(A FILTHY LIE)

I found a picture of Evil Glenn actually using his weather control machine. It's not worksafe, so it's in the extended entry. more...

Posted by: Harvey at 07:39 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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(A FILTHY LIE)

Another Friday, another trip to Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon to tip back a few cold ones and bask in the warm glow of cheerful cameraderie...

Harv: Hey, Bartender.

Bartender: Eat shit & die, you maggot-infested monkey-humper.

Harv: That's the nicest thing you've said to me in months.

Bartender: I've been reading "How To Win Friends & Influence People".

Harv: That WOULD explain your cuddly, bunny-like demeanor. Say, you seen Matty O'Blackfive in here?

Bartender: What do I look like? His f***ing personal secretary?

Harv: Nah. She's got bigger knockers & less ear-hair... Nevermind... I see him in the corner. Pour me a Guinness & bring it over.

Bartender: What do I look like? A f***ing bartender? I... wait... uh...

Harv: Work the formula, Einstein, I'll be Matty chattin'.

... I went to the dimly lit corner table where sat America's favorite drunken Irish paratrooper...

Harv: Hey, Matty.

Matt: Eat shit & die.

Harv: "How To Win Friends & Influence People"?

Matt: The Bartender loaned me his copy.

Harv: It's working wonders for ya. I've been here 10 seconds and you haven't said f*** once.... to tell you the truth, it's creeping me out a little.

Matt: That book's full of all kinds of weird stuff. For example, did you know that some people say... [checks book]... "please"... instead of "hurry up before I bust your f***in' chops"?

Harv: I thought that was just an urban legend?

Matt: Nope. Apparently it's a fairly common expression amongst people without military experience.

Harv: So... it's a French word?

Matt: You're thinking of "surrender".

Harv: Whatever. All this linguistical chit-chat's making me thirsty. Let me pull up a chair while I wait for the Bartender to bring my beer, and... [staring at empty glasses piled up on the table]... Matty, how long have you been here tonight?

Matt: About an hour.

Harv: That looks more like TWO hourse worth of your glassware. Somethin' bugging you?

Matt: My lucky box of Lucky Charms cereal is missing.

Harv: Your... what now?

Matt: Lucky box of Lucky Charms... Remember? I posted a picture of it last St. Patrick's Day?

Harv: Heh. Paddy O'Tatertot.

Matt: Yeah, well, it's missing now and I'm really bummed out about it.

Harv: Didn't you get that box from a CIA agent in Cambodia?

Matt: You're thinking of John Kerry's lucky hat.

Harv: John Kerry's Irish?

Matt: Irish Protestant, judging by his skin color. Anyway, it's missing.

Harv: That's just weird... Hey, speaking of missing, I can't seem to find my Johnny B. Bad $5 bill.

Matt: You mean that creepy-looking thing with Lincoln wearing an earring that you've got posted on your site?

Harv: It was my first piece of Graffiti Currency. It means the world to me. I searched all over the place. Can't find it anywhere. I don't know what to do.

Matt: Try drinking heavily. That always seems to solve MY problems.

Harv: And by a happy coincidence, here's the Bartender with my Guinness. Gimme that thing before I bust your f***in' chops.

Matt: He means "please".

Bartender: I didn't know Harv spoke French... By the way, have either of you doorknobs seen my lucky shot glass?

Harv: Matt, I think there's something strange going on here.

Matt: Yeah, the Bartender missed a perfectly good opportunity to use a form of the work f*** as an adjective.

Bartender: Skip the grammar lessons, Strunk & White. What're you getting at, Harv?

Harv: Don't you see? Matty's lucky cereal box, my cherished Graffiti Currency, your lucky shot glass - ALL missing at the same time? It CAN'T be just a coincidence! I think Evil Glenn is behind this.

Bartender: That's the STUPIDEST thing I've ever heard! There's not a SINGLE shred of evidence pointing towards Evil Glenn!

Harv: EXACTLY! The complete absence of evidence means he's OBVIOUSLY the perpetrator!

Bartender: ...Have you been watching Michael Moore movies again?

Matt: No, Bartender, he's right. You can't argue with his perfect logic.

Bartender: Perfect lunacy.

Matt: Come on, Bartender. It means we'll get to go on a road cruise in the Drunkmobile. I'll even let you drive.

Bartender: Well... as long as there's drunk driving involved, I don't see how I can say no.

