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Questionable artwork and pedantic miscellany
February 14, 2020
However, a federal court dismissed the suit on the grounds that the GoodTimes packaging (with an enormous, mustached, genie with gold or orange coloring) was sufficiently distinct from the Disney images (with an enormous, non-mustached, blue genie).[1]

oh cow! a free trial ON THEM! DISNEY is PAYING the FEE for you! except it isn’t, it has billions of dollars and could still turn a massive profit if it offered this streaming service for free. and every other service that charges gives you a MONTH free trial. it is the mark of a true price gouging monster giving you less than half as much and still presenting it like a favor. maybe the logic in the board room was that a consumer could theoretically watch all the original content in a month and dump the service without paying anything. right as you could with netflix or hulu, which are known to have loads of new shows but few good ones;

even Nick Nolte’s mugshot has its own show on Netflix, for example, and they still stay in business, very good business. this, like EVERY other thing the disney company has done in my life time and before, is inherently hostile to buyers and uses its inescapable socialized influence on children as leverage to force parents, and you can see below that the box text addresses “parents” directly, into paying through the nose and any other accessible orifice. disney has a CENTURY’s worth of its own content plus the loads it has acquired in the past few years that now can’t be gotten anywhere else, plus multiple generations of wealthy imbeciles who shill its properties at every opportunity without any compensation, and still wants to use this “look at how we’re losing on the deal” marketing. Look I am so angry I don’t even care that somebody of approximately equal mental function to myself brought froot loops into the house.

the back of a cereal box has never been the place for literary excellence but as a child I reckon I could think of few things less interesting than a big AD directed at my parents. I am no toucan sam apologist but the bird has some interesting colors.
The box doesn’t actually say what the monthly charge IS, another sign of a shifty, shifty business, so I had to look it up on my own, which means now every robot tracking me knows I willingly looked up information on disney plus and will gladly interpret that as me approving of it and a sign that it needs to shove more disney plus ads at me since plainly I am not getting enough unsolicited information about it.
The cost per month turns out to be is $6.99, which doens’t seem too bad, but Hulu’s lowest rate is $5.99. Although with tax that now comes to 6.37. Hulu of course has advertisements, but the point is mootly since disney doesn’t NEED ads since it OWNS everything it broadcasts, and furthermore ALSO owns hulu. This IS an improvement from ye olde disney channelle which DID have repetitive shrill ads for disney products and nothing else, even during programming designed to not have commercial breaks, but i suppose they figure with a slightly less captive audience who pay specifically for the access they can’t get away with that as easily.

Immediately beneath Marvel Logo, the Series, is something called “togo.” am i really to believe disney has made a feature about Duke Togo, Golgo 13? Or is it a documentary about Togo, the African country where nemitz rigged elections? I don’t know and I aim not to know.
but ONCE AGAIN i looked it up anyway!
apparently Togo is about a real sled dog named Togo, and its primary reason for existing, as best I can tell, is to finally stick it to Balto, the also real dog who did slightly less than Togo in the same historical event but got more credit and inspired the Balto film series which while worthy of derision is notable for being a rare, presumably lucrative talking dog franchise that Disney does NOT own or get any money from, which they just aren’t having, here OR Togo.

November 3, 2013
The driver told police an undisclosed amount of cash and pizza were stolen, plus the man’s cellphone and wallet.

I should be able to get out an update for Monday the gosh eleventh, unless something stupid has already happened.


I was going to speak today about some of the election day signs I had seen recently but news with more bearing on society has come to my attention: Another Air Buddies sequel.

