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"The frightening power of Harvey's filthy lies makes me tremble like a Frenchman. I frequently wet myself in terror and... Oops... damn." - Glenn Reynolds

"Tact is a stranger to you. I like that." - Chris Muir - Day By Day

"The man is a FREAK and a WEIRDO!" - Vigilance Matters

"The nicest thing about having Harvey around is that he makes the raincoat flashers look suave." - Rocket Jones

"...a very, very sick person." - She Who Will Be Obeyed

"pervert of renown extraordinare" - Practical Penumbra

"He's a really nice guy even if he is a little bit weird and creepy sometimes." - Reflections in d minor

"Curmudgeonly Old Coot" - BigStick.US

"Mr. Bad Example" - Straight White Guy

"Shpxurnq!!1!" - The Bartender of Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon

"infamous den of rum, buggery, the lash, and pirate pickup lines" - ErosBlog




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Bad Money

  Friday, November 28, 2003




I've been wondering about Evil Glenn's penchant for murdering hobos for a while. Examine this photo of Evil Glenn's first hobo-murdering experience. That's not actually a hobo. That's a  clown dressed up to look like a hobo. Which makes me think that the whole hobo-murdering thing is due to some sort of transference of his hatred for something else.


At first I thought Evil Glenn just hated clowns. Which I can DEFINITELY understand. I mean, clowns are grown men who wear make-up and want to have little children sit on their laps. *shudder* Creepy!


But it turns out that Evil Glenn hates all manner of deranged circus folk. And the reason is simple. Evil Glenn's family is a bunch of circus freaks. And I can prove it.


Here's a picture of Evil Glenn carving up a roast puppy for Thanksgiving. I can't tell what breed. Possibly beagle. But this is just one closely cropped picture. Where's the rest of Evil Glenn's family? Well, I hacked into his image-hosting server, and found the rest of Glenn's holiday pictures.


Here are his mom & dad.


Here's his sister Pat, the bearded lady, who currently runs the Cirque de Blenderre.


His brothers Jim Bob & Bubba Joe


His other brother Flappy Tim


His sister, Wattled Wanda, who, judging by her thighs, might be the love child that Hillary Clinton gave up for adoption.


Tim's boy, Flappy Junior.


His cousins Sheep-Head Ted and Wooly Wally


His other cousin, Half-Bod Todd.


And even his nephew, Nipply Ned.


I imagine it's hard for Evil Glenn to keep that 1000-watt smile pasted on his face as serves slabs of Snoopy to his hideously deformed family, but he keeps his seething hatred in check until they are all safely out the door for another year.


Then it's HAMMER TIME! And heaven help any hobo that crosses his path.






posted by Harvey at 7:36:12 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Wednesday, November 26, 2003




So I was chatting with Blogless Brother Tom the other night, and it seems he's had another run-in with Evil Glenn. He'd been struggling with the set-up of his new Hackmaster 3000 Hi-Speed CD-ROM Cloning Machine...


Tom: YARRR! Shiver me timbers! Another blue screen o' death! And another half-hour wasted fiddling with this monstrosity! I'm already behind on that Hong Kong order as it is... Where did I put those instructions?


[flipping up eye-patch, revealing a good eye]


[RING... RING... RING...]


Tom: Crap! Now what? I hope it's not Gates whining about licensing fees again. $300 billion in the bank and that pussy keeps carping about a few crates of illicit knock-offs...


[reaching for the phone & knocking over a stack of CD's crudely hand-labeled "Micorsoft Windoos 2000"]


Tom: Hello?


Evil Glenn: Hey Cap'n Yo Ho. Nice eye patch. Did that parrot come with the outfit or did you steal him from a Monty Python sketch?


Tom: Blow me, Puppy Blender. I'll have you know that this is traditional ceremonial garb in my line of work, and... wait a minute... how did you know what I'm wearing?


Evil Glenn: Check the web cam behind ya, Long John.


Tom [spinning around and squinting at his computer]: What the...? How did you get control of my web cam, you commie lovin', Robot Dancing bastard?


Evil Glenn: Same way I hacked your Currency Freak brother - you clicked when you should've clacked. Gotta be careful opening attachments in those "free pr0n" e-mails.


