HAVE YOU SEEN ME?

ALERT! ALERT! My Special Little Ninja Boy has gotten out of his cage. I know you guys were wanting me to write about my exploits, but there is no fucking time when My Special Little Ninja Boy has gotten loose. We were just playing a game we like to call "Chuck Norris' fist of fury in my ass" when he knocked me the fuck out and took off. I dont know how that dumb rascal figured out how to open the front door but he is smarter than I took him for. I am scared now for the people or things he comes in contact with but him will destroy them. I remember the time Moose Knuckles came over and My Special Little Ninja Boy grabbed ahold of his uncircumsized cock and snapped it off like he was splitting a wishbone to make that very special wish. Moose Knuckles hasnt been the same since. Please is you see M.S.L.N.B do not try to grab him, just do exactly this. Say to him "Snack, Crackle, Pop" and he will stand still. Then proceed to bend over and spread you ass apart for him so he can see that red eye of yours. Dont be alarmed when he starts to breathe heavy. When he screms "Die you stinkin fuckin gook!" Count to five and when he lunges at you like a fat lady at a glory hole convention, spin around and punch him right in the face. Call me right after so I can pick him up. Please whatever you do dont offer him anything to eat, or he will rape your children. That little bastard has done that too many times. I will end this with a quick quote from Thomas Jefferson.....Why dont you little colored ladies come and sign the Constitution with my magic spitting skin pencil.

At long last I have found thee....Lance Mantis! My arch-enemy turned homosexual romance turned arch-enemy turned heterosexual romance and again arch-enemy! I bet you think you got the best of me! You left me there in that tussle with Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman and the Yetti! Well I got news for you.... I will go down with this ship.. I won't put my flag up or surrender... There will be no white flag upon door! You know the rest! Back to the Yetti and Dr. Quinn... Basically I choked The Yetti and put Quinn's face through a fish fillet slicer. You may think the picture to the left were made from the Yetti.... You would be wrong! Those are shoes I made from Dr. Quinn's feet!

Space...race?

Cosmonaut Lance Mantis here again to help tune you in to interstellar communications of Earth and the binary star system Sirius. Universal subscribers know well my love for fantasy NASCAR (National Association of Stock Car Auto Racing), but my involvement in NASQUAR (Non-local Association of Spacecrafts and QAUntum Riddles) is no fantasy, yall. Check your rear-view mirror to witness my next first-place finish.

You may wonder why the R in NASQUAR does not stand for racing. In NASCAR and other terrestrial forms of racing, we usually deal in speed, velocity, and other constructs of classical mechanics. In NASQUAR, however, we deal mostly in quantum mechanics and talk about phenomena like Dr. Jack Sarfatti's "information-without-transportation," which I successfully applied to win NASQUAR's Plutona 5000 before it even started.

Robert Anton Wilson has used the term "correlations-without-connections" to refer to such non-local quantum phenomena, some of which I just demonstrated in the following sentences. Jack Sarfatti rhymes with NASQUAR-happy. I didn't plan that. While writing this, I discovered that Mr. Sarfatti has a website at "stardrive.org." Lance Mantis, NASQUAR's star driver? Mere coincidence? Synchronicity?

As I departed on my upcoming space riddle ride to the past, I recommend that anyone interested in attending my previous NASQUAR event consider releasing yourself from materialistic billiard ball action-reaction past-present-future systems of physics and sprinkle some quanta on your Siriul...

Saint Danica Patrick's Day

I'll play the race card again with alcohol and foul-co-fuel still racing through me blood after a St. Patrick's Day of kart racing and heavy drinking. See the picture? They chased me like Irish raiders with an ever-widening separation so vast the camera couldn't capture us as a group, but can any camera capture number 9 in action?

The morning of the race, I waketh up in a Phoenix desert zone to throngs of kart drivers gathered, chanting, "we appeal to you, holy serpent boy, to come and race among us!" Me blood bubbling with ancestral energy of Irish, I cast Landsnake McMantis, a speeding carbomb weaving snake-style around them and not among them, but I left some lucky charms for them at the finish line.

I sprayed mist of Miller High Life into the sunset as a drag-racing dragon named Nostrildamus flew me from the land, steering clear of Area 51 and utterly torching any flying creature in sight. I arrived at an opium den in Sarajevo to drink Irish stout, whiskey, and cream with Kourtney Kardashian while robot leprechauns showered us with shamrock confetti in celebration of the victory. The rest of the night was no race, but still a lot of great riding took place.

