Karlmayer

Welcome to Today’s FYB Post featuring KARLMAYER which is Yet Another Unknown Oddity that has Washed Up on Our Beach. No One seems to know a fucking thing about Who Posted It, Why They Posted It, Or What the fuck it’s Supposed to mean. So essentially its Insanity without Context.

WHAT WE FOUND:

  • The Video was Uploaded in May of 2008.
  • The Music is the Distorted High Pitch Child’s Laughter that Rapes Your Ear Drums Mercilessly so Heads the fuck up There.
  • The Only Real Piece of Actual Information lies in the Videos Description Which Simply Translates to the Name Karl Mayer. Karl Mayer was a German General Staff Officer who Introduced Hitler to Politics. And We all know How that Turned Out so Officially from FYB Fuck Him.

Video Run Down:

  • The Video Starts with the Illustration of Two Children that look Oddly Alien.
  • There Various Pictures of Flowers that Change Color, Distort, Morph, and Pulsate.
  • At the 46 Second Mark there is 2 Pictures of Pennywise from the Original TV Mini Series “IT” Not the Movie Remake/Reboot/Rewhatfuckingever You want to Call it.
  • More fucked up Flower Shit.
  • At the 1:13 Minute Mark there is a Close Up of What appears to be Some Child looking Doll Eyes.
  • Approximately at the 2:00 Mark the Video Takes a Dark Turn. The Video becomes More Distorted and Darker as the Abrasive Audio ramps Up Some.
  • Random Photos for Example a Thin John Wayne Gacy looking Clown and a Picture of the Actual Karl Mayer, and Then BACK TO THE FUCKING FLOWERS.
  • Then the Random Pictures and Flowers Mixed Together featuring such Random Images as An Old School Opera House, Pennywise again, some sort of Tunnel (possibly Subway), Ocean, and a Repeat of the Random Sky Shot from Earlier.

 

It is What It Is,

Presented By Les Sober

COOKING IDOL

Welcome to today’s post FYB post featuring the video by content creator know as Nana825763 COOKING IDOL. We featured another one of Nana825763’s videos titled USER NAME 666 which you can find located in the Strange and Disturbing Videos or in the Dark Web Videos (honestly it’s been so long since We did said post which category it’s in, but it’s in one of the two I assure you). It’s morbid masterpiece in the macabre the equivalent of Alice in Wonderland meets the Food network in the 9th circle of Hell.

                  

Now here is where it gets interesting there was some cryptic text (located later on in this post) accompanying the video that I couldn’t get out of my head. On a whim I decided to watch the video, but this time I switched on the closed caption. Once turned on the closed caption the ghostly audio translated into the following:

  • Ah. Yes. Static.
  • Hi.
  • Welcome to my cooking show
  • It’s good Food
  • Heals every losers plate
  • But keep in mind
  • I cook the tomatoes
  • Prepare them nice like this.
  • Do It.
  • Now.
  • Next step
  • Cook with Soy sauce
  • This is not optional
  • Enjoy

Now this reminds me of the band Tool’s song “Die Eier von Satan” off their album Enema. The song title actually means “the balls of satan” or “the eggs of Satan” in German, as “eier” can mean eggs or testicles. The song sounds like a Hitler Nazi rally speech circa World War two, the songs lyrics translate to a receipt for Marijuana cookies. A classic example things that aren’t what they appear to be at first sight or listen in this case.

                   

I then went back and watched the video for the umpteenth time, and compiled a list of the words displayed at the top of the screen during the video. This list is a good bit stranger and tad more grim than the audio translation. Here’s said list in chronological order:

  • Good food
  • Happy Happy Happy
  • I like red food
  • I cook the tomatoes
  • Lets
  • Cookingggggggggg
  • Please prepare the tomato
  • tomatoes is red
  • I cut the tomatoes into pieces with a knife
  • Please don’t cut your neck
  • Please burn bacon and rice cakes
  • Please listen to my song
  • Music
  • Start
  • I like rotten food!
  • Please put the tomatoes on rice cakes
  • Please rice cakes wrapped in bacon
  • Please insert a toothpick
  • Well did you?
  • Again please burn the sides
  • Please take the soy sauce at the end.

