more coat hangers than you ever remember purchasing?  Um, yeah, about that…  we may have accidentally dropped a few into the bunny mating frenzy pen and may have arranged for a few tainted coat hangers to ship with every package.  While I admit that it was pretty funny watching your futile efforts to unload all the extra hangers at Goodwill or the dump, it really did get monotonous to watch you freak out every single time you gathered them up to make the journey.  You’re killing me.  Just neuter them already.  Just take a hacksaw or something to that hook-like thing at the top of each of your hangers.  They’ll never multiply again.

Well, that’s all you’re getting for tonight.  I’m hoping that’ll be enough to clear out your schedules for some new things I’ve cooked up.  If it’s not, you’ll be hearing about it.

I have to admit that it’s been very entertaining watching everyone scream at each other over this whole health care debacle. No, really. I didn’t know you had it in you to get so worked up over nothing. Don’t you realize that no matter what you want or what you think is going to happen, you’re wrong? Of course you don’t, you’ve got the learning curve of a Snickers bar – and that’s being generous. And since I’m having so much fun watching you freaks sink to new lows, I’ve decided to let you in on what’s really going to happen and watch you go off into a larger tizzy.  Oh, by the way, there needs to be more finger biting.  That’s always good.

There Will Be Death Panels

Don’t let anyone tell you that there won’t be or that this is a lie generated by one faction of the enraged masses.  I’m telling you that there will absolutely, unequivocably be death panels. The Illuminati have already instituted these as part of our company-sponsored health care plan, and I can tell you that heading the death panel is the highlight of my Monday morning. Why, just last week, I told Frank that there was no need to attempt to kill the Neptunian parasite in his stomach since the forehead I installed on his backside was going to kill him out of spite first. And every third Monday of the month, we pick two people’s names out a hat and make them fight for their lives in the Girdle of Doom. Of course, no one comes out alive. Its a two-fer. We’re very efficient here, so don’t forget that.

No Insurance Premiums, Co-Pays Non-Existent

Modeled after our own internal insurance plan, all insurance will actually be free and you’ll never pay anything to see a doctor. Now, while this all sounds very expensive, I can assure you that it also won’t cost my organization a penny. This is because we’ve found ways to pick your pockets clean with all sorts of other trumped up money-suckers including “inflation” and “food.” And we’re doing such a good job of it that we have an enormous surplus in the “free money” fund. Lest you think that we’re being nice by letting you use what is essentially “your” money, you need to keep in mind that we’re not nice.  Shame on you!

Something About an Egyptian River

Under the current system, insurance companies deny recommended procedures with no apparent rhyme or reason.  Not us.  We firmly feel that you should know why your claim was denied.  But don’t think that we’d waste our time writing you a letter or phoning you up to tell you that reason.  Oh, no.  We like to have a bit of flare, so you’ll find out moments after your doctor does…right before the procedure.  You may even be sedated at the time.  It’s really not my problem.

So, here it is:  your claim will be processed using the “Eeny Meeny Miny Mo” method.  This will help keep our costs low because we’re not spending minutes reading your claims and are instead spending mere seconds denying them. I love my job.

Cool New Procedures

R&D had a great idea.  You see, we’re always looking for unsuspecting victims willing participants to our medical experiments and with better access to you guys, we’ll have them.  Now when you go in for a new kidney, you might come out with a brand new elbow-nose.  Don’t say we never give you anything.  Just, um, don’t sneeze. By combining legitimate procedures with sadistic ones, we can save loads of money in the fund and use it to “treat” more people.

Resign to Your Fate

You really don’t have a choice in the matter, so it’s best if you just accept this.  So I’m going to tell you not to accept it.  I want to see more marches on Washington, more unhinged rants, and more yelling, and more ignoring.  Now get to it.  I’ve got popcorn popping so you don’t have much time.

One important aspect of my job is determining the effect of our actions on the morale of the unsuspecting public.  Recently, we tried to use complex emotional and developmental algorithms, but that required the computing power of the human brain and it turns out that the human brain isn’t much more powerful than a thousand horny lemmings.  And if I wanted to train a thousand horny lemmings to sit in the corner of my office and bleep and bloop like an arcade game, I would have gotten married.

