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Saturday, 16 July 2005

This is a true story. Really!

One day, in a magical forest of gay and merry merryment, a young rabbit, a bunny rabit in fact was in search of a magical Fountain of Happiness. She searched far and wide, but still did not know where to look, until one day, she met a wise old owl.
"Oh, Mister Owl!" said the rabbit:"I am lost and searching for the Magical Fountain, could you tell me where it is?"
To which the owl replied "Gimme some and I'll tell you."
"What does that mean"
"I'll show you"
So our bunny gave him "some"(cough), and to her dismay, the owl flew away without saying a word once the "giving" was done.
So, she kept wandering and soon came to a swamp. She braved the bogs and mosquitos, until she came across a bullfrog and a fearie, to which she said "Oh Mister Frog! Mister Fearie! I have traveled far and wide looking for the magical fountain. Could you please tell me where it is!"
To which the frog replied"gimmie some and I'll tell you. Oh yeah, you have to let the fearie aphixiate you."
"Well, I'm not sure what that means," said the stupid, impressionable, bunny "but all right."
So the frog and the fearie had a wild time. but afterward they did the same as the owl and left as soon as they had finished.
Well as one can imagine, after this ordeal the bunny really did care that much about the fountain, and just wanted to go home, but she was more lost than ever. After days of wandering and escaping horny woodland creatures, with mixed results, she finally came across the Virgin Doe.
"Finally someone who won't sodomize me" said our bunny to herself. "Oh Miss Doe" pleaded our rabbit "I have traveled far and wide for so long, trying to escape the forest. Please, of please tell me the way out!"
To which the doe replied:"Lick my clit while I beat you and call you a whore!"
"What does that mean?"
"Uh, gimme some and I'll tell you."

Six weeks later our bunny rabbit died of AIDS pnemonia and a ripped vagina. The moral to this story:
Gimme some and I'll tell you.

By Macbeth at 5:18 AM KDT
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Friday, 24 June 2005
Theocracy: The Greatest Board Game Ever Played.
Originally from The Jolly Misanthrope, another pseudonym of myself.

This game is best played with four to eight of the open-minded and/or inebriated. First you must make the commandments. Every member of your party supplies a number of secretly written commandments whose number depends on the number of players(i.e. five players or more would get two votes each four would get five.) If there are two of the same commandments, both are scratched. This prevents conspiracy, but more importantly, logical commandments. Everybody has one veto vote. Wars have started from much less. It is always uplifting to see how quickly friendly banter turns to threats. If you ever make it past that debacle, one equally frustrating begins. You must decide upon deities. You may decide upon Monotheism(one god), Polytheism(plural gods), or an atheist dogma(just a philosophy). These are divided into five 'traits of the one god', 'gods' or 'virtues', respectively The voting system is the same except that four players get three votes, five players get two votes, more than five get one vote, and vetoes are determined by a collective vote. Confused yet? Tough. Next, you do the 'Five paths to Heaven/Nirvana/Other' Same voting system as the 'traits/gods/virtues'. Now, if you have made it past that without crying or persuading with violence, there is one last vote. The 'Name of the Religion'. so everyone casts one vote per, get gets one secret veto. If more than one name remains, all players get one more secret veto to decide. Now to add an extra level of frustration to this, there is a dice element. Everyone rolls a single, six-headed die and, depending on the number, gets a certain 'Clergy Power'. The powers as follows: 1-One extra veto 2-Sole vote vote Religion name 3-One veto free commandment vote 4-One veto free god/trait/virtue vote 5-One veto free path 6-One veto block And remember; "God created all, but the Church created God."-The Jolly Misanthrope



By Macbeth at 5:39 AM KDT
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Thursday, 2 June 2005
The Four Great Apologies
Unfortunately I cannot show my greatest creation yet, a comic book series called "The Theocrats", because I'm too goddamn poor to afford a scanner, and the person who offered to place them on his scanner hasn't called me in a while, so the world is deprived of that precious gem for the time being. Anyway I have a piece on how I was expelled from school on my last day. Enjoy, whores.

