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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

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Bad Money

  Thursday, February 26, 2004


Google as I might, I couldn't find any information on awards that the Puppy Blender might have won, so I decided to call him and ask him directly. I cleverly disguised my true identity...

[ring... ring]

Evil Glenn: You are puny and weak! You will die a horrible bloody death at the hands of my foul minions! I will destroy all that you love! Bow down before your new master! MUAHAHAHAHA! This is Glenn, may I help you?

Harv: Yes, I'm from Evil Overlords Illustrated, and...

Evil Glenn: Wow! EOI! Hey, I LOVED your last swimsuit issue! How did you ever get Saddam Hussein into a Wicked Weasel Bikini? Talk about not safe for work!

Harv: Yes, well, shoehorns & a tub of Parkay can work miracles, but the reason I'm calling, Mr. Reynolds is that I'd like to interview you for our next issue. We're doing piece called "Cute Animals: America's Pestilence", and since your work with puppies is legendary, I wanted to get some quotes. You know - how their death-screams are like a Mozart concerto or some poetic crap like that.

Evil Glenn: More like Bach, but I take your meaning. Ask me anything, Mr... what did you say your name was?

Harv [reminding myself to give a fake name]: Harvey... DOH! Damn! Now my cover's blown!

Evil Glenn: I'm sorry, I was mixing up some Poodleberry punch. What was that?

Harv [thinking a little faster this time]: Uh, ORVEY! [ok, not MUCH faster]... and I said "oh man, this cover's your own". You won't have to share this issue's cover with anyone.

Evil Glenn: Orvey, huh?... That a Russian name?

Harv: Uh... Da.

Evil Glenn: Well, Orv, here's my story. I was born a poor black child...

Harv: Mr Reynolds...

Evil Glenn: WHAT?

Harv: This is for your fellow defilers of all that is good and pure, not some stupid Alliance Filthy Lie assignment. Save the BS for the Kerry sexual harrassment deposition.

Evil Glenn: Sorry. Force of habit. Lawyer, you know.

Harv: All too aware. Now let's get a little background on your past accomplishments, and...

Evil Glenn: When I was 12, I stuffed a French mime into a flaming trash barrel. Found out Marcel Marceau could talk after all. Or at least scream.

Harv: Mr. Reynolds...

Evil Glenn: WHAT? It's true!

Harv: Yes, but hardly evil. You got a Congressional Medal of Honor for that one, as I recall. Look, if you're not going to cooperate, I can get someone else. Castro's been bugging the crap out of me for weeks, just begging for some ink. Keeps going on and on about this great kitten salsa recipe he's worked up, and...

Evil Glenn:  Not Castro! He's the worst!

Harv: I thought you liked commies?

Evil Glenn: I do, but I'm more of a Mao man. Castro's such a tit by comparison. Little pussy's barely even got a dozen nukes, and... oops - wasn't supposed to mention that. This is off the record, right?

Harv: Totally. Anyway, let's get back on track here. What sort of evil awards have you won?

Evil Glenn: Well, there was that award from the Girl Scouts for selling the most cookies...

Harv: I said EVIL!

Evil Glenn: Ricin Mints & Ebola Delites.

Harv: Oh, you were with Hillary's troop. I stand corrected. What else?

Evil Glenn: Blackwell's Worst Dressed - Socks & Sandals Division. Birkenstocks & knee-high whites. You know the kind I mean? The ones with the frilly dingles hanging off the top?

Harv: My inner queer eye has never felt so violated. Go on.

Evil Glenn: There was that award I got for helping the homeless...

Harv: Gladys, get me Castro on line 2...

Evil Glenn: No! Wait! Let me finish! I got it for helping the homeless into the next life! Slice & Dice magazine even did a huge piece on my filleting technique!

Harv: Never mind, Gladys… Yeah, I remember that one. Heh. Those hobos looked like Picasso paintings. What a splatterfest! Intestines everywhere… and that "third eye" thing was a nice touch. Keep going.