Now as Promised Text Accompanying Video:

fÁëfÑ ÇG ‹^àÇG ÇG ‹^àÇG( ÇG ‹^àÇG ÇG
‹^àÇG ÇG ‹^à‹G‹W‹NàȉNê‹^êÇG ÇG
‹^êÇG ÇG ‹^êÇG$ ÇG& ðƒFê(¡6º ¹ èª* ðƒÒÿ¹ èª*‰Fø‰Vú¸€- ™‹6» ‰FÒ‰VÔ‹Á‹Ó¹ èz* ðƒÒÿ‹NÒ‹^ÔÁÓ‰Fð‰Vò‹Fð‹VòÿƒÒ ¹ è^*‰Fô‰Vö‹^ê‹Fø‹Vú‰G‰W
‹Fô‹Vö+FøVú‹^ê‰G‰W‹^êÇG$ ÇG& ЃFê(ÇFôb ÇFö ‹Fô‹VöþÿƒÒÿ‰Fø‰Vú‹^ê‹Fø‹Vú‰G‰W
‹Fô‹Vö+FøVú‹^ê‰G‰W‹^êÇG$ ÇG& ЃFê(¡6º ¹ èº)¹ èÀ)‹^ê‰G‰W
‹^êÇG ÇG ‹^êÇG$ ÇG& ЃFê(¹ ‹F‹V
è)‰Fø‰Vú‹F‹V
FVÿƒÒ ¹ èo)‰Fô‰Vö‹^ê‹Fø‹Vú‰G‰W
‹Fô‹Vö+FøVú‹^ê‰G‰W‹^êÇG$ ÇG& ЃFê(‹^êÇG0 ÇG
‹^êÇG ÇG

See you on the other side,

  Presented by Otto Control  

Salute To Eccentrics First Ever Follow Up: IvySavage aka VERDUYNETAL!

As some of you may be aware that just a while ago I did my first official a FYB Salute to Eccentrics featuring Verduynetal, and now I have returned with an FYB First. As far as I am aware this is the very first time FYB has done a follow up post on a previous Salute to Eccentrics.

I fucking deplore repeating myself but if you haven’t seen the previous Verduynetal post (or just plain don’t want to) here is a brief recap. Someone tipped me off to this YouTube Channel Verduynetal and when I checked it out I had my first real feeling of deja vu. It was a truly strange feeling as I stared at a complete stranger while feeling like somehow I did actually knew them yet I couldn’t remember for sure How I knew them. Anyway while reviewing the video content had a break through moment and realized that I did in deed know who this person was. As it turned out we grew up in the same shitty suburban bullshit town, and attended the same shitty high school (though she was a couple of years ahead of me).

        

I mentioned in the original Verduynetal post that a friend of mine actually dated Verduynetal way back in the day. I decided to hunt down my old friend   Kurt and see if I could pick his brain a bit to see if I could jog any memories. Well that idea failed because as it turned out Kurt had died of a drug overdose 2 years earlier. Left to my own devices I have spent a good deal of time racking my brain trying to remember anything I possibly could about this phantom from my past. Luckily my memory is half way decent and I contacted Spacedog to see if he could recollect anything on the subject.

After hours upon hours of deliberating Spacedog and I managed to compile the following information on Venduynetal. First off she has a younger brother named Josh who is her polar opposite if there ever was one. Where Venduynetal was a complete fucking train wreck of a person Josh to his credit was a proper preppy. He got good grades, had several extracurricular activities, a bunch of friends, was positive, and had his shit together. I image her little brother has since moved as far away as he possibly could from his fucked up family. Speaking of family there was her parents. She lived in their house but neither Spacedog or I ever met, seen, or said a cursory hello to Venduynetal’s Dad. I mean for all intents and purposes he may as well have been dead and buried though I don’t think he was dead  (at least at the time anyways). I remember seeing her mom once and that she kind of creeped me out since she didn’t say a single fucking word the entire time though she kept staring at me relentlessly.

   

As for Venduynetal Spacedog and I pretty much remembered the same shit. Venduynetal was a punk rock with the asshole attitude to match. She was one of those people that believed everything they said to be the undisputed truth, and if you didn’t agree with her then you were a fucking moron. She was outwardly angry and aggressive since she had some sort of chip on her shoulder though I don’t know why. She grew up in SUBURBIA in an UPPER MIDDLE CLASS NEIGHBORHOOD and never wanted for anything as her mom enabled the hell out of her allowing her to act like an out of control asshole.