So, we decided that it would be best to kick it old school, or what have you.  That’s right, we managed to revitalize the “Angry Villager Feedback System.”

If you were lucky enough to remember the last time we instituted AVFS, you’ll fondly recall the astounding heights of terror it achieved before the program came crashing down around itself.  You see, the major problem with angry villagers is that one will cannibalize others to increase mental capacity and logical thinking skills.  This will enable that one to rise to a position of power and lead an (unsuccessful) uprising.  But we’ve made several improvements to the program.

While the previous uprisings were beaten back with minimal bloodshed of anyone except interns, they are particularly annoying.  Like that time I had to keep running some guy down with my car.  It wasn’t my fault, really.  If he had just resigned himself to death instead of constantly getting back up, I wouldn’t have had to back over him thirteen times.  Can you imagine how much that grated on my nerves?  Well, the uprisings are the same way.  So, when I thought about restarting the program, I knew I had to find a solution to this nonsense.  R&D offered up the use of their experimental shrink ray (they’re still trying to figure out why it will sometimes only shrinks the genitalia), which reduces the villagers to convenient pocket-size.  This cuts back on the chance of losing more of those useless interns.

And in a bit of serendipity, the new size makes them suitable for public sale.  That’s right!  For just $2,499.99, you can now own your very own set of pocket villagers.  It may seem like a high price at first, but once you realize the value, you’ll know it’s a steal.  Quite literally.  Illuminati Pocket Villagers were bred from authentic stock plucked from the annals of history.  Many are missing teeth, cannot read, and hump their sister’s leg without warning.  You just can’t mimick that kind of inbred behavior, and trust me when I say that we’ve tried.

But what can you use the Pocket Villagers for?  Management decisions, of course!  Thinking about cutting out health insurance for your employees?  Run it past the villagers to see how your employees will react!  Want to initiate a massive layoff?  Let the villagers in on your secret!  You’ll know you’ve made the right decision when they try to light your desk on fire!

Not in a management position at work?  You can employ the villagers to terrorize your co-workers.  Is your cube-partner annoying you by clicking his pen too much?  Use the villagers to secretly remove the clicker after working hours.  Your boss cut health insurance?  Use the villagers to light his desk on fire!  Remember to blame the janitor!

But what if you’re unemployed?  Never fear, we take food stamps, welfare checks, unemployment checks, fuel assistance, and SSI/SSDI.  And if you think that just because you don’t have a job that you don’t need the villagers, you’ve got to remember that you’re always wrong.  There are lots of things they can do for the gainfully unemployed!  Why, they can get you an ice cold beer from the fridge and it’s like watching Easter Island come to fruition, so you’ll be entertained while you wait.  Don’t like your neighbor’s dog?  Just tell your villagers that it’s a wicked beast sent from below to encourage rampant homosexuality.  They’ll take care of that problem lickety-split.  They’re also great for picking pockets on the subway…and now you have an alternative revenue stream.

So order your Illuminati Pocket Villagers today.  And if you act now, you’ll get a video of Vince Offer beating up a hooker.  I swear we had nothing to do with that, except for making him wear his PJs for the mugshot.  You know, if he had a ShamWow and a Slap Chop (with life-partner, Graty) with him that night, he wouldn’t have any need for a hooker.

Play along, my friends, or don your tin foil beanie and pretend that I can’t reach you.

Just when I finished the last round of antibiotics, I managed to pick this up from ElfNinosMom over at Adventures In Frickintardistan.  Honey, go to the free clinic to get this taken care of before you spread it further.

Directions: Share ODD Things about you! If you opened this, FILL IT OUT! Learn 20 something things about your friends, and let them learn 20-something things about you

1. Do you like blue cheese? Only with pink cheese since it turns purple.
   
2. Have you ever smoked? One time, when some intern went ape-shit and tried to light me on fire, I smoked a bit.
3. Do you own a gun?  You mean, like, with bullets?  Are you counting gerbils as bullets?
4. What flavor Kool Aid was your favorite?  Soylent green.
5. What do you think of hot dogs? I’m thinking that you don’t know what I really put in them.
6. Favorite Christmas movie? Gremlins.  Definitely Gremlins.
7. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?  Virgin blood.
8. Can you do push ups?  Look, just tell me how many you want me to do and I’ll find a suitable intern to threaten into doing them for me.
   