Tom: I was researching my novel!


Evil Glenn: Whatever. *slurrrrp* - *spitooie!*


Tom: EWWWW! WHAT was that disgusting sound?


Evil Glenn: Just doing a little product development on my PuppyGainer 2000 Power Shake product. We're still having a little trouble getting the toenails out during the filtering process.


Tom: Well, dog-breath, I'd love to sit here being revolted all night, but a cloner's work is never done. I've to places to go, people to swindle, and copyrights to infringe. Here - enjoy my  cat's ass for a while.


[chucking web-cam into a nearby litter box]


Evil Glenn: How dare you resist my intrusive invasion of your privacy! I have every right to enter your home against your wishes at the time and method of my choosing! The Telemarketer's Guild shall hear of your insolence and you'll go as deaf as Rush Limbaugh from the cacauphonous din of unwanted insurance salesmen! You dirty, double-crossing, disrespectful dirt-bag!


Tom: Pirate!






posted by Harvey at 11:21:16 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Saturday, November 22, 2003




I guess I really shouldn't have published that filthy lie from by Blogless Brother Tom, because now he's on Evil Glenn's radar screen. The poor guy had just strapped on his eye patch for a relaxing evening of software piracy...


Tom: And now to grab another 25 gigabytes of copyrighted goodness from Kazaa...


[Ring... Ring... Ring]


Tom: Hello?


Evil Glenn: Hello, Blogless Brother Tom. My name is Glenn Reynolds, and I...


Tom: AAAAHHHHH! Puppy Blender!


Evil Glenn: Normally, yes, but today I'm calling on behalf of the Recording Industry Association of America. It seems that you've illegally downloaded several thousand copyrighted works over the last week, and I'm hereby informing you that the RIAA is going to sue you into oblivion.


Tom: So you DO work for Satan! But I thought you only worked in the hobo-murdering department?


Evil Glenn: Actually, I'm helping the Prince of Darkness with several of his projects in addition to the wanton slaughter of homeless ne'er-do-wells and the fanatical harrassment of people exercising their rights under the Fair Use Doctrine.


Tom: Like what?


Evil Glenn: Keeping the Cubs out of the World Series, script writing for the new season of "8 Simple Rules", and... certain... political assignments.


Tom: So YOU'RE the one who makes sure Ted Kennedy keeps getting re-elected!


Evil Glenn: Actually, that's Ba'al. My job is to keep Kucinich talking about mind-controlling space lasers & looking like a complete idiot.


Tom: But isn't that actually a GOOD thing?


Evil Glenn: As far as entertainment value, yes, but it also serves to make Howard Dean look reasonable, sane, and electable by comparison.


Dana: Did you say Howard Dean? I'll strangle you dead! RARR!


Evil Glenn: What the hell was that?


Tom: Oh, my wife's just having a few of the girls over for a quilting party. You can probably ignore that. Anyway, what do you want with me?


Evil Glenn: Well, unless you want to spend the next 20 years as Michael Jackson's love-monkey, you will immediately reformat your hard drive.


Tom: Reformat? But I'll lose everything! My music! My Photoshop! My vast collection of por... uh, my novel!


Evil Glenn: The law is the law. You just have to decide which you value more - your music or your rectal integrity.


Tom: All right, all right! Fine! You win. "format C:"


Evil Glenn: Wise choice. Now before you do the right thing, I have question...


Tom: *sniff* My Paris Hilton video clip... *sniff*... go ahead...


Evil Glenn: Are you happy with the service provided by your current long distance carrier?


Tom: What?


Evil Glenn: Sprint has many options that will allow you to...


Tom: AAAAAHHHHH! Telemarketer!


Evil Glenn: I told you I was helping Satan with some other projects. Now, have you reviewed your insurance needs lately?


Tom: You rotten, degenerate... hmmm... uh, I mean, I guess I could use a policy insure the cat against excessive hairballs or something. Why don't you hang up for a minute so I can dial up my ISP? I'll log into your web site & buy a few new policies.


Evil Glenn: Well, I'm glad to see that you're a reasonable man. You can forget about the lawsuit & keep your porn


Tom: Novel


Evil Glenn: Yeah... novel. By the way, would that "novel" of yours happen to have any penguins in it?


