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5/28/2004

It's 8:36 in the morning and I've run out of things to do.
I've been up since 5:30 this morning, dorks.
Just last year I would go to bed at that time. What have I become?

My father, Brent Sr., wakes up with the sun.
"Cock-a-fucking-do," says Brent Jr.
Brent Sr. now has to wear hearing aids at the age of, um, 52ish. He blames it on rock 'n' roll and woodworking.
"I'm sorry, R. Mumbles, could you repeat what you just said? I wasn't facing you while you were speaking and someone is playing a radio in Texas. Hard for me to hear you with all of those distractions," says Brent Jr.
Brent Sr. has the paitience of a "rabid wolf" (to quote my ma).
"Once upon a time ... fuck this," says Brent Jr.
Brent Sr. has the memory of a dead elephant.
"I'm out of food and toothpaste. Let's go to Kidco," says Brent Jr.
"You mean Winco?" says R. Girl-I'm-Pretty-Sure-I've-Been-Dating-For-Almost-A-Year.
"Yep, Spifco. Let me brush my teeth first," says who?


I have Monday off, that means if I can just play Statue game for 7 hrs. and 15 mins. I have a three day reward and a paycheck waiting for me.
Statue Game comencement in
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5/26/2004

Two voice notes left by yours truly on yours truly's cell phone.

5:16 p.m. 5/24/04
"1 cross + 3 Nails = 4given .... huh-huh-ha" (From a bumper sticker seen on the way home.)

1:05 a.m. 5/25/04
"The mullet joke is not funny anymore." (A truth discovered while P.B.R. influenced. And really it isn't, dorks. A dork who says, "Look a mullet" is really saying "Look, my dorkhead is full of Jello". A mullet joke is on the same level as a Monica Lewinsky joke now ... move on! The next big joke? Chicken legs! (on humans))

If it's not the sun
that gets you done
or great white sharks
that stop your heart
or killer bees,
or mad cow disease,
or sarrin gas,
or S-A-R-S,
then don't you dread
you'll still be dead
before summer's through
they'll still get you.
The terrorists, says Uncle Sam
have a scary summer plan
to murder and kill and poison and shoot,
maybe an explosion thrown in to boot!
So run, hide and cover your head.
Scream and cry 'til you see red.
And don't ask "Why?" "When?" or "Who?"
Cause Big Brother ... 'Cause Uncle Sam is there for you.




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5/25/2004

Correspondence from a letter briefly glanced over at the office today.
"I faxed her a check but then never heard from her again."

Maybe next time you should e-mail the check, Rubberhead. After that why don't you text message me a sandwich.

From cnn.com
Bush outlined five broad steps to restore Iraqi sovereignty and get the country back on its feet:

* Handing over authority to a sovereign Iraqi government.
* Establishing security.
* Continuing to rebuild Iraq's infrastructure.
* Encouraging more international support.
* Moving toward a national election in Iraq that "will bring forward new leaders empowered by the Iraqi people."

From dorksdontrock
Brent outlined five specific steps to stop killing Iraqi women and babies.

*Hand over authority to people who we won't turn around and kill/overthrow/raid/carbomb/naked pyramid stack/humiliate/intimidate in 5 years ... or days. Then bring the troops home for a game of softball, some pie, whores and crank.
*Establish security by not bombing any more mosques or forcing Iraqis to jerk off in each others mouths.
*Avoid the labor and costs of rebuilding with a simple "no carpet bombing" policy.
*Encourage more international support for more naked Janet Jackson!
*Move toward a national election in America that "will bring forward a new leader elected by the American people".

Bye, dorks!
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5/24/2004

Good afternoon, dorks. It's such a nice day in Seattle that I feel I should be running through a sprinkler or making out in a corn field.
Instead I have to have inane office conversations, which I am no good at, by the way.
There is something in-born in every beurodork and republican that allows them to chat mindlessly about things that I have never and will never care about.
Example?
Example away!
The following is word-for-word ver-fucking-batim a conversation I had today.

"Hey, how's it going, Person?"
"Hi, Brent. Well, it's going."
"Well, that's a good way for it to ... move."