Matt: Great! Then it's settled. TO THE DRUNKMOBILE!

Harv: Shotgun!

Matt: DOH!

... we stumbled into our beloved vehicle of alcohol-fueled vengeance and swerved insanely through the night towards Castle Glenn, hoping to discover why he had stolen our most precious belongings. A few hours later, with a screech of tires and the crash of impacted trash cans, we arrived on Instapundit's front lawn...

Harv: Nice stealth, Bartender. Why don't you just send up a flare while you're at it?

Bartender: Great idea!... [BANG! *FWOOSH*]... Now we can see where we're going.

Harv: Matt, I'm gonna sit here & shake my head in disbelief for a while. Meanwhile, you can explain "sarcasm" to this retarded sack of hammers.

Matt: Lay off him, Harv. If we run, we can still catch Glenn by surprise.

Bartender: Matt's right. It's not like our mission was broadcast hours in advance.

Harv: Well... I did put up a small "light blogging ahead due to secret mission to Evil Glenn's castle" post.

Matt: And I live-blogged the road trip.

Bartender [checks Instapundit.com]: "Heh. Looks like I'll be having company. Indeed."

Harv: That would explain the neon sign that says "Welcome Harv, Matty, and Bartender".

Matt: Enough belly-aching! Come on you apes! You want to live forever? Let's go get our shit back!

... We entered the castle, seeking Glenn's inner sanctum. Guided by Matty's eerily accurate, almost Spider-man-like ability to detect evil - along with numerous signs posted in the hallways that said "this way to diabolical trap" - we quickly arrived at our destination.

Evil Glenn: What the F*** took you guys so long?

Harv: Sorry. We decided to play rock-paper-scissors to see who'd buy the first round when we got back to the bar.

Evil Glenn: Which should take about 5 seconds!

Matt: We all kept picking "rock".

Bartender: Good old rock. Nothing beats that.

Evil Glenn: Indeed. Well, let me explain why I've tricked you into coming here tonight. At the dawn of time, certain ancient tribes worshipped dark gods of unspeakable power. Anthropologists differ in their explanation of...

Harv: Bored now.

Matt: I really don't want my box back badly enough to listen to THIS crap.

Bartender: Ditto. If I'd have wanted a history lesson, I wouldn't have dropped out of the 3rd grade. Let's go.

[all turn to leave]

Evil Glenn: WAIT!... Fine... you win... The short version is: I stole a precious object from each of you so that I could control you through the power of Voodoo and use you to destroy the Alliance of Free Blogs. But then I read the fine print on the ritual scroll and discovered that I needed blood from each of you, too, so I had to trick you into coming here in order to gather your precious life-fluids.

Harv: Bullshit! You didn't trick us into coming here. Accusing you was MY idea. I thought it up all by myself!

Evil Glenn: Subliminal message in that hardcore bondage porn movie you downloaded last night.

Harv: I... uh... don't know what Glenn's talking about... uh... but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to humor him...

Bartender: Wait a second... Voodoo?... I thought you worshipped Satan?

Evil Glenn: Satan? BAH! Why would I worship him? What's he ever done for ME?

Harv: Made you the untouchable Dominar of the Ecosystem?

Evil Glenn: I mean lately...

Bartender: He helped you win the lottery a couple weeks ago.

Evil Glenn: Lately, as in "today"...

Matt [noticing a nearby FedEx package]: He sent you a new inflatable sheep.

Evil Glenn: That's... uh... a gift for a friend!

Bartender: How come it has a blending attachment?

Evil Glenn: Just answer the question! What's Satan done for me in the last 10 minutes?

[silence]

Evil Glenn: I rest my case! After all the slaughtered hobos, I get NOTHING! He's abandoned me! He's the most feeble, pathetic excuse for an anthropomorphic personification of evil that ever...

Harv: Um... Glenn...

Evil Glenn: WHAT!

Harv: Maybe you shouldn't say that...

Evil Glenn: ...he's standing behind me, isn't he?

Bartender: Let's see, 20 feet tall, horns, hooves, pitchfork...

Matt: Could be Hillary...

Harv: Face isn't hairy enough.

Satan: SILENCE! SO... GLENN... WHAT'S THIS ABOUT NOT WORSHIPPING ME ANYMORE?

Evil Glenn: Uh... um... er... Look! I brought you some hobos!