Tom: Penguins?


Evil Glenn: Never mind. I look forward to hearing from you.




Tom: Oh yeah. You'll hear from me all right. Now where did I put that one illegal download?... There it is! Now to adjust my eye-patch, fluff up the old parrot, and YO-HO-HO! YARRR!


Tom left something at Instapundit all right, but it wasn't an insurance contract.


Lesson learned: NEVER f*** with a pirate!




posted by Harvey at 10:40:47 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Friday, November 21, 2003




[scene: inside Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon]


Evil Glenn Voiceover: Are you sick of hanging out in the same sleazy bars, night after night, being tortured by lousy jokes from a talentless hack of an un-funny bartender?


Bartender:  Hey, what’s a fly’s best pick-up line?… Is this stool taken? HA!


Unamused Patron: You suck!


Bartender: Yeah, but not for free. Drop a little jingle in the tip jar, asshole.


Evil Glenn Voiceover: Pa-thetic! But now you can leave all that behind by coming to my bar, Blender's! (formerly Mudfish Billy's Virtual Tavern)


[Switch to interior of the dankest, darkest, foulest drinking establishment imaginable, as Evil Glenn steps into view]


Evil Glenn: Here at Blender's, we offer the finest drinks available in the blogosphere. We've got Mink Juleps, Poodleberry Daquiris, Terrier Toddies, and our specialty, the  Big Bucket o' Beagle - if you can drink the whole thing, it's free!


And don't forget our delicious assortment of tasty snacks - deep-fried Pomeranian Poppers, Bulldog Burgers, and Shih-Tzu-on-a-stick.


We also do our part to help the homeless here at Blender's. Every Friday, hobos get a special discount.


Evil Glenn (to disheveled customer): How's your Daschund Delight, sir?


Hobo: (munch munch) Pretty tasty, but it needs... something.


Evil Glenn: How about a little HAMMER SAUCE? [WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!]... NEVER complain about free food, you ungrateful bastard!


Anyway, we haven't forgotten about entertainment here at Blender's. Monday night is Hairy Man-Boob Wet T-shirt Night (sponsored by Angelweave). The furriest, naughtiest, nastiest male bosomage is on display for all to see. Look but don't touch! Remember - there is no sex in the Champale Cubicle!


Tuesday night we've got something to make the boys scream in lust and/or terror, as Fatty Sue peforms the always-erotic Dance of the Seven Bedsheets. WHOOO! That's HOT!


But we're also family friendly. Thursday night is kiddie's night, with readings from such classic fairy tales as "Sleeping Blender", "Blenderella", "Blenderstiltskin", and "Goldilocks and the Three Blended Puppies".


And, for you sophisticated types, every Saturday we present open mike poetry readings.


Yes, there’s something for everyone here at Blender’s. Remember to say the secret words “Hmmm. Heh. Indeed” for 50% off the regular cover charge.




posted by Harvey at 7:31:41 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Sunday, November 16, 2003


I got an e-mail from my Blogless Brother Tom reporting on a frightening experience he just had while listening to the radio. Coincidentally, it also fulfills the requirements of this week’s Alliance assignment...


I just heard this radio commercial.....

Hey kids!

Tired of the jocks pushing you around?
Are hobos kicking sand in your face?

Hi! I'm Evil Glenn Reynolds! I used to have the same problems, but I've developed a new product that makes them a thing of the past! Try my NEW Puppy Gainer 2000! The steroid-free way to bulk up fast, or for when you just need a quick energy boost before class.

AND when you send in 2 UPC labels from any size can of Puppy Gainer 2000 and add 3 easy payments of $19.95 (+ $6.66 shipping & handling), you get this great Hobo Hammer weight set, perfectly balanced for hobo-whackin’-action and chrome-plated for easy clean up. These 10 pound hammers are a great way to build your upper body FAST, and if you act now, I'll include a copy of my new workout tape "Hobo Hammering to the Oldies". Give me just 6 minutes a day, I'll have you whackin’ hobos like a pro in no time! 

You also get a blank contract for selling your soul to Satan, listing me as your sponsor(not valid in Hollywood, Las Vegas or Washington, D.C.).