I sound like a gooddamned mentally exploded caveman when I try to small talk.

"Sure can't wait for Friday to get here."
"Me either."
"Weekend never seems to get here fast enough."
"Hmmm, racecars go fast though."
"Yes they do, Brent"
"Yep, Person."

R. Baby and I went to a wedding this past weekend. Which wedding? Doesn't matter, doesn't matter, dorks.
(A rubberhead just walked into my office and threw trash into my garbage can without even talking to me. Rude? Nope, Rubberheadish. Word of my exploded caveman brain must be spreading.)
Back to the wedding. R. Extra's review of the said wedding? "Borderline white trash".
Indeed, dimple angels, indeed indeed.
I wore a suit, no tie and was worried that I would be under dressed. I wasn't thanks to "These my Sunday denims" Guy and "T'aint No One Telling Me My Kid Can't Wear His Barney T-Shirt" Woman.
More specifics?
A conversation related to me that R. Girl had with the bride's mother.

R. Girl: Hi, Mother Person, remember me?

Mother: Wait, don't tell me ... are you with the groom's side or the bride's side.

R.: The bride's side.

Mother: Hmm, then who are you representing?

R.: Um ... your daughter.

Mother: Oh, you're R. Girl!

The woman forgot if her daughter was the groom or the bride!

I once forgot what Fruit Loops tasted like. I was drunk.
I was also drunk at the wedding.
"Wheeeeeeeeeee ... people I don't know AND free beer? Recipe for disaster! A disaster lasagna in the making!"
But I was ordered to be on my best behavior.
"Don't be dumb," R. Bossy ordered.
I listened. Stupid society and your rules.
We left early because R. Throaty's throat got re-sore thanks to the tonsilectamony-mony. R. Baby's throat saves me again!
Hip-hip-hooray!

And now's the time we say goodbye
But frown no not and please don't cry.
And tonight, dork, when you watch T.V.
And see a message from the G.O.P.
Via your prez (that's good ol' George)
Remember it's O.K. to yawn and be bored.
And if you see through all the hype,
The Season Finale of "The Swan" is on Fox tonight.

Fight the powers that be, dorks!


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5/21/2004

My job is ...

5 minutes ago, singing in my head:
Bite down through the wire, ya-ya la the fire. Ya da da, da da ooooh yeah ... dum dum da, I use two lifelines ... OH SHIT! WigWolf at 9:00! Evade! Evade! She's on our 6! ((side note: You know that scene at the end of "The Neverending Story" when Atray... um, the injun meets the wolf of the nothing thing ... WigWolf is starting to look like that, which is to say Hot as Balls)) Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot ... she's going to talk to us ... we can't have her talk to the precious Brent ... left foot, right foot ... dammit left foot keep up! Too Late! Abandon foot, abandon foot! Past the front desk and to the elevator, focus, focus ...

Jersey Hair: (At the front desk, covering for ManFace since she quit) There you are, you were supposed to be up here at 2:00. (I smell foxy boxing!)

WigWolf: I was going to but then my father, you know The Dark Snake Prince, called and asked me to fetech the blood of bunnies and Straight-A students.

Jersey Hair: Well, I had to cover for you and now Blondie is here to cover for me.
(Uh-oh)

WigWolf: I smite my lateness, but ..

Jersey Hair: Too late, you were supposed to be here. Thanks again for being a real team player. (Oooooo)

(WigWolf turns into a mist of smoke and fades away into the air ducts ... and hopefully history. I run for the elevator before she gains enough strength to return.)

Yippee Jersey Hair, the revolt of the human heads has begun! Beware ye heads of rubber, your day is numbered. Surely within a fortnight's hence ...
Ah, fuck that, I ran out of fancy sounding words.
Anyways, this might be a lame job, but it has it's moments. Then again, there's never a lame moment when cat fightin' is involved.
Meow, weekend and down with the rubber heads, dorks!

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5/20/2004

From CNN.com:
BAGHDAD, Iraq (CNN) -- Iraqi Governing Council member Ahmed Chalabi said a raid on his compound Thursday was engineered by Baathists who control the Iraqi police and who are now protected by the Coalition Provisional Authority.

