Regardless of who is elected, (I think we all know who will win), I think about 70% of us can agree, that it will be a good thing to finally be rid of President George W. Bush.

On behalf of that 70% of Americans, and a large portion of the people of planet Earth, I would like to say the following to George.

Don’t let the door hit you in the ass.

I know you don’t understand why I do not appreciate your efforts to make sure Americans do not live in peace and prosperity, considering how much effort you have put into making sure that we won’t for quite some time.

Just sit back, and go on vacation in Crawford for the next two months, (it’s not like you haven’t spent more time on vacation than any other President in history), and try not to screw anything else up.

You may think I am mad about things like invading a country that had nothing to do with 9/11, or not capturing Osama Bin Laden. Maybe you think I am mad about your administration eroding our civil liberties. Maybe you think it is all the lies and secrecy of your administration.

Maybe you think it is because of your response to hurricane Katrina. You did lose a major port city on your watch. I know you did not create hurricane Katrina, but your response was a little lacking. But then again, you did need to prioritize the many responsibilities on your agenda and figured that going to John McCains birthday was more important than taking care of New Orleans after a disaster.

Maybe you think I am upset over the largest expansion of the Federal government since the New Deal, or the massive budget surplus that you turned into the largest budget deficit in U.S. history. Maybe you think it is because our economy is in the tank, and gas prices have skyrocketed. Maybe you think it is the high unemployment, and the housing crisis.

I must admit, I am not pleased with you and your administration over all of the above mentioned issues.

No, my biggest reason that I disapprove of you and your administration is that as a Texan, I have never been so embarrased to say I am from Texas as I have been these last eight years. There used to be a time that it was cool to be from Texas. Thanks for ruining that for me.

Fortunately, I haven’t traveled to other countries, but if I did, I would be embarrassed to say I was an American as well. Thanks for ruining that for me too. At least I could save some face by telling people in those countries that I never voted for you, not even as Governor of Texas.

And since we are on the Texas thing, what the hell is up with your accent? I have never heard anyone with your accent. I can usually tell what region of Texas a person is from by the accent. Is it a combo of North Texas and Kennebunkport? East Texas and Martha’s Vineyard? I can’t tell.

So, in summary, I would like to express my feelings by quoting your eloquent, Vice President, Dick Cheney, “Go f**k yourself.”

P.S. Don’t mess with Texas.

OK, I knew there was supposed to be a post for Monday, but I forgot that it needs to be posted on SUNDAY night.

This running a blog is harder and more complicated than I thought. There’s like details and stuff to attend to. I’m not sure I was prepared for that.

In my defense, I am the actor manager at a new haunted house, here in Austin and we had our dress rehearsal/trial run on Saturday.

Sunday, I had to spend time with the woman, and we went out and got a microwave oven for our new place, as well as unpacked a few things and tried to straighten up the place a bit.

Seriously, I love you guys, but if I took any time at all, not being with the girlfriend and focusing on “us” for the day, the rest of my week would be a pain in the ass. She’s great, but she is still a woman, and they demand time if you want to keep the peace in your house. So, young dudes, there is a piece of advice… if your woman is getting cranky with you, spend some time doing couple stuff and then give her a good poke at the end of the night and your life will be much smoother.

But, I digress. I also started back at Apple again. So I am a happy man, as it is the best place I have ever worked, but I had to make sure I was ready for my first day, so I kinda forgot to make a post.

In short, I have had a lot of other crap on my mind.

Fortunately, there were a few late submissions of weird stuff found on the web, to save my bacon during this massive screw up on my part. My apologies to all of our readers and to Skippy, (may he be merciful to me upon his return).

So, here are the fresh links.

Sweet Sister Morphine has definitely gone above and beyond with the following submissions about giant man eating badgers, the official response about the giant man eating badgers, a story about a dwarf, his penis and a vacuum cleaner, and a high-speed chase with someone who definitely should not be driving.

And finally, David sent this link of photos of a house that is so nasty, you will never feel like you are a slob again. Seriously, crack houses are better maintained than this.

