Awesomesquad! Assemble! 2! (Revisited!)- Part 2!!

Hey everyone, this is a continuation of last week’s post, so if you didn’t read that one, catch up here. Otherwise, let’s continue.

Kim Kardassian


“Did you kill him?”

“Of course I didn’t kill him.”

“Because it kind of looks like you killed him.”

“I didn’t kill him”

“He does kinda look like he’s dead.”

“He’s not dead!”

“Did you check his pulse?”


“Then I guess you don’t know if he’s dead or not, now do you?”

“He’s not dead!”

“Who’s dead?” I mumbled.

“Oh good, he’s waking up,” I heard Lady Smash say.

“You’re dead,” Derren’s voice answered.

“Hey guys!” Jessie’s voice exclaimed, “Who killed Minigan?”

“Shut up, Jessie,” I snapped.

“See, he’s totally not dead,” Lady Smash confirmed.

I opened my eyes and found Jessie, Lady Smash, Phlegm, Criss, and Derren looking down on me. We were in my room. My head pulsed with pain. I tried to rub it, but I couldn’t move my hands. I looked to them and found that I had been bound to my bed with hot pink, fuzzy handcuffs.

“In case you tried to do anything stupid again,” Lady Smash explained as I pulled on the handcuffs.

“OK, well you can let me go now,” I replied.

“No can do,” Phlegm told me, “The last time we tried that, you tried to molest the TV.”

Damien, GMZ, Everett, and Nut’n Fancy walked into my room, each one holding their head and looking nauseous.

“And why didn’t you tie them to their beds?!” I cried.

“Because they weren’t trying to molest the TV,” Derren quipped.

“What happened, anyway?” Everett asked, “All I remember is watching TV, being interrupted and then thrown into the air.”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Lady Smash snapped, “You all were so drawn into the cultural black hole that is ‘Keeping Up With The Kardashians’ that you didn’t even hear Phlegm and I come in. To get your attention, I turned off the TV. You all went bezerk, except for Derren and Criss, both of whom are not lousy pervs with poor taste.”

“Wow,” Jessie blurted.

“Yeah,” Phlegm replied, “I always figured Criss to be the most unapologetically perverted one in the group.”


“Oh, please,” Lady Smash scoffed at Criss, “You always go for the hottest chick to help you preform your magic tricks.”

I began, “That’s weird-”

“I know!” Lady Smash interjected, “Who uses magic to pick up women?”

Criss Angel Trick

Criss, seen here seducing the women in the crowd with his magic.

“No, I meant it’s weird that the only reason we started watching in the first place is because GMZ had freaked out on me for interrupting him.“

“OK, so we pinpointed our patient zero,” Phlegm noted, “But we still don’t know why the show turned you all into drooling morons.”

Still strapped to the bed, I rested my head back on the pillow and recalled what happened before I woke up chained to my bed with kink handcuffs. The Ass. Its image was standing out clearly in my head, and it’s voice (which sounded a lot like Billy D. Williams) echoed in my mind clear enough that it could have been talking into my ear. I heard the echo repeat in its sexy, smooth voice “…You must stop them, even if it means killing them…” I opened my eyes again and gasped.

“Kim Kardashian’s ass! That’s what drew me in!” I exclaimed as I struggled against the restraints, “Her ass must have the ability to hypnotize people!”

“No,” Lady Smash said in a matter-o-factly tone, “You’re just a dirty pervert.”

With a condescending laugh, Damien added, “She’s right, Minigan, Kim Kardashian’s ass isn’t hypnotic. Obviously, that’s ridiculous. There has to be a more rational explanation. Maybe we ate something that had a weird effect on us.”

“Like what?” Derren asked, “Only GMZ ate the brownies, and Lady Smash was the one to make those.”

Everett added, “Yeah, unless Lady Smash put LSD or hallucinogenic mushrooms into all of our food, I doubt what we ate was the cause.”

“All I’m saying is that we should not start a crusade against the Kardashians just because we were acting a little weird,” Damien replied.

“A little weird?!” Phlegm cried. “All of you went bezerk.”

Lady Smash nodded, “Damien, dude, I love it that we are usually on the same side of arguments, but I think you should probably sit this one out because you’re not helping our side at all.”

“Ok,” Damien admitted, “Maybe we did get out of hand, but I still don’t think we were hypnotized my Kim Kardashian’s ass.”

“Where the hell were you when this happened, Damien?” I asked, “Did you not hear Billy D. William’s voice come out of her ass?”

Damien didn’t answer, but Lady Smash looked to Phlegm and then down to me. “OK, You guys are just fucking with us now, right?”

“Can someone please un cuff me from my bed?” I requested, ignoring Lady Smash’s question. I then asked, “And why did you guys use fuzzy handcuffs?”

“They were the only ones we had here,” Phlegm answered as she freed my ankles from their restraints.

“And who had sex handcuffs here?” Criss queried.

Phlegm and Lady Smash looked to a red faced Everett who threw up his hands and cried, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Once Phlegm had freed my last wrist, I sat up and replied, “I think we need to talk about it.”

“Minigan,” Derren interrupted, “What do you want to do about Kim Kardashian?”

“Wait,” Lady Smash interjected, “You and Criss weren’t acting ‘hypnotized.’ Why do you believe this crap?”

“It didn’t happen to Criss and myself is because we both know how to hypnotize others, which makes it impossible to be hypnotized.”

“So you believe that the Kardashians are harboring a woman with magical ass powers?”

“More like Kardassians,” GMZ quipped.

“Good one, GMZ,” I replied, “Let’s all call her that when we go fight her.”

Lady Smash pinched the bridge of her nose and requested, “Can’t we at least vote on it?”

“Sure,” I replied, “Whoever thinks that Kim Kardassian really does have a hypnotic ass raise your hand.”

Everett, GMZ, Criss, Derren, Nut’n Fancy, and myself raised our hands.

“And whoever thinks that literally any explanation other than ‘Kim K’s ass is magic’ is a better one, raise your hand.”

Phlegm, Jessie, and Damien raised their hands with Lady Smash. She counted the raised hands and scowled at me.

I smiled back at her and announced to my group, “Well, it looks like we’re fighting Kim Kardassian. Everyone get ready.” I instructed GMZ to find the address of the Kardashian house, and to send the rest of the Kardashian Klan across town to what they think is surprise party for Kim.

“What should the reason be?” GMZ asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied impatiently, “To celebrate Kim’s acting debut, or maybe she won some award, or maybe even it’s a party to celebrate Kim simply to remind the rest of the family who the important one is. Any stupid explanation will do. These people are reality TV stars; they’re accustomed to being in terrible story lines.”

GMZ nodded and left, but the rest of my team waited behind.

“Can’t we please talk about this a little more? You’re doing the same bloody thing you did with Trump,” Damien pointed out.

“We put it to a vote, Damien,” I reminded him, “See, that’s how a democracy works: People vote, and the winners of that vote decide what’s going to happen. I know that this concept must be difficult for you to grasp, since you live under the rule of the Queen and all.”

“We’ve had a democratically elected Parliament for the past 208 years, asswipe,” Damien snapped.

“It would be much easier if we had literally any more information,” Lady Smash explained, “Like, how is Kim Kardashian’s ass hypnotizing people, or if it has other powers, like the ability to create clouds and thunder, or possibly if it could shoot deadly missiles.”

kim kardashian ass 1- censored

It’s probably best if we didn’t take any chances.

“Hey that’s a good idea,” I replied, “Theoretically, it could have some more mind manipulating- Wait, are you being serious, or did you just make a make a poop and fart joke.”

“I did. But that first part was totally serious.”

“It couldn’t hurt going into this fight a little better informed,” Everett added.

The others murmured in agreement.

“Fine,” I yielded, “We’ll prepare for the next four days. We’ll gather up intel on Kim, her family, and her ass, but we’ll have to do this the right way. Damien, Go up and tell GMZ to schedule the party for four days from tonight. Then plan out some cardio workouts for tonight to make sure we’re all in good enough shape to fight.”

Rather grumpily, he replied with a simple, “Fine,” and exited my room.

I turned to my two female teammates and said, “Lady Smash and Phlegm, since the ass has no effect on you, go up to the Watch Tower and find out what ever you can about it.” I turned to Derren and Criss and continued, “I’ll need you two to watch as much of ‘Keeping Up With The Kardashians’ as you can. We won’t be able to get a blueprint of their house without a permit or breaking into where ever those are kept, but we can learn enough about the layout from the show. Also look for any weaknesses she might have. Everett and Nut’n Fancy, do some research on friends and the rest of the family. Go back through the family tree. Look for anything that might be relevant. Also look into Bruce Jenner’s family. I don’t trust that face.”

“What do you want me to do, Boss?” Jessie asked in an upbeat tone. Despite having voted against the the idea that Kim Kardashian’s ass is hypnotic, he still seemed excited to go on any adventure at all.

“Do a walk through maintenance inspection on the Awesomecopter!,” I answered, “And try to make it as quiet as possible. We’ll be in a residential neighborhood, so we’ll need to keep it quiet.”

“You know that the Awesomecopter! is a helicopter, right?” He asked me, “I can’t just make it silent.”

“Fine,” I replied, “Do something to make the Awesomebus! quieter and more inconspicuous.”

He nodded and left, as did the rest of the team to carry out their various tasks.  I stood up from my bed, paced across my room, and began brainstorming how we were going to break into the Kardashian residence.

Awesomesquad! Assemble! 2! (Revisited!)

Hi Everyone! I know it has been almost a year since I posted anything, and even longer since I posted anything book related, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. I started a new magazine with my boyfriend (check it out here), so I’ve been primarily busy writing the articles for that, and I have been working on my book, just nothing that you’ll see here. I did, however, finish the battle between Kim Kardassian and our gang of lovable idiots.

For those who have never read an Awesomesquad! post of mine before, welcome! This should be exciting for you. You’ll probably want some background info, whether you’re new or just need a refresher, so check this page out. It will give you the information you need about the team.

Other than that, enjoy!

Kim Kardassian


It was about a month after I introduced Phlegm to the team before we had any celebrity fighting mission. I actually remember the date- September fifth. The date itself isn’t all that important; I’m just impressed that I remembered it.

Anyway, the guy installing our Satellite TV service had just left, and Derren, GMZ, Criss, and myself were changing back out of our cult garb. Damein, Everett, and Nut’n Fancy were out in the woods surrounding the Awesomebase!, building our obstacle course. Jessie was in the Awesomehangar! working on the Awesomecopter!, and Phlegm and Lady Smash were out buying supplies. Feeling that yet another day would be ending early for me, I headed up to the kitchen to gather up some brownies Lady Smash had baked, and then catch up on some TV. However, when I got to the Great Room, I found that the TV and the brownies had already been claimed by GMZ.

As I approached, I noticed something off. He stared at the TV, his expression blank, and he was barely holding onto the half-eaten brownie in his hand. I watched him for a few seconds, expecting him to snap out of it. He did not.

“Hey, GMZ,” I called to him.

I got no response. I repeated myself, but still didn’t even get a murmur from him.


When he didn’t answer to that, I marched towards him, grumbling, and nudged the side of his head. He toppled over, but he snapped out of it.

He jumped back to his feet, his face scrunched up and red with anger, and screamed, “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT ALL I WAS DOING WAS WATCHING TV WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!?!”

“Whoa,” I cried as I dodged his swinging fist, “Calm down. I was just trying to get your attention.”

“CALM DOWN?! NO I WON’T CALM DOWN!!” He took another couple swings at me, which I batted off. He then yelled in my face, “YOU ATTACK ME AND THEN SAY I NEED TO CALM DOWN.”

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Derren asked as he and Criss rushed into the room. Raul came running into the room from the lab, holding a mop in one hand and a scalpel in the other.

GMZ cried, “I was just watching TV when this psychopath attacked me!”

“I nudged you!” I retorted, “And I only did that because you weren’t answering me!”

“Both of you, calm down,” Derren commanded. He then looked to GMZ and said, “Tell me what happened.”

Damien, Nut’n Fancy, and Everett entered the Great room just as GMZ started his story. GMZ told Derren how he was sitting quietly watching TV and eating a brownie, when I, in a jealous rage, stormed into the Great Room and began beating him over the head. Derren nodded and asked me to tell my side of the story. I explained to him what really happened, and while I did, Derren didn’t take his eyes of me.

Once I was finished telling my side of the story, Derren stood quietly for a couple of long seconds, and announced, “I think they’re both telling the truth.”

“What?!” GMZ roared.

Derren clarified, “I don’t think Minigan actually attacked you, GMZ. None of his body language is coming off as if he’s lying. But I think that you believe that he attacked you, because other than you being livid right now, your body language is saying the same thing.”

