Poor Dwight is spinning out of control

The Cracked one is upping the ante once again by posting shout out and attacks hoping to get a response. With the added bonus of Leisure Suit Larry and Inga adding their own little bon mots in the comments section. When someone emailed me the link I had to laugh.

It seems like every other post is about me or Michael Haz. It is really quite amusing. The juvenile shots in the comments are even stupider than you think they would be.

Remember. Radio Silence. But we won't forget when the time comes for a dirty shot. Just sayn'

Hell needs a new PA Announcer

Forcas: Will you be interviewing any new announcers my dread Lord.
Lucifer: I don't know. I want to watch American Idol. Most of those losers are gonna end up here soon. Especially that dick with the cowboy hat and the cop bitch. Plus that dried up grandmother Steven Tyler. He looks like my shriveled up Satan's cock.
Forcas: Well we have several people lined up for you to look at. We have this dude who played Al Capone and was in those shitty Cassavetes movies.  A couple of artists. And a big pop star.
Lucifer: What Keith Richards is here? No way. He is going to heaven. It's all set. The Big Guy uses him to test out all the new drugs that people are gonna abuse. He gets a free pass.
Forcas: No we have a famous female singer who was a star in the eighties.
Lucifer: WHAT! PAULA ADUBL IS HERE!
Forcas: No  it 's not her my dread lord.
Lucifer: HOLY SHIT IT"S GOTTA BE PAT BENATAR ! I LOVE THAT SLUTTY BITCH! 
Forcas: No my lord. It's is pop star and famous crack head Whitney Houston.
Whitney Houston: (slides down the stairwell to hell and tumbles at the feet of Satan and his right hand fallen angel Forcas she pops up and bleary eyed looks around) Where am I? Bobby! Bobby you out there? BOBBY WHERES MY CRACK AT!!!!!!!!!!!
Lucifer: No I ain't Bobby bitch. I am the Devil and you are here in Hell.
Whitney Houston:What! Why is I here in Hell? I am Whitney fuckin Houston you cracker motherfucker.
Lucifer: Listen you dizzy bitch. I ain't no cracker. I have a freaking red skin for crying out loud.
Whitney Houston: But whys is I here in hell? I was good to everybodies. I loved everybodies. Especially the childrens. The children's they is our future....

Lucifer: Really you dumb twat. What about your children's. You loved the pipe a lot more than them bitch. Plus you besmirched the good name of Bobby Brown. That kid is a saint. He was a church going good boy who got hooked up with your crack whore ass and went downhill. Everybody blames him because you were supposed to be sweet and all that shit but it was you all the time you dirty crack whore. Forcas get the mike
Forcas: Very well my lord.  Do you want here to sing?
Lucifer: Sure why not. She ain't coherent enough to read announcement so she might as well sing. Start singing bitch.
Whitney Houston: But why should I sing baby. You got any sugar for me. I need to flare up a littles to get in the mood.
Lucifer: I COMMAND YOU TO SING OR I WILL BURN YOU TO A CRISP IN THE FIREY PITS OF HELL!
Whitney Houston: And IIIIIIIIII, IIIIIIIII, Will  ALLLWAYYYSSS LOVE CRACK....(A trap door opens and the screeching crack head is dropped into the fiery pits of hell)
Lucifer: Well that's that. I hate bitches that have everything and throw it all away. They remind me of me. I mean I was the most beautiful of God's creations but I got too big for my britches and thought I didn't have to fear him. So he sent me to Hell where I have to hang out with Eleanor Roosevelt and River Fuckin' Phoenix. I mean really. Forcas.
Forcas: Yes my lord!
Lucifer: Get me that Ben Gazzara douche. I want to hear how he used to teabag Gena Rowlands while her husband skull fucked Peter Falk. That always cheers me up.

Whose that author?

The lunatic is all idée fixe, and whatever he comes across confirms his lunacy. You can tell him by the liberties he takes with common sense, by his flashes of inspiration, and by the fact that sooner or later he brings up the Templars.