Yesterdays post by me was just a test, to see who could follow instructions. And I would like to thank all of you who submitted items for todays posting. I will post them in the next entry, after this one.

But now that I know I have a strong contingent of followers, who will do as I command, it is time for me to decide whether I should raise an army or start my own religion.

If I were a peaceful man, I would raise an army, but I figure I can do more damage with a religion. Plus a religion will probably last longer than an army,too

At the moment we are just cult sized, and we all know that the only difference between a cult and a religion is numbers. If you don’t believe me, just ask a Scientologist or a Christian. They have been through this stage and eventually became full blown religions, with tax breaks and everything.

And on the third day, of the time with no Skippy, Pope Michiel commanded to reader and contributor alike, to go forth into the world and spread the word of the sacred List of Skippy, so that they may rejoice in its absurdities, and their lives will become full of meaning and purpose.

Pope Michiel spake, “Once we have shown enough people the joys of the sacred List, and they have joined us, Skippy will return once again, to show us… something of moderate importance.”

So go and witness to the unwashed masses and the washed ones too, (hygiene is not an issue since this is an internet site and we can not smell each other), of the difference that Skippy has made in your life. It does not matter how small the difference may be, or if it is something you would not even consider to be normally worth mentioning. Go. Spread the word of Skippy, and one day soon he will return to us.

If you wish to make offerings, I will set up a Paypal account, and for each dollar you give, I will absolve you of one sin. And based on what I know of you people, this should raise a LOT of money really fast.

Now, as a reward for your faithfulness, check out the submissions of random things found on the web by your fellow parishioners.

I was thinking that yesterdays post may have been a bit harsh. I let my new found power go to my head.

I don’t need to be an ego-maniacal dictator just because Skippy is incommunicado. No, this should be a fun time for all of us.

It’s like having mom and dad out of the house. We have an entire website devoted to humor, all to ourselves.

And you know what that means…

PARTY!

Oh, hell ya! We are going to party like it is 1999, (because those were better times for damned near everyone). So lets go nuts.

As a one time offer, I want submissions from all of you for the “Found on the Internet” section that Skippy does when he has nothing else to blog about.

Send me your favorite website, or video, or photo, or chain letter, or political joke that you received in an email from your liberal or conservative asshat of an uncle, or anything else on the web that you think a bunch of other people on the internet, that you don’t even know, need to see on a Friday morning.

If you got something you want to share with the class, send it to me, here, and I’ll post the best on the site.

It’s like what Booger from ‘Revenge of the Nerds’ told Tom Cruise’ character in ‘Risky Business’, “Sometimes you have to say, what the fuck.”

Right now, I am blogging with no pants. Just my shirt and underwear and sliding my computer across the floor to Bob Segar music. (This would probably be cooler if the song was not , “Turn the Page”).

So lets get some booze, broads, guns and fire engines, maybe even a donkey, and invite a few thousand of our closest friends and post a bunch of weird crap to the site. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody’s part, and we’re just the guys to do it.

LET’S DO IT!

And since we are talking parties, Lt. Ronald, in a brilliant stroke of synchronicity, actually submitted a post about parties… sort of. Enjoy.

Well, well, well.

Skippy and his wife are in the process of moving, and as of now, are no longer online for about a week or so.

In his infinite wisdom, Skippy has given me control of the website in his absence.

It is difficult to find the words to express how I feel about accepting this weighty responsibility of providing humorous material, for thousands of people to enjoy, while they screw around on the internet at work. But, I think Alexander Haig said it best, after the assassination attempt on Ronald Reagan, when he said, “I’m in charge.”

Or maybe it was Star Scream from the Transformers during one of the many times he thought Megatron was dead. I’m not really sure.

The point is, that I now wield the cursor of doom, and all submissions must come through me for approval and editing.

For the next week I am your new god. Contributors will sing my praises, as I lift them up and publish their works for the whole world to see. Or… they will tremble in fear as I crush their dreams of blogging for a humorous military/gaming/geeky stuff website.