Arrrrggghh, dorks, Arrrggggh!
Why the hell are the Baathists raiding anything in Iraq, dorks? Who are the Baathists, you say? READ! READ! Oh, they're just this little group that used to be headed up by a guy named Sadaam Fucking Hussein.

What the hell is going on over there?
We invade Iraq and declare Sadaams loyalists to be our enemies. Why? Because they weren't behind 9/11 and they don't have WMDs. That good enough for you, you un-American prickhole? Buy a flag and shut up!
O.K., so we aren't attacking Iraq, we are attacking it's "evil" government.
Then we kill some babies and bomb a wedding. (http://apnews.myway.com/article/20040519/D82LPPNO0.html)
Don't worry, it was a gay Iraqi baby wedding. Ain't noone alive to bomb the SuperBowl.
Now we are supporting raids by SADAAM HUSSEIN'S FORMER MILITANT PARTY? These are the people who would shoot you if you couldn't guess how many fingers were behind their backs!
I know a guy who knows a guy who's sister's husband was a Baathist and you know what? Horns. He had horns.
Who the hell are we fighting over there?
We have seriously run out of kids to kill and people to force into homoerotic poses. We have actually sided WITH OUR ENEMY TO TAKE ON ... um, people who don't believe in naked Iraqi pyramids ... I mean Democracy.

But, don't worry, because I know what's going on in Iraq.
A monkey with some dice is running the war.
Crazy? Yes. True? Yes.
Think about it, dorks.
Only a monkey with some dice could come up with a plan to invade the wrong country, kill children, bomb weddings and then a year later support our enemy to fight .... our enemy?
"What's it going to be today General Bongles?"
"Ooh-Aaaaaaaaaah, Uh, Uh, Uh."
"That's it, men, General Bongles has rolled an 11. That means all-out nuclear war against Spain and bananna splits for all of us."

When you put your hand into a bunch of goo that a moment before was your best bananna split, you'll know what to do.

I had a nice day off, dorks. I tended to R. Sickly post-tonsilictamoyoney67yey. That meant pudding and oxycontin. For her we had ... hahahahahaha, just kidding, dorks.
I laid around and watched movies and ate sandwiches. I like getting paid for someone else being sick. It's a sick day without all the sickness!
"Can you please ..."
"Sorry, R. Baby is sick and by dating default I'm as useless as her."
"Would you like to ..."
"...watch T.V. and not do anything? Yes. Anything else? No!"

And what did I return to? WigWolf mayhem? No, this time it was "Crumble Cheeks" (aka "What's a folder" Lady)

_____________________________________________
From: Crumble Cheeks
Subject: Training Boxes///
Importance: High

(Brent) delivered boxes to the attention of (people) to me 1st floor Training Room.

Thank you,
Crumble Cheeks

----------
From: (Beaver)
Subject: RE: Training Boxes///

Brent - Can you please bring them to the 1st floor training room?
Thanks

-----------

From: Crumble Cheeks
Subject: RE: Training Boxes///

They're already there, Beaver!!!!

-----------

From: Beaver
To: Crumble Cheeks
Subject: RE: Training Boxes///

I've been down here all morning and I don't see them

______

From: Crumble Cheeks
To: Kinkade, Brent; Beaver
Subject: RE: Training Boxes///

did you place them in the lobby area, Brent?

----------
From: Kinkade, Brent
To: Crumble Cheeks
Subject: RE: Training Boxes///

Beaver called me.
When you said "training center" I thought you meant the literal training center.
Beaver has the boxes now.

-----------
From: Crumble Cheeks
Subject: RE: Training Boxes////

what do you mean by that?
(end of e-mails)

What do I mean by "I thought you literally meant to put the boxes in the place you said to put the boxes in instead of the place you were thinking of in your rubber head. Slower? YOU SAID "TRAINING CENTER" AND MEANT "LOBBY"." or "Beaver has the boxes now."?
Yippee, rubberheads! I can always count on you to turn a simple situation ("Hey where's that box?") into a 17-alarm fire ("The box is full of Anthrax!" "No, it's not" "It's not a box?" "No, full of anthrax." "A box full of anthrax! What do you mean by that?").

