From the Archives: Patton Oswalt and Mike “Gabe” Krahulik

Archive Notes: This is going to be an irregular series of posts from me, because the censors are fairly forgiving and not a lot of things get push to the side for many reasons.  If it’s written too poorly to post, it either gets edited heavily or else it gets pitched.

But occasionally there are posts I write that we decide I’ve waited to long to put up, or we fear are crossing a line for any reason (and you know that we have a good distance we’re willing to travel before we can even see the line, much less cross it).  Sometimes we write posts and re-read them only to say, “No, that’s not the message I wanted to send.”

I do not see this 'line' you speak of...

I do not see this ‘line’ you speak of…

This particular post was originally written July 14, 2013, but we decided that we had covered the topic it spoke of too much at the time and we hesitated before putting it up.  By the time we decided we could post it up, we realized the window of opportunity had passed and it was no longer topical.

Now with the recent controversies over Anita Sarkeesian’s criticisms of Video Games (particularly, for some reason, Hitman Absolution), the continued assaults on Zoe Quinn, and the recent ‘Celebgate’ hacked release of dozens of female celebrity’s private nude pictures…we’ve decided that this is somewhat topical again.  We’ve gone through and re-written small parts of it to add a topical nature to the commentary, and adjusted the links in case something we referenced is no longer active.

Aside from a few small alterations, this was going to be posted in July of 2013; that’s over a year ago.  So now see it all it’s glory (or lack thereof), having been rescued…

From the Archives!

I recently [in July of 2013] read a scathing review of Patton Oswalt’s career which was pretty entertaining.  Why?  Because it was written by Patton Oswalt, and I enjoy his self-deprecating style of humor.  This line sums up his self-deprecating genius:

“In 1992 I was in the San Francisco International Comedy Competition. Out of a field of 40 competitors, I think I came in 38. Maybe.”

It’s a good read, I definitely suggest it.  He talks about three major subjects, a long diatribe on joke thievery, a shorter tirade on heckling, and finally his third topic is Rape.  Although he really talks about a bit more than just rape jokes, but that’s the mainstay of the topic.

If you don’t feel the need or desire to read the whole thing (it is rather long, but enjoyable and enlightening nonetheless), then I’ll try to summarize his main point about rape jokes.  He says that he defended Daniel Tosh’s rape jokes, initially, because he didn’t believe there was a ‘rape community’ in this country because he didn’t want to commit rape.  Here’s the takeaway to what he says:

“The comedians I’ve known who joke about rape – and genocide, racism, serial killers, drug addiction and everything else in the Dark Subjects Suitcase – tend to be, internally and in action, anti-violence, anti-bigotry, and decidedly anti-rape. It’s their way – at least, it’s definitely my way – of dealing with the fact that all of this shittiness exists in the world. It’s one of the ways I try to reduce the power and horror those subjects hold for me.”

For those who have followed along to my humor, you’ll know that I feel very similar to him.  Now of course Patton Oswalt goes on to say that he was wrong about there being no rape culture and decides that rape jokes should not use the victim as the target of the joke.  He admits he was wrong about his beliefs and moves on, stating that he has learned from his mistakes.

As a side note the site I found the link to Oswalt’s took the wrong message from his letter and took it to mean that Oswalt had changed his opinion and believed rape jokes were wrong and nobody should ever make them.  Except that Oswalt says the exact opposite; which tells me the news site that linked to him didn’t actually read it.

As a matter of fact the whole thing was about Mike Krahulik (the ‘Gabe’ from Penny Arcade) and his recent [as of July, 2013] hooplah with the transgendered community.

To summarize it, he said that women have vaginas and men have penises.  He said that in response to a game devoted to helping women masturbate more efficiency, which was getting a bunch of vitriol because it didn’t have penises in it.

no penis

I fully support the Transgendered movement (or whatever you want to call it) and believe that transgendered people should be allowed to call themselves whatever they feel.  If you identify as a woman?  Dress and act like a woman.  If you identify as a man?  You can still dress and act like a woman, I really don’t care.

Besides, I don’t really consider your style of dress to denote your gender.  My fiancé [now, wife] wears men’s jeans, because she says that women’s jeans don’t have big enough pockets for her phone and wallet.  I know of several guys who wear a skirt, because they may be of Scottish descent and feels that ‘kilts’ are way more comfortable/acceptable than shorts when it’s hot out.

