inicio mail me! sindicaci;ón

Will it scan?

I’ve just bought a scanner, and that means you will be seeing way too much of some of the following things:

1.) Half-completed scans of my terrified cat

2.) My bizarre and let’s be honest, childish drawings

3.) Flattened cock

Which one did you guess? If you guessed all three, you would be…wrong!

I will, of course, be pursuing all three of these options, but you will only be able to see my bizarre and childish sketches. Because, as logic dictates, attempted scans of my cat will go only to my girlfriend, while flattened cock scans will be sent, along with threatening notes quoting obscure bible verses, exclusively to TV’s MacGyver, Richard Dean Anderson.

macgyver flattened cock

So, here’s the kind of sketch I spent years practicing technique for:

rocketpunch lincoln

That’s right, it’s Abraham Lincoln with a steam powered robotic arm. I call him “Rocketpunch Lincoln.” I created a whole universe of drawings for Lincoln, involving a complicated back-story prior to his presidency that involved him heavily (as a cybernetically enhanced secret agent,) in the events of the Crimean War. These sketches included Karl Marx as a werewolf (creatively named Were-Marx,) as well as such memorable characters as The Shaolin Pope, a robot servant named The Gentlemen’s Companion and, of course, the obligatory Napolean Bonaparte Super-Mech. I was all set to start a comic of these fucking ridiculous concepts, when I noticed something:

rocketpunch fuckup

See, I just get too excited while drawing, stopping frequently to pump my fist in the air and to make explosion noises with my mouth, and sometimes forget that I was supposed to be drawing such trivial matters as say, another arm. This ultimately results in awkward, last minute adjustments that leave all of my pictures with absurdly detailed focus points, such as weapons or top hats, but huge, glaring errors, such as possibly broken limbs flailing haphazardly at hastily sketched pocketwatches.

It is a unique problem, shared only with me by five year old boys. Now, if you’ll excuse me…

KABOOOOOM PKOW PKOW PKROOOOSH BLAK BLAK *ah god, he got me with his awesome robot arm oh i’m dead shit* BEEEEOOOOOO BAGOOOOOOM!!!!

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Caution! Low flying ZINGERS!

What celebrity beef-bucket was recently spotted causing Chaos with his tragic car Crash?

phillipey

This stud-pastry was c-Ryan after the accident and probably wished he hadn’t gone for that last Phillipe at the local gas station, when his fuel tank was Breach-ed! As the burning fuel engulfed him, this Little Boy Blue up, taking most of a city block with him!

zingray

Paramedics were Nowhere to be found, and the hunky man-cake was pronounced dead on the scene, awash in a Crimson Tide of blood!

Talk about your Cruel Intentions!

WORLDS GREATEST

That’s the kind of shit you’re in for, guys. Take it! Take it all and then say my name, fuckers.

Seriously though, guys, I’m done. I really appreciate all the help some of you put forward, and though the numbers weren’t all we’d hoped for, my article was a hit with the staff and we’ll probably be doing more. I mostly just wanted a reason to post that crying eagle. It’s like they took my soul and turned it into a bird and then 9/11ed it.

Also, if we’re to be honest here, I was really just looking (as all writers secretly do,) for an excuse to write some zingers. It is, after all, the ultimate form of the written word.

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You got your classic nudes in my American tragedy…

So, I was expecting that because I posted a carefully worded, reasonable plea (read: shameless fucking begging) a decent amount of people would help me out in pushing that article.

I expected maybe 10% of the people that come through here daily to help me out…turns out that number was more along the lines of 1%.

I expected maybe the people I know personally to lend a hand…turns out even my girlfriend hasn’t read the article, much less helped me push it.

So, as a way of thanking all of you who did help out, here are the nudes I promised you:

don't look at me, bitch

OG camwhore

buncha nudes

Because you can’t spell classy without ‘dat “ass.”

Now, look away everybody who helped. Are they gone? Good, as a way of punishing the vast majority of you who didn’t do shit, this is yours:

buildings like digits

rasterized tragedy

you made this eagle cry

YEAH.

I WENT THERE.

I BET YOU FEEL BAD NOW, HUH? NOT ABOUT ME OR ANYTHING, BUT BAD IN MORE OF A GENERAL SENSE. I BET YOU’RE JUST SLIGHTLY LESS HAPPY, SO THERE.

That’s right. I 9/11-ed you. You got 9/11-ed.

As a way of further displaying my unhappiness, the next several posts will now be in the style of Entertainment Tonight. My article tanked and I probably won’t be doing anything else, so now you’re stuck with just that kind of crap for your entertainment news. I’m going to show you what you’re in for.

I fuckin’ hope you guys are ready for some zingers, because there’s a storm approaching, and behind it there are four pale riders whose names are death, and the zingers follow with them.

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