in hell, these are men.

so be careful.

deceit is everything here.

trickery. lies. the fakeout.

you can be playing football and your whole offensive line will just let the fuckers run right thru on an all-out blitz and you’re going to eat it for a down

or two.

what can you do?

they know that the easiest thing to do is to let some motherfucker storm through like a bitch, but they don’t care.

you take a breather when you can down here.

let someone else pay for a minute, at least it’s not you.

people fight sometimes but it’s not really worth it.

you’d be surprised how peaceful it can be once you learn to ignore the shrieks and the terrible moans of suffering and the unbelievable sounds of bones being broken and crushed and twisted and bleached and rebuilt.

the men look like women and the women look like ugly women except for the poor who look like transvestites with big feet and adams apples and fake boobs and prom dresses.

the crowd stomped their feet and applauded when a she-she like they’re called stepped up to me in the sex palace, but i was just there to watch.

it was my day off from performing.

so i went back to work on my cotton candy and nodded to the damned

and kissed the hand

of the woman

who looked like a man

but was really a woman.

they play van haggar everywhere you go.

and everyone is wearing burberry.

love from montana + golden fiddle loves karisa (and who doesnt) + bunny will be in LA tonight!

another suprising thing about hell

is the laughter. at first i thought it was just like the middlemanager demons who were laughing, but no, everyone laughs from time to time.

i think the thing is, in order to truly suffer you need to have the dynamic of happiness n joy so when youre in pain its more of a contrast.

if people were just always miserable their misery would just end up being normal.

like if you swam in a cold pool for a while, it would eventually not feel so cold. but if youre in a hot tub and then jump in the pool its jarring.

so they let you laugh here, in fact they have plasma screen tvs all over the place and they make you look at them until you laugh at something.

lots of times the screens have websites and blogs cuz those can be pretty damn funny sometimes.

this morning i was shocked to see one of my favorite blogs, the Instapundit on one of the screens. people were crowded around the flat monitor and reading it and laughing to themselves and walking away slapping each other on the back.

when i finally made it close enough to read, i saw this: “April 14, 2005
HERE’S A LIST of members of Congress with relatives on the payroll. Seems like a bipartisan sport.”

i was all, what are you all laughing about? isnt having relatives on the payroll bipartisan?

one of the demons, said, dude look at the page he’s linking to.

and it was a list of senators and congresspeople who had paid their relatives out of their campaign fund.

and i was all, so?

and the demon slapped me and said fuck brain look at the people on that list – are Any of them giving their wife and one daughter a half million dollars over the last three years?

and sure enough they were right. the biggest payout on the list the professor linked to was Rep. Jerry Lewis from California who gave his wife “nearly $111,000” for being his congressional chief of staff.

but the rest of the list included family members getting paid pretty reasonable amounts ($1,000 a month to a congressman’s sister-in-law for bookkeeping, $3,000 over a year to another congressman’s nephew to be a driver, etc.)

in hell theres very little paper, so you can add shit in your head like a motherfucker.

we were adding the list the instapundit pointed to and broke it down by democrat and republican and yes that list seemed pretty bipartisan if you left out delay’s wife and daughter

but if you added the delay clan, and then added to the list a story the good professor doesnt link to for some reason, one that reports that dick cheney’s gay daughter mary was paid $81,000 last year. then it looks like, again, that it pays to be a republican, big time.

theres little that demons find funnier than right wing apologists, who have been very quiet about the majority leader, linking to an article that makes him look like the greedy bastard that he is.

if youre looking for bipartisanship, look no further than hell

where the population includes just as many DEMocrats as cONServatives.

defjon + ferdi + write hard + matt good

if youre good in Hell

and do something really spectacular that week like throw a virus into the internet that fucks up a bunch of computers, or cause a major pileup on a freeway, or cause a crazy tsunami, or help phil collins release a new cd, some of the arch devils will let you go to a raider game.

i was bad last week but not that bad.