You might be aware that “Air Bud” was a real dog who could do a simple trick that involved jumping and assisting an already tossed ball through a basketball-themed hanging hoop, and a more impressive trick that involved tolerating John Stamos. You might also recall that through a trail of events too stupid to be analyzed without special protection (imagine a solar eclipse of inanity; you cannot take it in all at once without taking permanent damage) , a fictionalized version of Air Bud begat 5 offspring dogs who could legitimately play all manner of sports and also talk, which these days is no longer in itself an adequately impressive skill for a fictional dog to have.
Consider that the Air Buddies first appeared in Air Bud 3: World Pup, released in 2000. Or don’t, and I will in your place. The original Air Bud dog was 9 to 12 years old when he became dead. The air buddies are now older than their father was at the time of his death, but are still puppies. Never mind that Air Bud was dead before Air Bud 3 entered production, and these puppies must then be children of the replacement Bud. That does not matter.

oh pog, does anything matter?

What matters is that these puppies could speak human language, play every sport, and never got old, and that wasn’t enough. Now, these dogs are superheroes, with [additional] magical powers, and costumes to match.

These dogs have secret identities. Nobody must know that these 5 talking dogs with magical powers that are puppies permanently are in reality the 5 talking dogs that magically can play sports and also never mature into adulthood. Because that would compromise the safety of their families of non-magical, regularly-aging dogs (even the replacement Bud stopped appearing after 2008’s Snow Buddies, which is ironic considering all the puppies that did not survive production). Mysteriously, their new powers such as the ability to create dogsized clothing, since letting anyone else do it would give up the secret identities) are granted by rings, but nothing is said of the other mystical devices that grant the power for pawed quadrupeds to comfortably and effectively equip jewelry designed for human fingers that do not regularly bear one fourth of the owner’s weight.

This film carries the insipirational message “you don’t need super powers to be a superhero,” despite the premise conspicuously and deliberately contradicting that.

Its true power is making a 3d-animated movie titled “epic” in 2013 seem original and inspired by comparison, so that I don’t even acknowledge it for three paragraphs, although super buddies tempt fate by making certain to use the word anyhow. Or maybe that is simply a condition for gaining financial backing now.

You know (for if you did not previously I now alert you), after five Police Academy movies they stopped making money. The problem with those is that they didn’t target a demographic that would gladly watch the same movie repeatedly, over and over until the sun turned into a prune. A demographic whose choices are commonly made for it, whom nobody is concerned about insulting or utterly blotting out the intelligence of. The formula is perfect: a parent, or a friend (enemy?) of a parent will see a movie like this and buy it with no thought and imagine a child will want to watch it. One less gift to buy later, right? It will not be vetted for quality or originality, ever, and this can be repeated every single year, even though no child should stay that easily entertained for so many years as to risk running out of these. But that could be pre-911 thinking on my part; the more kids are raised on limitless quantities of trash, the more likely they are to grow into adults who think trash is good, which is very good for business, because trash is easy to create. Those people who made all the hacky Cinderella and Lion King sequels must feel like idiots now, wasting all that time and effort redoing the same schlock repeatedly but with different sets of characters in different environments when but 1 done with minimal effort would suffice.

This is the seventh Air Buddies film, which does NOT include the first Air Bud series, which included five films . This also does not include the two Santa Paws films [that we know of], which are themselves spun off from the air buddies spin off series. Almost all of these were directed by somebody named Robert Vince, who seems to have literally come from nowhere.

Outside this series, he directed four movies with chimpanzees as main characters (three of them about a chimpanzee who can also play every sport, while the fourth one is a ninja) plus a single movie about a dog who neither speaks nor plays sports, but does fulfill another standby of the nobody cares if a g-rated movie is dumb genre by having kids keep the dog a secret from their parents for [maybe a] reason. They probably keep the dog a secret because he can’t talk or play sports.