Bye, dorks. Please, please, please someone find me a decent job in Seattle!





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5/18/2004

"Wait, I need the black toner. This one says 'noir'."
"'Noir' is french for 'black'."
"I'm glad one of us knows French or we could have had a problem."

Oh, silly rubberheads,I need a break from you.
As we speak, dorks, R. Throaty is having her tonsils ripped out. Tomorrow I stay home to play doctor and XBox. Au revoir, les tetes des rubber!
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5/17/2004

Howdy! Are you smirksome, dork? Then let's go!
I had me a weekend full of nothing. An empty weekend. I bought groceries and then said to myself, "Yep, that oughta 'bout do it for this weekend."
And it did.

Wig Wolf's best friend, Man Face, quit today.
I swear I heard a howl in the distance.
Wig Wolf was sad today. I found her in the lunch room eating only 2 newborn kittens for a snack instead of her regular 35.
"Oh, WigWolf, are you sad."
"Yes, and the strength fresh kitten meat usually gives me is fleeting today. It hurts right here."
"Your heart?"
"For you mortal hu-mans it would be a heart, but for me, a child of The Fearsome Lord FireDeath, it is a steaming lump of Hell coal."
"I know what it's like to have a broken heart, WigWolf."
"Steaming lump of Hell coal."
"Right."

I'm just joshing, dorks. I haven't seen WigWolf in almost a week. I'll relate to you the way I did to Kyle me and WigWolf's last meeting.
"Maybe we should have the authority to (do what it is you do)."
"Are you saying you think my job shouldn't exist?"
"No, no, no .... I'm just."
(At this point I stop talking to her and walk into a supplies closet at the back of my office and hide in a corner until she is gone.)

Maybe my job shouldn't exist, but it's my job! That works! If I don't have my job then you dorks are un-American! Hmmm?
New paragraph.
I went over to the Lovely Couples for lunch today. Jack made fancy pizzas.
Pizza #1: Yummy dough, cripsed potatoes, some wine sauce, chicken, angel smiles and puppy souls.
Pizza #2: Wheat dough, dijon sauce, carmalized onions, chicken, spinach, Heaven rain drops.

They were good.
Over lunch the L.C. reminded me of a show I want to produce. It's called "Beauties and the Beast". The premise is that 5 or so women go and get makeovers like on "The Swan". EXCEPT one girl gets a fucked up makeover. They make her look like a monster with scales and horns and bugeyes and a hook coming out of her head. The girls have to stay bandaged up for months and are finally allowed to see themselves.
That would be the most awesome show ever in the history of the world. Could you just imagine some really fucked up looking girl with hunchback and blue skin and one of those robotic throat boxes. That would be awesome!!!!!!!! And she'd have to have two mouths and a pig nose! Hahahahahahahaha, the humor!
I had lunch with the L.C. because they are going to Atlanta tomorrow. So, me and R. Wonderful are going to house/dog sit while they are gone. Mixed peanuts jar here I come!

And hey! Way to go on getting Bushes approval rating down, dorks! I knew you had it in you! What else you got in there? Any porn?
I paid $2.35 for a gallon of gas on Friday.
Keep up the good "Bush-bashing" work, Demodorks and Intelligent Republicans!

I need to go swimming or play frisbee golf after work today. I have been sucked into my XBox and feel like a fatty due to lack of anything physical the past few days.
I take a few steps and it's nap time!
Look out supplies closet here I come!
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5/14/2004

Hello, dorks.
Are you glad it's Friday? I know someone who is!
Me? Nope ... Well, yes ... But someone else!
It's Weekend Delivery Man!

Monday: "I can't wait for the weekend."
Tuesday: "One down, 4 to go!"
Wednesday: "Almost there!"
Thursday: "Feels like Friday to me. Does that count?"
Friday: "Didn't think it'd ever get here."

