Tuesday, April 27, 2010

... the Adventure Continues (twenty-nine percent more profanity, and climbing!)

Rabid Fanboy is in limbo because of some freakin' lawyerese bullshit. Hopefully, some of you picked up on some of the clues in some of my latest posts on that blog. Regarding the upcoming TV show, Fearless Leader didn't read the fine print in the contract, and before you hootchiemawhatsits out there in internetland start crowing, 99.9% of you freaks don't even bother to read any of the EULAs or TOSes on any of the software, crapware, malware and Microsoft products you use, so fuck you if you gotta' wiseass comment to make, you first stone throwers, so, anyway,  the cable network's lawyers said, oh, by the way, we own your blog and its characters, and Fearless Leader said, nah uh, and scumbags on ice said, uh huh, and we want you to refrain from blogging, and Fearless Leader says, why for, and the coterie of crap stains for brains says, it'll confuse viewers, horseshit, says FL, tough cookies, says the bevy of rotting carcass breaths and then they say, and by the way, you can't blog in Rabid Fanboy, either, I don't, says FL, right, says the babyshit for bad breaths, no really I don't, says FL, it's these two guys, Brinke has been working in the field for decades, Google his ass, will ya' and Lastangelman, well, he's just this guy, you know, and the turd up their nostrils says, yeah, we think he's you, fuck off, says FL, he's occasionally so off the fucking wall I'd gladly ram my tongue down his throat but he's not me, he's not consistent, see, whereas I'm fucking brilliant all the fucking time, all the same, says the gonorrhea drippers with smallpox scars scabs for eyes, it's gotta' stop - now - or no show - so, Fearless Leader stops Brinke and but neglects to inform me for a week, 'cos, well, it's a sentimental thing, you know, it was hard for him to let go, and occasionally, I can be so amazingly fuckingly rib-tickiling genius, it scares the bejeezus out of me, too, so, why not let me carry-on, 'til he got the tap on the shoulder from the scum buckets that never knew a mother's love so had to settle for their grizzled pop-pops boning them up their pre-teen asses and now their deformed brained mongrel instincts tell them to hate all humanity - aaaand that was just about that.

Well, I own Lastangelman, so those ass-cannibals that pulled that fast one can go toss each other's salads for all I care. I intend to pick up where we left off, more or less, except no mentioning of you know who's blog, except in the biblical sense, so the grim baloney munchers don't think I'm trying to confuse some cable audience, except I'm kinda' confused, too, so, as my good friend Laraine Newman would say, fuckit. And I have no problem promoting good literature, like these fine pieces of roman a clef and whatnot by literary SCUD and media gadfly in the K-Y jelly Daniel Lyons, nor fine blogs by this iPad obsessed hellion.

And so, meine Kinder, the adventure continues. And, as Heather Locklear once opined, strap yourselves in, hang on to your hats, we may end up miles from here ... and occasionally, we may run into a tree or telephone pole!

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