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Posted

You know, doing live radio can be complicated but I’m glad Marshal Allen and Henry Grimes were able to get there without too much fuss or mad science, you know --MERCY GOD ALMIGHTY WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!!!???

FLASH-BANG-ZAP!! Sweet Jesus, a squirrel just ate the rubber encased wires feeding the transformer box on the telephone pole across the street causing the loudest crack bang I’ve ever heard. Oh man, my heart is racing. Poor little bastard. I just saw him fall to his death, rigid in the air, bouncing once on the frozen snow.

Huh? Now what the fuck is that? My neighbor just ran outside his front door naked. His door is wide open. Now he’s flopping in the snow. Call 911! I’m calling 9-11!! I gota go! Should I? I really don’t know him very well, he’s an army guy. What should I do?? Holy shit, what’s that on his Johnson? For the love of Mike, is that what I think it is? My God I haven’t seen a “Vacu-Jack” since the back pages of Mad Magazine. I know this machine. Lemme help.....

(later)...

Wow. The paramedics did a great job. There goes the ambulance down the street. I think he’s going to be o.k. Seems Ranger Rick was “experimenting” with his Vacu-Jack while under the influence of Levitra -- had been working on one of those four hour erections -- and when the squirrel ate through that circuit it sent a jolt through the manipulator turning it up to “express,” where it locked on. Those things are as cheap as they look: seems there’s no fuse, so a huge surge zapped his member, too, rendering the drooling patriot helpless. The paramedics knew just what do to, they’d seen this before. They had a syringe as big as that spire on the Empire State Building. As one of the Docs pulled the plunger back, drawing out an excess of blood to flood the Nile, he caught my eye and said, “How’ze that for draining the weasel?”

Posted

I loath Levitra commercials. Something had to be done.

Too much fear, no more loathing.

The major media talking heads are a bunch of overpaid cowards who shun their responsability like lazy Girl Scouts with rich fat uncles who can't stop eating cookies. There's no community about it. Hard Ball my ass. Seen more hard balls in the old Times Square.

(How's that? I'd rather not be shot our of a cannon, though).

Posted

r.i.p. Dr. Thompson

This squirrel story didn't make me think that,

but then I read "Conquistador" -- whoa!

I was certainly HOPING it was a Hunter S. Thompson tribute!!!

(And thinking, "if that's fiction, let's have more! If it's memoir, take it easy, LV!")

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