Evil Glenn: The Trial Lawyers' Association Shyster of the Year Award for 12 years running.

Harv: Gladys, call Castro back…

Evil Glenn: WHAT? The TLA is the epitome of evil!

Harv: Yes, but there are certain limits to even our readership's depravity. I think we'd best not mention this one.

Evil Glenn: Ok, skip it. Can I at least mention that I won the Second Annual Montgomery Burns Award for Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Excellence?

Harv: Hmmm… and you received that for…?

Evil Glenn: Chernobyl didn't melt itself down, you know.

Harv: Ex-cellent.

Evil Glenn: Indeed. And there was my work at Jerry Lewis's last Muscular Dystrophy Association Telethon.

Harv: Thanks, Gladys. Hello?… Fidel?…

Evil Glenn: Geez, Orvey! You have the patience of an espressoed ferret! Look… one of my lesser-known hobbies is steamrollering cripples in parking lots just to hear the sound of the their wheelchair spokes breaking. Talk about MUSIC! If puppy screams are Bach, then that PING! PING! PING! is lovely, lovely Ludwig Van.

Harv: Ah, sweet Ultra-Violence. Anything else?

Evil Glenn: Yeah. My "Most Annoying Right-of-Center Blog of 2003" Award.

Harv: Ok, Glenn, that does it. I'm hanging up.

Evil Glenn: But WHY?

Harv: I'm sick of you trying to bullshit me like I'm some sort of OJ juror! EVERYONE knows that Misha got that award!

Evil Glenn: He STOLE that award! Do you have ANY idea how F****** annoying I am? With my "Hmmm" this, and my "Heh" that, and my "Indeed" every-damn-other-thing? I'm so irritating people break out in hives at the mere sight of my stupid sparking-antenna logo! It's not MY fault that my readers are too illiterate to read more than the three words I use! Hell, half of 'em send me hate mail for using a word with a second syllable! You should see my inbox! If I had a nickel for every "BIG WORD HARD MAKE BRAIN HURT" subject line, I'd be Bill freakin' Gates! DAMN that insolent puppy and his brilliantly intelligent readership! Damn him all to HELL! I should've blended him YEARS ago!

Harv: So… no award, then?


Harv: Glenn, two things…

Evil Glenn: DEAD! DEAD! DEAD!

Harv: First, we're having a phone conversation, and I'm a thousand miles away from you, thus just beyond arm's reach.

Evil Glenn: …dead?

Harv: Second… I LIED! I'm NOT Orvey of Evil Overlords Illustrated. I'm Harvey of Bad Money, and this IS a Filthy Lie assignment. BWAHAHAHAHAHA!

Evil Glenn: NOOOOO! MURDER! DEATH! KILL! TORTURE! MAYHEM! SLAUGHTER! DIE! DIE! D… wait a minute… does this mean I'm not going to make the cover of EOI?

Harv: Not as such, no.

Evil Glenn: … but Castro won't be on it either, right?

Harv: Well, no.

Evil Glenn: Eh. Ok. No problem, then. See you in hell, Currency Freak. [click]

Harv: What a cocky, pompous, overbearing asshole.


Harv: Hello?

Evil Glenn: LAWYER! MUAHAHAHAHA! [click]

Oh, you'll pay for that one, Glenn. You. Will. Pay.


posted by Harvey at 6:12:39 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Wednesday, February 18, 2004


While shopping for the Stephen King's latest installment in the Dark Tower series at (I REALLY hope he finishes the whole thing before he gets hit by another van), I came across a book entitled "Evil Mother Glenn's Nursery Rhymes". Curious, I used the "search inside" feature to find out what our vile nemesis has been scribbling. Here's a sample of what I found:

Reynolds had a little lamb
Its fleece was black as night
Killing hobos with its fangs...
Uh, something here's not right.

Mary, Mary quite contrary
How does your garden grow
With hobo bods
Beneath the sod
Cuz I'm Glenn's bitch, you know.