Satan: DON'T F*** WITH ME, LAWYER! THESE MEN ALL HAVE HOMES AND JOBS!... ALTHOUGH PADDY O'TATERTOT IS A NEAR MISS ON THE BOOZING FRONT...

Matt: Hey!

Bartender [kicking Matt in the shin]: Shut up, Paddy! Don't interrupt the nice Prince of Darkness.

Satan: I FIND YOUR LACK OF FAITH DISTURBING, MR. REYNOLDS. YOU SHALL BE PUNISHED FOR YOUR INSOLENCE!

Evil Glenn: So... I'm in deep shit, ain't I?

Satan: FUNNY YOU SHOULD SAY THAT... MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

...with a snap of his black-taloned fingers, Satan disappeared in a cloud of sulfurous smoke. When it cleared, Glenn was nowhere to be found...

Harv: Bored now.

Matt: Even worse, we didn't get our stuff back.

Bartender: I'm NOT leaving here without my lucky shot glass. HEY! SATAN!

Satan [reappearing in a sulfurous cloud]: WHAT!

Bartender: Ya know, we didn't come all this way for nothing. I want my shot glass!

Harv: And I want my $5 graffiti bill!

Matt: And I want my box of Lucky Charms!

Satan: DO I LOOK LIKE THE F***ING WIZARD OF OZ? PISS OFF!

Bartender: Then you leave us no choice but to bind you into serving us by reading a passage from the Good Book... Matty?...

Matt: "The word "please" is your most important tool for winning friends and influencing people..."

Satan: NOOOOOOOOO! NOT "PLEASE"! I CAN'T STAND IT WHEN PEOPLE SPEAK FRENCH!

Harv: Actually, it's NOT Fren...

Bartender [kicking Harv in the shin and whispering harshly]: shut! up!

Satan: ALL RIGHT! ALL RIGHT! HERE'S YOUR CRAP BACK! JUST RELEASE ME FROM YOUR SPELL!

Bartender: Ok, Matt, say the magic words.

Matt: "Eat shit & die, you maggot-infested monkey-humper".

... Satan disappeared in a cloud of foul-smelling smoke, after which we gathered our belongings and high-tailed it back to the Drunkmobile. After half an hour of doing donuts on Glenn's front lawn (because it's FUN... duh!) we made our way back to Madfish Willie's for a beer and an epilogue...

Matt: Wonder what Satan meant by that "deep shit" remark?

Harv: Don't know... but on a completely unrelated topic, have you seen this story about a man who was so desperate to get his hands on a dog that he dove into a manure pit?

Matt: Interesting... yet I'm sure this story is completely unrelated to our recent adventure.

Bartender: Hey! Which one of you cheap bastards is gonna pay for these drinks?

[Matt, Harv, & the Bartender all look at each other in silence]

[IN UNISON]: One! Two! Three!.... ROCK!

INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!

Posted by: Harvey at 12:06 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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(A FILTHY LIE)

After the Senate failed to confirm Alberto Gonzales as US Attorney General, President Bush nominated Glenn Reynolds.

Yes, W. was aware of Glenn's long record of evil deeds - he just wanted to screw with the Senate as payback for being a bunch of dicks.

Things got off to a rocky start, and soon went careening downhill completely out of control, not unlike a skiing Kennedy.

Some selected excerpts from the transcript follow. The full version may be found at www.yappityyapproceduralbullshit.gov, unless Hosting Matters got DDOS'ed again.

Sen Hatch: Now, Mr. Reynolds, I'm sure you'd make a fine Attorney General, but my fellow Senators and just have a few simple questions for...

Evil Glenn: INSIGNIFICANT WORM! HOW DARE YOU QUESTION ME! YOU WILL ALL KNEEL BEFORE MY FEARSOME VISAGE! KNEEL I SAY! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!

Sen Hatch: I'm sorry, Mr. Reynolds, your microphone was off. Could you please repeat that?

Evil Glenn: I said, "How may I assist your inquiry?"

Sen Hatch: I have your resume here... it says that you worked in the lumber industry?

Evil Glenn: Huh?

Sen Hatch: As a... logger?

Evil Glenn: Blogger, actually, although I've been known to cut down a few things from time to time...

Sen Hatch: So you dance in wooden shoes?

Evil Glenn: No, that would be a "clogger".

Sen Hatch: Wait... I thought that was a nickname for a plumber... you know, yanking greasy hair and such...

Evil Glenn: That would be a "wrestler".