Without consequences your kids grow up from being crappy kid into an asshole of an adult. Venduynetal was a drama queen who had to create shit to be pissed at because her life in reality wasn’t shitty at all. I mean no one likes authority figures as a teenager, but Venduynetal thrived on emotional chaos and assorted bullshit creating Mountain ranges out of mole hills just to have something to rage against. Bottomline SHE was the cause or creator of all her perceived problems. She got off on being the town’s self proclaimed most outrageous outcast as the mother of all misfits, and apparently she decided this was her niche, dug in, and never left.

               

That was all there was to the story until Spacedog found an extremely interesting additional piece of information. I mentioned in the original Venduynetal post that I had a sneaking suspicion Venduynetal’s name was Ivy as indicated in a couple of her video titles. I was right in real life she goes by Ivy Savage which is obviously not the name that appears on her birth certificate. Ivy Savage is part of the ongoing idolization of all things punk which she apparently made up for herself (I do know her real name first and last, but this is FYB so I’m not saying anything as per Les). You might be wondering how I came to know of the Ivy Savage angle and the answer is simple. Spacedog went and searched the name Ivy Savage on Youtube and LOW AND BEHOLD he discovered a Second Channel titled IvySavage (no spaces). So with this little kid bit of information I damn well knew I would have to most definitely do a fucking follow up post so here we go.

IvySavage:

  • This channel actually pre dates the Venduynetal channel by approximately 3 months. I don’t know why she just didn’t rename her channel instead of creating a second one but what the fuck right.
  • The IvySavage channel joined on November 6, 2008.
  • The Channels has 22 videos in total posted.
  • There are 30 subscribers.
  • Channel Description: GO TO VERDUYNETAL CHANNEL PLEASE. ITS MY OTHER CHANNEL. (What surprised the fuck out of me was she actually said please which isn’t to punk rock now is it?!).
  • There 3 reoccurring themes:Finding  Hitler/Nazis funny, insomnia and prescription medications used to treat a variety of mental disorders.

  • One video that stuck out in particular was the video titled Creative with as much as is left 7 16 10 001. This video was shot solely by accident as Ivy enters a drug store to pick up some medication. While the video sums ass visually because the camera is all over the place it the AUDIO that I find most fascinating. Since this video was filmed by accident when the camera was on without Ivy’s expressed knowledge we can see what she is really like. What I mean by this is Ivy’s other videos she’s playing it up for the camera.
  • Another video that was particularly captivating in its oddity is the video titled cigarette break. What’s weird here is where the fuck Ivy is and who are the 3 additional people (other than ivy and her camera man) exactly? At first I thought she was at work, but it appears to me that she is attending some sort of program for people with more severe cases of mental illnesses.
  • We learn that her on again off again camera man is named Christopher in the video titled Instructional video on how to use Ivy’s door. Christopher for his part seems absolutely infatuated with Ivy somewhere between puppy love and a stalker like obsession.

  • Over all Ivy’s videos (like Verduynetal’s) fall into to categories the first being she is trying way to hard to be edgy/shocking/outrageous/defiant. The second are the videos where she honestly seems to slowly be unraveling mentally on the verge of crisis or is HEAVILY (and perhaps OVER) MEDICATED.
  • It also appears that the people Ivy associates with are all on psych meds too leaving me to wonder if she did meet them at a program for those with serious cases of mental health issues. This isn’t just because Ivy and company talk a good bit about different head meds, and they seem to know what they are talking about (they seem experienced in the subject). In the video titled Extinct…Like the kiwi Ivy literally says “Did you take your meds today, I sound like my mom.” to which her friend responds with the same question posed to Ivy. They then both attest to taking their meds that day.

HERE WE GO BETTER STRAP IN FOR THIS ONE!

That’s it so I’ll see you around,

   Justin Sane   

FYB’s Friday Night Feature Film: Kung Fucking Fury!

Tonight We have Another Short Film from a Master of the Theater of the Absurd! This Mind Twisting Bit of Goodness is KUNG FURY (2015)  a Swedish Short Film Written and Directed By David Sandburg. KUNG FURY pays Homage to the Martial Arts Action Films from the 1980’s.