Hey diddle diddle
The cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the moon
The little dog laughed to see such sport
And was promptly blended for his insolence.

Old Glenn Cole was an evil old soul
and a viscious puppy blender was he
Did a quick robot dance
Put a penguin in his pants
And girly-punched Frank J with glee

Old Glenn Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To get a glass of warm puppy goo
But when he got there
The cupboard was bare
So he murdered a hobo in lieu

Little Glenn Horner
Sat in a corner
Eating his puppy pie
He stuck in his thumb
It wasn't a plumb
He'd skewered the poor doggy's eye!

Peter, Peter, puppy eater
Mixed his dog shakes with a beater
"Glenn may like to use a blender,
But my way makes them much more tender"

Baa baa Instapundit have you any pups?
Yes sir, yes sir, three big cups.
One is for breakfast, one is for lunch
One is for the afterglow when Frank J. I punch.

Glenn Reynolds is a sick, sick man.


posted by Harvey at 10:44:20 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Friday, February 13, 2004


I had just settled in for a quiet evening of blogging (or porn surfing, depending on which room Beloved Wife was in), when the phone rang...

Harv: Hello?

Evil Glenn: Have you reviewed your insurance needs lately?

Harv: AAAHHHH! Telemarketer!

Evil Glenn: Heh. Relax, currency freak, I'm just messin' with ya. It's just me, Evil Glenn:

Harv: Oh. That's not NEARLY as horrifying. Whaddya want, Puppy Blender?

Evil Glenn: I just called to gloat. I see the Alliance still hasn't succeeded in toppling me from my perch high in the unreachable stratosphere of the Ecosystem. You're SO pathetic.

Harv: And I see that you've been bumped down to #3 by a couple of no-talent script-kiddie hacker-wanna-bes.

Evil Glenn: Yes, *ahem*, well, you see, it's all part of my latest plan to... I mean... uh... I'm going to... um... YOU SHUT UP!

Harv: Anyway, why are you interrupting my mastur... uh, masterful blogging session?

Evil Glenn: Since the Alliance is powerless to stop me, I wanted to rub your nose in the fact that I'll soon be filthy rich.

Harv: By what foul means this time?

Evil Glenn: My Cayman Islands-based money-laundering front company, Evil Glenn Industries, recently purchased a Hollywood movie studio, as well as the rights to some VERY big name movies. I'm going to crank out some re-makes and before you know it, I'll be rolling around naked in piles of hundred dollar bills with my triple-action inflatable love doll, all greasy with Wesson oil, and...

Harv: EWWWW! Can we just get to the point before my connection to times out?

Evil Glenn: Yes, of course. AHEM...Ever since Thomas Edison first invented the movie projector, people
have sought the soul-stirring entertainment that only movies can provide. The first movies, although silent, were...


Evil Glenn: Fine. The Wizard of Oz.

Harv: Oh no. Toto!

Evil Glenn: Electric blenders hadn't been invented yet, but they DID have egg beaters back then. That little dog ain't gonna make it out of the basket this time. Heh.

Harv: You have no shame.

Evil Glenn: And did you ever notice that the Scarecrow looks like a hobo? I tell ya, the Tin Woodsman's ax is gonna get a pretty good workout.

Harv: You probably don't even have the decency to leave the flying monkeys alone.

Evil Glenn: Actually, I'm leaving those in. They make your Fearless Leader Frank J. wet himself in terror. Heh. Indeed.

Harv: I'll have to warn him not to see that one. What else ya got?

Evil Glenn: The Godfather. Man, talk about an offer you can't refuse.

Harv: Yeah, I saw some publicity stills from that one. Mookie still cries herself to sleep at night.

Evil Glenn: Ah, the sweet suffering of innocent children. How like the finest wine is its intoxication... Which is why when I remake 101 Dalmations, Cruella's coat-making scene...

Harv: Dear God!

Evil Glenn: Oh, I can hear them now, "Mommy! Mommy! Make the bad woman put down the skinning knife!" MUAHAHAHAHAHA!