Act now, and, for a limited time, I'll also include a “Penguin Love” poster, absolutely free!

So try my NEW Puppy Gainer 2000 today! In Vanilla, Chocolate Lab or new Poodleberry flavor...

...There might've been more, but I turned off the radio at that point. I really feel the need to take a shower, now. Type at you later.

Blogless Brother Tom

My poor innocent blogless brother has been horribly scarred by the experience, and now he gets the twitchies every time he hears a radio station breaking for commercial.

Just one more reason...


posted by Harvey at 9:46:42 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Friday, November 14, 2003


Brought to you tonight by Waring - When You Care Enough To Blend The Very Best.

New Blog Showcase voting reminder (oh, crap! I still need to do that!)

An abundance of personals ads for Evil Glenn.

An update for folks looking to join the Alliance

A new Filthy Lie Assignment: Write an ad/commercial featuring Evil Glenn as the celebrity spokesman.



posted by Harvey at 9:58:32 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Thursday, November 13, 2003




I walked into Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon the other night to take the edge off the work day, and saw a familiar face sitting at the bar.


Harv: Hi Trey. Don't see you in here often. What's up?


Trey: Oh, hi Harv. I've been having a rough day and I just came in to drown a few sorrows.


Harv: Mandatory diversity training getting you down again? Must be pretty bad if you're doing whiskey shots. I know you're usually more of a wine person.


Trey: Those pansy-ass diversity bigots really got me peeved, but that's not the big problem. What's troubling me is this horrifying picture. [sliding it over to me]


Harv: Oh my god! That filthy puppy-blender has gone too far this time! I'm going to hunt him down and kill him! This is obscene!


Trey: I usually don't condone gratuitous violence, but give him a groin kick for me.


Harv: Will do. By the way, why is Dana beating the crap out of Matt O'Blackfive in the corner over there?


Trey: I'm not sure. I know she's been kinda tense lately about the whole Howard Dean thing, but I don't know what set her off. All Matt said was something like "these are the worst cards I've ever seen" and Dana just started smashing beer mugs over his head. Maybe she misunderstood him?


Harv: Maybe. She's pretty fierce when she gets up a head of steam.


Trey: Yeah. But you really gotta love the way her nipples perk up when she's angry. God that's hot!


Harv: Tell me about it! I... hey, wait... I thought you were gay?


Trey: Yeah, but my inner lesbian gets the best of me sometimes.


Harv: Heh. With all the licking I do, sometimes I think I'm a lesbian myself. Anyway, I'm off to murder Evil Glenn.


Trey: Ok. Hey, Bartender! Another shot of whiskey! And how about a clean glass this time?


Dana: Did you say Howard Dean!?! I'll strangle you dead! RARRR!


Harv: Gotta go! I'll visit you in the hospital, Trey!


Trey: ACK! *gurgle*


So I went off in search of Evil Glenn, fully prepared to finish the Alliance's job once and for all. I don't usually murder non-hippies, but I just kept seeing that poor puppy's little head in my mind...


I went over to the bad part of the blogosphere to Mudfish Billie's Virtual Tavern, hoping to spot my quarry. As I walked through the doors, I immediately recognized the Dark Overlord of Cyberspace, sitting at the bar, nursing a puppy smoothie. I approached coolly...


Harv: Puppy Blender


Evil Glenn: Currency Freak.


Harv: How are you doing this fine last evening of your life?


Evil Glenn: So you've come to kill me?


Harv: In a fit of cold-blooded fury, yes.



I caressed the trigger of my Frank J. Memorial 1991.



Evil Glenn: Please do. I've got nothing left to live for, anyway.


Harv: Good! Because I'm going to give you such a shooting! DIE, you evil... Wait,... did you just say "please do"?


Evil Glenn: Yeah.



A wave of pity overcame me. I lowered the gun.



Harv: Well, not that I care, but what's the problem?


Evil Glenn: I thought I had it all: complete control of the blogosphere, a new MixMaster 3000, a great job as a law professor, loyal minions to help me murder hobos... but it all feels so... meaningless. I'm so empty inside...


Harv: So you can't get laid, then?


Evil Glenn: That's one way of putting it.