Our entire relationship is based on how many days there are until the weekend. I fear that one weekend I'll run into him at the porn store or the museum and it will be awkward.
"Can't wait for the ... just one ... three ... the wife said .... my doctor ... the weather."
It's quite possible that me seeing this man on the weekend could rip the universe in half. Or maybe it isn't, who knows?

We need billions more dollars to fund Iraq? I thought we planned to be out by June 30th! Here's a startling math fact for you (which I figured out by the way, thank you internet and BrentBrain4000)...
If we funded the bare minimum of 2 billion dollars (the minimal plural ammount) and we leave Iraq on June 30th that will be an average daily (excluding today) spending of $42,553,191. That comes out to being $0.15 per U.S. Citizen per day.

For less than the price of a cup of coffee you can kill a child in Fallujah.

Amazing!

So, this weekend I will do nothing. Well, tonight I shop for breakfast sausage and dinosaur nuggets, but then I'm retiring to my XBox. I rented RedDeadRevolver. It's O.K.
I watched the final showdown scene from "The Good,The Bad and The Ugly" to get myself pumped for the game. That is without a doubt my most favorite movie sequence ever!
A close second is when those lesbians made out during "Raiders of the Lost Ark". Oh, you missed that scene? That's because you don't have Brent-Imagi-Vision!

Howdy!

I should probably go work ... nope.
Weekend, dorks!
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5/12/2004

Hello, dorks! Welcome to the revampired Dorks Do Not Rock! What they "Don't"? That's right, they don't!
As you can tell, this page is now blue, which is the color of my shirt and jeans. Coincidence? Maybe, I'll never tell. It'll go down in history as one of the great mysteries, like why was Paul Bunyan so tall and who really built Big Ben? (pssst, it was the British)
You can also leave me comments now. I was wary of doing this, because I really fear that some dorks are going to leave stupid things. No stupid things! What's stupid? Well, anything that isn't perfectly written or doesn't make me want to scream "switchblade" and/or laugh.
Feel free to leave your phone number so other dorkreaders can call you for phone sex.
Not me though, me no call. Me have girl who curls red.
R. Esponsible had to work at the place where the save kids last night. So, I had the whole place to myself. I beat Halo, had a burrito, a few beers, tried to watch T.V. .... and then I was freakin' bored out of my skull.
I paced.
I looked at DVDs (didn't watch, just looked at them. I have a problem now that when I go to watch one my DVDs the movie plays through my head very quickly and I feel like watching it will be a waste of time ... plus all the girls can be naked in my imaga-movie!)
I paced.
I tried to decide between peanuts and chips.
I ate chips.
Contemplated whether my decision was the right one.
Ate more chips.
Paced in front of the peanuts.
Settled on the chips.
Went to bed.

This is what I do when I'm alone. I pace and eat chips and think about peanuts. Ask anyone who has lived with me, although they weren't with me when I was alone (because I was alone) they know my pace habits. I walk around, complain about boredom and not knowing what to do and then go to bed.

I really missed R. Gone too, dorks. Calm down, shitdorks! You aren't getting ooh-ahh-fodder out of me. It's just that last night was the first night I had to sleep alone at our place. It was kind of not as sad as you think but sadder than dropping a candy bar into gravel.
All of the plastic trinkets and girly things that I complain about cramping my style reminded me of R. Nots. I started to like them because they were part of her and I was there and she wasn't but her stuff was. So ... I now love the plastic piggy bank! The rainbow flowerpot is A-OK! Hula man and pink pillow welcome to my world of love and understanding!

Ooooh
Aaaah
Dooooorks!

"Why do you always chop off my head after I kill your kid?"
Are you angry yet, dorks? Are you angry at the right people?
Vooooooooote!

Nervous to let you silly dorks
tell me if my website works
and talk about what I write
about girls butts and why we fight.

Later, dorkarinas!
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5/11/2004

"My name is Nick Berg, my father's name is Michael, my mother's name is Susan. I have a brother and sister, David and Sarah. I live in ... Philadelphia."

"For the mothers and wives of American soldiers, we tell you that we offered the U.S. administration to exchange this hostage with some of the detainees in Abu Ghraib and they refused .... So we tell you that the dignity of the Muslim men and women in Abu Ghraib and others is not redeemed except by blood and souls. You will not receive anything from us but coffins after coffins ... slaughtered in this way."