Harv: Dude, you need help.

Evil Glenn: Help? Funny you should mention that. I'm re-doing that one, too. Except this time the Beatles will be playing selections from... Boxcar Willie's King of the Hoboes!


Evil Glenn: Hold on tight, the torture's just starting. I'm also doing Fellowship of the Ring.

Harv: No puppies in that one, how bad can it be?

Evil Glenn: With Jar-Jar Binks as Frodo? "Meesa no wansa carry da ring mista Gandalf! Sauron big nasty bad! Make Jar-Jar shakin' wit' da scared!"

Harv: You monster!

Evil Glenn: You want monsters? How about Monsters, Inc.? Little Boo gets blended to goo! Whirrrrrr! Chop! Chop! Chop! AIEEEEEE! Save me, Sully! *gurgle*

Harv: I can't take any more!

Evil Glenn: More? As in Michael Moore? Guess who plays the hard-lovin' hillbilly in the new Deliverance? "You shore gotta pretty mouf. I'm gonna make you squeal like a fictitious pig!"

Harv: You vile, despicable, inhuman beast!

Evil Glenn: Oh, that reminds me – Beauty and the Beast. Lumiere accidentally sets the place on fire, and everyone dies screaming in unimaginable agony. Except for Chip.

Harv: You're actually gonna let Chip live?

Evil Glenn: Sort of. In my version, the character's name is Shatter, if that tells you anything.

Harv: Geez, Glenn, have you no heart at all?

Evil Glenn: I do have a sensitive side, so I'm also doing Yentl

Harv: Barbara Streisand's anti-Semitic lesbian atrocity? Hey, maybe you're not so bad after all. How ya gonna fix this one? Does she fall overboard & get eaten by sharks?

Evil Glenn: Harvey, Harvey… You've forgotten… I'm EVIL! And to prove it, I'm going to re-make Yentl… EXACTLY THE SAME AS THE ORIGINAL VERSION! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!

Harv: You're a bad, bad man, Glenn.

Evil Glenn: Heh. Indeed. Say, Harv…

Harv: Yeah?

Evil Glenn: Internet connection timed out yet?

Harv: What the? NOOOOOOO! My precious porn! You filthy, malevolent, subhuman bastard!

Evil Glenn: Lawyer [click]

Well, I hope you guys are happy. I got your stupid news on Glenn's movie remakes. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go re-connect & try to find that site… let's see… Google… big... ass... firm… what the?… Microsoft? Wal-Mart? GE?… DAMMIT! What was…

Hey! Are you still here? Cripes! Would you let a guy have his privacy? I mean…


Oh yeah… that.


posted by Harvey at 8:28:33 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Friday, February 06, 2004


I swear, Glenn Reynolds's computer has to be THE easiest hack in cyberspace. It's like he's never even HEARD of firewalls! Then again, he's more of a dork than a geek, so I guess I shouldn't expect much in the way of techno-cunning.

Popping open his "favorites" folder, I found the following sites bookmarked:…hobos.html

I was repulsed, but somehow not surprised, at this list. However, I soon discovered a link that indicated a depth of depravity that I had not heretofore expected. I knew Glenn had some strange fetishes, but to enjoy this sort of weird, sick, disgusting, depraved foulness?

I guess he's just trying to give Divine a run for his money in the "filthiest person alive" contest.



posted by Harvey at 7:43:12 PM  permalink    Crappy Broken Radio Comments (do not use) [] trackback []  HOME

  Monday, February 02, 2004


I don't have any children, yet it was for the future of children everywhere that I joined the Alliance. I just couldn't stand the thought of a world where the blogging despot, Glenn Reynolds ruled over everything.