“No!” GMZ cried, “He did attack me. He’s just jealous of my relationship with her!”

“With whom?” Derren asked.

“With her!” GMZ shouted as he pointed at the TV screen. The six other men rushed around the couch to get a good look at whom GMZ was pointing.

I looked down to see a towering, vaguely humanoid creature stomping around in the yard. Judging by its surroundings, I figured the beast had to be at least ten feet tall. I could only assume it was a woman by its hair and clothing.

“That mountain giant?” I asked.

“No, not Khloé,” GMZ snapped at me, “Her.”

khloe Kardashian




What came onto screen next made me gasp. An ass- but not just any ass- a perfect ass. It was big but toned, round but perky. It was like someone had stuck two balloons under a skimpy red dress. I could not look away. Even the rest of the body attached to the beautiful ass was amazing, but my focus kept getting pulled back to that butt. It was like it was speaking directly to me. And then, it did.

“Minigan, baby,” The ass cooed at me, its rich, smooth chocolaty voice making love to my eardrums, “Just sit down and look at me. I’ll take care of everything you need.”

I believed this ass. I believed it would take care of me. In only that brief amount of time since I had met it, I had never felt anything as strong as the love I felt for it. Even after those few short moments together, it had become more than just my world, it became the whole reason I exist. The answers to all of life’s greatest mysteries were nestled between those firm, cushiony butt cheeks, and I was sure it wanted to confide in me, so I obeyed it.

“I will do anything to make you happy” I heard my self say. I think I heard other people say it too, but they didn’t matter. They were so far away, and their voices were so small, that I knew that they weren’t talking to the stunning ass I had said it too. In fact, not a single thing those voices mattered. The only thing that was important to me anymore was keeping that ass happy.

The Ass replied in it’s deep, seductive voice, “Good. Now, what I want you to do is to send me all the money you have. I need it to make myself look good for you. You’re so handsome and muscular. I want to be the best that I can be for you.”

“What’s going on here?” I heard a faint woman’s voice say. I didn’t answer.

“Hey, guys, what’s wrong?” Another woman, this one just as uninteresting as the first, asked.

“Baby,” The Ass warned, “Two jealous she-devils are trying to keep us apart. They are here now. You must stop them, even if it means killing them. Do it, for uh-“

The world went black, and suddenly, I was thrown into a cruel, hideous world where the Ass was no longer present. In front of me were the two she-devils I was warned about: Lady Smash and Phlegm. The Betrayers! I thought, I bring them onto my team, and they take the love of my life away from me?!

I and several of the men around me screamed at them both. I was in such a mindless rage, that I cannot remember what I, or the rest of them, said, but I do remember screaming to the point where drool was running out of the side of my mouth. Looks of fear were carved onto Lady Smash and Phlegm’s faces, which only made us angrier. I lunged at Lady Smash, who dodged me, threw me to the ground, and drove her boney knee into my spine.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” She yelled, the anger in her voice barely covering up the fear.

“You took The Ass away from me!” I managed to sputter out with what little air my lungs were getting.

“What?!” She, Phlegm, Criss and Derren cried.

I was starting to get a better sense of my surroundings. At the edge of my peripheral vision, I could see forms floating somewhere above Lady Smash’s head. They were the bodies of Damien and Nut’n Fancy.

“What the hell is Minigan Talking about Derren?” Phlegm asked.

“I don’t know. We were just watching ‘Keeping Up With The Kardashians’ when they all went into some bizarre trance.”

Lady Smash grunted and replied, “Why were you watching that garbage anyway?”

“GMZ said that he was in love with someone on there, and he was trying to show us who,” Criss answered.

“Lady Smash,” I gasped, as I squirmed under her knee, “Could you ease up a little bit? I’m sorry I tried to attack you. I’m better now.”

She warned me, “If you try to attack any of us, I’m going to tase the figurative and literal shit out of you.”

“I promise I won’t,” I said with sincerity.

She released her knee from my spine, and immediately I scurried on my hands and knees to the TV and turned it back on. After an entire lifetime crammed into a single second, The Ass returned to me.

“Minigan, baby,” it cooed seductively, “I missed you.”


The voice wafted out of The Ass and into my ears, assuring me that it would take care of me, and I was lost to it again.

Kim Kardashian 1-censored

I tried to reach for it, just to touch it and let it know that I was real and there for it, but it vanished and I felt a wave of burning pain crash through my muscles. I tried to scream, but my jaw, vocal chords, lungs, and brain stopped working. My arms and legs twitched as the Great room came back into view. Lady Smash, Phlegm, Derren, and Criss were standing over me, and a pair of wires lead from somewhere in my chest to Lady Smash’s Taser. Then, everything went black.

The American Douchebag’s Guide to America- Kansas City


Kansas City, located on the Missouri/ Kansas border and at the confluence of the Kansas and Missouri rivers,  was founded in the 1830 as a Missouri River port. It was originally called Kansas, but by 1854, when the Kansas Territory was formed, it became confusing to travelers as well as wayward sons looking to carry on. Because of this, the “City” part of Kansas City was added. Clearly, people back then were terrible at naming things. During the 1850s, Kansas City and its neighboring town, Independence became jumping off points for Westward expansion, with Independence marking the beginning of the Oregon trail.

Mecc: Creators of the game Oregon Trail, and the sound you make when you accidentally find yourself in Independence, MO.

Mecc: Creators of the game Oregon Trail, and the sound you make when you accidentally find yourself in Independence, MO.

During the Civil War, Kansas City was an important foothold in the West. See, thanks to the Missouri Compromise, Missouri was considered part of the South and allowed to have slaves, while Kansas was above the Mason-Dixon line, and therefore a Free State. Both of the Battles of Independence were won by the Confederates, but those wins proved fruitless when the Union won the Battle of Westport and booted the Confederates out.

As America expanded, and Kansas City became less and less of a frontier City, a new danger emerged: The mafia. Really.  The Civella Crime Family got its start when two brothers, Joseph “Joe Church” DiGiovanni and Peter “Sugarhouse Pete” DiGiovanni moved to KC from Sicily. With their nicknames (which could have given them lucrative porn careers if that option would have been available to them back then), they made their money racketeering and other criminal operations as soon as they got there.  Say what you want about Sicilians, but they do NOT fuck around when it comes to setting up criminal organizations.

With Prohibition brought the crime family more money and power, as they controlled the bootlegging of booze. Their criminal activity got so bad that it made the wealthy living in the neighborhood, 18th and Vine, flee to the suburbs and threw the once rich neighborhood into destitution. But the silver lining of this is that by the 1930s and 40s, the neighborhood became the birthplace of Kansas City Jazz, and also the home of many Jazz musicians including Charlie Parker. Here is one of his songs, for those of you who aren’t regular Jazz listeners (probably anyone who reads this blog):

Today, Kansas City is home to the Hallmark Factory and Museum, the Negro League Baseball Museum, and the least offensive Native American themed Sports team. It also is a shipment hub for UPS, FedEX, and USPS, due to it being the most Centralized major metropolitan area in the U.S.

Reason for Visiting

This is a new section, which I never really needed before, as my usual motivation for traveling to, say, Scotland is “Because it’s fucking Scotland.” However, after my last Guide to America found me in Iowa, I think it’s necessary to explain why I went to Kansas City, lest you begin to think I have a travel boner for the Midwest.

Which is crazy, because the Midwest has a really flat ass (Kansas is its ass).

Which is crazy, because the Midwest has a really flat ass (Kansas is its ass).

My reason for heading to the KC was because this crazy douchebag:

Lady Kevin

Managed to get the Unpopular Opinion Stand Up Comedy Show to come to his town. For those of you who don’t know, Unpopular Opinion is the stand-up show of It is headlined by their writer and editor Adam Todd Brown. Now, I’ve been a fan of Adam Todd Brown since he started writing regularly for Cracked, and I’ve been a fan of Cracked for longer than I’ve had this blog, so when Kevin (the crazy douchebag in the picture above) told me that he and his fellow Unpopular Opinion comics, Jeff May and Genevieve Mueller might do a show in Kansas City, I knew I had to be there.

Unpopular Opinion Comedy Show

Obviously, they did go to Kansas City and do a stand-up show, and they killed it. Great job, guys and lady. And on a related note, Unpopular Opinion has a podcast you can listen to. Check that shit out here.

Initial Thoughts

What the hell is with all the highways here? This has to be the most unnecessarily complex highway system in the Midwest. Calm the hell down with all the roads, Kansas City. You’re not LA, you don’t need all of this. You have two hills and two rivers with a shit-ton of space around them, you can work around those without making a concrete maze of on and off ramps. But, hey, at least the roads themselves are in good shape.


The hotel my boyfriend, Dave, and I stayed at was, to put it politely, devastatingly retro. The Ramada Overland Park Hotel was built around the late 70’s-early 80’s, which Dave picked up on as soon as he saw the indoor gardens. The first thing that hit us as we stepped into the lobby was the smell of chlorine. My immediate thought was that the pool must be in a room near the lobby. I didn’t realize how right I would be. Standing at the front desk and looking to your right, you will see that the lobby is open to an outdoor patio, at least that’s what I thought. See, It was night about 11:00 PM when we got there, so the giant indoor common area right off the lobby was dark and looked like a patio. It wasn’t until I was in the common room and saw the ceiling that I realized I was still inside.

DSC00806-sepia DSC00807-sepia DSC00808-sepia DSC00874-sepia DSC00875-sepia

Note the lack of other people in these pictures

Note the lack of other people in these pictures

So, yeah, the facilities were nice in a “Post-apocalyptic Scenario” kind of way. And I even wanted to go swimming. That is, until Kevin Amend and Jeff May pointed out the film that grew on the surface of the water at the deep end.


That dried that desire up pretty quick.

As for the room, it wasn’t anything special: Bed, TV, mini-fridge, couch, crap closet (That’s my new name for ‘bathroom,’ although it does work equally well for butthole,) You know, the standard stuff.

And every morning, in an area that I think used to be a restaurant was the continental breakfast. It had the normal breakfast foods. The eggs were bad, even by hotel continental breakfast standards, but I managed to eat them by putting them on my waffle and slathering them with maple syrup. This meant that I got to eat a lot of waffles every breakfast, which is an ongoing life goal of mine, so I cannot complain about the eggs that much. Keep it up Ramada Overland Park Hotel!


First, let’s talk about the most well-known attraction in the Kansas City area- Schlitterbaun.

That is the world's tallest water slide, Verruckt. It means 'insane' in German because what else would it mean?

That is the world’s tallest water slide, Verruckt. It means ‘insane’ in German because what else would it mean?

I didn’t visit it. It was too cold and rainy. Actually, I don’t even know if it was open when I was there. However, The second most well known attraction in Kansas City is the WWI Memorial and Museum.


Which we only spent a total of a half an hour at. See, ran a little late that day, so by the time we made it to the memorial, the museum was getting close to closing, and the people who worked there told us that we wouldn’t have enough time to get a good look at everything. So we went up to the Memorial instead. And since it was windy and cold, we only stayed long enough to get some pictures before running back to the car.

Now, it would be unfair of me to judge these two sites, after not being able to experience them first hand. But fuck it- that’s what I’m about to do. Shlitterbaun (now dubbed SHITTERbaun) was about as much fun as diving into a dumbsterfire, and twice as filthy.* The workers threw rocks at the riders as they made their way from waterslide to waterslide, and I’m pretty sure there was a corpse floating in their Kristal River.*

As for the WWI Museum, at the risk of sounding unpatriotic, the museum is the worst thing to happen to America since the White man came stomping through these parts. Most of the exhibits were either erotic clown paintings or the words “Fuck Brown People” scrawed on posterboards with sharpies, and every tour guide yelled at the guests in German.* I cannot in good conscience recommend either one.

*None of these statements are true. Please don’t sue, Schitterbaun and WWI museum people.

But the Memorial is great, and you get an Amazing view of the city from it. Definitely check that out, especially if you like Giant stone dicks sticking straight up in the air. And according to Kevin, it is a life size replica of his member, so let that mental image sink in.

After visiting the memorial, we visited Legends, which isn’t some magical realm where you ride horses and fight monsters, but a fancy Outlet Mall. Yeah, I was disappointed too.