As best I can figure out, these all make heaps and beeps of money, but criticism is subdued because they aren’t released to theaters, and are “for kids” anyway, though that Smurfs sequel still made a profit of 200 million dollars, and that was 200 million dollars LESS than the first one. There is literally no financial incentive to make a movie –or any manner of product– for children that is not idiotic, tacky and proud of itself.
If you add in 3 Beverly Hills Chihuahuas and Raise the Woof, The Disney company has, since 2006, put out twelve talking dog films. Talking dog movies are nothing new, but there has never been this much nothing new at any previous point in history. I exclude Bolt, because that is legally a cartoon, in which it is not significant that a dog speaks, though it also carries the message that you don’t need super powers to be a hero, and also does not consider the dog’s speech to be a super power. I consider a “talking dog film” to be one in which real dogs, or computer puppets meant to be thought of as real, are presented as if they speak English and do extraordinary deeds in situations that are meant to be remotely plausible. Three of theses were released just in 2012. There are adolescent-age children growing up who think this is normal. They have no memory of a time when there wasn’t a new canine enunciation fest every single year. Additionally, there are five editions in a Tinker Bell series, with 2 more already in production. The sixth was going to be released this year, but was shoved aside to make room for Planes (about talking, celebrity-voiced airplanes), a spinoff from the Cars series (about talking, celebrity-voiced cars), which Disney doesn’t even own, and also aims to have its own series.

What does all this mean? It means that I need to stop bringing my camera into Wal Mart. Even if I only go in there three times a year it is statistically probable that there will be a “new” bad talking dog movie for sale and I will have to write about it. Even this website object is an uninspired sequel. No more talking dogs!

Now if’n you ask Ol’ Roy, this is a classic example of what happens when you try and sweep a cat under the bridge. Early to bed, early to bird, after all. It’s the elephant in the corner, if you will.

I will not. I want you to leave.

If you want a ballpark figure, birds of a feather weather wisely. Unless you’ve been living under a duck, it’s high time of month. Ol Roy’ll tell ya.

November 22, 2012
Graham carries a large empty bag once occupied by dried peas

Ehhhhhhhhhhh better make that friday. Thursday will be big trouble, in addition to my art show. I didn’t have time to make something presentable about it and I assume nobody would see the notice here who could go, anyhow. Really, I “can’t” even go but I have to so that is the way it goes, and how I also go.


I’ll make a deal with you: I’ll post something new and reminiscent of coherence on Thursday, December 13, and in exchange you can can read it for me afterward.


It has been strange watching Pokemon go from a laughable fad that anyone could find themselves mysteriously gay for liking to an unreproachable culture source that I’m socially inadequate for not keeping up on the latest full price, buy twice developments of

I think this is the longest bimshwel has gone without a regular “dated” update since I started giving significance to what level of effort justifies dating one. See, we’re still innovating and cutting edges! Also, “we” is still just me.


My initial response to lasagna was negative because it did not look like the brown treaded lump in a steel dish from Garfield comics.

why does adding “i’m sorry” to a rejection make it seem like an accusation of insolence more so than a simple no?

Twinkies are like the Peanuts animated specials: nobody who grew up with a choice wants anyhing to do with them.

i get weirder as i get older, but weirdness itself gets normaller

The fraternity you join after getting boiling pasta flung at you: Phi Thetacini


biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig trouble!


You know, I knew, I can understand liking the limited assortment of complacent, still rerun ehtoons of the recent past and thinking them the epitome of memorable animation. They were at the right place at a right time, maybe they were clever, given the right array of influences, and not everybody is the frustrated, jealous visual artist that I am. The programs often had a captive audience with no standards who would become endeared to the product simply through familiarity before they developed the ability to be disgusted by something they couldn’t put in their mouths. That’s the same/only possible way The Smurfs cartoon got popular a decade prior, and how Disney can financially justify splitting the talking dog movie market that it’s already cornered.

Also, to guarantee credibility, Knockoff 12 cent cgi movie company competitor has produced a sequel to a creepy fish movie that for all I know never existed.