Do you think I'm some sort of tinfoil-hat-wearing crackpot? Are you saying to yourself, "he's only one man. Sure, he's got a popular blog, but does that necessarily make him evil?" Then I ask you: Do you not understand the nature of power to create the insatiable craving for more control? Today Glenn might be only sitting atop the Ecosystem like Sauron's eye above the dark tower of Mordor, but realize, please, that this is not his final plan. He seeks power beyond cyberspace. His urge to conquest will not be sated until America herself is a bleak and desolate wasteland, where hobo bodies litter the streets like old newspapers, puppies tip at the brink of extinction from overblending, the Robot is the only dance allowed to be publicly performed, and the maddening strains of Copacabana fill the air from loudspeakers under every street lamp. This future I will not countenance. And so, I fight.

Having failed in my every attempt to stop Evil Glenn's mad quest for power in this when, I decided that the only reasonable course of action would be to travel to the past to stop Evil Glenn while he was but a lad, and his crimes against humanity still lay, preventably, in his future.

But where to obtain a time machine?

I asked the smartest man in the blogosphere, Stephen Den Beste of USS Clueless. Unfortunately, his fingers had become wedged in his keyboard during a tragic blogging accident, and he was physically unable to help me with the construction of the device.

Next I sought the help of Lynn of Reflections in d minor, the smartest woman in the blogosphere. No joy was to be found there, since she was still in the hospital recovering from a brutal attack by Pecks, the world's angriest bluebird.

Saddened, but not yet without hope, I appeared at the doorstep of Alliance member Physics Geek, reasoning that anyone who could brew the world's tastiest beer must surely have the wisdom to construct a time machine...

Geek: Come on in, Harv. What can I do for you?

Harv: Well, I have an insane-sounding project I need your help with, and since you're the smartest non-physically-incapacitated person I know, I was hoping you could help me.

Geek: No problem. Insanity is my specialty. Whaddya need? Perpetual motion machine? Faster-than-light spaceship? A viable democratic presidential candidate?

Harv: Time machine, actually.

Geek: Good. I was hoping you wouldn't ask for that last one. I was only kidding about it being possible. Come on down to the basement, I've got one there.

Harv: You have a working time machine?

Geek: Are you serious? Of COURSE I have one. I built it right after that time Mrs. Geek walked in on my while I was surfing for porn. Saved me a week of sleeping on the couch, it did. So, what do you need it for?

Harv [following Geek into the basement]: I'm going to go back in time and stop Glenn Reynolds from turning evil.

Geek: Oh... Maybe we should work on that viable democratic presidential candidate instead...

Harv: Don't worry, I have a plan. I just need you to get me to the right year.

Geek: Ok. But be careful. Messing around with events in the past can cause... unintended consequences.

Harv: Yeah, yeah. Butterfly effect, blah, blah, blah. Just get me where... er, when I need to go.

Geek: Ok. Here's the auto-return remote control device. Now, just step into the travel chamber...

There was a blinding flash of light, and a second later I found myself standing on the front lawn of the Reynolds homestead, where a young, and at this point merely naughty, Glenn frolicked on the grass with his puppy...

Naughty Glenn: All right Hobo, now go fetch the stick!... Good boy!... Hey! Stop licking me! Stop it! How'd you like it if I started licking you? [lick, lick]...Hmmm... That was tasty! And I feel somewhat energized... I wonder what would happen if I consumed the whole animal? He's too big to eat... Maybe if I stuffed him into mommy's blender I could drink him! Heh. Hmmm. Indeed.

Harv: NOOOOOO! Stop, young Glenn! You mustn't do that!

Naughty Glenn: Huh? Hey! Aren't you Michael Gross, the dad from Family Ties?

Harv: What? No! I'm... uh, I mean yes, yes I am. And as a beloved and influential father-figure, I command you NOT to blend that puppy.

Naughty Glenn: Well, ok. I'll just play with him in a naively charming and child-like way instead. Thanks for the advice.

Harv: Yeah… uh... no problem… Well, that was easy.

I pressed the button and found myself back in Physics Geek's basement…

Harv [stepping out of time machine]: That was remarkably simple. I should've done that a LONG time ago. Wait… I did… Heh, time travel is really confusing. Anyway, thanks for your help, Geek.