If you have a penis and identify as a woman, then that’s fine, psychologically you are a women and I will refer to you as ‘she/her’ if you want.  I don’t really even mind if you use the lady’s room at a restaurant or school, or if you play football.

I don’t believe in men’s clothes, men’s jobs, men’s duties, men’s music, men’s games, men’s books, or men’s sports.  But I do believe in men’s genitalia.  If you have a penis and identify as a woman, I’ll let you stand in the lady’s room and piss in the stall; but you are physically a man.  Biologically you are male, and 99% of the people who are like you biologically are identified as male.  I believe in the majorities for terminology.

Do I think those 99% of penis-bearers should harass or exclude you?  No.  Do I think that they should refer to you by whichever gender you feel more closely associated with?  Yes, if only to be polite.  Honestly if you wear a cloak and a crown and refer to yourself as Duke/Duchess of your house I will probably humor you with a curt bow when first introduced to you.  Do I think that we should call men’s pants as Men or Transgendered Women’s clothes?  No.  The majority of men’s pants are designed for the biological identification of men, which have penises.  If we want to be politically correct and change men’s pants to Penis-Bearer pants, I actually find that acceptable.  If you’re a man who was named Christopher at birth, who identifies as a woman, but has to wear men’s pants because you still have a penis; I will buy you men’s pants for your birthday* and tell your partner, “These are for Christine, I hope she likes them.”

But if you complain because the waistband says men’s pants on the label, I will laugh at you.  Just like I laugh at my [wife] when she scoffs at women’s pants and buys men’s pants.  Just like how I laughed at myself when I got an ingrown hair on my inner thigh and had to wear lady’s thong panties for a couple days because the fabric of my boxer briefs agitated the spot.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.  I find humor in horrible things because I am astounded that those things occur.  I find rape horrible…murder, theft, bad driving, picking on handicapped people, miscarriages, suicide, etc…all horrible, terrible things.  But I like rape jokes, murder jokes, jokes about stealing things, etc.

That is where Patton Oswalt and I have a small difference of opinion, though.  He says that we need to stop making rape jokes where the “victim is the target” of the joke, or particularly the victim is the punch line.  But I feel that doing so is a faulty idea.

Yes, the victim of a rape shouldn’t be part the target of a rape joke.  And I would never make a rape joke while I was giving a victim a rape kit, if I was his/her nurse.  I would not joke about him/her after my shift was over or anything like that.  But I might still buy a Dickwolves shirt from Penny Arcade.

One of the best holocaust jokes I know came from a friend who is half-Black, half-Jewish.  I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again.  She introduces herself as half-Black and half-Jewish and then says, “It’s horrible, I have to stand in the back of the oven.”

The holocaust is one of the worst things to occur in semi-modern history, and it’s actually very poorly named because it wasn’t anything remote to a holocaust; it was a quiet, somewhat secretive campaign to slowly and steadily expunge an entire race.  Hiroshima and Nagasami were holocausts.  But that’s an entirely different topic.  Although…it does bring up a good point.

I hate that we used nuclear bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki; especially Nagasaki.  I will admit that in President Truman’s position, I can’t promise I wouldn’t have made the same decision to utilize the bombs; I am thankful it was not my decision.  But I feel that we violated the rules of warfare, especially in Nagasaki, by dropping such a powerful weapon on civilians.  I feel that, as an American Citizen and a former member of the U.S. Armed Forces, that the Fat Man and Little Boy bombings are one of the darkest moments in our country’s history in the past century.

But that didn’t stop me from making an “Enola Gay” joke the other day when I watched a game commentary video and the guy in the video had a bomb dropped on him.  I don’t even remember the joke now, but it was a Hiroshima bombing joke of sorts.

No joke is off limits and nobody has the right to determine what jokes someone is or is not allowed to say; especially in the U.S.  You do, however, have every right to not enjoy the joke and to say so.  You have every right to not follow me and my site because I support rape jokes, although if you laugh at them then you’re an extra super-duper asshole for being a total hypocrite.  And I know a lot of hypocrites out there; people who got on Daniel Tosh’s shit, then laughed at more thinly veiled rape jokes and sexist jokes and stuff.

This guy is a comedic genius.

This guy is a comedic genius.

Seriously, though, read Patton Oswalt’s letter, it’s really interesting.  And Mr. Oswalt…I’ll let you know right now, that two of my favorite stories were written by you.  I use those anecdotes of yours a lot and I’m sure I don’t do them justice, but I always credit you as the original writer of the joke, because that’s how ‘stealing’ a joke should be done.