Despite my total disappointment in not being able to slaughter an ogre and then use its blood for lube so that I could jizz on its corpse (as is the custom in magical realms), Legends is actually a pretty cool outlet mall. Among other things you’d expect to find at an outlet mall, they had a store/ restaurant called the T-Rex Café. If you’re a kid (Or a sexy man-child such as myself), it is the greatest thing ever. All over the place in the restaurant, they have giant, animatronic dinosaurs and sea monsters, they have an excavation site for the kids to dig around in, and a build-a-dinosaur work shop. Shit. Where the hell was this when I was a kid. All I had was crappy Rainforest Café, and that was only in Downtown Disney.

(Note, due to Legends being located in Kansas City, Kansas, all the pictures came out sepia toned, just like pictures do all across Kansas. These pictures of the T-Rex Café are in color because I photoshopped the color back into them. You’re welcome.)

DSC00862 DSC00864 DSC00865 DSC00866 DSC00867

The most interesting thing I saw in KC, however, was all the Mormon History stuff.

To anyone who isn’t a Mormon, you may be wondering what they have to do with Kansas City. Well, I spent an entire day learning about it, so I’m going to force that knowledge unto you!

The Prophet of the Church of Latter Day Saints,  Joseph Smith, Traveled west to find a place where his kind could be accepted, and eventually ended up at the edge of the country at that time, Independence Missouri. It was there that God told him that that place was to be where Jesus would return for is second coming, Really.

Independence, MO: Come for Truman’s house, stay for the Second Coming of Christ!

Independence, MO: Come for Truman’s house, stay for the Second Coming of Christ!

Knowing that this town would be the Mormon Zion, Smith had his followers make a pilgrimage there over the course of several years in order to not overwhelm the current residents. Just kidding, of course they didn’t do it that way. The Mormons flooded in, about 1,000 of them, into the small town of Independence, buying land and building houses before winter came, and probably making all the (kind of) native Missourians uncomfortable with their upbeat and impossibly positive attitudes.

After a series of escalating conflicts with the locals, up to a battle that cost the Mormons most of their men, Joseph Smith and several Church Leaders were put in jail, and the Mormons were forced out of Missouri all together via an extermination order put out by the fucking Governor of Missouri. (On a sexy side note, these events are what lead to the Mormons to adopt polygamy. After the battle, only 10% of the Mormon population was male, and since the women needed taking care of, the Church allowed men to have multiple wives.)

The More You Know Symbol

So, yes, The Mormons left, and were eventually allowed to return during the last Century. And now, the different offshoots of the Mormon faith have all built their Churches there to Welcome Christ back. The one tiny snag, however, is that the actual site where Jesus is supposed to return is owned by more than one group, and therefore, no one can build the church on it. They’ve remedied this by putting up a sign noting the significance of the vacant lot and having good faith that it will all work itself out, as I think we all know disputes over land ownership are wont to do.


Now, since I visited these Mormon sites with my boyfriend, we felt the need to disguise ourselves as to not give away that we are unrepentant sinners. This is how we did that:

Disguise 1 Disguise 2

They'll never suspect a thing!

They’ll never suspect a thing!

We were genuinely surprised at how well the exhibits in both the visitor’s center and the Liberty Jail Historic Site were executed. The visitor’s center had a replica cabin inside the basement that you enter and walk around in. As an added touch, they put TV screens on the outsides of the windows that played a separate video that went along with the audio being played in the cabin.

DSC00820 DSC00821

The window is actually a TV! Apparently, the Mormons are more American than the rest of us.

The window is actually a TV! Apparently, the Mormons are more American than the rest of us.


The Visitor’s Center also has an impressive and muscle bound Jesus statue, historical pictures of The Mormon’s time in Independence, a brief explanation of what the Book of Mormon (Not the Broadway Musical) is about, and all the languages it has been translated into. Plus, if you are as lucky as we were, you’ll get the sisters to all come out and sing a hymn for you. Let me repeat that: They sing for you. And they are good at singing! How fucking is that?! No museum has people on hand that can sing songs for your entertainment. The Smithsonian? No. The Guggenheim? Nope. The U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum? Are you kidding me? Those mopey bastards over there won’t sing for you! Only at the Mormon Visitor’s center in Independence will that happen. Kudos for standing out, Mormons.

Body of Christ!

Body of Christ!

The Liberty Jail Historic Site was even more impressive, because they partially rebuilt the jail based on notes a Church member took when the site was rediscovered and then built a giant room with surround sound around it, so that you walk around the jail, but still feel like you’re in the middle of the narration and sound effects. And at the end, if you wish, you can receive a free copy of The Book of Mormon (again, not the Broadway Musical). True, That is easily the weirdest souvenir I’ve ever gotten, but all this Mormon talk got me curious about what they believe, so I’m probably going to read it.



Barbeque.  That’s all I really need to say. Kansas City has amazing Barbeque. I ate at two different BBQ restaurants while I was there: Joe’s KC BBQ, and Grinders (Heads up, they do not sell hoagies) Both were amazing. Joe’s KC is the more famous of the two, The President having ordered their $2,000 of their food and had it delivered to the White House on Air Force 1. I had their signature sandwich, which was amazing. My only problem with their food is that I’m not a fan of seasoning on my fries. But I ate them anyway, because I’m an American, and that’s what we do.

Look into Kevin's cold, dead eyes and know that he is the greatest sandwich hunter on Earth.

Look into Kevin’s cold, dead eyes and know that he is the greatest sandwich hunter on Earth.

Personally, I liked Grinders better, partially because I liked their atmosphere, but mostly because they load their sandwiches up with meat. Dave argued that Joe’s KC was better because the meat was more tender, but I didn’t notice because I practically swallowed both sandwiches whole.

Grinders Stonewall- Sepia


I actually didn’t drink at all during this trip. So let’s just assume that Kansas City has no locally brewed alcohol. They have plenty of bars though. Check those out. Or not.  I’m not your lush of a mother.


The first group I would like to talk about are the Mormons.

Close Enough.

Close Enough.

As I mentioned before, Independence is crawling with members of the Church of Jesus Christ and the Latter Day Saints. Because of this, if you are going to visit either the Mormon Visitor’s Center or the jail where Joseph Smith was kept, you will end up talking to Mormons about God. And when that happens, you will see that their religion works for them. They are a caring, friendly, good natured people who have a passion for their religion (Which they should, since they’re working in the Visitor’s Center and the Prison Museum and all). It was a great experience getting to talk to the girls who gave us the tours. And therefore, I have nothing negative to say about Mormons. They may not accept gays, but I accept them.

The second group were just the average people I got to talk to on the street in Independence.

Thank you, kind stranger!

Thank you, kind stranger!

They were oddly dressed, but helpful.

Uh, I don't know why anyone would need wagon axles, but thanks for the tip.

Uh, I don’t know why anyone would need wagon axles, but thanks for the tip.

Although, they did have some knowledge that isn’t all that useful for your average, devilishly handsome, modern man such as myself.

Thanks for the tip about oxen, dick, that's really relevant to my situation.

Thanks for the tip about oxen, dick, that’s really relevant to my situation.

Finally, the last local I want to talk about is this crazy asshole:

He's the sketchiest looking firefighter I've ever seen.

He’s the sketchiest looking firefighter I’ve ever seen.

This is Kevin, longtime fan of this blog and Internet friend to me. We had never met in person, so when he was able to convince Adam Todd Brown of, along with stand-up comics Jeff May and Genevieve Mueller to come to Kansas City for the stand-up comedy show, and I planned my visit, it was going to be an added bonus meeting him for the first time. And hey! Here is a pic of us on our first (totally not staged) meeting:

Kevin and I's first meeting

But just after that picture was taken, tragedy struck. It struck like a drunk man whose woman wouldn’t shut her damn yap for one goddamn minute.  Black clouds materialized above us, blotting out the sun and kicking up wind. As the wind picked up speed, its howl became a roar. Shingles ripped off of roofs of houses, tree limbs snapped, garbage cans rolled down the street as if they knew what was coming and they wanted to get the fuck out of here. And then, From behind Kevin came a towering, smoke grey tornado.

“Tornado!” Dave and I cried in unison.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this!” Kevin screamed as he pulled out his penis.

As Dave and I dove for cover under the car, Kevin’s penis tied itself into a lasso and threw itself at the oncoming tornado. Kevin struggled while the fierce winds of the tornado fought against his mighty penis. Somehow, physics be damned, Kevin’s member lassoed the cyclone, which thrashed back and forth against the superpowered schlong.

“That’s no tornado!” Kevin yelled over the roaring wind, his penis tightening its grip around the cyclone, “This is my arch nemesis!”

The tip of Kevin’s penis reached up to the top of the tornado, and ripped off the mask to reveal-

“Martin Lawrence?!” I cried as I stared dumbfounded at the star of such classics as Big Momma’s House 2 and Wild Hogs.

“I’m confused… by so many things,” Dave added, “But who is Martin Lawrence?”

“A failed actor-“

“Fuck you Erecto!” Lawrence screamed. Kevin’s penis tightened its grip.

Kevin continued, “Who turned into a mad scientist after the movie ‘Death at a Funeral.’ He is also a master of disguise.” “My real name is Kevin Kamend, and this” he explained, pointing to his waving dick, “Is my superpowered penis, more commonly known as Erecto.”

Dave and I did’t reply. We just stared, expecting  Kevin to laugh and say that he was fucking with us. He didn’t.

“Unfortunately,” Kevin Kamend added after the long silence, “I need to take Mr. Lawrence back to Prison.”

“You haven’t seen the last of me, Erecto!”

Kevin’s penis slapped Martin Lawrence across the face. Then, it stretched up, above both their heads, and begun to spin like a propeller.  Kevin stepped up to the bound actor, and wrapped his long arms around him and locking his hands together. He rested his head on Lawrence’s chest and closed his eyes, as if this was his happy place. After only a few seconds, the penis was spinning so fast that it began to make the rhythmic “wop wop” sound of it slicing through the air. Then, the helicoptering penis lifted Kevin and Martin Lawrence into the air and flew away, leaving Dave and I in the middle of the wreckage of the tornado/Lawrence disguise.

“So,” I said, turning to Dave, who was still staring at the shrinking peniscopter with his mouth agape, “I guess it’ll just be you and me today.”

(Writer’s note: Kevin wanted me to put a story filled with our inside jokes about his super powered dick in here, not me. So what I learned about non-Mormon Kansas City natives is that they’re weird and you shouldn’t talk to them unless necessary.)

Overall atmosphere

Kansas City isn’t nearly as desolate wasteland devoid of culture as Kevin claims it is. The people are friendly (I only talked to Kevin, the Mormon girls, and a few owners of businesses, so that assumption may be skewed a little), the BBQ is amazing, and the sites are interesting, especially if you’re into History. My only wish is that I would have been able to go to Schlitterbahn, but that just means that I’ll have to make a second visit! But still, fuck all these highways.

An Adventure in the World of WTF

OK, so I honestly have no idea what this story is about, let alone named, so let’s just say the title of this blog post is the working title. Also, sorry this is so long. But to be fair, if you’ve read anything of mine before, you should have expected it to be that way. If you’re new to my blog, Welcome! This is going to be the weirdest shit that you’ve ever experienced. Enjoy.


I sat down on the toilet and commenced my daily routine of relieving myself of bodily waste. Just as I finished releasing the first fudge basilisk into the icy toilet water, I felt a sudden, sharp pain inside my ass.

“Fucking Arby’s” I grumbled as I strained to release whatever diabolical creation their food formed inside my digestive tract.

My butthole released a small fart, and then my whole body started shaking. And I don’t mean that I began to convulse or that my hands became unsteady, I mean every inch of my body began to vibrate. From somewhere inside my gut, a 40 foot long steel girder shook me from the inside out. The girder rocketed out of my asshole and into the toilet, the force of which sent me flying off of the seat and into the corner of the wall and the ceiling.

Somehow, I managed to slide down the wall with my face until it was wedged in the corner of the floor and wall, and my ass in the air.

I turned my head as best I could, and found that it wasn’t a steel girder erupting from my butt, it was a rainbow.

“Nope,” I grunted, “this isn’t from Arby’s. This is definitely Chic-Fil-A’s doing.”

If Chic-Fil-A isn't ruining your heart, it's making you shoot rainbows out of your ass.

If Chic-Fil-A isn’t ruining your heart, it’s making you shoot rainbows out of your ass.

The colors of the shit rainbow pooled at the ceiling, each growing denser and denser, until the pressure from the light blasted the entire roof off of my house. Once the shit rainbow had finished erupting out of my asshole, and I realized that I was not only alive, but feeling better, I climbed out from under the rainbow. The arch stretched up into the blue sky and vanished around the top. All along the rainbow were smatterings of my shit. I stared up, both dumbfounded and agast at what my butthole had produced and what that creation had done to my house. Then, at the top of the rainbow, a glimmering, white object appeared and ran down the leg. It was a horse. As it got closer and I could see it in better detail, I saw a single horn on its head and its tail and main colored like a rainbow. It was a unicorn.