two of the guys who got to go came back this morning and told us all how great it was.

i was super jealous cuz i love the raiders.

the best gift i ever got was a long time ago my old girlfriend got me Raiders / Broncos Monday Night tickets and she was so cool that she didnt even make me take her, she said i could take one of my housemates.

i love that girl.

theres lots of ways to make it back to Earth temporarilly. you can get a guest pass, or you can get a little assignment, like when i had to be a santa claus in the mall that one day.

but sometimes you can come back to Earth on a permanant basis, the only catch is you are either disfigured in one way or another or you get a lame job.

lots of famous people are actually Damned Souls who worked out a deal where they could spend their time on Earth as opposed to shoveling coal, like im doing today, in the Depths.

Alan Greenspan is a great example.

Alan wanted to do a good job on Earth but his punishment for being an asshole in his past life is being a total imbecile in this life.

Which is why he has lost trillions of dollars in the economy as the Fed Chairman.

Some might think that he would want to cripple the US economy, being that he is a demon and all, but no, just the reverse. Some hellions have been known to get a repreive if they do a good job on Earth despite their doomed status. Jack Nicholson is a great example. William S. Burroughs is another.

These are men who were damned, worked out a deal to spend some time on Earth and faught against the devil’s prodding to do evil, and they served mankind with goodness. Sure they lost a few battles and took a golf club to a windshield or murdered a woman, but for the most part they led decent lives and inspired others to follow suit.

I got an offer last night to come back to Earth as an AIDS baby, but i declined. I’ll wait for something better to come up, like be a Black Republican Senator or something slightly evil like that.

speaking of evil, i saw hitler at the gym on saturday.

i said, hi hitler.

he grumbled.

you’d think he’d be a big wig here, but he’s not, his assignment was to take over the world and he failed. he’s considered a failure. he hands out towels outside the sauna.

sorta ironic, but not really.

i kneed him in the nuts.

he couldnt do anything since he was chained to a rock.

ive been getting into a few fights down here.

its all good.

verbungle + i was mentioned in Sploid! + merci emmanuelle

the biggest problem with hell

is that theres no chicken exits you cant quit you cant stop you cant hang your self.

or shoot yourself.

or become anorexic

or racist or fat or shoot everyone in your school.

or jump into the la brea tar pits

or course.

you cant kill yourself.

you cant kill anyone else.

and you cant even cry because in hell everyone is looking at you waiting to laugh at you if you cry.

you just have to deal.

and if you deal they’ll figure something out the next day.

and something worse the day after.

but they’ll wait until the worst

to bust out the worst.

see, theyve been doing this way longer than you.

someone narced on me and said i was bitching, so they turned me into a monkey, gave me a guitar and made me take requests.

people were yelling out for skynyrd tunes and i could do that, when i wasnt a damn monkey.

then this crazy woman crawled up behind me and started singing something totally different than “gimme three steps” and people started booing, and i kept wanting to tell her to shut the hell up as i was trying to get adjusted to my paws and the terribly tuned kiddie guitar but all that came out was eeep eeep eeep.

some fat lady in the front row was laughing her ass off and i was thinking i could take a jump at her head, bounce off and maybe make it to the bottom of the left balcony, climb up there and make a quick getaway until i saw that i was chained to the stage.

so i let the bitch behind me sing and tried to play rhythm.

beatles!

dave matthews band!!

stairway!!!!

people in hell have no taste. or maybe they do. maybe to ease their pain they just try to bring more pain to those around them. pass the buck as it were.

kansas!!

i slapped the chick with my tail which stunned her and i tried to fingerpick the opening to “dust in the wind” and i had it working until a string broke from my wickedly long nails.

the drunkards loved it.

they really loved it when i took the guitar string and started to strangle the chick with it and pulled her hair with my tail and bounced around and scratched out her eyes and pissed on the floor.

but they stopped laughing when i shat and threw it at them.