But that song, from the 1990s, TAhhhhhhaaaam to taaaaake uwollll dereeeeee guro da con ba day da! that was NEVER good. even when Kris Kross and The Offspring and MC Rollodonuts were good that was bad. I don’t have any memory associated with it; I have no idea when it appeared. One day it had suddenly always been there and awful, just like Pari Shilton. I’ve never heard anybody complain about the song, because it’s so pathetic and unremarkable that as soon as you’re done suffering through it you forget you heard it. Is it Hooty and the Bowties? is it Pearl Jim? Is it Creeb? Is it some other band that’s so generic that it’s just “band?” (probably not; I’m pretty sure Band made that “deet deet deet deet Olliday ohh olliday” song that was in every ad a year ago). I’ve complained about verses in american songs not mattering and only existing to fill space, but I can’t even remember this song having any. It has that crummy, moany, waking up at 4am with the radio on chorus and then a total memory void.

I was recently reassaulted with the song because the studio art classes at this university like to have terrible radio stations playing during class hours, to increase the challenge, I suppose, since this is COLLEGE and making art would otherwise be too fun to be called work. While hearing it, I started to type this, and the rest is misery.

I needed to know whose song it was, to have a proper, informed scorn about it, and I decided to start my investigation with the Hooty crewty. “Although Hootie & the Blowfish aren’t innovative, they deliver the goods,” says some quote on the wuhkapedia page by somebody who hopes we imagine he knows what he’s talking about. What is “the goods?”

It’s a box filled with undistinguishable trinkets labelled “goods.” It’s the goods for useless radio stations that aren’t allowed to play songs that anybody in the audience might not have heard 300 times already without electing to. They’re like Bacardi and Cola: They get “the job” done with the minimum amount of exertion or people pleased. A perfect match. Perhaps Too perfect…

No it is highly imperfect and thus I am discontent.

I assure you those numbers are very important to the people who maintain this neutral tone shrine.

I thought the song must be “time,” because that’s the only definite word I can make out in it, off the Hootly album “cracked rear view.” The album title does not include “…mirror.” The hootsters got bored with the name before they finished it.

And so, after the first three singles on the album suddenly that one doesn’t have its own wikipitya write-up, which is consistent with my belief that nobody is truly aware what it is because they lose all motivation to live during the length of it. They’re so concerned with dissuading themselves from suicide afterward that they forget most of what they heard. It’s so bad they couldn’t pay attention to the song after it either. Which is probably for the best since that is about drowning. Even participants who willingly purchased the album and have access to the details printed on its materials and believe it is their calling in life to make encyclopedia entries for all commercial properties (for they are notable through having been sold) won’t bother. At best they could read the title and length off of the packaging. It’s almost 5 minutes long, which is 3 minutes longer than such a pathetic song needs to do everything it is going to, which leaves lots of time for repetition and unremarkable instrument solos, so to better create the impression that Time itself has ceased to function.
Even knowing the danger, I had to be sure. For you, I endangered myself. In fact, “Time” is not the song I thought, but a song I’ve never heard before that’s even more mumbly and depressing. However, as I said I’ve never heard it before, which means nobody has by now made it their agenda to force me to, which means I have less of a quarrel with it. Alas, however, my curiosity renews! It won’t kill the cat but it may cause the cat to kill itself. What a scheme!

Yet more later, I deduced that after the word “time” came “to take,” because, it was, and I encouraged the google autocomplete system to provide “her home” after it. “Time to Take Her Home,” is the line, so stuff her in the trunk and don’t do anything suspicious. It serves as a a misattributed title for a song called Big Empty. And indeed it is! The song was caused by some Stone Temple Pilots. A band so bland I forgot IT existed. I knew they were out there, but I assumed they crashed in the Himalayas at some point and were reduced to cannibalism to prolong futile survival of the dominant members. I also didn’t know any of the songs they did. This is no mere phantom song, it is an entire phantom disco-graphy.

I only know Stone Temple Pilots really happened because my old brother told me when I was of 12ish years that I resembled the lead pilot of Stone Temple Pilots and that always stuck in my mind even though I didn’t know what they did apart from fly around in houses of worship constructed from pre-industrial materials. I still thought I liked songs other people liked so I continued to listen to radio stations and would hear promotions like “featuring GREEN DAY and RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS and PURPLE HORSESHOES and STONE TEMPLE PILOTS” but I lacked the presence of mind to inquire about their contribution, which is probably the way they like things.