And, yes! Where the fuck are the mothers of America? Your sons heads are rolling! You will never receive handmade ashtrays like you did on Sunday!
There is no patriotism dying for Haliburton, Moms! There are no heroics in having your head chopped off over a dick-measuring contest, Moms! Your son could fight fires in California and still come home to you and pie. He could teach P.E. or someone to read and make more of a difference!
Revolt, Mothers, revolt! Revolt against the puppets and the killers!
And you, dorks, you see through the hype. This execution was avoidable. Anyone called to arms over it is being turned on like a robot. Turn yourself off! Take out your patriotic Duracell! Fight fires! Teach!
Dammit, dorks, dammit!!!!!!!!
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Morning and hopefully happy not-being dead to you, dorks. If you have become a zombie and are reading this then shitty for you. Shitty indeed.
I have missed you all, dorkles. I really did. I'm sorry I didn't call like I said I would, you are still the prettiest dork I've ever seen. No, I'm not just saying that.
Me and the L.C. and the R.Gee went and saw the Super Size Me movie on Sunday. I'm done with McDonalds, dorks. Done with McDonalds for life.

And this isn't like when I swore I wasn't going to use the Mach 3 because of rising prices.

Sunday: That's it! Those arogant bastards can eat my ass! I'm going back to the pre-Mach 3 days!

Monday: Oooo, I do get such a smooth ball shave. Kiss me Mach 3! (I tongue a razor) The blood! I will never kiss a razor again!

Tuesday: Damn, Mach 3 have you been working out? (Tongue the razor again) Aaaaaaaaa! My promise broken! The world falling apart like tongue does too! I will never break a promise to myself again!

Wednesday: Well, I guess it's O.K. to punch just one wheelchair-bound geriatric when no-one's looking. (Punch an old guy) Hooooeee, I missed that! What fun! Why'd I promise I'd never do that again? I'll never make promises again!

Thursday: I promise, it won't hurt. (It hurt) Dammit, I'll never suggest new things again!

Friday: Hey, who wants to throw rotten fruit at the homeless and see if they eat it? (I do it.) They ate it! I'll never doubt a homeless man again!

Saturday: Bullshit! You can't beat Slinky Boxcar in a shiv fight, Hobo Bob! It's suicide!

And that has been a waffling week in the life of Brent!
Back to life, back to reality, back to the hear and noooow-ow-ow.
So, I'm done with fast food. I must regain my healthy 16-year-old physique so I can be a strong warrior when the rapture comes ... so I can look good at the beach.

Cows: "Yippeeee!"
Potatoes: "Spuderific!"
Whatever they make the vanilla ice cream out of: "Glurp!"
McDonalds Exec: "Our profits are down 21%!"

Other news might include that I'm close to beating Halo and therefore have put my love life in jeopardy.
In Jeopardy.
"I'll take "XBox = No Box" for 500, Alex."
"Upon reaching level nine of Halo this unshaven ex-frat boy forgot that his hot girlfriend had a lovely rack AND a softball game he promised to attend."
"Who is Brent Kinkade?"
"Correct ... however, in his defense, Brent did remember to tape the final episode of Friends for R. Luckiest Girl In The World."
"And unload the diswasher!"

Did anyone else watch Friends finale done gone bye? I did. Why are they so zany? I stopped watching about 4 seasons ago when they kept sleeping with each other and everyone had a secret or was pregnant.
"Don't tell Monica that Chandler has shrapnel in his brain because he's afraid it will cause her to sleep with Joey and then have Ross' baby who is actually Phoebe in a fetus costume that Rachel stole from Ralph Lauren!"
"Hmm, I'm going to go eat lots of McDonalds instead of watching this."

R. Campy and I bought a new tent last night. It is very big! We set it up while watching "The Swan" my sort of new favorite not-liked show.
Want to her something that sounds like it'd be a good compliment but isn't?
"Baby, you're the swan."
Yeah, girls don't like to hear that.