9. What’s your favorite piece of jewelry?  Shock collar.
10. Favorite hobby?  Pushing Buttons.
11. Do you have A. D. D?  When you’re in charge, it’s not ADD, it’s mental multi-tasking.
12. Do you wear glasses/contacts?  I wore a dish set once in 1985.  It didn’t end well.
13. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment: My coffee doesn’t have enough sugar in it.  Why does that intern have to scream so loudly?  If he doesn’t shut up soon, I’m going to throw another cup at him.
14. Name 3 drinks you regularly? Regularly what?   Drug?  That’s easy.  Booze, coffee, tap water.
    
15. Favorite place to be? Any place where I can look down on everyone.
16. Where would you like to go? Hell, and back.  But I’ve been banned for breaking the rules, so whatever.  Lucy, the Dark Lord, is a big, fat wuss.
    
17. What color shirt are you wearing? You assume I’m wearing one.
18. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?  Only if they don’t have Wrinkles on them.  Man, that dude is creepy.
    
19. Can you whistle?  Don’t be dirty.
20. Where are you now? My favorite place.
21. Would you be a pirate?  I already am.
22. What songs do you sing in the shower? “The Song That Never Ends,” which is most notably from “Lamb Chop’s Play-Along”
    
23. What is in your pocket right now? Angry villagers with pitchforks.
24. Last thing that made you laugh?  The look on the last intern’s face as I fed him to the Wolverpus.
25. Random odd thing.  Garden gnomes fart.  Go ahead and prove me wrong.  I guarantee you’ll be hauled off  to the nuthouse before you get that far.
    
26. How many TVs do you have in your house?  House?
    

My office received word early yesterday that our very own Stephen Colbert won the contest to have the new glorified Brita/Ionic Breeze/Porta-Potty named after him.   He really needs to step up his game, though, since he only received 230,539 votes.  His following used to be much larger than that.  I’d suggest acquiring a number of Kanye West clones to worship him, but we’re still dramatically overstocked on Vince Offer clones.

Many of you are already aware that NASA can opt out of using Colbert for their space-age Porta-Potty.  We’re going to let them decide on this one.  It’s more interesting this way. But, at least if they choose the runner up, Serenity, then we have an excuse to make some poor, unsuspecting schmuck look like Nathan Fillion, hide him in a secret compartment and watch the life get sucked out him as they launch him into space.  Kind of like how I felt while watching Drive.

But not matter which way it goes, NASA will really have to give a flying crap.  And put it in orbit.

The Illuminati would like to take this opportunity to thank Stephen Colbert for being such a wonderful and loyal servant to the organization. Many years ago, Stephen contacted HQ and expressed a deep desire to belittle and control people. Naturally, this piqued our interest and we decided to see just how serious he was about all this.

First order of business was to send him down to the basement to feed the Wolverpus.  This really shows the true measure of a person.  Those authorized to bear witness to the indoctrination escorted a very young and excited Colbert to the door of the Wolverpus’ lair.  When he heard the deep, menacing growl from beyond the door, he began to protest against our initiation procedures.  Poor Stephen didn’t realize that we don’t have initiation procedures.  We make it up as we go along… and we get bored easily.  Stephen picked up on that last bit pretty quickly because we opened the door and shoved him through before he could even get the first sentence out of his mouth.

We eagerly pressed our ears to the door, hoping to  hear him crying in agony.  And we were not displeased as he whimpered and begged for a full five minutes before silence overtook the room.  Being the only person the Wolverpus won’t tear limb from limb, I entered the lair to check on our little buddy.  Oddly enough, I found them both in the corner playing pat-a-cake and enjoying a nice cold beer.  Colbert was in relatively good condition, with only a few minor gashes.

While neither the Wolverpus nor Stephen will tell us what transpired, we do know that the Wolverpus now refers to him as “Sparkles”, and that Stephen refers to the Wolverpus as “Spanky.” So, we were impressed that Sparkles managed to befriend Spanky, especially since Spanky doesn’t usually name his food.

Since it’s been centuries since anyone’s made it past the Wolverpus, we were a little hard-pressed to think of a second phase of the initiation.  We thought about pushing him down an elevator shaft and deducting points for each bone broken, but the Wolverpus almost threw a hissy-fit.