But once again, that’s a totally different topic.


*Note: That analogy is faulty in that…I don’t buy gifts for people’s birthdays.  And I don’t want you to buy me anything for my birthday, either.  Unless I am marrying you or in some kind of close, preferably blood, relation to you…your birthday and mine do not equate to a gift exchange.

Catching Up to DotM.

I just realized how far behind on the Dick of the Month posts I am.  I am working to fix that issue and you can expect…January?  Holy crap, I am far behind!

So, yeah, you can expect January’s DotM tomorrow, early afternoon.

Thanks for your patience.


This Post Is Eggceptional!

I hope you all have a happy Wednesday, to make sure it’s happy…here’s an eggceptional picture to view this fine morning/afternoon/evening/whenever you happen to stumble on my site.


My Mistake and New Post

Whoops…I set up the post scheduling  wrong and none of them posted this week.  I accidentally set them all up for next week.  So, uhh…I’ve moved them around some.  This post was supposed to be Monday the 20th’s post.  I’ll catch up to myself here.

At my newest posting I start 3:30 pm and I, along with my colleague, replace the day shift woman.  My new manager has told me that the day-shift woman complains if she doesn’t get to leave on time.  So he urges us all to show up early, if not on time.

I did a week’s training, and then began full-time.  It was about my second full-time week there and I was working with the guy I basically replaced (he’s semi-retired now, only works part time as a fill-in).  We went to the desk to take over the post at 3:27 and she chewed us out for being too early saying, “You’re not supposed to be here until three-thirty!”

My semi-retired colleague replied, “Ma’am, it is three-thirty.  Three-twenty-seven to be exact.”

And she glared at him, “I don’t need smart ass comments.”

She’s lucky she snapped at him, because I was one foot out the door at the first complaint.  Considering she gets paid more than I do, has a better shift than I do, and does half as much work as I do…I don’t intend to put up with her shit.  Especially since the little bitch and I hadn’t even been officially introduced.  I didn’t even know her name, yet.

So now I show up on time at best, if not a few minutes late.  So folks, take that as a lesson…if your departure time at your place of work is dependent on somebody else, you probably shouldn’t be a dick to that person.  Especially if they’re new and have relatively little to lose by changing jobs.


Jagged Alliance: Pseudo-Preview

I have just recently discovered excellent news.  For anyone who may be fans of the Jagged Alliance series of computer games, apparently BitComposer Games and Kalypso Media have gotten the rights to the series.

As such, they have made a new game which will come out on February 14, just a few days away.  It is a graphically improved retelling of the original Jagged Alliance 2, which I’m perfectly fine with.

It also has a new system, it’s no longer turn-based strategy; it is now real-time strategy.  But you can pause it and issue commands in a tactical mode which lets you assess your squad-members, the viewable enemies, the terrain, etc.  The actions you command your squad members to perform will then be carried out in sequence, you can even link events together, like waiting for someone to shoot before moving ahead to draw a guard’s attention, or having two guys move into position and to pincer an enemy and coordinating their shots to make sure both are in position, first.

It sounds like a really good improvement…sadly my computer’s graphics card seems to be the bane of my existence right now and I’m having trouble running the demo.  So, I’m looking for an improved graphics card and will try to get one in this chittering box beside me very soon.

At that point expect an actual preview about the game and hopefully I’ll get Kalypso Media’s attention and get a free review copy (yeah right).


Disney Ladies

Disney has never been accused of being very good at cultural sensitivity.  A look at the Disney ‘Princesses’ shows a pretty telling idea.  In order of appearance you have…

Snow White (Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs, 1937): Black Hair, brown eyes, pale skin.

Cinderella (Cinderella, 1950): Blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin.

Aurora (Sleeping Beauty, 1959): Blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin.

Ariel (The Little Mermaid, 1989): Red hair, green eyes, pale skin.

Belle (Beauty and The Beast, 1991): Brown hair, brown eyes, Caucasian.

Jasmine (Aladdin, 1992): Black hair, brown eyes, tanned Caucasian at best in shots, theoretically brown skin.

Jasmine is fairly whitewashed in a lot of scenes, but at least they tried in that one.