You know what I don't like to hear? That you are a lazy stupid dork, you dork! Why hasn't President Bush's approval rating fallen to Negative 2000 %? Why? Because that isn't a real percentage? Or is it because you have cotton in your dumb dork ears? Or maybe it's because you are a stupid hippy-Democrat instead of a me-hit-rubberhead-Democrat? Maybe you should stop crying in your polluted rivers and get a little more final-scene-of-Robocop!
President Bush has maimed you and made you into that hideous man/machine who has been isolated from the love of your family and the compassion of society! There he is in that pile of toxic waste! He's melting, oozing his sludge guts! Now's the time! Run him down, MurphyDork!
Last week was prime go-for-the-jugular week and Kerry and all of us passed it up. Your comander in chief (who is more in charge of the war than Bumsfeld!) had soldiers sexually and physically assaulting people in a foreign land ... WHO WEREN'T EVEN OUR ENEMY! We declared Sadam's loyalists our enemies, not Everyday Joe Iraqi! The Red Cross says that as many as 90% of the prisoners were falsely imprisoned! That's 90% of them dressed up as women and jerking off into each others mouths because our troops had run out of inocent people to kill!
DOES AMERICA NOT READ?
Then President Bush AND Rumslick himself said it might be a good idea for him to resign! Then Cheney calls him the best Defense Secretary ever? All of a sudden everyone is backing Rum/Cheney again.
"Um, George no like Donald."
"Yes he does."
"Yes George like Donald. George president. George use phone!"
"Yes, George is a big boy."
Arrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggghhhhhh! When will the homoerotic slaying of children end so we can all get back to a good economy and nude girls surfing?
When, dorks, when?

Other than that, things are good. Not much else to say, zombie dorks. Behind you!



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5/06/2004

More about "The Matrix" and my first ever thing about Shawn.

Shawn/Skills: So, what is the Matrix? Isn't that the deal, noone knows what the Matrix is? Is it a robot or something?

Me:Nope, it's like a dream world that machines made up so they can keep us locked up and use our bodies as batteries.

Shawn: What? So, it's like they are doing this fighting in their sleep? That's retarded, it's all imaginary! I can take on 200 guys in my mind! (closes eyes) Look, there, BAM! I just beat up a thousand guys.


Words as true now as they were the day they were spoken, dorks. Disney still sucks cock.
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There's Superman, Flash, Batman and Robin
WonderWoman will always leave your heart throbbin'
But have I got a real hero for 'ya.
He's Nail Gun man ... Isidro Mejia
Nail Gun man fell from a roof
Nail Gun man ain't bullet proof
Or nail proof to be honest with you
Because sure as hell those nails got through.
Six in his head when all's said and done.
Now falling from a roof ain't all that fun.
But hitting your buddy on the way down
and having him shoot nails into your crown
Well, that's injury to injury if I ain't wrong.
Nail Gun man, you need a song!

Nail Gun Man, Nail Gun Man
Fell off a roof, that wasn't his plan
He got shot up with six nails
And then passed out before he could wail
...
Oh wherever there's a nail gun
We're sure to have some good fun
'Cause he's the Nail Gun Man!

(by the way, if you don't know what I'm talking about, read up on news, fool dorks ... or just look at my new "wicked" link)
Morning, dorks. I hope you are all reading well.
So, did you all have a nice little Cinco de Dorko? I did, I made nachos for me and R. Amigo and then went to bed at 9:00. Why? Because I like nachos and I was tired.
Other things happening? I don't know, maybe. This has been passive week for me. I'm totally phoning this one in.

"Brent, we have a bit of a concern about ..."
"Do I want a cream cheese bagel or an egg and bacon bagel?"
"Um, what? We are concerned about ..."
"Yep, decisions are hard sometimes."
"Will you ..."
"Hold on, start from the begining."
"We have a bit of a concern ..."
"No, from the begining of time! Act out Genesis for me!"

We had pot roast and a walk with the Lovely Couple the other lovely night. That was nice, thems peoples can cook. Shoooo-eee I tells ya, and they sho got tables manners! I was slopping up like a hog in Heaven, but theys all "Use the fork and use the knife/That way dinner's extra nice."
Earlier that day R. Sandy brought me Subway for lunch and we had a picnic at a park. Then we fed ducks.
That was a good day. Well, except I rented "The Matrix Revo-suckcocks" (which lived up to it's name).