Sparkles Proudly Shows Off His Official Tattoo

So, at the Wolverpus’ behest, Sparkles was sworn in immediately and sent to the cafeteria to receive his official tattoo.

But anyway, he has been quite the loyal minion.  Through his show, he has managed to misinform, misdirect, and control the general public – and they are not only perfectly aware of this – they cheer him on!

At some point, Stephen, you will have to explain to your loyal followers that you’ve been unable to successfully grow a penis since that little accident with the pizza delivery boy last year, that you’re in love with Xenu, and that those golden eggs can be gotten from the vending machine in the lobby.  Stop sticking your arm in there.  That’s disgusting.

So congrats, Stephen.  Eventually, you may be able to earn a lifetime achievement award…but it’s highly unlikely since we only give those out to rotting corpses and we plan on keeping you around for an incredibly long time.

Those who pay any kind of attention while fast-forwarding through commercials have seen our evil little leprechaun hocking a new product.  Quite clearly, the Slap Chop is an attempt to gain favor with the Illuminati.  Now, we’ve decided not to make a decision about this based on my present mood, since doing so would most certainly see Vince get dragged behind an incontinent werewolf on a warm winter morning.  Instead, we’re going to put him on a point system and for shits and giggles, he gets to start today’s review at -666.  On with the crucifixion!

Hiding Illuminati Favors

As was pointed out in our investigation, Vince made a spectacle of his gigantic freaking hands.  Even we have to admit he’s done a better job of covering it up this time around.  Either he’s trying to make up for his blunder, or all that stuff we’ve been putting in Camera Guy’s coffee has been paying off.  At the very least its fun watching him trying to snap Vince on the ass with a wet shammy.  Did you know that Vince shrieks like a little girl?  Of course you don’t, because he doesn’t.  He shrieks like a hyena with its nuts in a vice.

+50  And I’m being charitable considering that Camera Guy did the real work here.

“You’re gonna love my nuts!”

While we’re on the topic of nuts, it’s important that we bring this up.  Vince proudly declares that we’re going to love his nuts.  Not quite, Vince.  I’ve seen your nuts, and I’m not entirely sure I even like them.  They had an attitude with me and called me names behind my back.  You can imagine how overjoyed I was when I discovered that you were going to chop your own nuts, and how utterly disappointed I was when they weren’t the nuts I was hoping for.

+600 for grossing out America by making them think of your jingle-jangles
-250 for allowing me to think that you were bold enough to dismember yourself four hundred times an hour for my entertainment
+99 for saying “You’re gonna love my nuts!” with a straight face
-150 for not following up with “Slap Chop whatever pops up!”

Less Clones

I lambasted Vincy last time for being careless with the clones we gave him, so we stopped giving him any clones.  Now Vince has to do all this marketing all by himself, meanwhile Billy Mays just placed an order for another 4000.   We’re thoroughly impressed that Vince is managing to still make a riveting commercial despite the lack of extra help.

+60 We’d be more impressed if he hadn’t used his clone privileges to go all completely frickin’ spastic with Sham Wow.

Clever Editing

Someone on Vince’s team has made great efforts to mask the ineffectiveness of the product.  Notice how you never see the whole device while it’s chopping anything.  You see the top part of the device when a hand hits it, or the bottom part when something is being chopped – but you never get to see the whole story.  Well, not exactly.  We do see the whole picture, when we’re supposedly chopping Vince’s nuts, but he manages to weasel in using the Slap Chop cover to prevent us from seeing what he’s chopping – if anything.

+75 For making it less obvious that the product isn’t as fabulous as you’d like everyone to believe
-246 For not actually chopping anyone’s nuts
-692 Because I used the Slap Chop before it was called the Slap Chop and it ruined my aim so badly that at least 32 interns narrowly escaped from flying cups of scalding hot coffee.  Bad, Vince, bad.

Slap Chop & Graty

Finding R2-D2

That’s right.  Vince found out where R2-D2 has been hiding.  Look to your right and say hello to what R2 would look like if he dressed up as a glorified waste receptacle for Halloween.  Long gone are the days where he would bail someone ass out of a bind, now he just grates cheese.   He’s also ditched  his tall, shiny, effeminate friend and has met an intriguing apparatus that strips down on command and spreads  like a butterfly.  And what guy doesn’t dream of meeting someone like that?