Now into the 90’s Disney made a few additions…Pocahontas (Pocahontas, 1995), Hua Mulan (Mulan), Tiana (Princess and he Frog, 2009), and Rapunzel (Tangled, 2010).

Courtesy of Wikipedia.

Pocohontas is the daughter of a Native American Chief, not really a king, but pretty close, so we’ll count her.  Mulan is the daughter of a middle-class veteran, not even a low-class nobleman, so she’s not a princess at all.  Tiana is a poor black girl who is friends with a wealthy girl who buys her a dress to attend the rich girl’s father’s Mardi Gras party; ‘cause y’know, black girls can’t be princesses in Disneyland.

Finally we’re back to a blonde hair, green eyed, and pale-skinned girl who is a real princess.

Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora, Ariel, and Rapunzel are legitimate princesses…daughters of kings, or girls who marry princes.  Jasmine is the daughter of a Sultan which is closer to a European Duke than a King, so she barely qualifies, much like Pocahontas who is the daughter of a Native American tribal Chieftain.  Mulan and Tiana aren’t even nobility…so all of the non-Caucasian Disney Princesses are not actually princesses.

My fiancé and I were walking through Walmart the other day (we’ve finished our Christmas Shopping for 2012, BTW; yay after Christmas sales!) and we saw a bunch of Disney Princess Dolls.  They had Aurora, Belle, Snow White, and Mulan.  They all looked the same, except for their dresses: Aurora and Snow White were in their film dresses, Belle was in the golden ball gown from the film, and Mulan was wearing Chinese peasant clothes.  They were all the same, facially, except for the size and point of their noses, the color and arrangement of their hair, and the color of their eyes.

Aside from that Aurora and Snow White were pale white, Belle was a pale flesh color, and Mulan was a dark brown skin tone.  The funniest part was that the pictures on the box showed Mulan as the palest of the group.

Umm…what the hell was I getting at with this?  Got rambly and ranty…

Random picture to save face:

Oh right, some guy’s making art based on if the Disney women were real people.  Here’s the Yahoo! article about it.  Pretty cool stuff, I have to admit.


Ramblin’, ramblin’, ramblin’…

Elin Nordegren Builds New…Beach?

I’ve never been one to find fault with Elin Nordegren for leaving Tiger Woods or getting 100 million dollars in the divorce.  That is…until now.  She’s just recently bought this house:

This is what $12 Million buys you on the current housing market, in Florida.

Beautiful, isn’t it?  The 12 million dollar mansion has 6 Bedrooms and 8 Bathrooms, beach-front views, and is surrounded by Florida palm trees.  She’s not expected to move in any time soon, though, because of renovations.

Pictured: Extreme renovations.

Yes…she razed a $12 million mansion.  No word on what she’s going to do with it, though.  She could have used it for some charitable means, like housing homeless Florida veterans or something.  But nope, as it stands now she’s just flexing her settlement money.

Nothing like having millions of dollars handed to you to make you waste money.  The only good thing that came out of this is that she created a few jobs with the construction crew.

Wholly shit!  Republicans are right!  Wasteful luxury spending by wealthy people does create jobs!  Quick, tell the Democrats!


I wish someone would hand me a few million dollars just because I don’t like who someone had sex with.

Red Cross: Holiday Mail For Heroes Program Ends December 9th!!

Just a reminder to everyone out there that the Red Cross’ Holiday Mail For Heroes program requires that allc ards be post-markes by December 9, 2011 to give enough time to sort them out and ship them off to their respective recipient.  Don’t belive the farcical e-mail chainletters and facebook wall posts talking about sending things to the Walter Reed Medical Center’s Wounded Warrior Recovery program.  If for no other reason than because the Walter Reed Medical Center closed down this past August; that and they never had a program where they gave wounded servicemembers the cards you sent in.  If they ever got delivered, they just got thrown in the trash.

So give a card to a wounded servicemember, or a few dozen if you can!  Remember those who fight overseas for us now.  Because when the revolution starts, we want to make sure they’re on our side and not Congress’.  Err, and they deserve it for all their dangerous, hard work, too, of course. =D

Here’s the Red Cross’ guidelines, and you can find a link to the right of all my blog posts until the program ends.