Here Comes the Judge

Alright! Alright! Calm down everyone. I am back by popular demand. I have been working hard trying to get my new business off the ground so I apologize for the delay. I do thank you for your kind words and your encouragement on getting me back on the blogisphere. I have been thinking long and hard of what to do next as far as my profession. Most of the ideas I have thought of, come to find out are very illegal and might get me shunned from "normal" society. What's that?...an example? Glad you asked. Well I was watching the movie "Taken" the other night and it got me thinking. How unfortunate was it that this poor man had his daughter kidnapped in a far away country and he warned her about it. I mean it was terrible that his own daughter was stolen and sold into slavery on the black market. And how terrible is it that I don't live in a far away country where I could do the same thing. I mean those guys looked like they make a lot of money. I know it would be a hard startup but there is very low overhead on human selling. I mean I would probably have to sell my own child to just get the business off the ground to get the initial capital to start this lucrative business. Plus they always say first impressions are key and I would have to make a great deal for these gentleman, and they look like their expectations are high. And what better product to be the face of my business than Daddy's little girl. But like I said this is very illegal and I could probably go to jail for a long time, not to mention going to Hell after that and they say that is a drag. Well I guess I have to keep the ideas-a-comin. This quote is dear to my heart, It is from my daughter when she said..Daddy what is human trafficking?..... Isn't she cute!

Cyclone donuts anyone?

Ever seen a ten thousand pound truck use four wheel drive to spin donuts so fast it goes up on two wheels and nearly takes flight or flips out of control causing mass disaster but doesn't? Well I saw Maximum Destruction do that and a whole lot more Saturday at THUNDER NATIONALS at the Pensacola Civic Center!! Not a monstrous venue, but sufficient for inspirnationally destructive monster jamming.

First we recognized the US Military servicehumans. Then came God Bless the USA and the National Anthem as we prayed the Pledge of Allegiance. Then came earplugs, monster truck exhibitions/racing, staged quad racing (yeah, that guy didn't really bet his girlfriend on that race he didn't really win), FMX with high flying back flips, and freestyle monster trucking with a twisterous donut contest. I didn't join in the event, preferring to let the amateurs mash it out while I rested my pistons for last Sunday's big race, NASCAR Sprint Cup's Kobalt Tools 500 at the Atlanta Motor Speedway!!

I woke up Sunday with my motor running high, fastened my immobilizing wrist braces, logged in, clicked on my 4 drivers and held on to first place better than Kurt Busch can do a victory lap in reverse. I left my laptop in the shop a couple days extra after that road-ripper. Now cool your engines as my next NASCAR event (3/22), Sprint Cup's Food City 500 at the Bristol Motor Speedway in Bristol, TN, approaches like molasses dripping down a skyscraper. Lance Mantis, aka Bristol Pete Lairavich, veering off.

Oh The Horror!!!

To all the Blancherry-ites out there, I apologize for the delay in getting new and exciting items to you but the "MAN" was bringing me down so I had to take him out. But all is well and the charges didn't stick. There was only one incident in the pen for which I will give no details, but I will say this, for being such rough and rugged men in there they are very sensitive in the art of love making ( and it was in the name of love). OK, now to the task at hand. In this session I am writing about the fascination of The Mardi Gras. This is something that has been brewing in my mind every since that Sunday evening that I stood and watched the debauchery in all its glory. There are many humorous sides of Mardi Gras. I will explain one. Myself and the uber-falacio enthused Dumpster Baby had a discussion on the Moon Pie. Why do people get excited about a pastry that is as appetizing as licking vaj filled with baby droppings. Trust me that does not taste good, especially when you are thinking it was just a bad case of clamidia. Anywho...Now how does the Moon Pie get made. Does it go through a staling process like a fine wine goes through a aging process? How long does the Moon Pie age before it is released into the wild. I have never bit into a Moon Pie and thought, Damn! that was one fresh Moon Pie. Usually my reaction is, Damn the Moon Pie people fooled me into eating this chocolate covered cardboard again. Was this how Moon Pie originated? Did Mr. Moon bake this pie and think that it was missing something. So he left the pie on the table and went back to his baking dungeon to devise a better tasting recipe. As he came up from the dungeon a year later totally devastated from not thinking up anything (I am told the baking inventing process takes a long time and has driven people to madness, hence the fruit cake) and saw this pie resting on the table waiting for his attention like an obedient dog. Mr. Moon bit into the pie and experienced pure euphoria. He had visions of people loving and worshiping this pie. Women would want this pie so much that they would lift up their shirts and throw their mammaries at him. Maybe I am discussing this because I am bitter that I didn't create this gold-mine. But don't think that I am not trying to come up with the next big thing. I am already in the works on making a dildo that runs on solar-power. The problem is that I keep getting horrible looks from people when I am outside testing the prototypes. Cant these idiots see the genius in a man with his ass pointing to the heavens shoving a black Tommy Lee-sized penis into his back pussy screaming out CHA-CHING OH DEAR GOD CHA CHING. I will leave you with a quote from the greatest inventor of all, George Washington Carver, when he said "Why don't you put these creamy nuts in your mouth."