+62 Because we didn’t really care to find him.

Summary

Oh, cruel fate.  -666.  You’re back where you started Vince.  Try again.

The Illuminati are well aware of the controversy surrounding Obama’s Oath of office and we thought we’d take a moment to give you an idea of what went wrong, and how we fixed it.

Still bitter about McCain’s loss this past November, and not satisfied with having Vince Offer kick Obama’s ass in pageviews on this blog, the Care Bear Rebel Faction did the only thing they could do to stop Obama from taking office: call Chief Justice John G. Roberts, Jr.

Chief Justice John G. Roberts, Jr., the Giggler

You heard me.  John G. Roberts, Jr., aka “The Giggler,” works for the Care Bears.  Don’t believe me?  Check out his official photo on the right.  He’s fighting a serious case of the giggles and not from a “you smelt it, you dealt it” situation, either…nooo…these giggles are the unsuppressible kind that you get when you’ve put on over on everyone.  Don’t bother asking him about it, either.  He’ll deny everything.

Now, Roberts’ dastardly plan was to mix up only one word in the oath so that it would seem so trivial that a do-over would seem superfluous.  Unfortunately, some constitutional nerds cried “Don’t live life on the edge!  Be on the safe side!” and a do-over was scheduled for the next day.  Roberts had to act fast if he was to make this invalid oath stick.  Knowing that a do-over oath is only valid if the incoming President placed his left hand on the exact same book as the first oath, he snuck into the master bedroom of the White House and swiped Obama’s bible from the nightstand while the couple slept.  Secret Service personnel on duty at the time claim to have heard an evil giggle coming from the bedroom that night, but wrote it off as Obama shifting back into a lizard before turning in.  They’re really not very good at their job.

And so, the next day, Obama was unable to produce his bible for the do-over oath and the Giggler walks away with a big fat “Mission Accomplished.”  Once the Illuminati witnessed the lack of bible at the do-over, we knew what the Care Bears had done.

Truth of the matter is that when the oath and/or do-overs are rendered worthless, the Illuminati will usually appoint some unknown or has-been to rule in secret while the President pretends to run the country and serves as a scapegoat.  But this was a new one on us.  Never before has one of our affiliates conspired to interfere with the oath and done it so well.

So, it is with great joy in our hearts to announce that Obama has to forfeit the Presidency.  To John McCain.  You can’t complain either since he came in second at the Presidential election.  From here on in, you’ll be seeing Obama make speeches and his little public appearances like you expect, but in the off hours, he’ll be tucked away in the cellar scribbling notes on bar napkins, and mumbling about the vicious bastards we know as Care Bears.

Congratulations on your covert win, guys!

Jens over at FreeDumb of Expression brought up some good points regarding Santa, so I decided that it’s time I reveal Christmas for what it is: an Illuminati plot to make a good part of your year completely unbearable.  Or at least to those who celebrate Christmas.  Don’t worry, we’re going after Hanukkah next.

You were probably already aware of this, since they start playing Christmas music before Halloween and you don’t finish paying off your Christmas purchases until Christmas five years later.  My idea by the way, and you’re welcome.  So, now that Christmas is over, I thought I’d let you in on some well-known Illuminati secrets regarding this plight.  It won’t truly matter since by next year you’ll be too busy buying gifts for your shiftless relatives.

One of the most iconic symbols of the holiday is Santa.  Did you realize that his name is an anagram for Satan?  Bet you did.  Most kids figure that out in the third grade.  Let’s talk about his appearance for a moment.  That rosy tinge on his cheeks ain’t makeup, that’s a Rosacea blush caused by consuming too much alcohol.  And the suit?  It’s a blend of the color of your checkbook after a successful Christmas and pimp-tastic fur lining.  Makes you wonder if that sack of toys is meant for delivery or keeping his hos elves in line.  You’ll never really know.  And his beard is intended to mask his appearance as well as any robber would.  Did you ever wonder why your Benz was down a tank of gas on Christmas day?  Why drive a sleigh when you can bald the tires on an expensive car.