“What the fuck?”

“Hey, dawg,” The unicorn said do me once it reached my bathroom, “Yo, listen, my name is Loquacious, an’ I need you to climb up on my back and come with me.”

“What the fuck?!” I repeated

“Listen fool!” The magical horse screamed at me, “Ya’ll need to listen to me and listen good, ya herr? Ya’ll need to come wit me back to my world. We got a job that only you can help us wit.”

With my pants still around my ankles, I replied in an even tone, “I would love to travel up the rainbow that just shot from my ass, but I have some shit I have to deal with right now.” Then, pointing to the toilet and where my roof used to be, I added, “both literal and figurative.”

“We ain’t got time for that, bitch, we gots to go now!”

“Holy shit, what did you just sa-AAHHH!” I began before the Unicorn scooped me up with is head (my buttcheeks being cradled by his horn) and threw me onto his back.

He sprinted  back up the rainbow as I held on to his body and screamed in fear. The unicorn bounded up the arch, dodging my shit clumps all the while with graceful leaps. Within seconds, we were hundreds of feet above my neighborhood, coming up to the curve of the rainbow. Then, I remembered about how the rainbow ended.

I stopped screaming, and asked Loquacious, “What happens at the end of the rainbow?”

“We jump!” He replied merrily. Then in a firm tone he added, “But you gotta think happy thoughts or we’ll just fall back to your world.”

“How the Hell am I supposed to think happy thoughts with this shit happening?!”

“I dunno, dawg. Focus or some shit.”

We crested the curve. The end of the rainbow was only a football field or so away. Fuck. I closed my eyes and concentrated. Think happy thoughts. I told myself. What are the things that make me happy? Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes. Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes- Gah! Fuck Julie Andrews!

"Do you see? Do you see all the fucks I give about your opinion of me?" -Julie Andrews

“Do you see? Do you see all the fucks I give about your opinion of me?”
-Julie Andrews

I could feel Loquacious’s body tense up, and then feel my own go weightless. Stupidly, I opened my eyes for long enough to see the pimple sized houses of my neighborhood scroll beneath us.

“FUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKK!” I screamed before clamping my eyes shut again.

I was weightless for only a moment or two, but for those brief moments I wondered what poor life decisions I made that lead me to this moment.  Was this karmic justice for all the shitty things I’ve put my friends through? Did I just take a Mexican Cartel’s worth of drugs? Was God just being kind of a dick today? I decided it was probably the last one.

We hit the ground-actually, no, we didn’t hit the ground. We landed lightly on what I guessed by the sound was a soft patch of grass. I kept my eyes closed and my body wrapped tightly around the horse.

“Yo, get off me fool. We’re here.” Loquacious stated.

I opened my eyes and they were immediately assaulted with vibrant color. I threw up right on the patch of technicolor green grass. To be honest, I wasn’t sure whether it was the near death experience or the color that caused me vomiting, but either way I hoped that my vomit would create a dragon or some other weird shit that would take me back home. No such luck.

“Damn, dawg, you nasty,” the unicorn laughed.

“Where the hell are we?” I asked after I spit the last bit of vomit and saliva from my mouth.

“I told you, son, we’re in my world now.”

“But How? I didn’t think a single happy thought.”

The stupid unicorn erupted with stupid, hysterical laughter, “Sheeit, I didn’t think you’d believe me! Dawg, I was fuckin’ wit choo! I don’t need no happy thoughts to cross dimensions. What do I look like, that Peter Pan faggot?”

“OK, listen up you magical bucket of glue and Canadian steaks, if you-“

I was interrupted by a joyous hum and the pattering of little feet from behind me. I turned and found myself being surrounded by dozens of small animals. There was a turtle whose shell was covered in multicolored flowers, tiger and leopard cubs, several white baby seals, two green aliens driving a hippy VW bug convertible, and several puppies and kittens. Every single animal had big, unnaturally colored eyes, and a happy smile on their face. Shining down from the sky above us was a giant yellow face. It smiled at me. The sun smiled at me. Already fuck this place.

Lisa Frank- Aliens

Lisa Frank- Turtle

Lisa Frank-Cat-Dog

Seriously. Fuck this place.

“You brought him!” a bright yellow golden retriever puppy squeaked, “I cannot believe he’s here at last!”

From the back of the group, a creature was forcing its way towards Loquacious and me, while demanding to other animals, “Step aside please. Yes you too. Can’t you see the mayor coming through?”

The crowd parted, and a penguin wearing a blue bow tie waddled towards us.

Lisa Frank-Penguin

“Good Gracious, Loquacious, How’d you get so bodacious?!” The penguin cried as it waddled past me and up to the unicorn.

The unicorn held out its hoof, and the penguin slapped it with his wing. They then began to excitedly whisper to one another while glancing towards me. I took this time to pull my pants back up. As I did, I looked around to the various animals in the crowd, and each of them had their eyes fixed upon me. They watched every move I made with awe and excitement. Buckling my belt received a collective “ooh” from the crowd, while flipping them off had them react in unison with “Ah!”

“So why the hell am I here?” I yelled at the penguin, getting tired of being the brightly colored animals’ side show attraction.

The penguin turned to me and replied with a bow, “I, Mayor Ed Quinn the Penguin, would like to formally welcome you, for this is our magical land of the rainbow hue!”

“I shit myself to death, and I’m currently in Hell, aren’t I?”

“Oh no!” Ed Quinn the Penguin shouted, “I don’t know of this place you call ‘Hell’, but we call this place Puffoots upon Atell!”

“Really, I retorted, “Because it looks like I got sucked into a Lisa Frank notebook cover.”

“Lisa Frank is a cunt!” a magenta kitten shouted from the crowd.

“Wait,” I replied skeptically, “You have no idea what Hell is, but you know enough about Lisa Frank to hate her?”

“Yo dawg, She is the one of the only other humans that’s come here,” Loquacious explained, “And dat bitch used her visit here to make her millions, witout givin’ us shit for using our likenesses.”

“So is that why I’m here?”

“Of course not, my human tot,” Ed Quinn the penguin answered, “For you, I have the most important of tasks. I want you to hunt for the 7 Crystaline-“

“Gigglebugs!” a voice cried from just  over a nearby hill. Seconds later, the owner of the voice, a purple husky puppy riding on the back of a polar bear, crested the top of the hill. It screamed again, “Gigglebugs! They’ve breached the Sunshiny Wall!”

Panic and chaos followed the announcement. Screams erupted from the crowd of animals as they ran different directions, stumbling over each other in blind fear. The polar bear mounted husky rode down to where I, Loquacious, and Ed Quinn the Penguin stood. The Polar bear was out of breath, and both had traumatized looks on their faces. Behind them, a golden cloud rose above the hill. As I looked closer, I realized that it wasn’t a cloud, it was a swarm- a swarm of golden beetles the size of teacups.

The swarm arched up high in the air, catching the attention of the panicking animals, and descended upon them. They gathered on the turtle first, which began to laugh hysterically and writhe (as much as a turtle can, anyway) on the ground.  The turtle continued to laugh as the bugs ripped the skin off of its legs and face and into its muscles and organs, until only the shell and the bones were left. It only took twenty seconds at the longest. I didn’t think to time it.

“Jesus Hamster chucking Christ!”

“Snow puff and Frosty paws, we  have no time for you to pause,” Ed Quinn commanded, to the polar bear and husky puppy, “Take as many of our towns people as you can find and hide them in the glitter mines.”  He then turned to Loquacious and added, “Take the human and flee. Head to the tie-dye mountains, just past the Friendship Tree!”

Pictured: The Rainbow Mountains, right past the Friendship Tree

Pictured: The Rainbow Mountains, right past the Friendship Tree

“Wait,” I cried as the penguin mayor waddled away, “What am I doing here? What do you want me hunt for?”

Ed Quinn turned around to answer me, but as he did, the golden cloud of giggle bugs landed on him. He collapsed into a laughing pile on the vibrant green grass and batted at the insects as they ripped the flesh off of his body in tiny strips. The penguin writhed and laughed as the bugs tore down to the bone. He only stopped when the gigglebugs chewed into his throat. The golden insects reached his sternum, and his organs began to spill out of the newly formed hole. Holy shit did that drive the gigglebugs into a frenzy.

Screaming, I jumped onto the back of Loquacious. Just as he was turning to sprint as far away from the nightmare that had just unfolded in the meadow, I felt several sharp stabs in my legs.

“Argh, fuck knuckles!” I screamed, “I’m bit!”

“Shit dawg!” Loquacious cried, “What should I do?”


He sprinted, and I took one last look back at the gore behind us. Ed Quinn the Penguin had stopped moving. I sighed. I never got an answer to my questions. I felt another sharp pain form in my leg, just above the knee this time. Wait, I thought, Why aren’t I laughing? I looked down to find the magenta cat, the one that called Lisa Frank a cunt, clinging to my pant leg, and incidentally, me. I grumbled, grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck, and pulled it off of my leg. He squirmed in my had, clawing at my wrist and throwing out a torrent of curse words at me, each offensive phrase more colorful and offensive to the senses than the surrounding landscape.

“What the hell do you want?” I asked the cat.

“To not fucking die, dipshit,” The cat retorted.

“Well, then stop being an asshole, and I won’t throw you back to the gigglebugs.”

The cat’s adorable eyes grew wider, and it replied, “I’ll be good.”

“Good,” I answered as I plopped it down on in front of me on Loquacious’s back.

“Aieee! Dawg! Get the giggle bugs off my back, yo!” Loquacious cried as he began try to buck the cat and I off.

I wrapped my arms around the unicorn’s neck and screamed, “It’s a cat, it’s a cat!” He either didn’t believe me or didn’t hear me, because he continued to try and buck us off. His spine crushing my dick and balls with every kick and junp.

“It’s Honeypuss, you fucking idiot,” the magenta cat yelled over Loquacious’s whinnying, “Stop trying to kill me and the human.”

Loquacious heard this and stopped. I fell off of his back and curled into the fetal position on the ground, cradling my balls.

“Good going cock nugget,” the kitten snapped at the unicorn, “You ruined the human’s brain.”

The unicorn turned around and put his face close to mine. His breath was sweet, as if every single one of his meals consisted of brown sugar and carrots. “Shit, dawg, sorry for crushing your brain, yo.”

“Human,” Honeypuss added, “I bet you’re really fucking concussed right now, but we need to get moving. Those goddamn bugs will chase us for miles, and we didn’t make it that far.” The kitten then muttered to the Unicorn, “At least everyone else got to go to the glitter mines. But we’re fucking stuck with this douche as he wimpers about how much his head hurts and how he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.”

“First of all, fuck you, cat,” I grunted as I slowly climbed to my feet, still holding my junk.  Then, I continued, “Secondly, I’m more than happy to go back home and leave you rainbow colored animals to whatever happens if I don’t do what it is I am supposed to do. I have absolutely no stake in any of your survival. And Thirdly, my brain is in my head, Loquacious hurt my dick and balls.”

“Your brain is in your head?” Honeypuss asked, “That’s weird as shit that doesn’t smell like flowers.”

“So, shit?”

“Your shit,” the kitten clarified. “Anyway,” he continued, None of us have that junk you have in between your legs, we all just assumed that’s where you humans keep your brains.”

I stopped and couldn’t help myself from studying their crotches. Nope. Nothing. There was absolutely no genitalia.

“How do you guys reproduce if you don’t have genitals?”

The unicorn and kitten gave me a weird look, “Reproduce?”

I sighed, and for the next hour or so, I walked beside Loquacious and Honeypuss and described (in detail) what reproduction meant. They listened with a glint of excitement in their big, colorful eyes as I discussed what sex was. They urged me to give them more and more information. I covered positions, and oral, and anal, and assholes, and the female and male G-spots, and boobs and fetishes and porn and masturbation and orgies and everything else on the topic I could think of until, finally, I said all that I could say on the topic.

“That sounds like the coolest shit ever, homie!” Loquacious exclaimed.”

“Fuck. Yes.” Honeypuss added, “Too bad we can’t do that stuff. We don’t even know where our young come from. We’ll have to ask Dr.McRibbit when we get back.”

I'm a Frog, but also a doctor, but also uncomfortably sexual.

I’m a Frog, but also a doctor, but also uncomfortably sexual.

“If he’s still alive, Sheeit, he could’ve gotten eaten fo’ all we know!” Loquacious replied.

“Fuck. You’re right. If he hadn’t gotten the shit eaten out of him by those bugs, we’ll ask him.”

