No Need For an Online Journal

The following are entries from an online journal I had a long time ago. It has since been deleted, but these few entries somehow survived.

No Need For an Introduction - May 1, 2001

Hello, everyone. My name is ...not important. Let's just say it rhymes with "Orange."

* * *

Once, I had gone swimming, and a day later, my shorts were still wet. I wanted to dry them quickly, so I just tossed them in the microwave for a few minutes. Or hours. Same thing. Anyway, it would have worked just fine if I my house hadn't burned to the ground in the process. Oh well, it's not like I was using it or anything. I now live in a small cardboard box. It's got a lot of cool stuff, like outdoor plumbing, a cool dirt floor, and climate control. (It's nice very warm in the summer and very cold in the winter.) Up until yesterday, before that priest tore off the left wall to dry his windshield, it had a nice El Grecco painting. But, I like my new picture window just fine. It's really quite cozy. And by cozy, I mean crappy. But, you know how the saying goes: beggars can't look a gift horse in the mouth before they’re hatched, can they?

No Need For JFK - Aug. 15, 2001

Today I realized that it was probably wrong of me to assassinate John F. Kennedy.

I didn't mean for it to turn out like this. It's all my friend Bill's fault. See, Bill and I have been friends for a long time. We go all the way back to when Saturday Night Live was actually funny. And, I don't remember when it happened, or how it started, but one day Bill and I started joking about dressing up like Power Rangers and going to gay bars. Well, one day, he came up to me with this grin on his face, and his hands behind his back.

Well, I asked him what he had behind his back, and low and behold, he produced the Green and Red Ranger costumes. So, he some how convinced me to wear the green one and hit a few gay bars. "But Bill, I'm not gay, and this costume was designed for a six year old," I said, pointing at my exposed beer belly.

"I'm not gay either," he returned. "It's just the principle of the thing. Now stop complaining and listen. I think you should hold this bee's nest, just in case."

"In case of what?"

Bill walked into the nearest bar at that point, as the bees were stinging my eyeballs. The bar tender took one look at us and said, "What are those kids doing!? Oh dear God!"

As it turns out, Bill had made a mistake. It wasn't a bar tender, it was a nurse. And we weren't in a gay bar, but a children's hospital. The bees suddenly shot out of the nest and swarmed the immobile sick children in their beds. There was blood everywhere.

One of the children looked up and me with tears in his bee-stung eyes and said, "Why, Green Ranger, why? You were my - wheeze - hero..."

Wait a minute. That has nothing to do with JFK. Probably because I didn't assassinate him. Neither did Bill. What was I talking about again?

No Need For Vampires - Dec. 27, 2001

As you all know, Tuesday was Christmas. And as per the long running Christmas tradition in my house hold, I’ve been shooting down those damn dirty vampires for the past three days straight. My friends keep trying to tell me that vampires don’t exist. Well, tell that to the pointy-eared, fang toothed freak down at the gas station who tried to bite my neck. Boy, did I teach him a lesson. I invited him home for dinner, and then served him a nice, juicy steak. Heh, heh.

Hell, my friends are all probably vampires, and are just telling me that vampires don’t exist to keep me from shooting them. But I know better. Okay, so maybe I was wrong about the goblins. And the trolls. And the zombies, the giant birds, the ninjas, the sea monsters, the Frankensteins, the bats, the aliens, and yes, even the Monkey Overlord I was sure was living in my tree house. But this time I’d bet my life size porcelain Elvis that I’m right.

Freakin’ vampires. Your time is limited.