Harv: Come on, it can't be THAT bad. There must be SOMEONE out there who doesn't mind your Satan-worshiping & Robot Dancing.


Evil Glenn: If there is, I can't find her. Every woman I talk to runs away screaming.


Harv: Maybe if you wiped the puppy entrails off your chin, you could...


Evil Glenn: Don't start giving ME fashion tips! What is this? Queer Eye for the Straight Blogger?


Harv: That would be Trey's bit.


Evil Glenn: Who?


Harv: Never mind. Have you thought about maybe placing a personals ad?


Evil Glenn: A what?


Harv: A personals ad. You know, a brief description of your character and personality for placement in a newspaper to attract attention from members of the opposite sex?


Evil Glenn: Never heard of it.


Harv: You don't get out much, do you?


Evil Glenn: Does blogging count as "out"?


Harv: Look, it's easy, just decribe yourself in a short paragraph and add a little something about what you're looking for in a mate. I'll take notes.


Evil Glenn: I thought you came to kill me?


Harv: Getting you laid takes precedence here. I have my priorities.


Evil Glenn: Don't you EVER think about anything besides sex?


Harv: Sailor


Evil Glenn: Touché. Ok, take this down: "Single white pengo-sexual seeks...


Harv: Glenn...


Evil Glenn: WHAT?


Harv: Save the sicko beastiality crap for the second date. Right now let's just aim for a homo sapien


Evil Glenn: Hey! I'm strictly AC!


Harv: I said "sapien".


Evil Glenn: Oh... Sorry.... How about, "Sensitive, caring man seeks kind, considerate woman..."


Harv: Better... go on...


Evil Glenn: "... who enjoys long walks, holding hands, rainy nights by the fire..."


Harv: This is prime stuff...


Evil Glenn:"... and violently punching bloggers..."


Harv: Glenn...


Evil Glenn: WHAT?


Harv: Not everybody knows what a blogger is. They'll probably think it's a euphemism for anal sex.


Evil Glenn: Actually...


Harv: Again, second date. Try a little more subtlety.


Evil Glenn: "... and who's experienced enough to know that hind-sight is 20-20."


Harv: Better


Evil Glenn: "Come join me for a little puppy-smoo..."


Harv: Carefullll...


Evill Glenn: "puppy love. I hope that we'll find happiness together."


Harv: That was lovely *sniff*


Evil Glenn: Ok, now read that back.


Harv: "Sensitive, caring man seeks..." DIE, Puppy Blender!



Quickly I raised the gun, aimed carefully right between his damnable hobo-murdering eyes and...


Everything went black. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital next to Trey. Apparently the Evil Bartender, Mudfish Billie, had snuck up behind me while I was talking to Glenn and cold-cocked me before I could pull the trigger. Trey was recovering nicely from Dana's strangling, since Finn the Viking had distracted her with a naked  picture of Eminem before she could do any permanent damage.


As I lay there enjoying the morphine, I noticed a get-well card on the nightstand...




Hope you recover quickly. Worthy adversaries are hard to come by. Here's $20 to help cover your medical expenses.


By the way, thanks for the help with the personals ad. Because of you, I've finally found the woman of my dreams. Here's her picture. Ain't she something? Heh. Indeed.




"Miserable, stinking, degenerate bastard," I mumbled, eyes smarting from the photographic torture.


P.S Lawyer


Damn you Glenn Reynolds! This is NOT over! NOT BY A LONG SHOT!




posted by Harvey at 10:02:19 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Wednesday, November 12, 2003


Just a little something I overheard the Puppy Blender saying to Deep Cover Agent, Codename: Jen the other day. I liked it so much, I put it on the sidebar.

"The frightening power of Harvey's filthy lies makes me tremble like a Frenchman. I frequently wet myself in terror and...Oops... damn." - Glenn Reynolds

posted by Harvey at 3:37:43 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Saturday, November 08, 2003


Frizzen Sparks already completed his new Filthy Lie assignment for the Alliance. You don't even want to have fluids in the same room with you when you read his personals ad for Evil Glenn.