Frank G.: Geek? My name's not Geek. It's Frank G. Why did you call me that, Frank H.?

Harv: Frank H.? No, my name is Harv. Why did you call me Frank H.? Look… It says right here on my driver's license… Frank H. Olson, and… HUH?... Why the HELL is my name Frank H.?

Frank G.: Du-UH! The same reason ALL men are named Frank plus an initial. Frank J., the fearsome, despotic overlord (may his name be praised) of the United States of Frank A., has decreed that all men be named as such.

Frank H.: This is insane! Let me borrow your computer.

Frank G.: Sure. Over here.

Quickly, I Googled (actually Frankoogled) up Frank J.'s home page. It had changed a little from the way I remembered it, as it was now titled "IFAO: Unfair. Unbalanced. Unmedicated. Under my power. Unable to disobey on fear of death." As my jaw dropped and my eyes bulged, I read the first few entries with a growing mixture of disbelief and horror:

"I really hate capitalism. Fascism is much better. Mussolini rocked. Now I will dance the Macarena. HEYYYYY Macarena! Hah. Hrmmm. Indubitably."

"I just murdered a circus clown. You should have heard him squeal like a pig as the knife went in. Hah. Hrmmm. Indubitably."

"At 10pm tonight, I will go on TV before the entire nation, where you, my fearful and cowering subjects, will watch, mortified, as I drown a puppy. Bark bark, gurgle gurgle. Hah. Hrmmm. Indubitably."

Frank H.: Holy Hatless Hannah's Hershey Bar! WHAT HAVE I DONE? Geek… I mean Frank G…. you've got to send me back in time again! I made a terrible mistake, messing in God's domain. I HAVE put things back the way they were!

Frank G.: No problem, the transference chamber's still warm. Just step on in.

Frank H.: Good. First, though, I really think I need a beer to calm my nerves…

Frank G.: Beer? What is this... "beer"... you speak of?

Frank H.: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Quick! Push the button!

Frank G.: Don't you mean "quickly"?

Frank H.: WHAT?

Frank G.: Just because you're in a hurry doesn't mean you can't make time for proper grammar.

Frank H.: PUSH THE F****** BUTTON!

Frank G.: What's the magic word?

Frank H. [a hair's breadth from murder and enunciating between grinding incisors]: Please.

Frank G.: Much better! A polite and grammatically-correct society is a happy society. Rule #21095 of Frank J.'s Super Happy Lucky Fun Little Red Book Of How Not To Be Summarily Executed By The Secret Police. Bon Voyage, Frank H.!

Another blinding flash of light found me back on the front lawn of the Reynolds homestead just a few short minutes after I'd left the last time. Naughty (now actually NICE) Glenn was playing with his puppy, Hobo, in a naively charming and child-like way.

Nice Glenn: Gee, Hobo, you're the bestest puppy ever! I'm sorry I thought about blending you. From now on, I'm going to be the nicest boy in the world, and I promise never to mistreat you, or any other helpless animal ever again! I sure am grateful to Michael Gross for showing me the error of my ways, and… Hey! Look! There's Michael Gross again! Hi Mr. Gross! Wow! I sure want to thank you for…URK!

Harv [Grabbing both Glenn and Hobo by the throat and proceeding to the kitchen without missing a step]: Come with me since I want to live.

Cringing inwardly at what I had to do, hating myself for doing it, yet knowing it had to be done, I stuffed Hobo into Mrs. Reynolds's Model 690 Oster Blend-o-Matic Deluxe, and pressed "liquefy".

Traumatized Glenn: HOBO! NOOOOOOO! Please don't do this Mr. Gross!

Harv: I lied. I'm NOT Michael Gross. Now shut up, kid, I'm saving the world.

The foul deed completed, I grabbed the bloody pitcher of puppy goo, stomped on Glenn's left foot, and when he opened his mouth to holler in pain, I poured the sticky mess down his surprised gullet.