With me in charge, we shall experience what is best in life. To crush our enemies. To see them driven before us. And to hear the lamentations of their women.

All will kneel before Zod Michiel.

Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!

And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming with a short piece from our own Sgt. Brick.

Well, I needed to make a post since I have been gone for a while and I keep seeing the lists people submit that are similar to the Skippy List, but specific to their job/industry. I could do a nice long phone rep list, but I figure that has probably been done, and I am sure that if it has not, someone can write it.

So, I figured that my ten plus years working in haunted houses might work. So here is a list of things that I have been told not to do, heard about someone else being told, or I have had to tell another actor not to do in the haunted house.

1. Do not touch the customers.

2. Do not touch the customers inappropriately.

3. Do not touch the customers inappropriately, even if you are using a fake severed hand.

4. When, surrounded by severed body parts, covered in blood, wearing a diaper and slinging a table saw at people, it is not ok to have butt crack showing as some people will find it offensive.

5. Do not lick the customers.

6. Do not tell female customers you can smell their cunt.

7. Do not tell male customers you can smell their cunt.

8. Do not tell customers you can smell their “dunt,” because you are not fooling anyone.

9. Shocking customers with a stun gun will get you fired.

10. No humping the props in front of customers.

11. Rookies can not have an actual machete in their scene.

12. No one can have an actual machete in a scene with a strobe light.

13. If someone is so scared that they urinate on the floor, it is not ok to scare the next group into the puddle to “mop it up.”

14. It is not ok to laugh at a customer that ran straight into a wall.

15. It is not ok to laugh at a customer that ran straight into a wall, regardless of how funny it was.

16. Even if they bounced back several feet.

17. It is not ok to wear only a nuns habit and a garter belt before 11:00 PM.

18. It is not ok to spit directly into a customers ear.

19. Even if it was an unintentional result of giving a customer “the bronx cheer” while foaming at the mouth with Alka-Seltzer.

20. The Freddy glove is not to be used for sexual gratification.

21. If a co-worker has coulrophobia, it is not ok to walk them into the clown scene and yell, “get her.”

22. If a customer asks to leave early and requests to be escorted to the nearest exit, it is not ok to walk them through the rest of the house and claim it is a short cut.

23. Actually, 22 is OK.

Here are several things, that may be of interest, since I have not posted much lately, and am so tired, that I have no clue if any of it is interesting or entertaining, so I am loading up the blog shotgun and hopefully I’ll hit something.

We’ll start with where I have been.

Some of you may be wondering where the hell I have been. I’ll keep the answer/excuse short.

For the last couple months I have been working as a security guard for a local outdoor mall, in Austin, Texas, in the summer, during a drought and record heat, on various schedules that change from day to day. It is draining to say the least. It’s an easy job, but draining.

I also just started a new job doing phone support, and have been talking to local haunted houses, trying to decide which one I will work at.

The woman and I have also been looking for a place to move to, so that has eaten most of the spare time. We have to get out of this apartment. We have had a toilet that will randomly overflow for a couple of years now, in spite of numerous attempts by the landlord to get it fixed. But worst of all, are the upstairs neighbors.

The Upstairs Neighbors

They are a family of four; Dad, extremely large mom, extremely large teen aged daughter, and a three or four year old daughter. They are the noisiest people I have ever lived under. I am not sure they ever sleep, and if they do it is for about thirty minutes at an hour or so after dawn.

When they first moved in, they moved in after midnight as the dad had a night job and it was the only time they could do it. Sure it was annoying, but I understand. You got to move when you can move. But it seemed to take them a long time to move in. Somehow they were always banging things, dropping things, sliding things, and generally stomping around, and it has gone on for about two years.

I like to compare them to klutzes that enjoy rearranging their extensive bowling ball collection.

And you can hear every step they take. I am convinced they are part sasquatch, and I have almost injured myself several times when speaking to them in person, by trying to keep from saying, “gooney goo goo” to them. (Sorry for those of you that don’t get the reference, just watch this clip from “Raw” by Eddie Murphy and you will understand).