I just couldn't wait until Friday to share.


posted by Harvey at 3:15:55 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Friday, November 07, 2003


The Ode to Glenn Reynolds poetry round-up has some of the best writing I've ever seen. I'm offering some tiny samplings of my particular favorites, but I strongly urge you to check the whole collection in addition to reading the full version of these:



'Tis seldom that mere mortal man,
enrobed in blurple ermine
does drink as often as he can
a cup of blended vermin.




If only I
could summon nimble
words to pluck away thyne pups
before you siphon vitals from their wares.

A listless sigh escapes its
sound. It queries not a dogged
paw - a fading yelp.

Clouded sky erupts!
A lightning bolt askew
might frighten off a gnu
and separate your pup from you
(and leave you shaking sad and blue)
So true. So...true.

Still now. The blender whirs its final sound.
A rapture grasp'd in canine breath.
Escapes his sure intended death.

Physics Geek


A puppy a day
Never seems enough.
Oh, how I love the taste of Greyhounds;
Dachsunds are good, too.
Every canine has it benefits.
Two or three species are filling.
Others just taste good.
German Shepherds induce flatulence;
Labradors cause indigestion.
Each dog is a meal.
No dinner is complete without one.
No more puppy shakes?
Really, you can't be serious.
Eggs work for some people.
You might be one of them.
Not for me, though.
One dog a day is enough.
Large dogs or small ones.
Doesn't really matter.
Sipping is my life.


I left you more at the links. Be sure to check it out.


posted by Harvey at 11:19:18 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Wednesday, November 05, 2003




A darkened cave, an icy throne

The Instapundit sits alone

Murdered hobos at his feet

Blender full of doggie meat


Penguin porn, assorted, sits

Within the reach of outstretched mitts

In passions throes, he writhes and twitches

“Love to make them birds my bitches!”


Sated now, his monkey spanked,

His demons quelled, and Satan thanked

Toward blogosphere he turns his eyes

Which open wide in shocked surprise


Bear has changed the blog food chain

And Glenn on top does NOT remain

No more multi-counted links

So Instapundit’s rating sinks


“Once more a microbe!” Glenn does cry,

“How could this happen? Why, oh why?”

“My Instalanches have no power”

“weaker I grow now by the hour”


“I can no longer blogs oppress”

“And I can’t LIVE with this distress”

So finding then a sharpened knife

Despondent Glenn does take his life


Many miles away from there

Happy laughter fills the air

Free blogs frolic in the sun

Alliance tasks, at last, are done


Money blogger smirks and sits

Vict’ry caused by his geeky wits

Since Glenn is gone, he’ll never guess

The final blow was my DDoS



posted by Harvey at 10:59:23 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Tuesday, November 04, 2003




I was reading the Wisconsin State Journal recently, and my attention was drawn to a bit in the opinion section, calling for increased state regulation of pet breeders. Now, I'm a libertarian at heart, and I believe in regulation by reputation, rather than by legislation, so I disagreed with the premise of the piece. However, there was one sentence that caught my eye:


"They found more than 100 dogs living in their own feces, in cages intended for animals the size of a rabbit, unable to walk because their feet were deformed by the wire floors of their pens."


"Glenn! You bastard!" I thought to myself, and dialed his number.




Evil Glenn: I will crush you all like BUGS! I rule the blogosphere from my dank imperial cavern and none shall escape my foul clutches! You are doomed! DOOMED! I am your Lord and Master! Bow down before me! BWAHAHAHA!... then leave a message at the beep.



Harv: Damn you, Reynolds! I know what you've been doing! Blending isn't enough for you, is it? Now it's on to crippling & torture, isn't it? You cruel, heartless, subhuman degenerate!


Evil Glenn: That's lawyer to you, currency-freak. Sorry I couldn't get to the phone, but that damn hobo wouldn't stop squirming. What's your major malfunction this time?


Harv: I read all about your nefarious activities in the Wisconsin State Journal. You've got a lot to answer for, you brutal, savage...


Evil: Yo! Ease up, money-molester. I haven't set foot in your sorry state since the tiddlywink tournament. Heh. Naked Helen Thomas. Indeed!


Harv: EWWWW! Don't remind me. But that's beside the point. It says right here in the paper that everyone who attended the hearing on the proposed pet-dealer licensing law was in favor of it... with ONE exception. Gee... I wonder who that could be?