Confused Glenn: Ack! Argh! Oogaoogaooga! Wha… What's happening to me? I feel… energized. I feel… strong… and… and… HUNGRY FOR POWER! Heh. Hmmm. Indeed

Harv: Better test this... Hey Glenn…

Evil Glenn: That's EVIL Glenn to you, peon.

Harv: What's your favorite drink?

Evil Glenn: Blended puppy

Harv: Who's your favorite world leader?

Evil Glenn: Mao

Harv: Who's your deity of choice?

Evil Glenn: Satan

Harv: Favorite dance?

Evil Glenn: Robot

Harv: How do you feel about penguins?

Evil Glenn: Horny

Harv: And if you could punch anybody in the world right now, who would you punch?

Evil Glenn: Why… nobody. I'd just like to hug a fuzzy bunny right now.

Harv: Oh? Then hug THIS!

And I punched him in the face as hard as I could.

Evil Glenn: OW GAWD! You BASTARD! You broke my f****** nose! I'll not rest until I pay you
back for your treachery!… Uh… who are you?

Harv: I'm Frank J. – Come and get me. MUAHAHAHAHA!

Leaving the bleeding, sniveling, puppy-gut-splattered, and now completely evil Glenn Reynolds to return to the life destiny intended for him, I pressed the button on the auto-return…

Geek: Gee, Harv, that didn't take long. You just left a couple minutes ago, and…

Harv [grabbing Geek by the shoulders and shaking him]: Quick! Who's the world's funniest blogger?

Geek: Why… YOU are, Harv.

Harv: DAMMIT! This is no time for ass-kissing! Just answer the question!

Geek [looking at the floor and shuffling his feet]: Frank J.

Harv: Good! Let me borrow your computer.

Geek: Sure. Over here.

Harv:… Ah! Here we are… "as funny as drowning puppies (actually, that is kind of funny; heh heh - bark bark, gurgle gurgle)."… NOOOOOO!

Geek: Harv. Dude. Relax. He's just kidding. See? Look up here… there's a new In My World, it's coffee-out-the-nose funny, and he even mentioned your name at the top of part 2.

Harv: Oh, ok. PHEW! For a minute there, I thought I was stuck in some hideous alternate reality that resulted from my meddling with the temporal currents and… what's this? "I think I'm done antagonizing Glenn Reynolds. I've exposed his terrible secret about his drinking habits to the world, and now it's time to bury the hatchet." NOOOOOOO! What has my meddling with forces beyond my understanding done? I've weakened the resolve of our fearless leader! I am a cursed man! My life is meaningless. All that I've fought for… in ruins… [breaking into sobs of despair]

Geek: Relax, Harv. Here, have a beer.

Harv: *sniff * Beer? Beer exists?

Geek [eyeing me warily and taking a cautious step backwards] Yyyeessss. Here. I just finished brewing this today. I call it God's Nectar Red Ale.

Harv: [sip] Hmmm… ya know, I think things are gonna be juuuuust fine.

Geek: So, how'd the Evil Glenn thing go? Did you stop him?

Harv: Well, Geekster, it's like this…

I told him the whole story, although I'm not sure how much he believed. The important thing is that he gave me a six-pack to take home with me.

I've learned the hard way that it is not mortal man's place to tamper with the greater forces of the universe. And that, while the world may not be the way we wish it were, it could always be a LOT worse. In an effort to take a short cut to defeating Evil Glenn, I wound up creating a universe where Frank J.'s resolve to do what's right is no longer the strong and eternal rock upon
which the Alliance was founded. But I am not afraid. Our cause is just. No matter what happens, the Alliance WILL prevail!

Besides, Geek still has that time machine. And I have an idea. Mheh.



Friday, May 9th , 2003:

Frank J.: OW GAWD! You BASTARD! You broke my f****** nose! I'll not rest until I pay you back for your treachery!… Uh… who are you?

Harv: I'm Glenn Reynolds – Come and get me. MUAHAHAHAHA!

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