Appropriately enough, Big Empty is also just under 5 minutes long. That’s just the rule. Rules are very important to classic rock radio stations.

People who bow before “rock” think they’re rebellious FREE SPIRITS but they are just as set in someone else’s nonsensical ways as whatever they claim to be better than. I heard two songs off the same bon jovi album in an hour on this station. Why is there a human being speaking between songs? An aphid could do this job. It’s not even an album I have more bad associations with than good but they probably play those songs every single day. We don’t need naow, thote controwl. Education is thought control but musical indoctrination is STICKING IT to THE MAN [who provides the indoctrination].ha ha we’ll throw in something brih-ish from the 1970s so we’ll seem deep and worldly! They play that song every day, too! People who listen because they want to probably think that song is called “Pink Floyd.” We just brought you some Bon Jovi, Stone Temple Pilots and Pink Floyd. Coming up in the next half hour is that also. Don’t try and implicate me in this! I refuse to we with you!
That same radio has been on in this same art class for 4 weeks or so and I’ve heard “Under Pressure” at least 3 times. I thought it was just somebody’s crummy mix cd, but it’s a real radio station! It’s a slightly longer crummy mix cd with advertisements in it. If this was a mix cd I probably would have heard that song with the whistling by now or “take only what you neeeeed family of treeeees pathetic 3 second shrill synthesizer loops repeated forever that somehow comes up regardless of music imposition method.” That song’s so bad that it has applause dubbed into it so I’ll think I like it.

And we don’t CARE about the old folks! All we care about is TALKING! and WHISTLING! We like noises from mouths because we’re YOUNG and WITH IT. Yet somehow there’s some 40-ish sounding man going on between the songs, as if anything new might possibly have occurred. Although it is my intent not to listen; he might well be a recording also. The entire broadcast day might be a 24 minute loop, like in those grand heft otto games, except I don’t get to express my frustration on imaginary pedestrians who exist solely for that purpose.

And don’t forget “Fireflies,” the eyerollingest song of 2010. I say that rhetorically; I would forget if I could. I can actually hear the rectangular framed glasses and really tiny above-chin beard that looks more like negligent shaving than a deliberate appearance choice. The songs are all NEW but the BAD is all old. Even when the style is different, the typicality and bland formulas and people who don’t get irritated by daily repetition are the same.

anda feeeeeeeeeel-innnn yabbadobbafibbagobbabreebaawmeeplesworth. I think that’s a different band, only because my old brother used to have the album with that song on it and i never heard the other one. This is the same brother that compared me to a stone temple pilot. I wish I had realized at the time that he was trying to train me for this. Then I might have told him how stupid this is and to cancel the whole thing. I permit that song to exist because it tries something strange, but it can be annoying when every male vocalist thinks he needs to use a strained old man voice to be taken seriously and I can’t tell them apart.

Last year I was in this same room with a different teacher, who put on a slightly different radio station. I will attempt to integrate that complaint into this one, because I believe in civil rights.

There are hundreds of thousands of recording artists now and even more throughout the field’s existence. There is no reason this radio station needs to play two John Mayer songs, much less ones I’ve heard before, but that I can’t tell apart until the chorus part, in less than that many hours.

I’m also pretty sure I heard the “i’ll catch a greNADE forya” guy more than once, “when i see your FACE there’s not a THING that i would change, cuz you’re aMAZEing” people complain about Justin Beeper with this sleazephozo on the loose? Yes I’m aware I said the exact same thing there. However, I actually haven’t written that yet! These songs are so awful they are distorting time!