12:30 a.m.
Me: (crawling into bed) Goodnight.
R. Slumber: MMMM-was your movie good.
Me: No, it was horrible.

4:30 a.m.
Me: (waking up startled) What? What's going on?
R. Slumber: You O.K.
Me: I'm just having a Matrix dream.
R. Yah: I thought you said it was a horrible movie.
Me: Yep, and it's a horrible dream too.

Want another Wig Wolf e-mail? Will that shut you up? Dammit! Here!

Brent,
Per requests made by the (Stupid) Team.

In the future when delivering paper, please move the boxes under the counter. They are complaining that the aisle is narrow as it is and is difficult to walk through when the paper boxes are left partially out in the aisle. Please push the boxes under the counter, which will allow the staff to walk down the aisle without the risk of an accident.

Thank you in advance for your cooperation and assistance in making our printer area, a safe work environment.
Thank you,
WigWolf

Wig Woooooooooooooooooooooooooolf! This has nothing to do with my job! She is so bored and fat and ranibowey that she must spread her venom before she dies, before Satan calls her back! I know that doesn't make much sense, dorks, but neither does she.
Here's a template for a WigWolf e-mail.

(Put persons name here),
Please (do something that you don't ever need to). This is because (put down some invalid excuse). Please (repeat your request again, people are too dumb to remember things after reading two sentences).

You may also (With this paragraph, feel free to really let your insanity show. Talk about other people, office supplies or your father. Just go with the first thought you have and really run with it.)

I thank you in advance for (doing what you don't need to and probably won't
do). I must now return to my master, The Dark Prince of Fear and Murder.
Thank you,
WigWolf


"Hi, I'm Charles Manson, do you want to go get Ice Cream?"
"Hi, I'm WigWolf. No, let's kill people instead."
"Yes, lots of people."
"And carve swastikas into our skull."
"Yes, WigWolf, yes!"

Later, dorks. Disney sucks cock!
|

5/04/2004

Maria Shriver has made Pat Tillman speak from the grave. The ventriloquist lives, the dead are silent heroes pushed into eternal rotting iconic roles!

Shriver said Tillman epitomized the message her uncle, John F. Kennedy, delivered in his presidential inauguration 43 years ago.
      ``My uncle once said, 'Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.' You, Pat, have lived those words,'' she said.

Dorks, dorks, dorks! J.F.Mutha Kickin'K. said those words so America's youth would HELP the people of the world through organizations like the Peace Corps! He wasn't saying join the Army and get shot while shooting people!
I don't remember the quote going "Ask not who your country can shoot for you but who you can stack into a homoerotic Iraqi-prisoner pyramid for your country."

"Ah, duh-er, we don't want no gays in the military and them homos shouldn't be getting ah-huh-der married in Oregon-io ... he-he, look, Pippytits, two Iraqi dudes all tied up and such. Let's make them jerk off into each others mouths, them stupid homos."

And it happened and people die
and homos hate and people lie
and Haliburton and Daddy too
get richer and you boo hoo hoo
and quote the dead and make them praise
any flag you'd like to raise.

Did all of you pretty little dorks remember to buy your mother a present for this weekend? I did, I did!
I made her a card that goes as such in crayon:
Outside:(A picture of my mom dressed in a superman costume with a giant "M" instead of an "S" with "<----- You are prettier than this" pointing to it.)
You are a Super Mom.

Inside: (SuperMom flying towards a T-Rex that has razor fingers and shooting fire out of its mouth!)
Now kill that T-Rex and save THE WORLD! Happy Mother's Day! Love,Brent
Other things are busy. I have officially been offered my job as a permanent position.
"You're officially unofficial," said R. Emembers.
She reads, she remembers! Meat and New Balances sing the praise of a fan and girlfriend rolled into one!
I need to go pee in a cup now, dorks.
And then I might go to my drug screening.

Later, dorks.
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