Sen Hatch: Ah yes, I remember your match with The Rock. Heh. Kicked his ass pretty good, you did.

Evil Glenn: Um... yeah... so what's that have to do with being Attorney General?

Sen. Hatch: Oh, nothing. I just like seeing sweaty, muscular men grappling. Anyway, next question: if you were appointed Attorney General, what laws would you pass?

Evil Glenn: Actually, the Attorney General just enforces the laws. It's Congress's job to pass the laws.

Sen. Feinstein: I thought a Congressman's job was to bring porkbarrel projects back to his constituents?

Sen. Kennedy: Wait... I thought that was Senator Kerry's job?

Sen. Hatch: No, his job was to destroy the Democratic Party.

Sen. Schumer: I thought that was Karl Rove's job?

Sen. Feinstein: John Kerry is actually Karl Rove?

Sen. Kennedy: I thought John Kerry was Lurch?

Sen. Schumer: Don't be stupid! He's Gomer Pyle!

[various Senators talking over each other]: Herman Munster! Droopy Dog! Goofy! Treebeard! Keith Richards! Jane Fonda!

Evil Glenn: He's the severed head from "Re-Animator", now can we PLEASE get on with the hearing?

Sen. Feingold: All I know is that Kerry's not President.

Sen. Hatch: What? He's NOT? That's not what I heard from the exit poll data! What happened?

Sen. Feingold: He just didn't have what it takes for the Presidency.

Evil Glenn: Yeah, he lost those electoral votes in Ohio...

Sen. Feingold: No, I mean he never had sex with an intern.

Sen. Hatch: Wait... I thought it was a Senator's job to have sex with interns?

Sen. Feinstein: No, that's the President's job.

Sen. Schumer: Wait... I thought it was the President's job to kill campaign workers?

Sen. Hatch: No, that's Ted Kennedy's job.

Sen. Kennedy: And I got away with it too! BWAHAHAHAHAHA! [dances drunken Irish jig on table]

Evil Glenn: Please! Please! This is supposed to be a happy occasion! Let's not bicker and argue about who killed who. We are here today to confirm me as Attorney General...

Sen. Kennedy: Wait a minute... NOW I remember you... you were in here last summer passing out cash & hookers trying to get us to vote for some blogging law. Then you blended a puppy on the Senate floor and nearly got us all voted out of office! I remember that horrible day so clearly... one of the most awful experiences of my life... you took so long getting that thing blended that I nearly achieved sobriety. It took me an entire bottle of gin to get back to my normal level of slur & stumble.

Evil Glenn: But... but... you're not going to hold that against me, are you?

Sen. Hatch: I'm afraid we can't allow someone who commits heinous acts like purposely sobering up Irishmen to be Attorney General.

Evil Glenn: Oh, come on! There was only that one other time... I mean... uh... that thing with Kennedy was the only time. Please! Mercy! I beg of you!

Sen. Hatch: Sorry, Mr. Reynolds, we have a sacred duty to the American people to...

Evil Glenn: I'll give you cash & hookers.

Sen. Hatch: ... to nominate only the most highly qualified person for the office of Attorney General. Which is you. All in favor say "aye".

[All]: AYE!

Evil Glenn: YES! WHOO-HOO! I'm in! [does celebratory Robot Dance]

Sen. Hatch: What the F***? NO! NO! NO! Strike that vote from the record! Geez! If we want some rhythmless feeb twitching on the Senate floor we'll hire William Hung. Now get out of here!

Evil Glenn: But the cash & hookers...

Sen. Hatch: They can stay. SECURITY! Take him to the dungeon!

Security: Um... Senator?... Remember? We had to close down the dungeon? Abu-Ghraib? Scandal?

Sen. Hatch: Aw CRAP! Damn bleeding-heart liberals!

Sen. Kennedy: Hey!

Sen. Hatch: No offense, Ted... Ok, just take him to the most wretched hive of scum and villainy you can find.

Security: Yes sir.

Sen. Kennedy: And bring me back some gin, boy!

Glenn hasn't been heard from since, although I could SWEAR that the guy wielding the riding crop in this video looks vaguely familiar...

INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!

(hat tip to Gerard of American Digest for the nightmare fuel).

Posted by: Harvey at 10:46 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 936 words, total size 6 kb.

(A FILTHY LIE)

I was snowed in all week, but a friend of mine who lives in Memphis did me the favor of rooting through Evil Glenn's trash to see if there were any tell-tale indicators of how Glenn spent his lottery winnings.