By the radio station’s bragline of the best mitz of the 80s, 90s, and “today” there are thirty two years of junk to choose from. How does “life is a high weight” come up twice? Oh excuse me the second one is an irritating auto-tune remake that is fundamentally the same apart from the singer sounding like a robot that wears a cowboy hat. Don’t remake a song if it’s going to sound the same. Don’t remake a song if it’s going to sound like a totally different song. Don’t remake songs!
According to my needless research, that edition of the song was included in the “game” Lego Rock Band,

which lost a family award to itself, challenged by yet one other version of itself, plus a different game that appeared twice. I’d say it’s not gay folk and single parents that are devaluing the family experience. Here’s how that must work:
We have developed a new media property!
Is it good?
Does it have any conflict or remotely challenging concepts?
Does it have swear words or sex in it?
Sir I assure you it lacks everything.
Does it emulate stuff people could do without $500 worth of video game junk?
Does it have lots and lots of sponsorships and corporate branding?

I don’t think even Tetris would make this list, just because there’s a possibility of someone getting mad if the bricks fell too fast.

And now crummy record stores can claim to carry video game music, even if it’s only from games whose music is exclusively comprised of songs off of radio stations.

Wow i could listen to your ads and random song selection at random parts of the day or just buy a 20 year old bad Green Day seedy. Or continue to listen to whatever song I want without any ads ever, which this society pretty much requires everybody to own the technology to do so with anyhow. The promotion on this sign would have been clever in 1992 and perhaps temporarily bearable. The station is proud that it’s been playing the same songs for 20 years. I am not opposed to old songs. I am opposed to assigned, self-satisfied devotion to old songs.
Unlike the trivial new junk, this will not be tossed out after some predefined period. It will linger miserably forever until some band member is accused of having inappropriate relations with children, at which point it will be suspended until that person dies. I am also opposed to hating something just because it is old. I am opposed to doing something just because of something else, apart from mere enjoyment or kindness. I have difficulty believing anyone really enjoys green day consistently, and green day does not appreciate your friendly gesture.

There is inevitable depressing typicality overwhelming my existence in those rooms. On the rare occasion I haven’t heard a song before, I will keep hearing it so that I can no longer make such a claim.
Moderation and subtlety do not exist. Not surprisingly, this school plops out a heaply helping of bland, indistinguishable painters. Maybe all the schools do. Maybe I have wasted the last [number] of years in my life and should have gotten a job and made art in my spare time and not put so much needless anxiety into receiving certification from people who regularly certify bums with no skill or creative ambition. Maybe I just need to remember to bring in my earphones and some adequately charged counter-noise producing object next time.

You may think I exaggerate the incapacitation inflicted on me by noises of typicality that I cannot control, Though I am not physically I harmed, the primary negative affect it has on me is that I write long, meticulous documentation of my irritation instead of finishing my art projects. Being annoyed shifts my priority to how annoyed I am. And if there’s any traffic freport that’s worth a “follow me on twitter,” it wasn’t the one I heard that in.

Imagine a whole city built around radio. In addition to the harm it does me it horrifies young children with its harsh wintry climate that abruptly shifts to warm and tropical below three feet off the ground leading to incongruous clothing choices among women of eerily uniform heights, a baffling distraction that gives the ghost santas just enough time to carry out their abductions without opposition.

February 26, 2011
SMILE for Ted KOPPEL, Officer MAR-IN

I went shopping today and bought you some more equals symbols.


Oh I forgot to show this on Friday. Aw beets. It was here but I didn’t do the thing that makes it visible to people who aren’t me. Now I did. Or have did. Or did have doned. This is probably unimportant. Here, have a bunch of equals symbols.


One of the things that surprised me most about fur-affinity (one of the websites where I post drawings (which evidently doesn’t include this one since I keep forgetting to do that)) that I can share here was that people apparently liked the movie Bolt. While certainly I was surprised when I learned people liked Balto, a lot, it has been rather a few years ago since I made that discovery and across time got over and forgot the shock of it. Who would have thought that moving the O over two spaces and dropping the A would also be a recipe for talking dog movie success?