“Ok, now I have a question,” I interjected, “How in the Hell did you animals think a wall was going to keep out bugs that can fly?”

“Huh?” the unicorn and kitten answered in unison.

“The Sunshiny Wall. The husky puppy said that those bugs breached the sunshiny wall. But the bugs can fly, so why even use a wall as a defense?”

“Because it’s not the fucking wall, but what’s covering it that makes it our most important goddamn defense.”

“What’s covering it?”

“Glitter. Those fucking giggle bugs fucking hate anything sparkly. They won’t pass it when the sun shines on it. That’s why Ed Quinn had everyone flee to the glitter mines. That’s the only place that’s safe if the glitter on the sunshiny wall fails to keep them back. But one gust of wind usually blows an gap in the glitter for the gigglebugs to pass through.”

“Why not just glue the glitter onto the wall, or your houses, or the roads in your town for that matter?” I asked.

“Using what? Our piss?” Honeypuss retorted.

“Well,” I started, nodding at Loquacious, who wasn’t looking at me.

Loquacious noticed the silence, looked back to find me nodding at him, and said “Nah, fuck dat, man. Ain’t no one making me into glue.”

We walked in silence for a little while after that- Then because, I assume, they were wondering if there were any survivors, me because I didn’t want to talk to either of them. After some time, the giant yellow sun, whose stupid fucking face was still shining down on us, had begun to set on the horizon. Periodically, it would yawn. I wanted to punch it in its stupid mouth.

I was about to vocalize my desire to beat the shit out of their son of a bitch sun, when Loquacios cried with joy, “We’re almost there, dawgs! Dat’s da Friendship tree up ahead!”

I looked. Not that far ahead of us was a lone tree. Its leaves were a deep green, and it was spotted with fruit of different colors. The tree itself swayed and bobbed up and down, as if it were dancing in place to a song I couldn’t hear. Beneath it was a still pool of blue water that reflected the tree and sky like glass. I licked my lips. After everything that happened over the past few hours, I didn’t have time to think about how long it had been since I had eaten or drank anything. But now the thirst and hunger came pounding on my stomach.

Smiling tree

“Hey, do you mind if we stop at the tree. I’m kind of hungry and thirsty.”

Loquacious and Honeypuss looked at one another and then to me. “You don’t want to eat and drink there, dawg. You won’t like dat tree.”

“I only have to tolerate it long enough to get some water and some of its fruit,” I replied, “Then it can eat a dick, for all I care.”

I ran ahead of the protesting unicorn and kitten, and, begrudgingly, they followed.

“But that’s the fucking Friendship Tree!” Honeypuss cried.

“So it should be friendly enough to let me eat and drink, so no problem!” I yelled back.

As I got close enough, I noticed that the tree was dancing to a song, but that the song was one it was singing to itself. I walked up to it. It continued to sing and bob around without noticing me.

“Hello?” I called up to it.

“I love my friends/ I love all I see/ I share my love/ I’m the friendship tree!” The tree sang to itself  in a deep voice.

“Hey, Tree!” I yelled.

Startled, the tree looked around before spotting me. “Why hello little fella!” the tree exclaimed, “Are you my new friend?”

“Sure, whatever,” I said, “Can I take a drink from your pool and eat some of your fruit?”

The tree reached out one of its branches, wrapped it gently around me, and lifted me into the air. The tree was almost all face. It’s big eyes and mouth were made up of the arrangement of the branches, twigs, and leaves. Those branches and twigs shifted as the eyes and mouth moved, creating a low creaking sound that was only partially masked by its voice. As the tree lifted me up so that I was face-to- giant face with it, another branch stretched out and patted me on my head.

“What did you want again?” The tree asked as its branch caressed my cheek.

I batted it away and repeated, “Can I take a drink from your pool and eat some of your fruit?”

The tree smiled a wide, gleeful smile, “Why of course new friend! I love doing favors for friends! But can you do me a favor too?”

I sighed, brushed the branch away from my face again, and grunted the question, “What favor do you want?”

The tree didn’t answer, unless you call tightening its grip on me and feeling me up with its branches an answer. Which I guess in this case you could, I guess. The tree licked its leafy lips with its wooden tongue as it felt me up, more aggressively with each touch.

“Uh, guys?” I called back to Loquacious and Honeypuss, “A little help?!”

“Sorry, dawg,” Loquacious called from what sounded to be far away from the tree, “We ain’t comin’ a hoof closer to that tree.”

“What does it want to do?!” I cried.

The Friendship Tree wrapped its branches around my ankles and spread my legs apart. Then, I felt a branch slither up my pants. I struggled. The tree tightened its grip on me.

“Guys! do something!” I screamed. I thrashed, but that only seemed to make the Friendship Tree more aroused.

“What in the high flying fuck do you want us to do?” Honeypuss called back, clearly enjoying watching me suffer.

I bit down on a branch that tried to enter my mouth and screamed back, “I dunno! Loquacious, you have some kind of rainbow power don’t you? Use that!”

“I can’t do dat, homie” Loquacious answered.


“Oh, I’m about to, new friend!” The Friendship Tree replied. Then, after a pause, it added, “You did say ‘try fucking’ right?”


Just then, a bright beam of light shot under me and hit the pool of water. It reflected off of the pool, and then the rainbow colored beam hit the trunk of the Friendship Tree, causing it to burst into flames. The tree wailed and thrashed, throwing me back down to the soft grass as it tried to extinguish the multicolored flames that had spread across its body. I stumbled, crawled, and then ran back to Loquacious and Honeypuss. From behind me I heard a loud splash of water, followed by a pained groan.

Try not to be weirded out by The Giving Tree after reading that.

Go ahead and try not to be weirded out by The Giving Tree after reading that.

“Ho-lee sheeit! I can shoot rainbows out of my mouth! Dis is da best day ever, yo!”

“Come back, friend!” The Friendship tree called weakly.

“Go fuck yourself,” I replied between deep breaths, “And I mean that literally.” I turned back to Loquacious and Honeypuss, both of whom were smiling faux innocent smiles at me. I screamed, “WHY IN THIS TECHICOLORED WORLD OF FUCKS WOULD YOU NOT WARN ME THAT THAT TREE RAPES WHOEVER GETS TOO CLOSE!?”

“Well, we never had a word for what it does until know,” Honeypuss answered flatly.

“So why do you call it the ‘Friendship Tree’ and not the ‘Stay Away Tree?’”

“Because everyone just fucking knows to stay away from the tree. We only use it as a land mark because everyone knows what and where the Friendship Tree is, and we all know to keep a safe distance away from it. You’re the dumbass who didn’t listen to us.”

“But on the bright side, dawg,” Loquacious added, “You just gave us its new name, the “Rape Tree.”

“Eh,” Honeypuss replied, “I think Friendship Tree has a better ring to it.” Then to me, he added, “Now if you’re done letting yourself get raped, we have to get you to the Tye-Dye Mountains. It’s going to be fucking night soon.”

Clenching my fists, I seethed, “I hate literally everything in this stupid world.”

Neither the unicorn, nor the kitten paid attention to me, and the three of us walked on, ignoring the calls from the Friendship Tree for me to return to it.

At some point, maybe an hour or so after the Friendship Tree incident, as I was walking far ahead of the unicorn and kitten, Honeypuss asked, “So, are we just going to ignore the fact that you had Loquacious shoot a rainbow laser out of his mouth, even though he’s never been fucking able to do that shit before?”

I didn’t answer.

“I guess not.” Honeypuss mumbled to Loquacious.

As we walked on, day melted into night, and the grinning sun gave way to a smattering of giant, neon stars and planets across the night sky, which kept the world about as lit as before, but with a more “Christmas Lights on an explosive amount of steroids” feel to it.  Loquacious was telling some story about how he befriended some woman that lives in a bubble and her green lesbian lover during one of his many travels to different worlds. Honeypuss and I listened as we both searched the horizon for anything that looked like the Tie-Dye Mountains. Other than three small objects ahead of us, there was nothing but the green grass plane all around us for miles.


“Did you hear that,” Loquacious asked as panic crept into his voice.


“Hear what?” I asked.


“That.” Honeypuss replied, “What the fuck is that?”


“Aw fuck nah, man, fuck nah,” Loquacious groaned as he darted around me, looking off in the distance. “We need to find someplace to hide, now.”



“Teddy Bear Vikings!”

Teddy Bear Vikings are almost as bad as Hip Hop Teddy bears.

Teddy Bear Vikings are almost as bad as Hip Hop Teddy bears.

“Fuck nuggets!” Honeypuss replied, “Those things on the fucking horizon are their land ships, and they’re headed right fucking for us!”


“We need to hide, dawgs. We def don’t wanna have a run in with them.”

“Well, where are we going to hide?  There is nothing around us. Not even a rock to lie behind,” I noted.

The next bump was noticeably louder, and the ships had covered half the distance to us since we first spotted them.

“Shit.” Honeypuss added, “The Human is right. There’s no escape from them now.”

“Escape from what?” A gruff voice asked from behind and above us.

We turned. Behind us towered a Viking ship, specifically, the Viking ship that would be the death of us. Emblazoned in gold on the blood red flag was  bear paw. Along either side were a set of paddles equipped with boots to push the boat forward, and a series of shields with a teddy bear’s face painted on them. Each plank of wood that made up the hull was of a different color, which I couldn’t help but notice that the ship would just as equally be at home in a gay pride parade as it would here. From the deck above jumped the captain Teddy bear, whose body squeeked when he landed on the grass.

He was about my height, but his horned helmet and thick boots made him look much taller. Over what would probably be an adorable teddybear face was a long dirty beard that hung down to his stomach. He carried an axe at his side, its blades were chipped and dulled from years of conquering, plundering, and murdering.

“What are you three doing out so late?”

None of us answered. The three ships from the horizon were upon us now, effectively surrounding us.

“Come on now.” He added as he walked back and forth in front of us, “Tell me, what are you three doing out here. It’s not safe to wander out on the Happyness Meadow at night. You could get killed by what lives out here. Or worse…”

“Yeah, we know,” Honeypuss answered. He nodded towards me and added, “We had to rescue this dipshit from the Friendship Tree.”

The Teddy Bear Viking Captain, as well as many of his crew, laughed hearty laughs at my expence. “Human, eh? Your kind is rare in this land. Demanding a ransom for you will feed my clan for years!”

I laughed a nervous laugh and explained, “Guys, don’t listen to the Unicorn and the cat, I’m not human! I only look like I’m human. I’m actually just a boring old, uh, xenomorph?” Shit. Hopefully they don’t know what that is. “Yep. Xenomorph. I’m totally one of those. We’re very common and not worth kidnapping.”

Xenomorphs are surprisingly common in the Lisa Frank Universe.

Xenomorphs are surprisingly common in the Lisa Frank Universe.

The Teddy Bear Vikings moaned in disappointment. Holding up his paw to silence them, their leader replied, “That’s too bad, xenomorph. You would have been a great hostage. But I guess we’ll have to kill you and your friends instead.” He drew his sword, and his fellow Teddy Bear Vikings jumped down from the ships, each one squeaking on their landing.

I held my hand up in front of them, took a step back towards Loquacious and Honeypuss, and yelled, “You don’t want to kill me! As a xenomorph, my blood is actually a highly corrosive acid. Killing me could potentially kill you all as well. Also…” I grabbed Honeypuss by the scruff of her neck.

“Hey! What the fuck are you doing?!” Honeypuss thrashed.

“This!” I chucked Honeypuss at the Viking leader’s face. Instinctively, Honeypuss latched on, and dug her claws deep into his face.

The Teddy Bear Viking roared in pain and slashed blindly at the air with his sword, slicing the throat of one of his fellow Vikings. White stuffing poured from the ghastly wound, the bear held his paws up to the wound, but it didn’t help. The bear was completely deflated in less than a minute. I jumped onto the back of Loquacious as the rest of the Vikings tried to get the magenta kitten off their leader’s face. One of the Vikings prepared to stab Honeypuss with is sword.

“Honeypuss,” I cried, “Jump here!”

Honeypuss launched herself at me with a “You lousy, pale skinned, motherfucker!” and dug her claws deep into my chest. Just in time, too, because the Teddy Bear Viking drove his sword at where Honeypuss was and ended up stabbing his captain in the face. The Teddy Bear Viking Captain screamed and ran in circles with the sword sticking halfway out of his face, and Honeypuss began to alternate swearing at me with biting my neck.

“Loquacious,” I screamed, “Get us out of here!”