On the day of my high school graduation I was quite understandably excited. I hated my high school I hate Oklahoma and it's farce of an educational program. We had no calculus, no physics, no art, no drama, and five, count it, five, fucking five Ag classes. We could never discuss Impressionism or Surrealism, could never physically see and hear Hamlet or John Proctor lament, could never build an atom bomb for that matter, but by God we could castrate a pig and properly haul it's shit afterwords. And I was the only person who saw a problem with that.
Anyway, I was happy to be graduating. As we went through the Senior Memories (tm), The song Free Bird was playing. My pulse raced as I knew what would happen next. Half of my class sang along, half cried. Indignant as always yet this time not rendered impotent(" Tee-hee! he said 'impotent'!" Shut the fuck up I know what I said!), I decided upon a course of action which would not only embarrass the school board in retaliation for that goddamn sonic abomination, but would also bring praise from everyone else.
When my name was finally called upon to get my diploma, I took it, shook hands with the giving teacher, paused and smiled for the cameras, grabbed the microphone and said smoothly "your damn straight." Just like Shaft!
It was perfect. There was general laughter from the audience, and exceptional horror from the principal, who was at the very podium from which I took the microphone. I saw it as an oddly pleasant ending to a long, mind bogglingly tedious, and painfully dull story. Little would I know, a hell of an epilogue was coming up.
You see, graduation was not our last day of school. We did not get diplomas, but diploma holders. We had to go two days afterward to clean our locker and put up with some bureaucratic bullshitting. I think that the main reason though, for those two dead days is on account of people like me pulling things. I personally didn't't think that my infraction was serious, I mean honestly, I said "damn" during graduation, call the fucking FBI. I forgot to realize though, where I was. Oklahoma, the buckle of the Bible Belt, and the asshole of the universe. The best and brightest in Oklahoma leave. And my morally indignant principal, your classic bible beating hypocrite. When I came to school Monday, I was almost immediately sent to the office.
There is no place for that kind of stuff. It's not funny. No one thought so. I should feel very sorry for my actions. Furthermore, I would have to spend the last two days in ISS (in school suspension. Essentially "the hole") and write an apology letter to the Principal(he refers to himself in the third person), the school board, the graduating class, and my parents.
I did it without complaining. It was well written, well thought out, facetious, but sophisticated enough so those idiots wouldn't catch it. When I tried to turn it in, the dungeon master said I had to write four different letters. Bitch. So I did, here they are(digitally remastered when necessary. I'm too poor for a scanner.):



The first page is entitled Apology by Song and contains the lyrics to to the Beatles song 'Yesterday'. If you are unfamiliar with this song, turn off your computer and rob a music store for 'Abbey Road' right now.
The second page is entitled Apology by Poetry and contains an original poem entitled 'Sadness' and goes as follows:
I am sad,
I do bad,
I say word,
That can't be heard,
Word that's dirty,
Can't be purdy,
I am punished,
For my bad funished,
I am sad,
I do bad,
The third page is entitled Apology by Picture, and... well look.



The fourth page Apology by Well Thought Out Letter is my favorite, because my principal is illiterate, and I am hyper-literate, and this is a prime example:

Dear Mr. Principal/Mr. Graduating Class/Mr. school board/Mr. Parents
I sincerely hope that this letter of apology may to some small extent convey the disparagous, sorrowful, dark, and otherwise not good feelings which have arisen from my aggreigous, heinous, and profane assualy on your intrinsically decent and perpetually infallible being.
The evil in my soul which must, axiomatically have allowed this diabolical insult upon your greatness, has been the cause of constant and immeasurable shame and horror which is difficult to describe, yet true agony to bear.
Your merciful acceptance of my inadequate and base apology, however undeserved is the only tool from which I may be saved from my most deserved private hell. However the demon which infests my sick heart and sick soul may linger, I implore you with all the shame and wretchedness I(who has grand stores of either) may muster, to most pathetically urge ye take pity on that which is most piteous! Forgive me and I shall become a most wretched slave to your infinite goodness and glory.
Psyche,

The back page is the coup de gras:



Needless to say, my principal did not find the subtle humor in this. You would probably be surprised though, at the extent to which he did not find it funny.
When I came to school the very next day, I was taken to... The Superintendent's Office(tm). He took it the wrong way much as Ghengis Khan saw China as good real estate. He asked me if I was compelled to do this, he told me I was feeding off of it. He actually asked me if the ninja in my picture represented the principal or society in general. I was told that the Apologies would be sent to the police and the Department of Human Services. I was then promptly expelled from school and got my diploma some time later. That's all.

By Macbeth at 8:47 AM KDT
Tuesday, 31 May 2005
Intro
Hello, my name is not Macbeth. It is a psuedonym of myself which I project so you sick bastards don't stalk, rape, and/or kill me.
I started this site because cannot help but feel the need to endow my special and creative genius onto you(no matter how undeserving you murderer/rapist cretons are! Don't think I don't see you!), because I am just a decent and generous person. Scum.

By Macbeth at 6:02 AM KDT
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