Fortunately, they are gone now, as the apartment management made them move to another apartment after years of complaints from us. We did not want to make them move, we just wanted them to settle down enough so we would not have to worry about our ceiling caving in. They even told us that the apartment management had informed them that if there was one more complaint they would make them move. So they came to talk to us.

We discussed the noise, how much of it, and how often. I even told them it sounded like they never stopped moving in, and even dropped the bowling ball collection analogy too. They tried to say that it was the little girl. Which I might buy, but the noise is all day, first thing in the morning and late into the evening, often til two or three AM that all this noise happened. So, I doubt it was all the toddler.

As they were leaving, my girlfriend overheard the mother tell the three or four year old that this was all her fault.

But they said they would stop, and they did. For one day.

We put up with the noise, not wanting to get them kicked out. So we resorted to the classic, banging on the walls and pounding the ceiling with a stick. All this did was irritate them and they would pound back.

Even so, we were not going to say anything, until they did something so profoundly stupid, we had to say something.

One day they were on a real tear, upstairs, and I banged on the ceiling, matching them, thump for thump. Then I get a knock on my door. It wasn’t the neighbors, but the Sheriff. He said that they had complained about the banging on the ceiling. I told him, that I was trying to get them to shut up, and invited him in for a listen, since they did not have the sense to settle down after calling the cops for my noise. He agreed with me and went and spoke to them about it, but that was the last straw, I wrote the apartment management and told them they needed to go.

Anyways they are gone, and I am working at another job, back on the phones doing support, and working security on the weekends. But at least I am getting a tad more sleep.

All this is why I have not written in a while as I am exhausted.

Oh well, on with the post I wanted to write.

They’ll Let Anyone Drive a School Bus.

While at work, I was talking to my best friend from childhood on the phone and we discussed an event that we still have a hard time believing actually happened.

When we were in middle school, the bus driver seemed to not like me much. I do not remember what asshatery I had done to deserve it, but at one point, he decided that I would have to sit in the front seat of the bus for the rest of the school year.

His name was Mr. Johns. Mr. Johns was a large man who should have his picture in the dictionary next to the word, “sweaty.” Sitting that close to him was not exactly pleasant on the olfactory senses, if you catch my drift. If not, I am sure there is still some of that odor drifting around somewhere, and eventually you may encounter it.

One day, my best friend, Ray, is sitting up front with me, as the bus traveled down the road towards school. At one point, Mr. Johns, turns to me, and says, “Mike, I want to show you something, so pay attention.”

“See that? That’s the emergency break. Let me show you how it works.”

He then pulled the brake and the bus came to an almost immediate stop from the thirty or forty miles an hour we had been doing. There were books everywhere, and I think everyone on the bus ended up flipping over their seats and landing in the seat in front of them.

It seemed weird, maybe even a bit crazy.

Then Mr. Johns continued, “That’s what I want you to do if something ever happens to me while driving this bus, like if I get shot or something. You stop the bus and let everyone out.”

He then removed the brake and took us to school.

For the last twenty five or so years since, Ray and I have yet to figure out what the hell that was all about. The next school year, we had a different bus driver. We have no clue what happened to Mr. Johns, but we assumed he got shot, or maybe had a heart attack from all the weight and the sweating he did. More than likely, he just got a job somewhere else, but we prefer to think he got shot.

We have no idea why someone would shoot him, but at least knowing that someone was really after him, makes the story make a bit more sense. Although, we still can’t figure out what he did, and who he pissed off so much that he didn’t even feel safe while driving a bus load of children around.

Another thing that has come up at work, is my new favorite song, that I have turned my coworkers on to.

My New Favorite Song

The video is ok, but it is the song I love, it is just catchy and wrong in all the right ways.

“Lotion” by the Greens Keepers

And finally, one other piece of awesomeness that I just could not leave out.

Click Here For Awesomeness

Awesomeness