Plot Summery: Detective Kung Fury is Suddenly Struck By LIGHTING and Simultaneously BITTEN BY A COBRA giving Him Superior Kung Fun Skills. Kung Fury’s Partner was Sliced in Half  by RED NINJA Years Ago, BUT in 1985 after Beating a Rouge Robot Arcade Machine Kung Fury QUITES the Force. when Assigned a NEW PARTNER TRICERACOP.

In the Mean Time Adolf Hitler also Know as KUNG FUHRER jumps into the Timeline an KILLS The Police Chief!!! Kung Fury Intent on REVENGE has Computer Hacking Wiz HACKERMAN to teleport Him Back in Time TO KILL HITLER!!!

Kung Fury then Teams with NORSE GODS, FEMALE BARBARIAN VALKYRIES, and KATANA to go with Him to GERMANY to FINISH THE JOB OF MURDERING HITLER, and DESTROYING THE NAZI ARMY ONCE AND FOR ALL!!!

Hope You Enjoyed Tonight’s Kung Fu Fight Riddled- Time Line Through History -80’s Laced-Adventure in Absuridty .

Thanks for Viewing,

Presented By Les Sober  

Strange Shit Found On My Phone FT. SpaceDog

When I say I found some Strange Shit on My phone I’m not talking Googling or any of that Happy Horseshit. I have so much shit on My Cell Phone take Pictures for Example. I currently have 9,867 Pictures/Videos on My Phone as I write This. So needless to say some shit gets Lost in The Parallel Universe that is My Phone.

I was sitting on My Porch Idly fucking around with My Phone and Discovered a Long Lost Text Conversation I had with SpaceDog. I had Apparently taken Screen Shots of since it for Safe Keeping as I repeatedly Delete Texts/Emails/Recent Call List throughout The Day.

This in all Actuality a Conversation as it is a One Hell of a Diatribe of a Monologue on SpaceDog’s Part. I have a Total of Two (2) Texts in the Very Beginning as You will soon See. So All The Credit Goes to SpaceDog, and SpaceDog Alone as its 100% His Material. Respect.

    

Now I’m not even Kidding Here Kids this Text Exchange is Dated:

August 13, 2014  Starting at 12:16 am

Note To Reader: Each SpaceDog Paragraph is a Individual Subsequent Text.

Without Further Ado Here. We. Go.

Les: New Olympic Sport Gum Gargling.

SpaceDog: Jesus may have had 12 apostles but this girl steals the show with her 6 fetuses on a world class adventure transversing space and time. Staring Lena Dunham. If her pussy sin’t already engraved in your head it will become tethered to your soul says Roger Ebert.

Les: HA! Holy Shit!

SpaceDog: Lmfao. And please Exit before the clittoris becomes totally aroused. Just one 1 ml too much fluid on ones erect pernis will lead one to thinking that the dick inside their asshole is actually their own really pounding some world class pussy out. But then u wake up in that same dark hallway. Where all you see is Sarah McLaughlin eating dead puppies and Alissa Milano saying a little girl waits on a constant loop. And the only clothing you can buy ever again is the Susanne Sommers 3 way.

        

The hole that swallowed time is an epic battle between good and evil. Starting odd couple Jeff Goldblum and Judy Dench this odd couple wins a free time share at the beach but must go Blindfolded.Watch as they must escape the depths of hell, battling mesa, vaginitis, and misguided fecal matter. Adolph Hitler says “Mien stomach was so turned I actually freed 100 Jews from the gas chamber because I knew this movie would be much more painful. Special guests appearance by lemmewinks, Morgan Freeman, Kesha, and Weird Al.

       

I’m a rejected marvel comic superhero that only gains his powers from shooting up b 12 and being a snark cunt. Otherwise I turn into my day job as an accountant, while as a superhero I fly around and steal all the precious metals I can from old men on beaches with metal detectors, and then I feed the parts to sea gulls at beaches over run by assholes. This is the true reason assholes hate the beach.

And Thats That just like Opening a Text Time Capsule.

Thanks for Reading,

  Presented by Les Sober.

Politics is Full of Assholes

People kept asking me why since I am quite passionate about politics (especially now a days) why I don’t write a post about it. I don’t for a few reasons.

The first I don’t want to waste my time or be annoyed by Political Fanatics who want to endlessly argue THEIR political points, its an exercise in utter and complete futility.