In addition to that, the truth that Santa teaches goes well beyond anything your kids are taught in school.  What better than an omnipotent presence who supposedly watches you all the time to teach your kids that being “nice” and listening to your parents is only contingent on whether or not someone is looking over your shoulder.  Granted, you could say that telling your kids that someone is ALWAYS watching will keep them in-line…but since you don’t say that all year long, since they get gifts regardless of their behavior, and since they don’t care about something eight months away…your threats fall on deaf ears.  But go ahead and keep teaching them that they can do whatever they want when no one is looking and rest assured that when they know that Santa isn’t looking they’ll haul your aged ass off into a crap nursing home and let you rock it out to a Charlie Brown Christmas while eating your designated slice of week old SPAM.

But that’s not all.  Aren’t you always teaching your kids to stay away from strangers?  And what do you freaks do?  Plop your child’s but on the lap of a perfect stranger – one whose lips hasn’t left a bottle since 1945, probably hasn’t passed any kind of background check and you couldn’t identify in a court of law because his face is obscured by a cotton beard.  Good job guys.  Way to teach your kids that it’s okay to sit on a creepy stranger’s lap.  Not just any stranger either, but Santa’s army of Rugrat Molesting Mall Santas.

Oh, and the lies you tell – and we’re actually really proud of you for this – you actually go out of your way to undermine your child’s trust.  You  make them believe the unbelievable only hit their little dreams with a sledgehammer later.  Build them up…knock them down…you do realize that even the CIA isn’t cruel enough to do it in that order.  Are you creating fully-functioning adults or are you creating dysfunctional sociopaths?  You decide.  But we do so get a kick out of the lengths you’ll go to get them to believe.  Eight flying reindeer?  You do realize that the only way those tick infested overgrown rats off the ground is to feed them LSD.  Which is actually pretty funny to watch.  But no, they don’t really fly.  But they certainly think they do.  And when your little ankle-biters dare to inquire as to how Santa makes it around the world in one night…that bit about the super-sonic Santa gets my goat every time.  How much further are you going to fray before you realize that you’ve lost your freaking mind?

A lot further as it turns out, since once your kids find out the truth and go through the mourning process for a guy who couldn’t possibly exist you FORCE THEM to keep it a secret from friends who don’t know and younger siblings.  And when they tell?  They get punished!  Freaking awesome.  Makes me want to make you honorary members of my organization.  But that won’t happen, you’ll have to do far better than that to get a foot in my door.

But Christmas doesn’t end with the jolly ole pedophile.  No…there’s the retail end.  Every year we sink ad money into the system so you’ll go further under in your checkbook.  And so far it’s working.  Don’t worry about this little recession thing, you’ll keep spending what you don’t have regardless.  And what better to truly kick off the holiday spending season than a day that shares its name with hangings, massacres, natural disasters, and financial crises?  BLACK FRIDAY.  Oh, yes we did.  You people line up outside the stores before the break of day, sometimes sleeping there overnight, to catch 20% off lighted pen trinkets for stocking stuffers.  Yes, that’s a whole $0.30 off the every day low price.  And you push and shove gimpy old ladies with social security checks in hand to get your little trinkets.  You are truly a piece of work.

But it’s all in the name of Good Will and Peace on Earth.  At least until the stores open.

May Santa Bless You One and All.

I love you.  I really do.  I’m not screwing with you, either.

After WordPress upgraded to 2.7, something which I never cared to notice became hilariously apparent.  When it comes to the two most popular posts on this blog, between our Obama announcement and our expose on Vince Offer – Obama nabbed 61% of the pageviews while Vince is at 39% and climbing quickly.

It brings tears of happiness that renegade leprechaun and infomercial pitchman, Vince,  has a shot in hell of beating out the most famous shape-shifting lizard in the United States, Obama.  And you… YES YOU made this all happen.  The Care Bear rebel faction has specifically asked that you put in extra effort to make sure that Vince beats Obama’s ass in pageviews.  Pointless Vengeance will be theirs!

So be sure to let all your insignificant little friends know that Vince is the bomb and point them to the blog entry so we can appease the rebel faction.  If we don’t they will not enter another candidate into the race and we’ll miss out on a  more entertaining car crash in 2012.

President Elect Barack Obama

ShamWow's Vince Offer