“Straight up, dawg!” Loquacious lowered his head, began to shake, and then vomited a blinding rainbow laser at the teddy bears. The bears dove out of the line of light at the last second, so the beam torched a long hole in the hull of the ship in front of us. The wood moaned, and then began to collapse down on us.

The leader of the teddy bears saw this and gasped, “He’s the chosen one! MEN, QUICK, KILL THE CHOSEN ONE!”


“Gotcha.” The unicorn charged forward, blasting through the crumbling Viking ship, and below us a rainbow road formed. Loquacious kept gaining speed until we were far enough away from the Teddy Bear Vikings. Up ahead, I could see the rainbow coming to an end. Loquacious was still speeding up. The three of us screamed. We reached the end of the road, and we vanished.


To Be Continued…

…I’m not sure when, but eventually…


The American Douchebag’s Guide to Europe- Scotland


Scotland has a long history of fighting with people.  They fought the Romans (Hence the construction of Hadrian’s wall by the Romans), the Vikings, The British, and of course each other. The Highland clans were like the street gangs of their time, and the Clan Campbell and the Clan MacDonald were the Crips and Bloods.

In 1703, Scotland was officially taken over by England, and was incorporated into the U.K., which it remains to this day since their damn referendum to secede fell through.

A fun side fact: The flag that everyone thinks of as the British Flag, the Union Jack:


Isn’t actually the Flag of Engand. This is:


If that doesn’t make sense to you, look at the name of the first flag. It’s called UNION Jack. It’s named that for a reason. That reason is if you take the British flag and combine it with the flag of Scotland:

Flag of Scotland

And the flag of Northern Ireland:


You get the Union Jack.

And if you are wondering why the Welsh flag isn’t also a part of this, it’s because Wales was only a principality when the U.K. was formed. They never added an element of the Welsh Flag when it was declared a country because to Hell with Wales.

Although that dragon would be pretty bitchin’ on the Union Jack.

Although that dragon would be pretty bitchin’ on the Union Jack.

Initial Thoughts

“You know, I always expected Scotland to have a lot more kilt and bagpipe shops than there is in reality. It’s pretty disappointing, actually- Oh wait, there’s one. Never mind. And wow, we only left the airport 5 minutes ago.”

Let it be known that Scotland would look exactly like England if it wasn’t for all the Kilt and wool shops and their flag flying everywhere like the ghost of William Wallace. Which, by the way, if you do ever go to Scotland and you decide to stay out after 2:00 AM, you will see Wallace’s ghost. Be warned.


We, by which I mean my boyfriend Dave and I, stayed at the Motel 1 on the hilariously named Cockburn street. I assume Motel 1 was named that ironically, since not only is it not the only motel in Edinburgh, but it isn’t even the only Motel 1 in Edinburgh. The other Motel one was less than a mile away from the one we stayed. You could see it from the main entrance to ours.  Way to try to monopolize Motel 1 corp.

I'm glad we didn't stay here.

At least we didn’t stay here. This place sounds painful.

This motel was styled in a very modern, yet also somewhat rustic fashion. The lobby and dining areas had tables made from repurposed whisky casks, and the bench seating along the windows had blue plaid cushions and sheep skin blankets.  Yet, everything had clean lines and stainless steel accents. The room was no different. Have a look:


You cannot tell from the picture, but the design that is on the brown pillows is also on the carpet and the drapes, which could lead into a multitude of pube jokes that I’m just going to pass on for now. Instead, here’s the bathroom:


Infinite selfies!

Infinite selfies!

I will, however, say this about the bathroom: It was too small to be equipped with such a shitty fan. The bathroom would turn into a steam room within 5 minutes of me getting into the shower. I learned to leave the bathroom door and the window to outside open for ventilation, but ugh, that’s a pain in the ass when I could just do nothing instead. Thanks for nothing, Motel 1.


In Edinburgh, The majority of the more famous sites can be found on or near the Royal mile. The Royal mile is a road that goes up the hill from Hollyrood Palace to Edinburgh Castle. The castle is the older of the two structures and is situated on the highest point in Edinburgh. Hollyrood is the more modern palace (The Current Queen stays there in the summer), but it is also where Mary Queen of Scots lived until the murder of her first son. After that she moved up to the Castle to protect herself and her unborn child. While Holyrood palace still maintains the elegance of being a working palace, the castle has gone full tourism mode.  Most of the buildings are used as museums or displays of what life (palace life, the dungeons) was like back in the day. The castle has around 5 separate gift shops inside it, which makes me think that they ran out of ideas of what to do with all the extra space.


Along the Royal mile itself  are a series of shops and restaurants. Most of the shops pretty much all sell what you would expect from Scotland: Kilts, miniature bagpipes, canned haggis, anything with a clan name printed on it, and vaguely Celtic items. The more touristy place sold shot glasses and other forgettable souvenirs. However, there were still quite a few shops along the Royal mile that are unique and contain items that I didn’t see anywhere else. Old Town Context is one such store. Old Town Context is actually part of a small chain of stores in Scotland that sell old fashioned curiosities. Miniature stair cases, hot air balloon mobiles, and old tin signs are just some of the many interesting things you can find in this store of curiosities. Here’s their website if you want to see what it’s like. Other than Old town Context, there was a shop the sold various Celtic items, such as Celtic knot window hangs, and miniature recreations of Pictish runes. Then there are whisky shops, and shops that sold wool, and two different Christmas shops. The Royal Mile, has a shit load of stores, is basically what I’m trying to get at.

The Royal Mile, right before the zombies attacked.

The Royal Mile, right before the zombies attacked.

Other sites to see in Old Town Edinburgh are The People’s museum on the Royal Mile, The Scottish Parliament Building, the Scotch Whiskey Experience, and Edinburgh’s hiking spots: The Salsbury Crag and Arthur’s Seat. If you want to witness the best views of Edinburgh, The top of Arthur’s seat is your destination. However, if you’re the typical fat American, be warned that it’s a long hike and there isn’t a single escalator to the top. Get on that, Edinburgh.


The Queen's gallery, Arthur's Seat,the Scottish Parliament building, and Scotland's famous vanishing cars.

The Queen’s gallery, Arthur’s Seat,the Scottish Parliament building, and Scotland’s famous vanishing cars. And on the far right, you can see the edge of existence.

In New Town, there is the Walter Scott Monument, The Edinburgh Monument, The National Gallery, The Modern Art Gallery,  and the tourist center. And all of it is within walking distance,  which is good unless you’re really against walking. And in that case, why did you decide to go to Europe in the first place, hypothetical lazy traveler? All of Europe is the walking capital of the world.

The Walter Scott Monument

The Walter Scott Monument

Outside of Edinburgh,  I also got to see Loch Ness, The highlands, and The Borders. Although, The Highlands of Scotland are less of a “tourist site” as it is “A natural geological formation that covers the majority of the country.” Loch Ness, despite it’s fame, Isn’t all that fascinating. It’s just a lake. Even the Loch Ness monster isn’t that mysterious. Here’s a picture of me about to punch it in it’s easy to find face. Way to suck at hunting things, Scotland.

I won the fight against Nessie, but only because I was wearing my shirt when I fought her.

I won the fight against Nessie, but only because I was wearing my shirt when I fought her.

She turned out to be super chill. We're friends now. I also credit this to my t-shirt.

She turned out to be super chill. We’re friends now. I also credit this to my t-shirt.

The Higlands, on the other hand, contain some of the most beautiful mountains I’ve ever seen, and I’ve  rock climbed up the Rockies, hiked up the Alps, and copped your mom’s titties.

Here's some aloe vera for that nasty burn.

Here’s some aloe vera for that nasty burn.

The Mountains in the highlands are so sudden, and I think that’s part of what makes them beautiful. There are no foothills to these mountains, unlike the Appalachian or Rocky foothills, Only steady, rolling plains and then mountains. But once you get to the first ones, Then you’ll be traveling between valleys for the rest of the trip. It is amazing.



Pictured: Not Loch Ness


This is Loch Ness- just a normal, everyday, poorly spelled lake.


There really is only one meal that is regularly associated with Scotland, and that food is Haggis.  Haggis is so infamous, that one of the most common questions I was asked once I got back was “Did you try the haggis?” (The second most common one is “Did you buy a kilt?” because everyone thinks I would look hot in a skirt.) And the Scottish really do eat it, once in the morning with their traditional Scottish breakfast (2 sausages, 2 pieces of english bacon, grilled tomato, grilled mushrooms, baked beans, haggis, a fried egg, either hashbrowns or potato scone, and 2 pieces of toast) and for dinner in the form of haggis, neeps, and tatties.  Before I go into the “neeps and tatties,” portion, I need to explain what haggis is. Haggis is, and how do I put this for your delicate sensibilities, a boatload of organs meat. More specifically, it is sheep lungs, liver, and kidneys, chopped up and boiled with  beef fat for six hours. Spices and oats are then added to it, the mixture is stuffed into a sheep’s stomach, and then it is boiled some more. It looks exactly as appealing as it sounds:

Haggis is the greyish sludge at the top of the plate.

Haggis is the greyish sludge at the top of the plate.

For dinner, haggis is served with neeps and tatties, or mashed turnips and potatoes. Despite everything haggis has going against it, it’s actually pretty good. It’s flavorful and hearty, and while its savoriness might become overwhelming after a while, the neeps and tatties do an excellent job at balancing out the flavor with sweet and starchy. Really, the main hurdle to get past with haggis is the fact that it looks like what you’d expect it to look like when it comes back out of you. Try not to think about that when you eat it because it will ruin the whole experience for you.  Also, if you want to eat haggis and not be grossed out, then do not read about how it’s made… I probably should have mentioned that earlier. That one’s on me. Sorry.

Haggis 2

Despite what I said about how good haggis is, Bangers and Mash had to be my favorite meal in Scotland, and not just because it sounds like a buddy cop show on the USA network. Bangers and Mash is sausage, mashed potatoes, and gravy. That’s it. It’s so simple, but delicious, and I’m a little mad I never thought of trying that before. Although, I don’t know why they need two different words for mashed potatoes. It’s like mashed potatoes are to them what snow is to the eskimos.


Just as you don’t go to Japan and not try the wine made with fermented baby mice, you don’t visit Scotland and not drink their scotch whisky.  Scotch whiskey is whiskey made with single malt grain, usually barley, which is then cooked over an open fire of peatmoss, which gives the whiskey its unique flavor.

Dave and I tried 6 different Scotches during a scotch tasting event I participated in (The event was that the bar was open and serving drinks).

The first whiskey we tried was from the Highlands:

Whiskey 1

We thought this one was sweet and mild. A nice starter whiskey- whiskey training wheels if you will.

The second one was from Speyside:

Whiskey 2

This one was much stronger and had a much smokier and peatier taste to it. This one needed more water than the rest to make it drinkable.

The third was from the island of Islay:

Whiskey 3

This one had a little bit more of a smokey taste to it, as well as more peat.

The fourth was another Highland scotch:

Whiskey 4

This whiskey had less smoke than the previous one, but was still detectable. It was also smoother than the previous one. This was our favorite.

#5 was another whiskey from Speyside

Whiskey 5

It was sweet, and had a very light smoke flavor to it

And finally #6

Whiskey 6

Apparently, this one was crafted in the boiling waters of hell and heated with the burning corpses of murderers. My trip-mate would describe the taste as sweet and syrupy, but I totally disagree and think that it tasted more like a million people screaming in my head. I only managed to take one sip of this one. And since my gag reflex desperately fought with me on that one sip, I didn’t try it again. But on the bright side, I didn’t throw it back up in the middle of the crowded bar. I’m calling that a win.


The Scottish people are actually some of the friendliest I’ve met in my travels. But that’s not what I want to talk about. What I want to talk about is how passionate they are about political issues. As luck or the fates or whatever would have it, Dave and I  just so happened to be in Scotland the day they voted on a referendum on whether or not they would secede from the UK. This would have been incredibly historical, since they have not been an independent nation since 1707. So if they would have voted to secede, we would have been there on their first independence day in over 300 years. Guess which side we were rooting for.

Unfortunately for us (and probably Scotland too or whatever) 55% of the people voted against seceding, so instead of partying out of my mind with them, they went on with their normal lives. How boring.

But the people there, at least the ones we talked to were passionate. Everyone we had talked to absolutely wanted independence, and they were quite willing to explain why to us. And if anything immediately humanizes a person from a foreign country, it’s listening to them talk about their government. Because many of their arguments are the same that we here in America: Politicians suck, the government is fucking us over, taxes are too high… It’s actually a little reassuring to hear that we aren’t the only ones going through this bullshit.