they rushed the stage just as the curtain fell and the clown came out with a hose and firehosed me, the chick, and the trucker who had started wailing on me.

and strangely, that wasnt even the best act of the night.

the invisible hand + vodka pundit + danielle

after my exit interview

two guys took me into a tiny little room and tried to prove that i was gay.

you’re gay.

no im not.

yes you are.

no im not.

you were a poetry major.

i did it to be near girls.

you were good at poems.

i was good at everything.

gay guys are good at everything.

not knowing about sports.

what about costas?

costas was gay?

you tell us.

fellas, im not gay.

do you like art?

everyone likes art!

do you like quiche?

do you like quiche?

shut up and tell us you’re gay.

fine, youre gay.

did you go to a lot of foreign films?

just to impress the ladies

maybe he’s bi.

are you bi?

not even a little.

would you make out with a guy to get to have sex with the hottest chick in the world?

hmmmm, let me think. maybe.

ok youre gay.

making out doesnt make you gay.

yes it does.

well if you do it for like an hour, maybe.

even for five minutes.

then i guess im not gay cuz i havent even done it for 5 minutes.

4 minutes?

nope.

3 minutes?

is that an invite?

youre so gay.

you two ever go to Wendys?

of course.

theres a salad bar at Wendys, you two ever went up there and gave the man a few bucks to eat at the salad bar?

nope.

me neither. always wanted a burger of some sort, and i always wanted pussy whenever i got hard. never the salad bar. never dick.

theres a special place in Hell for the gays.

then i guess im not special.

got that right, sweetheart.

and then they kissed me.

flagrant + rabbit + pandar

after our orientation lunch break we had to take an exit interview

about our life.

how did you like your life?

shorter than i thought.

you lived to 109 didnt you?

no, not really.

you lied in your blog?

is everyone insane down here?

how many girls did you make love to?

15, 16. whatever the average was.

how many girls did you kiss?

25?

you dont remember?

all i can remember are major league baseball players’ careers and nba players’ names. and even thats a little fuzzy.

what was your favorite movie?

the blues brothers.

very interesting. why?

it had all the elements of a great movie: people broke into song, there were dance routines, car chases, scores of cop cars being wrecked, nazis being outwitted, comedy, drama, carrie fischer with a machine gun painting her nails, ray charles shooting a gun at a little kid, and a shot of wrigley field.

did you have any children?

nope.

sad about that?

nope.

why not

ahh, i halfassed at everything else in life, i probably woulda halfassed at that too.

what would you like to have accomplished that you didnt before you died?

i would have liked to have seen the Cubs win the world series.

what, are you a comedian?

pardon me?

what was your major in college?

poetry.

are you gay?

nope.

are you sure

yep.

hmmm, step this way.

the fine art of falling apart + zulekia + vortexia + nay

when i was in the orientation meeting

everyone had to stand up and introduce themselves.

hi, my name is tony. i was an undercover superhero in hollywood, california, earth, and now im here.

everyone booed.

down here that means hi.

it also means boo.

what were my hobbies?

i liked model planes, horticulture and reading the Bible.

they booed louder.

tony was also a very popular blogger.

this made them stop booing.

and slowly

they started to laugh.

hysterically.

one guy was crying he was laughing so much.

soon someone knocked at the door to see what was happening, someone told the guy and they pointed at me. then they both started laughing and patting each other on the back.

then i started laughing cuz it was pretty funny.

then everyone settled down.

then some lady chuckled.

then another lady gafawwed.

a dude snorted.

then everyone laughed again.

i laughed, farted, then laughed harder.

someone tried to ask me a question, but busted out laughing.

then everyone joined in again.

a fat guy turned blue and wheezed while catching his breath, his buddy opened his shirt a little and waved some air at him. he took out his asthma thing and blew some air in his lungs and stopped looking blue.

then he coughed.

then he went back to laughing.

then he ripped a little fart.

then everyone started laughing all over again.

happy birthday kiddo!

theres no internet in hell, just aol.

so its hard to keep up on the goings ons around the web, but this morning i was catching up with sara’s site and she said that her gentleman friend dan’s birthday was the other day. from the darkests depths may i wish my man dan a happy 44th. bottoms up, hippies!

sara shared with the world some of her juvenilia and i dug through my permanent record and found this old chestnut from my freshman year of college. its not as good as saras when she was twelve, but it was one of my most well-received stories, as i believe i got a b minus on it.