The first I learned of bolt, I was getting some meatloaf or something (I have encountered some dishes in my time which could be both) and I heard the television ad, and I knew it was a disney movie just by the voices. NONE A YOUR POW WERS AREEEEEEEAL! I remember thinking: Disney’s already cornered the market on talking dog cinema. Why mock us like this?

And then more recently…

Disney made a dog movie that’s ALSO a christmas movie. This is GUARANTEED to be a hit, even if the dogs neither speak English nor play sports, and none of the people who buy it are furries. It’s so lazy they didn’t even try to work an unfunny dog pun into the inane, pandery tagline “Meet Santa’s BFF!” For one thing, I hardly think an immortal elf can expect to be best friends forever with an animal whose lifespan rarely exceeds 20 years. Ga ha, burned ’em! (Or should I say ICED ’em! (No, I should not)) Oh how I pine for the days of “Raise the WOOF.” (that coincidentally starred Tim Allen, who is in Christmas movies in addition to dog movies, and regardless of whether he’s Santa Claus.) You could say the pun’s already in the title, but two questions about that: how is it possible nobody had made a movie called Santa Paws before now and what are the chances its sequel will introduce a cat and be called Santa Claws? As inadvisable and awful as raise the woof was, at least I’d never heard it before. Anyway, this has been out for over a month (or two (or three)), so merry post-dog movie Christmas, animal shelters!

Also, the last time I mentioned fur-business, I felt need to distance myself from it. However, that’s what furries do. They draw arguably eroticized fetishy mutant nonsense and then declare themselves better than the other fetish mutants who provide their entire online imaginary livelihood. So then I had to explain that my own characters don’t count as that somehow, and then this idiot showed up:

You think just because you suddenly have antlers you can sass me? Well you can’t, and I won’t tolerate it.

What proof do we have that its name is even really “”nemitz?”” Drrrrrrrgggggg This fiend just enjoys life. YES THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THAT. If that’s the life it enjoys. If it’s nemitz. Or whatever this thing is which claims to be nemitz. Or rather this thing that just says “nemitz” for no reason, like it’s a sentence. “Nemitz” is not a statement! It communicates no information. That does not justify a period. Unless it’s a period during which punishment takes place.

Nobody cares!

Nemitz is dangerously delusional if it thinks it gets official representatives… it thinks it’s too special to negotiate directly with the common people. I should take control of this page and just post insulting things about nemitz. That would show it.

Nemitz is half as popular as Madmartigan on facebook. That means two nemitzes could potentially beat Madmartigan in a fight. That is not good. Actually two nemitzes in general is not good. nemitz should not be permitted on the premises. or the nemtzes.

When I’m through, all nemitz “surveys” will be the interior of a suitably sized waste receptacle.
Nemitz needs to hop in a dumpster posthaste. Although “hop” sounds mildly enjoyable. Nemitz needs to be dropped off a roof into a dumpster and then wallow there miserably.

So I am just letting you know this, in case you were curious.

Eh well I’m sure you have very important things on your mind.

April 23, 2010
Haunting Starring Polterguy™

Remind me to tell you about raisins sometime sometime.


Can that detection system truly be at all reliable if this shady character can climb right through the not-allowed symbol without anyone noticing? Clearly this is not the service to protect your mailbox with.

Now nobody’s safe. Even the trees are after our mail.

Our precious frozen mail crystals. This stuff is important!

Our top story: a snowflake done showed up!

Well it SHOULD. These laws are outdated and irrelevant! The international community is doing NOTHING to address the threats of modern times.

After them, you fools! Are you truly going to let them get away with it? He can’t possibly hit ALL of you with his ninja stars! Arrgh, they think they’re so cool!

Once again it’s up to the blessed corporations of the world to make the best of a bad situation.

Now all that’s left is to proofread this to make sure it forms a coherent narrative. So hopefully I’ll get to that one of these days.