Card Guidelines:
Every card received will be screened for hazardous materials by Pitney Bowes and then reviewed by Red Cross volunteers working around the country.
Please observe the following guidelines to ensure a quick reviewing process:

  • All cards being sent in for 2011 Holiday Mail For Heroes program should be postmarked no later than Friday, December 9, 2011.
  • Ensure that all cards are signed.
  • Use generic salutations such as “Dear Service Member.” Cards addressed to specific individuals can not be delivered through this program.
  • Only cards are being accepted. Do not send letters.
  • Do not include email or home addresses on the cards, as the program is not meant to foster pen pal relationships.
  • Do not include inserts of any kind, including photos, as these items will be removed during the reviewing process.
  • We encourage participants to mail as many cards as they are comfortable sending. If you are mailing a large quantity, please bundle the cards and place them in large mailing envelopes or use a flat rate box from the post office. Each card does not need its own envelope, as cards will be removed from all envelopes before distribution.
  • Please refrain from sending holiday cards with glitter. Many of these cards will be delivered to military and veterans medical facilities and the glitter could interfere with a patient’s recovery


I’m Not Racist…Really!

I was brought to remember a joke by one of my favorite comedians, Bill Burr, today.  I can’t remember it verbatim, but here’s the paraphrase, “Have you ever noticed how the most racist things you hear, are usually preceded by the phrase, ‘I’m not racist, but…insert radical xenophobic rant here’?”

I thought of the joke because of an event, which I will detail after I make my point, I looked to the girl who works near me and said, “I don’t mean to sound racist, but that’s not the person I was expecting when I heard the name Tanecia.”

At that moment, I realized…I sounded pretty damn racist; mostly because of the bewildered and trapped look the poor girl gave me as a response.  Like she wanted to agree, but was afraid that magical podium Bill Burr always talks about would come out of nowhere and she’d be defending her job, because she’s white and therefore can’t be racist in today’s society.

So without getting into the whole racism vs. reverse racism issue, I will just display my story now…

A gentleman came into the building today and I checked him in, he said he was here to meet with a Ms. Tanecia Brown [real last name withheld].  At this point I, having never met Ms. Brown, so when I called her on the phone to inform her that she had a guests, I had subconsciously created expectations of the person who would come down to receive said guest.

Five minutes later, when a small-framed brunette that looked, at darkest, like a Northern Italian came out and shook his hand saying, “Hi, I’m Tanecia,” I was at a bit of a loss, mentally.

Now aside from the fact that my spell-check is coughing up blood from that last run-on paragraph, we come to the racist bits.  I heard the name Tanecia, and I imagined a black woman.  I heard her voice and I imagined a small-framed black woman.  Instead, I got a small-framed white woman.

It got me thinking about other names that are very ethnic.  Some of them are unjust, but some of them are good examples of stereotypes gone right.  If you hear a guy named Stanislov, you’re going to expect a guy with a Russian accent.  Likewise if you walk into the German embassy in Washington D.C. and shake hands with the ambassador, you’re going to be very confused when he says, “Guten Tag, my name is Ushigi Hachiro.”  And go ahead and do a Google Image Search for Tanecia Brown, tell me what you find; I’ll bet it’s a bucnh of blakc women and one white chick.

Let’s take a look at one celebrity in particular to cause this phenomenon: Queen Latifah.  Now when she became a prominent black actress, comedian, singer/rapper Latifah became a popular name for black people to name their daughters.  This is why I find it hilarious when black people hate Muslims.  Latifah is a traditional Muslim name for a girl.

We can also go back to the crusades where my name first became popular and famous…the King of England was named Richard…Richard the Lion-Hearted.  Actually it should be Ricard Couer de Leon; he wasn’t even English, he was French.  But because it was the King of England’s name, they adopted it.  Since the French Ricard, spelled without the ‘h’, is pronounced Ree-shard, the English bastardized it to Ritch-Hard and spelled it as thus: Richard.

So we arrive at a group of people who hate the French and have begun naming their children a semi-popular (at the time) French name.  There ended up being more English people named Richard then there were French people named it, before the Coeur de Leon came around.

I’d thought of some other ethnic sounding names, too; without getting into the debate about putting ‘eesha’ on the end of things to make it sound like a black name.  Y’know, like the parents who named their daughter Toprameneesha, because they were loved Ramen Noodles?  Look at the name… Top Ramen Eesha.  Tyrone for a black man, Rodrigo for a Latino, Hung for a Chinese guy, and Hamlet for a Danish prince.