The Greatest Basketball Player Who Ever Lived

There was a boy who lived on a hill far away from everyone but there were trees near his home and the sun shined there nearly everyday. He had a dog and a cat and a cow and chickens and some pigs that he’d wake up some mornings and see turned into bacon for him to eat. He liked bacon. The trees grew oranges and the cow made milk and from some of the trees he made a basketball hoop so he could enjoy himself, but as the boy turned into a man he realised that he wanted other pleasure than that he got from his animal friends and his trees and sun and basketball so he went down the hill and met girls.

He liked girls because they smelled better than his animal friends and his basketball and some of the girls were even prettier than the sun in the morning and when those girls passed him by he’d try not to stare but as soon as they passed he’d look and watch, like he did the sun, as they’d sink below the horizon.

But the boy who was now a man had not been trained correctly, he soon discovered. To befriend these girls he had to act differently than he did with his animal friends, trees and basketball. You see with them, all he had to do was be kind to them, feed them, and tell them that he was glad that he knew them, and they’d grow and smile and rub up against him. He tried this with some of these girls and the results frustrated him. Some of the girls immediately were repulsed by him and would have nothing to do with him. Other girls were attracted to his sincerity and honesty but soon left him for “more challenging” men – like those in the armed forces. Our boy who was now a man was confused.

A friend of his told him that most girls liked to be told what to do – to be man handled – to be controled, ignored, and then suppressed. This sort of game-playing bored the man and he lost all interest in these nice smelling animals who called themselves women but acted like cats and were called girls.

So he went back up the hill with a new possession – a television.

This helped his situation a little bit – but not for long because on the television, quite frequently were pictures of very beautiful girls who’d grown up to be women. They had no smell but they certainly seemed pleasant enough and as out hero looked at his chickens and cows and trees he took his basketball outside and tried not to think of women but he was not successful.

That night he wondered if he’d ever find a girl who’d turned into a woman – and not a cat – who’d like for him to take her places and hug her and kiss her and not treat her like a pig who’d one day be his bacon – even though he liked bacon. The television told him yes but everything below the hill yelled no and he believed it. This is the story of the greated basketball player who ever lived.

xtraxyx + gibby’s game room + black sabbat plus the smiths = the blacksmiths !

to say that the subway system

in hell is complex is an understatement.

the devil runs a tight ship so you know that shits gonna be on time, but since the streets have no names you have to figure things out through landmarks.

tough trick when youre underneath them.

id just gotten my dick sucked real good by the two headed stewardesses at the sex palace and i towelled off, signed a few autographs and headed to Orientation Square where they said they had been waiting for me.

its quite unusal for someone to acclimate so quickly without any orientation, the woman said. its almost like you were meant for this place.

she had long black hair that went up into a beehive and splayed out like an explosion. she had firehouse red lipstick and wore a smart little tennis bracelette and nothing else so i just nodded and smiled and sat down in the chair that she offered me.

name

dumbass

game

sinner

what are you sorry for?

not learning how to bat left handed.

favorite job?

gas station attendent, beverly hills, california

true love?

ilka.

what do you wish to accomplish in the next six hundred and sixty six hours?

work out a lot, read genesis, and write one decent poem.

why did the chicken cross the road?

fear.

how to you take your coffee?

disquised as a screwdriver, no pulp.

last novel read?

white oleander.

isnt that a chick book?

porn has a lot of chicks in it too.

treacher + achewood + my headline/link suggestion made it on sploid!