There was surprisingly little to find. Seems most of Glenn's trash cans are filled with full bottles of Thunderbird, Night Train, and MD 20/20. Hobo-bait, I guess.

But there was one small bag of actual trash. In amongst the bloodied clumps of fur were 4 interesting items. All innocent by themselves, but put them together, and a pattern emerges.

First, this list titled "Flavors":

Affenpinscher
Afghan Hound
Airedale Terrier
Akita
Alaskan Malamute
American Eskimo Dog
American Foxhound
American Staffordshire Terrier
American Water Spaniel
Anatolian Shepherd Dog
Australian Cattle Dog
Australian Shepherd
Australian Terrier
Basenji
Basset Hound
Beagle
Bearded Collie
Bedlington Terrier
Belgian Malinois
Belgian Sheepdog
Belgian Tervuren
Bernese Mountain Dog
Bichon Frise
Black and Tan Coonhound
Black Russian Terrier
Bloodhound
Border Collie
Border Terrier
Borzoi
Boston Terrier
Bouvier des Flandres
Boxer
Briard
Brittany
Brussels Griffon
Bull Terrier
Bulldog
Bullmastiff
Cairn Terrier
Canaan Dog
Cardigan Welsh Corgi
Cavalier King Charles Spaniel
Chesapeake Bay Retriever
Chihuahua
Chinese Crested
Chinese Shar-Pei
Chow Chow
Clumber Spaniel
Cocker Spaniel
Collie
Curly-Coated Retriever
Dachshund
Dalmatian
Dandie Dinmont Terrier
Doberman Pinscher
English Cocker Spaniel
English Foxhound
English Setter
English Springer Spaniel
English Toy Spaniel
Field Spaniel
Finnish Spitz
Flat-Coated Retriever
French Bulldog
German Pinscher
German Shepherd Dog
German Shorthaired Pointer
German Wirehaired Pointer
Giant Schnauzer
Glen of Imaal Terrier
Golden Retriever
Gordon Setter
Great Dane
Great Pyrenees
Greater Swiss Mountain Dog
Greyhound
Harrier
Havanese
Ibizan Hound
Irish Setter
Irish Terrier
Irish Water Spaniel
Irish Wolfhound
Italian Greyhound
Japanese Chin
Keeshond
Kerry Blue Terrier
Komondor
Kuvasz
Labrador Retriever
Lakeland Terrier
Lhasa Apso
Löwchen
Maltese
Manchester Terrier
Mastiff
Miniature Bull Terrier
Miniature Pinscher
Miniature Schnauzer
Neapolitan Mastiff
Newfoundland
Norfolk Terrier
Norwegian Elkhound
Norwich Terrier
Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever
Old English Sheepdog
Otterhound
Papillon
Parson Russell Terrier
Pekingese
Pembroke Welsh Corgi
Petit Basset Griffon Vendéen
Pharaoh Hound
Pointer
Polish Lowland Sheepdog
Pomeranian
Poodle
Portuguese Water Dog
Pug
Puli
Rhodesian Ridgeback
Rottweiler
Saint Bernard
Saluki
Samoyed
Schipperke
Scottish Deerhound
Scottish Terrier
Sealyham Terrier
Shetland Sheepdog
Shiba Inu
Shih Tzu
Siberian Husky
Silky Terrier
Skye Terrier
Smooth Fox Terrier
Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier
Spinone Italiano
Staffordshire Bull Terrier
Standard Schnauzer
Sussex Spaniel
Tibetan Spaniel
Tibetan Terrier
Toy Fox Terrier
Vizsla
Weimaraner
Welsh Springer Spaniel
Welsh Terrier
West Highland White Terrier
Whippet
Wire Fox Terrier
Wirehaired Pointing Griffon
Yorkshire Terrier

Second, a printout of the Ellington's Puppy Emporium home page.

Third, a catalog from World Wide Kitchens. Page 78 was dog-eared and contained the following picture:

(click to enlarge)

So it looks like he's re-stocking his fridge and upgrading his kitchen appliances.

But he could've done that before. Where does the $100 million come in?

Well, I don't have all the answers, but judging by the final item:

I think Evil Glenn is using the money to start a puppy-shake franchise.

And he must be stopped!

INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!

Posted by: Harvey at 09:28 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 524 words, total size 4 kb.