All of those names sound ethnic, but I’ve seen them in non-ethnic forms.  I went to school with a white guy name named Tyrone, he goes by T.J. (his middle name is John).  I know a black man named Rodrigo, and the weird thing is he doesn’t have any Latin ancestors, his parents just liked the name Roger and wanted to give him something ‘special’ for a name; as expected he goes by Roger.

I know a white man who goes by the name Hung, and not because of Chinese ancestry, but because he thinks having a name like Hung (his real name is Howard) will let him get laid more often; but he actually signs things as Hung Lastname, instead of Howard Lastname.  The sad thing is that his last name isn’t Johnson, because Hung Johnson is a porn star’s name, no matter how you look at it and that would have made his paycheck endorsements hilarious.

And finally Hamlet…which is a black girl’s name.  Her father loved Shakespeare and when she was born, he named her Hamlet.

So remember, stereotypes are right sometimes, but wrong others.  The important thing is to be open-minded and hate all people equally because of justified paranoia, like germophobia or greed.

Or y’know…love all mankind or some hippy crap like that.


By the way, funny moment of the day was editing this to find I’d accidentally called Queen Latifah a singer/raper in the first draft of this post.

My Epic Fight

Today I battled a mighty creature!  A creature born of pure terror, of fear itself, the fright incarnate known as…a spider.  What makes the spider so frightening?  Well, aside from my arachnophobia the fact that it was the size of a golf ball!  That might not seem like much, but imagine a golf ball that can bite you and runs faster than a two-year-old on a mission to break something.

I was just sitting in my chair, calmly minding my own business, as well as my own territory.  Then, suddenly and without warning (which is kind of a redundant phrase, isn’t it?), this spider flies out from behind a wall and scurries under my desk.

I immediately go about defending my rightful territory from this base and vile, not to mention venomous, invader by nearly falling out of my chair as I scurry away from my desk.

The spider came out from under the desk and faced off with me, knowing full well that he had me outgunned and outmaneuvered.  He was faster than I was (and did I mention more venomous?) and all I had was the shoes on my feet, which I wasn’t willing to take off and throw at him, meaning I had no projectile capabilities.

Breaking through my fears I realized I had another weapon at my disposal.  I had a can…of compressed duster air!  I immediately grabbed for it, but was alarmed to find it felt rather empty.

I shook it hastily, while the spider taunted me by bristling its giant fangs…or its front legs or something.  The can had something left in it, but I didn’t know how much.  It might be one short burst, it might be three; I would just have to risk it, I knew!

So I fearlessly engaged the spider, blowing it across the room with a burst of compressed air.  It landed on its back, but quickly righted itself, even so the battle was over.

Or was it?!  The spider slowly meandered back toward my desk.  He had been beaten and yet still he was determined to take my very life, if necessary, to conquer my desk!

I leaped into action again, still risking my finite ammunition stores, and blasted twice more.  He fled under a chair, but I knew there would be no safety for my territory as long as he lived.  This Osama bin Spiden was out to destroy me, to destroy my territory, if not my very life, itself.

I couldn’t very well tap my own phone line or use overhead cameras…mostly because spiders don’t use phones and the camera above me doesn’t pan or tilt and has about a one-tenth megapixel view.

I had no other choice, I had to go on the counteroffensive and take the fight to Spider Country.  I kicked the chair…quickly finding out it was locked in place by the table beside it.

Nursing a sprained ankle (damn that crafty spider and his dastardly booby traps!), I unlocked the chair from the table and kicked it again, exposing my undeterred nemesis.  I hit him with two more bursts, possibly my last two bursts, of air from my hand-cannon (which is a way cooler weapon name than duster air canister).

Reeling from the massive assault from my air cannon, I leapt upon him to engage in brutal, grappling, melee combat!  The fight was over in mere seconds as he dodged my first blow and parried my second by rolling back onto his belly.  But he was too uncoordinated from my air cannon (too subtle that I’m proud of that one?) to wage a viable counter offensive.

My ferocious shoe came down upon him, not once, not twice…but about fifty-six times (y’know, just to be sure), and with that he was quite dead.


Wait, was that a twitch?  Fifty-seven!

Turns out that I’d been the one to twitch, but that’s beside the point.  The fact of the matter is that I conquered my dangerous nemesis and successfully defended my territory from a vicious, venomous, and vindictive foe thanks to my vivacious and visceral fighting maneuvers.


Okay…maybe not a golf ball, but definitely a kidney bean with legs.  A really big, thick, kidney bean…with legs…and fangs…and a handgun, maybe?

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