Evil Glenn: Wasn't me, crappy-cash-collector. Get yourself another scapegoat.


Harv: Cut the bullshit! Who else would be against saving puppies?


Evil Glenn: Well, you just got done saying YOU were against it. Geez! Don't you even read your own blog?


Harv: Not very often. It's kinda dull & repetitive - "graffiti currency" this, and "love note" that - Blah! Blah! Blah! What a bunch of crap! Who the hell would read that drivel? The only traffic I get is from people looking for XXX black peeing porn, and... DAMMIT! Would you please quit trying to change the subject?


Evil Glenn: Heh. Sorry. Couldn't resist.


Harv: Now answer my question! Why are you torturing little doggies?


Evil Glenn: Look, dollar-defacer, you've got the wrong guy. I may be a puppy-blending, hobo-murdering, Satan-worshiping, robot-dancing, communist-sympathizing, Frank J.-punching, white-supremacist, penguin-porn addict who makes inter-species sex films, but that doesn't make me a monster.


Harv: Lawyer


Evil Glenn: Touché. However, the fact is that when I blend puppies, I use the "liquefy" setting so that it's over with quickly. I just want a fast energy drink, I don't want the little sweet-meats to actually SUFFER... except maybe the Yorkies... nasty, ankle-biting, yipping little annoyances. They're like tiny, fuzzy Frenchmen.


Harv: Can't argue with you there.


Evil Glenn: Besides, there's hardly any money in the puppy-mill industry. Way too small-time for an important guy like me to piddle around with. I seek world domination, and I'm working on a scheme right now to bring the global economy to its knees. So until the profit margins on animal abuse increase significantly, I've got bigger fish to fry.


Harv: EWWWW! And I thought penguin porn was gross. You're sicker than Troy McClure!


Evil Glenn: Idiot! I said "fry", not f***!


Harv: Oh. Sorry. Anyway, what's this evil scheme of yours?


Evil Glenn: You'll find out. MUAHAHAHA!




And find out I did. When we got our last shipment of currency from the Federal Reserve, I saw this horrifying sight:


[too evil for words]


Evil Glenn my not be crippling helpless canines for profit, but he's still a threat to the American way of life and he must be stopped!




(hat tip to American Digest for the picture and Blogless Brother Tom for the news story)


posted by Harvey at 9:42:25 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Sunday, November 02, 2003


Another one of those "forwarded a million times" e-mails sent to me by my currently blogless Beloved Wife. She thinks we should try this. She's so naughty:


An older lady gets pulled over for speeding...

Older Woman: Is there a problem, Officer?

Officer: Ma'am, you were speeding.

Older Woman: Oh, I see.

Officer: Can I see your license please?

Older Woman: I'd give it to you but I don't have one.

Officer: Don't have one?

Older Woman: Lost it, 4 years ago for drunk driving.

Officer: I see...Can I see your vehicle registration papers please?

Older Woman: I can't do that.

Officer: Why not?

Older Woman: I stole this car.

Officer: Stole it?

Older Woman: Yes, and I killed and hacked up the owner.

Officer: You what?

Older Woman: His body parts are in plastic bags in the trunk if you want to see.

The Officer looks at the woman and slowly backs away to his car and

calls for back up. Within minutes 5 police cars circle the car. A senior

officer slowly approaches the car, clasping his half-drawn gun.

Officer 2: Ma'am, could you step out of your vehicle please!

The woman steps out of her vehicle.

Older woman: Is there a problem sir?

Officer 2: One of my officers told me that you have stolen this car and

murdered the owner.

Older Woman: Murdered the owner?

Officer 2: Yes, could you please open the trunk of your car, please?

The woman opens the trunk, revealing nothing but an empty trunk.

Officer 2: Is this your car, ma'am?

Older Woman: Yes, here are the registration papers. The officer is quite


Officer 2: One of my officers claims that you do not have a driving


The woman digs into her handbag and pulls out a clutch purse and hands

it to the officer.

The officer examines the license. He looks quite puzzled.

Officer 2: Thank you ma'am, one of my officers told me you didn't have a

license, that you stole this car, and that you murdered and hacked up

the owner.

Older Woman: Bet the liar told you I was speeding, too.



posted by Harvey at 1:14:52 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

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