Tag Archives: war

Maxi Pain

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9

Sshhhh…

It is of my opinion that that fecker, Maxi, has went to great lengths to infiltrate and destroy K8Opia.  His latest attempt to freeze my communications with the Queen, K8 the Gr8, has been foiled.  After much interrogation, his slimy cronies have turned in his latest GPS location.  It turns out that Cane the Pain and his shrinking group of cohorts are plotting the destruction of K8Opia, and dare I say it, Cackaloo! 

This potentate can not be trusted.  One of our spies recently penetrated a so-called shelter for orphaned children.  It turns out that he put the boys in a sectioned off wing that genetically turns them into evil mutant soldiers, while the girls are put into sweat shops.  His deplorable actions do not stop there! 

I thought of nuking his arse and ended it, but that would be too quick for a vile character such as him.  Chemical warfare was put on the table, but we decided on Biological warfare.  So, we are asking all citizens of K8Opia to capture their flatus and bring it to the Queen’s palace.  By the time this transmission goes out, a giant fart bomb will be released over Maxi Cane and his chums current position.  Hopefully, he will suffer worse than his subjects have.

flatulence

Flyers, radios, and food will be dropped over MaxiLand immediately.  K8 the Gr8 is a kind and gracious queen.  The people of Maxiland will have a chance to defect or stay and create their own free nation.

All hail the Queen!

In MaxiLand another child goes hungry in a neighborhood just blocks away from one where Maxi is too full to eat another bite. Somewhere another citizen rises up against him only to be beaten to death in dark alleys. Somewhere another twelve-year-old is gunned down by Maxi’s army.

But somewhere, there have also always been people, like K8, who believe that this isn’t the way it was supposed to be – that things should be different. People who believe that while evil and suffering can be replaced with miracles and boundless dreams – a place where we’re not afraid to face down the greatest challenges in pursuit of the greater good; a place where, against all odds, we overcome.  K8Opia!

Join us to fight evil tyrants over the globe and throughout the universe, such as Maxi Laxi!

Rat Kerfuffle

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4

There Sam was in queue to vote, when he received a call from across the Rubicon.  His ears perked up and he started screeching in a duplex exchange.  The idioms used in the conversation were not consistent with the area in which he resides. 

After he stopped chatting, two mice behind him started ranting about him in an abusive squeaking tone.  The younger one reached out with his mitt and protruding snout and pecked on his back.  “This poor fecker must be insane, messing with a squirrel like me”, Sam thought, as he turned around discovered him lurking.

“Aye, what u be doin’ here?”

“I’m here to vote for that buzzard wantin’ to live in the big house.”

‘You ah ‘merkan?”

‘Born in a Maple on Arch street”, Sam squealed whilst turning around.

“Ye don’t sound like yer from here, and you got another country’s shirt on”, the field mouse screeched whilst poking with a pollen laden paw.

“You’re going to dare question my citizenship?”  Sam demands, as he raised to his hind legs.

“Yes, I am…”, the field mouse nervously answered.

“I forage for food all year long, only to have to give a third of it to the Gub’mint…I can wear or say whatever the feck I want”, he squealed, as he changed his posture to a fighting one.

At that moment, a muscular possum came running over with claws extracted.  “You boys r gonna have to settle down, or I’m gonna have ta kick ye out here”,, he cried, whilst wrapping his large paws around their necks.

Sam voted and got the feck out of there before he was ambushed by a gang of street mice.

Later that night tattered and bruised, he hitched a ride on the bumper of a taxi home.  He discovered the missus standing in the doorway of their maple home.  With paws tucked tightly in her house coat, she cried, “I told ya not to wear that shirt’”.

He shook his head and ran out into the alley shrouded in fresh fallen leaves and pleaded for a car to hit him.

He gave up and went inside to plot the extermination of that smutty rat from across the water, Maxi Cane! 

“That fucker is going down”, he cogitated whilst sending a cryptic troop movement message to k8 the Gr8!

Hot day in Camerico

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7

Today, I moseyed down to the local Wolly World, or as I like to call it, Camerico super store. They have everything there included really rude and obnoxious cashiers. I was over in the pet area getting a new collar for me mutt, when I heard a lady screaming at another lady. She was laughing as she hollered at the poor unsuspecting old woman that was just wanting assistance. I was watching the entire incident unfold, when the squawking woman turned to me with her hands on her hips and asked, “What are you looking at, white boy?”

The JD from three or four years ago would have just said nothing; I’m sorry, and walked away, but not now. Racial tensions in America are only worsening with every day of the presidential campaign for ’08. I am not a hateful person, but I am sure as heck not going to take crap from anyone just because of something my forefathers may or may not have done. The old me was ashamed of his name and the original man behind it. Now, I could care less if a person hates me because of my name or not. That, in and of itself, is a form of racism. To judge a person by his or her name is as bad as judging a person by their skin colour.

Mr. Obama has only made things worse. His message may be about change, but all that he has done is bring more Neo-Nazi nuts to the forefront. And, if he doesn’t win the democratic nomination, I’m afraid that African Americans everywhere will retaliate and start burning cities as they have done in the past. Yeah, that’s a good way to solve a problem. Scare the living shite out of the white man! :)

Anyway, back to the witch in the lawn & garden department.

“Who do you think you are screaming at?”

“Are you talkin’ ta me?”

“There was no reason for you to holler at her”, I exclaimed.

“Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?” She enquired, whilst walking towards me with her hands crossed across her broad chest.

“Hollering at old women is not part of your effing job”, I hollered.

“Boy….Jamar, Eddie, this cracker is running his mouth”, she screamed, as she waved for a couple of guys to come over.

“Oh, that’s very tribal of you”, I laughingly said whilst smiling.

“Whah…Are you saying….”

She came towards me as if she was going to hit me, when Jamar came running up and asked what the deal was. She told him I was trying to tell her how to do her job. Then, the manager came over and said, “If I catch you running your mouth to customers one more time, you’re fired”.

She continued to curse me, as I walked away, laughing.

Yet another reason to love Mexicans, Senoritas especially! :)

Jefferson Davis b&w