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4/27/2004

... we will be back in Fallujah. It will be at the time and place of our choosing. We will hunt down the criminals.
-Brig. Gen. Mark Kimmitt

I don't think sealing off the roads and refusing to let families go home for weeks, advising "bad guys" to get out of town, have silly negotiations to get the enemies' weapons and then carpet bombing the shit out of an entire city is really hunting "down the criminals.
"Hey, Mark, where are you going this weekend?"
"Well, Neil, I'm going hunting."
"Have you sealed off all the entrances to the forest yet?"
"Yep, I figure anything left in there come Saturday will be deer and not turtles or Iraqi children. Plus, I've been in negotiations to get all of the deer to turn over their horns."
"Are they complying?"
"Doesn't really matter, does it, Neil? Come Saturday morning I'm dropping bombs on Bambi! Hahahahahahaha!"
"Hahahahahaha! Stupid deer! Great white men!"
"Fuel up my F-16! We got Iraqi venison to kill!"

"Hi, my name's Dick and for the 9/11 Commission Talent Show I'm going to have my puppet George here sing 'Toxic' by Britnney Spears while I drink this glass of cover-up ... I mean water. Right, George?"
"I'm a fire hazard."

LET'S DORK!

Today I had an interview at Dream Job World.
"Brent," Kyle asked me, "what is your dream job?"
"Cigarette-smoker Porn Watcher!"
This place is almost that cool. I find out soon if I got it.
I'm whorish with anticipation.

Had a good-then-drunk-then-depressed-then-nappy weekend.
Saturday night R. Throaty (who supposedly "had a rushed tonsil removal surgery" today, A.K.A. "Brent rules at excuses to sneak out for interviews" "Brent, can you please lift this box to save the world?" "I would, but my arms are full of worms." "What?" "And I fell asleep." Back to ...) and I had people over to drink. I met lots of cool new people. I talked with tall and short people that I new (know), I drank lots of beer and vodka and touched R. booty.
Then came Sunday.
"Brent, we're a thrash metal band that is going to move into your body."
"I say, what?"
(Thrashing metalically in my head, stomach and soul) "YOU CAN'T RUN FROM THE DEVIL, HE PUTS HIS EVIL IN YOUR EYES AND BLEEDS OUT YOUR NOSE!"
"Prozac take me away!"
"THE DEVIL ATE YOUR PROZAC NEXT HE'LL EAT YOUR SOUL AND THEN YOUR FRIES FROM THE BOTTOM OF YOUR BURGER KING BAG!"
"What? He ate my bag fries? What kind of Devil is this?"
"HE'S A CONTRACT DEVIL WE HIRED HIM ON A TEMPORARY BASIS REALLY HE'S NOT THAT GOOD BUT WE'RE STILL GIVING HIM A CHANCE."
"That's nice of you."
"NO, IT'S EVIL!"
"Oh, right, that's "evil" of you."
"THANK YOU! THRASH METAL RULES!"
"Yes, it does Body Snatcher Band."

Hi, this is the part of Brent's brain that is not affected by cafeine and cable T.V. We have taken over because Brent has slipped into a creative coma, He has again lost track of where he was going with one of his silly conversations, we will return him shortly when ...

I Lead Pipe you, Mother fuckers!

Ok, dorks, so I had a goodish weekend and last night I bought Aqua Teen Hunger Force on DVDish. I can't wait to watch more of it! Body Snatcher Band, play me out! Later, dorks!
"WELL, THE DEVIL DON'T LIKE YOUR GRANDMA AND HE DON'T LIKE SHOPPING NEITHER BECAUSE HE'S THE KING DARK DEVIL AND THE LORD OF THE NETHER ... WORLD!"
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