Oh, but my favorite thing about the Scottish people is the frequency they use the word “Cheers.” They use it all the time. All. The. Time. When they serve you a drink: Cheers. When they server you your food: Cheers. When a conversation comes to an end: Cheers.  When you buy something at their store: Cheers. I have no clue what the rules are for using that word, but they say it more often than a fraternity uses the word “bro.”

I also met this dog. It was the highlight of my trip.

I also met this dog. It was the highlight of my trip.

Overall atmosphere

The atmosphere of Scotland pretty laid back. Everyone is friendly, everything is easy to find and get to, and with a native population that is outnumbered by sheep, you’ll never find a section of Edinburgh that is overcrowded and loud. And the city (like any city in Great Britian where Tourism is big business) is kept very clean.  But while Edingurgh has the cleanliness of London, it is more condensed, making all the sites easier to get to, as well as a distinct historical district. Simply put, Scotland was amazing.

Ok. Here’s more pics:

Scotland has these. What a great country.

Scotland has these. What a great country.

A random courtyard that I took a picture of because it looked European. Please note that people live in those houses, so me taking a picture of them is a little creepy.

A random courtyard that I took a picture of because it looked European. Please note that people live in those houses, so me taking a picture of them is a little creepy.



A foggy night in Edinburgh. Also. that sign fucked up my picture.

Hollyrood Palace

Hollyrood Palace

The ruins of the Abbey at Hollyrood

The ruins of the Abbey at Hollyrood

The gardens looking towards the ruins of the Abbey at Hollyrood

The gardens looking towards the ruins of the Abbey at Hollyrood

The Edinburgh Castle lit up fabulously

The Edinburgh Castle lit up fabulously


People celebrating Scotland’s attempted (and eventually failed) succession with candles


The weapons in Edinburgh Castle’s great hall

Hero dog cemetery

Hero dog cemetery


The (incomplete) Edinburgh Monument


A beautiful day on Cockburn Street (I can't stop saying that name)

A beautiful day on Cockburn Street (I can’t stop saying that name)

The Salsbury Crag

The Salsbury Crag

The view from atop Arthur's Seat

The view from atop Arthur’s Seat

The valley (or Glen since this is Scotland) between Arthur's Seat and the Salsbury Crag

The valley (or Glen since this is Scotland) between Arthur’s Seat and the Salsbury Crag


England is much less welcoming.

England is much less welcoming.



Just an average Scottish person.

Just an average Scottish person.

Peace, you bastards.

The Worst Commercials Currently on TV (Part 2)

Hey Everybody! I’m not dead! I know that most of you were probably worried, and maybe some of you were hoping it to be true. I’ll even bet that some of you were a little disappointed that you didn’t get to do the job yourself. Well, I’m not dead, so I think we should all be relieved. That is, unless you were hoping I was dead- in which case, why are you even reading my blog? Man, you have some serious misplaced priorities.

The truth is that since October, I have been busy doing a shit load of writing, It’s just that none of that has been for this blog. I’ve been working on my novel: Awesomesquad! Assemble! The Novel! Which I am still working on and hope to get finished this year (which means that my blog posts will be sporadic until then). Also, I have been writing for two TV shows. One is called VR, and is currently on hiatus, and the other is called The Chosen Ones, and technically, that one isn’t on hiatus. It’s hard to explain the situation with that show. As it turns out, writing for a small production company isn’t the most reliable of writing jobs. You think TV shows would make that point more apparent.

Liz Lemon has made fools of us all.

Liz Lemon has made fools of us all.

But none of that is why I’m writing this today. Instead, I’d like to talk about TV commercials. As someone who has written  scripts for the part of TV that people actually want to pay attention to while surfing the internet, I imagine that writing a script for a commercial must be a pretty thankless job. You have to create a situation with dialogue that promotes a product without being too pushy about it, and have characters or the situation itself be memorable enough to stick in the viewer’s brains long enough for them to buy the product you’re trying to sell to them. And all of this has to be done in thirty seconds to a minute. That is about a page of script, max. That is not a lot of space to get that done.

On the very rare occasion that it’s successful in doing all that, people will raise it up as a testament to brilliant marketing. It could even become a meme, which is the best thing you as an advertiser could hope for. But when it’s bad, your commercial will be ridiculed. The heartless monsters lurking around the internet, who have no joy in their lives and must spread their misery onto everything they come into contact with like some horrible bad vibes plague, will pounce on the advertisement you worked so hard on creating and bludgeon it to death with their evil, hateful words.

Guess which of these two scenarios is about to happen now.

KFC- How do you KFC

For those of you who inexplicably don’t know what KFC is, it is a fried chicken restaurant chain. And for those same people, I have a series of questions about your bizarre up bringing that lead you to this blog before introducing you to the artery clogging deliciousness that is Kentucky Fried Chicken. For instance, are you from a county that the US hasn’t already culturally invaded? And which country is that? I’m totally asking out of curiosity, and not to see to it that we corrode your will against us by introducing you to our fattening cuisine.

Anyway, take a look at this KFC Commercial:

Here’s my problem with this commercial: as I mentioned earlier, everyone has heard of KFC, even if you haven’t eaten there (although, that is still difficult to imagine as an American, since they are fucking everywhere). If you’re making video blogs about your amazing culinary adventures, why in the extra crispy, batter dipped hell would you visit KFC once, let alone three times. How are there no more interesting restaurants where you live that you have to rely on a national chicken chain to fill three days’ video blogs? I can think of four restaurants in my town that would make for a better food blog, and my town is mainly populated by roaming gangs of possums and deer.

And of course the chicken tastes good. It wouldn’t be a national chain if it didn’t. But since it’s a national chain, that means that 99% of your viewers have also eaten there, and therefore are bored by your new-found amazement of KFC.  . There is absolutely no reason for you to mention a chain restaurant in your food blog. I’m not saying that as a writer that knows what good content looks like (even though I kind of am), I’m saying it as a potential viewer who has no interest in your love for fast food chicken strips. You’re not letting anyone in some unknown culinary gem, you’re just wasting everyone’s time and valuable internet space that could have been filled with niche porn and pictures of cats.

But the worst part about all of this is that these women aren’t alone. According to KFC commercials, there are a staggering number of people who have discovered KFC after the internet, blogging, and smartphones:

Did you watch that last one? The guy in it was genuinely amazed at the sorcery of KFC’s pot pies, as if it were impossible in any form of reality for a chicken restaurant to come up the idea to sell chicken pot pies. However, in another commercial, KFC claimed to have sold since the 1970’s. So according to KFC, their loyal fans are tech savvy enough to film and edit their own video blogs, yet so behind the times that they neither watch TV nor have ever heard of a KFC before. Or worse: They could be so uncreative that for them, KFC is an adventure. KFC is not an adventure, unless you consider high cholesterol an adventure. And that goes for you too, Dairy Queen.

Butterfinger Cups- Therapist

First of all, this has to be the worst marriage counselor ever. I’m pretty sure knowingly having a guy lurking around in your office in the middle of a couple’s therapy session breaches the patient-doctor confidentiality agreement, doctor. Secondly, How the hell is an impromptu three-way that the husband isn’t totally on board for supposed to help with their relationship? This couple has a serious problem: their major desires for their relationship aren’t matching up. Chocolate clearly wants something new, but Peanut butter is happy where he is. That’s going to take some work getting through, and surprising the Peanut butter with a two dude three-way isn’t exactly going to help solve the couple’s problems. In fact, it could make things worse. There is a serious lack of communication and compromise coming from both parties, and what they need more than having sex with a strange guy that their therapist set them up with is to actually find something new to do that they’ll both enjoy.
But let’s take a step back for a second. These are just characters in a commercial. Who cares about whether or not chocolate and peanut butter’s marriage is about to go to hell? They’re just characters. That’s right- they all are just characters, each one designed by Butterfinger’s add agents. So, why did they choose such a skeevy looking man to play Butterfinger? Seriously, look at the guy. He looks like the kind of person who would own a whole fleet of rape vans.

Maybe even an armada. Who knows?

Everything about a messy haired man in a track suit gives off a sex offender vibe.

The man is greasy looking, unkempt, obviously a pervert, and worst of all, a track suit enthusiast. Who would let this man join a threeway? Apparently the doctor thought it was a good idea, but I’ve already pointed out how shitty of a psychiatrist this schnitzel eating (His accent is German, because apparently Sigmund Freud is the only psychologist worth trusting) douche is. This makes me wonder if Butterfinger is secretly run by Scientologists (They think psychology is a pseudoscience. Try to keep up).

Geico and M&Ms

OK, I actually like this commercial, but sometimes you have to destroy the things you love, so here we go.

The main problem here is that, while yes, it’s a great strategy for two unrelated companies to work together on a commercial both financially and to create a memorable ad, it will make the consumers needlessly associate M&M’s with Geico. How is that supposed to help either demographic of people in search of either the product or service? Is some uninsured driver going to stop once he sees a package of M&Ms and realize the error of his ways? Is this going to make someone actually looking for an insurance quote buy M&M’s off of Amazon? Probably not, but that doesn’t mean that the connections they’ve forced upon us are any more necessary.
Also, if it wasn’t for the “Chocolate’s better with M” card, it would be difficult to tell what this commercial was selling. There are far more references to Geico commercials than there are to M&Ms, so you could be forgiven if that’s what you thought the commercial was trying to sell.

Gamefly- Be Amazing

If you pay attention, everything in that house, (and subsequently, everything that Griffin crashes into) are outdated, or at least not something that a man in his mid to late twenties would be interested in. So that must mean that everything that Griffin destroyed belongs to an older relative to either of those men, who now have to figure out a way to replace all of that crap because by the end of the commercial, Blake is attempting to fly back into the destroyed TV, not giving a single fuck about all the property he destroyed.
But there’s something even worse here: Griffin is trying to convince the guys to get a subscription to Gamefly, a videogame rental service, after destroying the TV. That TV is one of the bulky, Cathode ray tube Television sets, a type that has been obsolete for going over 10 years now. The particular TV set in the commercial is one with dials, which has been outdated since the 80s. If this really was one of those men’s house, then he clearly did not have enough money to update his 30+ year old television, let alone buy a game console that probably wouldn’t be compatible to that old ass TV anyway. So, instead of sitting there like a dumbass while a basketball player wrecked his house, one of those men should have said, “I would love to get a subscription to Gamefly, but It looks like all my money is going to be going to  fixing my house and buying a new TV that you just destroyed, you thoughtless prick.”

Old Spice- Meeting

The video starts off normally enough (relatively speaking), a dude with an obviously fake hair piece looks across the board-meeting table to his sexy female coworker. But then the commercial quickly turns into an old Simpson’s Treehouse of Horror episode, when the man’s hair climbs off his head begins to flirt with the woman. We can assume this because the woman giggles and writes down her number instead of shrieking in terror and setting the abomination on fire- you know, the reaction any sane person would do in that situation. If you see a woman react the way this woman did, then you to keep the fuck away from her, because she’s serial killer and she will absolutely gut you and add you to her collection of taxidermied  horrors.

I’m really not even sure what this commercial is all about, since I couldn’t see anything other than the manifestation of one of my darkest nightmares and I couldn’t hear anything beyond the screams of a million angry souls.

Dannon Greek Yogurt- Seeing John Stamos

Let’s just get the biggest issue out of the way: This is blatant false advertising. This yogurt does not turn the next person you see into John Stamos. I even tested this out to be sure. See, I have a certain item on my bucket list that requires John Stamos (I want to hatefully spit in his mouth), and although this technically wouldn’t be John Stamos, I figured it would be close enough for my liking. But no, every asshole that I looked at after eating Dannon’s stupid Greek yogurt still looked like their normal-ass selves. And there wasn’t even an asterisk anywere to indicate that it wasn’t possible. You win this round, John Stamos, but one day you’ll slip up. And on that day I’ll be there to spit in your mouth.

Some day, Stamos, some day...

Some day, Stamos, some day soon…

The other thing that really bothered me about this is the fact that if we are witnessing two couples, then we are witnessing two wives that find their husbands so unattractive that only magic yogurt can make them tolerable to look at. There is no reason they should react in such disgust; they’re married, they should have seen each other naked at least once by now. And no, the husband is not attractive, and he is a little bit on the creepy side, but those are observations that she should have made on the first date. She’s obviously not attracted to him, and he does seem like he’s be annoying as shit, so why didn’t they get a divorce years ago. Shit, these two make Chocolate and Peanut Butter from earlier look like soulmates. She’s going to need a lot more yogurt than that if she wants him to throw his dick in her, because unless she can come within the five seconds after penetration, Stamos is going to turn back into her farmer’s tan, buck toothed husband. That’ll make her pussy dry up faster than an ill prepared jogger on Mercury.