October 3, 2008
I’m more American than apple pie. I’m like apple pie… with a hot dog in it.

Yes, unnamed orange font commentator, “Disney has done it again.”
Opening today, which is apparently last week, is Beverly Hills Chihuahuahuahuahua. This is an exciting period we live in. It’s time for a whole new generation of kids to get sick of chihuahua jokes. I never thought I’d get to a point where I was nostalgic for the tasteful subtlety of the Taco Bell dog.
This brings together so many of disney’s favorite things: kidnapped dogs, talking dogs, affluent communities and racial stereotypes which are still socially acceptable to tackily exploit.

It is my personal belief that no terribly intelligent movie has been made in which a dog is kidnapped. Yet Disney has molded pretty much a genre out of that happening. The decision to have them kidnapped into Mexico was no doubt inspired by the unsatisfactory mortality rate when they are kidnapped to cold places.

I imagine some point in the distant future when I will say to my brothers’ grandchildren, “why, I can still remember when there were only seven Air Bud sequels!”
A wise human, the wisest, in fact, once remarked “Talking dog could enslave humanity.” Maybe this is how. I have to think that with every year we, as a species, become less and less valuable as potential slaves due to that which we occupy our time and so develop various strengths and senses with, but it may be enough simply to have us unable to fight back. Ehhh, and yet I am suddenly wondering how the Beverly Hills chihuahuas will return home without use of, as the Airbuddies* wikipedia page puts it, “the uncanny ability to play every sport.” Is it worth nine dollars, what remains of my self-respect and possible tyrannical dominion by wise-crackin’ four legged overlords to find out?

Oh deef, what have I done?

*according to my periodic table of video game elements, the next movie, Earth Buddies, will involve the dogs being kidnapped by mole people, only to be rescued at the end and taken yet further down by Satan, hinting at the inevitable follow up Fire Buddies.

One thing I hate (I’m glad it’s just the one!) about ‘blogs’ is their tendency to, as a collective unit, constantly re-use the same picture while making the exact same commentless acknowledgments of popular news stories and filling up google image search with useless copies. For example, I recently wanted a picture of a rat ear and all I could find were numerous instances of the exact same picture of some poor mutated rodent with a human ear stuck to its back. “Mouse ear” gave the same, despite quite a few actual differences between rats and mice. Most evident here, that “rat ear” does not bring follow up results for stupid Disney World hats. And so I thought a dog ear would do just as well. Specifically from a chihuahua sort of dog, but in all honesty I was worried about turning up pictures related to recent media I may or may not just have complained about. So I searched for “dog ear” and got pictures of fences for some reason. Rage. That makes about as much sense as political commentary from the Scary Movie 4 team.

Oh, are we doing this today? Very well, if I must. I suppose it’s either this or whine about Sarah Palin again, ehhh? That’s good in limited amounts, but It’s like Junior Mints. But fear not: this is slightly less horrible than the last thing I hid under an “aw naw” link. I’m just trying to cut down on bandwidth. Because I use so much.
Aw naw!

Nobody I know has a website anymore

Mr. Sr. Mxy
Gilhodes (bah you need a facebook account to see)
video game music database
pacific novelty
Green Lantern Head Trauma

them`s fightin` woids: April 8, 2020
Frimpinheap sez:
I am still here but I get email notices any time somebody posts a comment! i suppose it is funny...
April 8, 2020
kefka12 sez:
Reading through our old convos was a trip down memory lane! Can’t believe it’s been 12...
April 7, 2020
Charmlatan sez:
Thankful for the update. Maybe a change in scenery might cheer elpse up!
April 1, 2020
Dhraiden sez:
Keep Far (from these) Beets? Keep Full Beets? Kindly Filch (these) Beets? Kraptastically fine beets?
March 29, 2020
Frimpinheap sez:
I most certainly will not say that!
March 29, 2020
Honker Acorn Jr. sez:
You might say Treco is giving the bow tie fool… …a beet down.
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