How great of timing did the husband have, by the way? If he would have come in fifteen seconds later, those women would have eaten each the yogurt while staring at each other. Remember, it’s the next person they see after they eat the yogurt that turns, and both women were ready to dig in when the husband interrupted in his awkward swimsuit. Were we about to witness two women kiss? OR two John Stamoses kiss? Was this all an elaborate trick by the one woman? I guess we’ll never know, thanks to the gross, twat swatting husband.

OK everyone, I’m done for now. Hopefully I’ll have something for you soon.


The American Douchebag’s Guide to America: …Iowa?

What the fuck, Iowa?! How the hell, in all the thousands of other, far more interesting, places I could have chosen, did I come up with fucking Iowa as my next place to visit in this series? Can anyone even find Iowa on a map anymore?

Is it the one that kind of looks like an oven mitt?

Is it the one that kind of looks like an oven mitt?

You know what, whatever. It’s fine. I’ve got some goddamn journalistic integrity, and I’m going to talk about Iowa because the media is afraid to, and fuck you if you think you’re going to stop me. Good luck with your time machine dickmite, I’ve already written and posted this shit. Boom!


So, Iowa is apparently a state in the Midwest. “America’s Heartland” if you will…. Believe that America’s heart pumps out in the middle of fucking nowhere.

The Territory know known as “Iowa” was originally controlled by a bunch of beret wearing, baguette eating douchebags (No, I’m not talking about Modernist painters). The French sold the territory, which back then was part of the larger Louisiana Territory, to The Spanish, or more commonly known as the  tanner French with a fetish for getting impaled by bulls.

In 1803, the territory was bought by the U.S. during the Louisiana Purchase, which didn’t make the Native Indians living on the land too thrilled. By the end of the Black Hawk War in 1832, The Americans were able to force all the natives out of the Iowa territory and subsequently name it after them in the native’s honor because, let’s face it, the settlers were total pricks to the Indians.

In 1846, Iowa was officially named a state under President James K. Polk, a real president, not just one I made up because I didn’t actually feel like looking up the answer. He did exist.

Now, the state is mostly known for its agriculture (despite agriculture being only a small part of its economy, falling far behind manufacturing somehow) and for the fact that World’s Greatest Punk’der, Ashton Kutcher is from there. So yep, those are pretty much the two things you really need to know about Modern day Iowa: tons of corn and the spawning place of Kelso from That 70’s Show.

This is what the gene pool in Iowa looks like.

This is what the gene pool in Iowa looks like.

Also, I guess State fairs are really big there too.

Initial Thoughts

What the shit, I have to cross a goddamn moat to get into Iowa? Is Iowa some kind of fortified Bastille of a state that must protect its borders at all cost? Oh wait, that’s the Mississippi River. That’s cool I guess…. What’s with all the fucking hills?! I thought this was supposed to be part of the great plains! You lied to me, Iowa, you lied to me.


I stayed at the majestic hotel named, “Paul’s Apartment.”  Paul, as you probably don’t remember, was one of the many friends I made when I terrorized Europe for a month. Paul is actually a New Jersey native, not that we should hold it against him (too much), and is currently attending Grad School in Ames. So as one can expect,  the accommodations were that of a student going for his Master’s Degree: The apartment was relatively small and always fully stocked with beer, I slept on the couch, and within a day, my shit was everywhere (figuratively. Unfortunately, my literal shit got everywhere on day 3).

There were a couple of things that I genuinely loved about his apartment. First, Paul lives in a gated community, so I was able to keep my car door unlocked without worry. Secondly, he was on the ground level, which made it exceptionally easy to get in and out of his apartment when the need arose. Then there was the community gym. It wasn’t a big gym- definitely not what I’m used to using, but it had enough equipment that I was able to get in solid workouts whenever I went to lift. As a part-time muscle head, that’s important to me, bro.

They also had really nice bathrooms in the gym area, which is good because when I was there, Paul’s toilet was broken, and also without toilet paper. That means that my end of night ritual (which involves me squeezing out a fudge log) meant a quick little jaunt to the gym. Let me tell you, however inconvenient walking for three minutes in the middle of a cold, windy night to give birth to a mud dragon in a different building sounds, it’s nice to know that once you taint that building with your unholy colon stink, you can just leave and not worry about having to explain yourself to anyone. Clearly, people with outhouses have the right idea.


Des Moines and Iowa State were pretty much the only two sites I could find. I’m fairly certain that their state fair was over by the time I got there. And even if it wasn’t it probably would have been somewhere far from where I was staying. I guess the University of Iowa could also be considered a site if I’m going to consider Iowa State one, but the Univeristy of Iowa doesn’t have Paul, and is therefore inferior.

So first, we have Iowa State University. It is a college, so they have things like a stadium:


I snuck into the stadium for this pic.

I snuck into the stadium for this pic.

A quad:


A Student Union that overlooks a lake:


And a Farmhouse Museum because, you know, Iowa:


They also have a crazy amount of statues of people scattered about the campus, so you know I got all artsy with those pics:


What the hell is with all the reading?

What the hell is with all the reading?

However, probably the weirdest thing about Iowa State is how secluded you feel walking around in parts:


I took this pic on a path right behind the Student Union. Literally right behind it. If you were to turn to the right, you would see a path that would lead up to its parking garage. But the thing is, I had no clue it was the union at the time.  The path I was on was so deserted, that I figured that I had wandered to some remote corner of the campus, not the center, and especially not less than two football fields away from the main part of Ames.

Then, there’s Des Moines. The main three sights in Des Moines (By which I mean, the three sights I saw, and therefore, the only ones worthy of being talked about) are The John and Mary PappaJohn Sculpture Park, East Villiage, and the State Building.

The John and Mary PappaJohn Sculpture Park, which unfortunately does NOT serve free pizza with every tour, is located only a couple of blocks west of downtown, right between Grand Avenue and Locust Street. Their sculptures range from the charming:

Sings "Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting!"

“Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting!”


To the bizarre:

I spent 20 damn minutes looking at this damn thing, and I couldn't find a single damn word on the list.

I spent 20 damn minutes looking at this damn thing, and I couldn’t find a single damn word on the list.


To the inadvertently sexual:

They say that isn't a boner, but then what is that all I see when I look at that statue.

They say that isn’t a boner, but then why is it that all I see when I look at that statue is a dick?

To full on, land of 1,000 horrors creepy:



Holy shit. Did I just stumble upon something from the novel "John Dies at the End?"

Holy shit. Did I just stumble upon something from the novel “John Dies at the End?”

This one is my favorite, and probably the creepiest. The spider one is pure horror.

This one is my favorite, and probably the creepiest. The spider one is pure horror.

On the other side of down town, and just across the river is Des Moines historic East Villiage. Over here you’ll find a series of shops and restaurants geared towards the younger population. There is an arcade bar that is pretty popular (it was closed when I was there), as well as several well-known hipstery clothing shops that also sold pot paraphernalia. Then there were these couple of headless, nude, department store mannequins  that oversaw the goings on of this section of town:


Even farther east is the Iowa Capitol building, where state legislation is written and world food prizes are awarded, apparently. As you can tell, the Capitol building is surprisingly extravagant for something in Iowa, a state pretty much only known for its corn, but then again, they must have had a lot of extra cash once the rest of America started sucking on the sweet corn syrup teat.


As you walk up to the capitol, you’ll notice a series of cannons, probably used to ward of pirates and lost French Settlers:


But if you go around to the side, you’ll find yet another sculpture garden, this time all centered around the state itself.

DSC00455 DSC00459 DSC00463 DSC00458

OK, I actually don't have a clue what this means.

OK, I actually don’t have a clue what this means.

So, all in all, Des Moines is actually a beautiful city, and small enough that a motivated person can walk around and explore in a day. Now, obviously there is more to explore in Des Moines than what I saw: Their Botanical Gardens, The Birthplace of John Wayne, The State of Iowa Historical Museum, which Paul and I happened to walk past twice, but didn’t even think to check out. There are other things you can do in Iowa too that you can find on your own. What am I, their tourism board?


I ate a shit ton of Buffalo Wild Wings while I was there. I think I’m addicted now. I’m getting the shakes just from thinking about their Parmesan Garlic wings.

I really didn’t eat a lot of food that would be considered “Iowan.” I had some barbeque for lunch one day, but apparently it was a Texas style barbeque. Damn you Texas. I ate at a Mexican Resturant, an Irish pub, and cooked dinner at Paul’s place, and I doubt anything I ate was considered classic Iowa cuisine. I’m sorry, I failed you all.

However, there is a food story that I would like to share with you, and it’s pretty hilarious and awful at the same time. On Tuesday morning, I decided that Panera sounded like a great place to have breakfast. It was a crisp, early autumn day, and I wanted a warm sandwich to keep me full and happy as I wondered around Iowa State University for the day. I cannot really remember what the sandwich was, it was hot and had eggs on it, that’s all I remember, but I do remember what kind of coffee I had with it. See, I always drink my normal, homemade, straight from the coffee pot, gussied up with sugar and flavored creamer, coffee. This week, however, I decided to splurge right the fuck out. Every day I had a Café Mocha, and I sucked on that sweet caffeinated nectar like I was being nursed at the bosom of the gods. Tuesday was no different, and I bought my coffee at Panera. I finished my sandwich and took my coffee with me as I drove back to Iowa State to see what there is to see.

I hadn’t been walking for long before I started to feel a rumbl’n in my intestines. I casually wrote this off as “coffee poops.”  For those of you who don’t drink coffee (freaks), coffee has the tendency to make you want to poop. I, a mere mortal, have no clue why, but it happens. I’m sure Google knows the answer. Anyway, I am able to suppress the poop, and usually only have to deal with a cramp until my innards calm back down. This is a process I am both familiar with and accepting of.

I ignored my bowels plea for help and I continued around Jack Thrice Stadium, up the hill to the Alumni center, down the street to the fitness complex, then across the street and through a maze of buildings to their quad, my stomach growling and cramping more with each step. By the time I took the pictures of their bell tower, My innards were demanding relief, and I decided to call it quits for the day and head back to my car. Unfortunately, my digestive tract was impatient, and I only just made it to the men’s room inside the food sciences building.  After I had finished the dark, unholy deed, I decided that I had had enough exploring for the day and I decided to go back to Paul’s apartment and recuperate.

I hurried away from the Food Sciences building and the evil stench I no doubt left in my evacuation’s wake, and made it to the parking lot my car was in. That’s when I saw Paul. He was just getting back to campus and asked if I could drive him to his building. I obliged, but I began to feel the dark unsettled rumble in my bowels once again. I dropped him off, drove through campus, got lost, but eventually found my way back to his apartment complex. As I was driving past the complex gym (the one with the working toilet and toilet paper) I decided that I was probably well enough to stop at his apartment and drop my camera off before I drive back.

I was wrong.

As soon as I stepped inside his apartment, my emergency evacuation valve was turned. I waddled into his bathroom (the one with a broken toilet and no toilet paper) and I pretty much exploded. The sudden pressure change both inside and outside my body caused my ears to pop. Basically it was just like this scene from Dumb and Dumber, only less fortunate and without an attractive redhead.

My Lloyd is Panera’s coffee.

My Lloyd is Panera’s coffee.


I pretty much just drank beer in Iowa. Sure I had a couple of Jack and Cokes, but beer is what I consumed the entire trip. I didn’t even think to look to find local beers (they’d probably be made out of fermented corn anyway) so I either got high quality craft beers that will get you drunk quick, or the kind of piss water that will really make you evaluate your life choices. You know, Like Natty Light.

Natural Light: If you drink us, it’s because you don’t know any better.

Natural Light: If you drink us, it’s because you don’t know any better.


Well, there was Paul, but he doesn’t really count since he’s from Jersey. There were a couple of really friendly baristas in a Des Moines coffee shop that gave us a map of the city, and while I didn’t talk to many people at Paul’s school outside of his circle of friends, everyone seemed to be relatively nice there, and Paul’s friends and coworkers were pretty cool as well. Good Job with the hospitality, Iowa. And no, that wasn’t sarcastic.

Overall Atmosphere

Honestly, Iowa has a slightly-more-country Central Ohio feel to it, like if all the more rural parts of the state grew like weeds and were strangling out Columbus and Ohio State of their precious sunlight and space. But on the bright side, it doesn’t take long to walk from one  interesting place to another. Not like Paris.

But they do have a lot of Sundials. What the hell is up with that, Iowa?


These are the two that I saw, but I bet I could find more.

These are the two that I saw, but I wasn’t hunting for sundials, so I’m sure there’s more.


That’s French for “Peace” motherfuckers.

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