Second it take I image a few YEARS for me to write, and in the end it would be a fucking big book (I wouldn’t split it up over several posts because I’m first and foremost a writer NOT a Politician), and I don’t want to turn into a Political Blog either. That gets boring fast as fuck both for readers and myself.

Lastly beside being a writer I dabble a GREAT deal of Art (Painting, Sculpting, Drawing, all that shit.) SO based on the exactly the same concept of my GG ALLIN Pictorial Posts that a picture says a 1,000 words decided to use pictures. This time the Pictures will no be just a Photo, They will be mostly Mean Motherfucking, Brutally Truthful, and to the point Memes (which combines writing and Photographic Art).

I spent several hours showering the Idiotnet looking for direct to the point, I’m not a Politician NOR am I a fucking comedian.

If for ANY reason you as a Reader feel it necessary to voice your political opinion based on this post (or any fucking thing else) do me a fucking favor. Don’t bother posting the comment instead GO EAT SHIT SANDWICHES IN HELL ASSHOLE.

And So Here We Go…….

 

  Traitor Turned Wannabe Dictator FUCK 45.

 

(The GOPieces of Shit)

 

<Putin Buttplug. Enough Said.

 

The Uneducated Cult Followers

 

Habitual Liar Press Sec. Sarah SLANDERS

 

Fake Fox News AKA GOP Propaganda

 

Alex “Batshit”Jones   

 

NRA: Domestic Terrorist Org.

 

The Resistance.

Post By

Les Sober 

Heavy Metal March Madness: Malice The Band That Almost Killed Us All Part 3

March 1st, 1988 Malice entered Rancor Studio psyched to record their first record. Unfortunately March 1st, 1988 became known as “Sue Us Sunday” in the Malice camp. The reason was Malice was served papers several times through out the day precluding them from recording a single note. There were being sued by the Promoter from their show at Peoria Illinois Mental Metal Festival for Failure to Complete their contractual agreement by ending their set early. They were also being sued by Rock Out – Cock Out concert Promoters for missing their show scheduled at the Salt Lake City’s “SLC Metal Mayhem” for being a no show again violating their contract.

Alas that wasn’t all as Malice was simultaneously being sued by Lost Soul Productions who sponsored the Alaskan “Madmen of Metal” Festival. Lost Soul had a slew of charges Animal Abuse (for the Von Dire’s accidentally kicking a stray Penguin), Destruction of Personal Property, Desecration of Sacred Soil (The show was on Tribal Lands), Hate Crimes Against the Indigenous Inuits, Failure to complete contractual obligations, Inappropriate and unauthorized use of a Dog Sled, Grand Theft of 2 Dog Sled packs, Trespassing, impeding Tribal Practices, Drunk and Disorderly, Driving under the influence, possession of dangerous controlled substances, possession of Dangerous and Controlled Substance with intent to distribute, Contraband items (ex. Hardcore Porn), Child Endangerment (majority of fans in attendance were under the age of 18), Public Obscenity (for the bands prolific use of foul language on stage, Vandalism, Unpaid bar tab, Possession of unlicensed firearms, and Violation of the Indigenous Tribes Act of 1888, 1889,1909,1911, and 1938.

Yet Malice wasn’t out of the Legal forrest just yet. Malice’s troubles from the Master’s of Metal Festival in Oregon who were suing Malice for Public Intoxication, Drunk and Disorderly, 17 Counts of Assault (resulting from Sleaze and Ulrich impromptu fist fight, and the Security Guards who were also involved in breaking up the fight.), and for violation of contractual obligations. Oregon’s Wall was suing Malice for violation of contract when they showed up and instantly cancelled that nights show due to inflated egos (Malice at that time was heavily in the Media which garnered more and more attention from the music industry. Last but not least Malice was being sued by WhoreMonger Records for breaking their contract when the band opted to sign with Razorback Records.

The Sum Total of All the Law Suits combined came to a Heart Stopping $376,978,763,329.18:

March 2, 1988: Malice started interviewing for a new Manager, and ended up going with Harold Slickmann who had been in the industry for 47 years. Slickmann had managed such Legendary Bands like DTF, The Screaming Cocks, Diver Down, Suicidal Species, and The Drug War Rejects to name a few. Slickmann’s first order of business was to hire All Star Hollywood Lawyer TR McCoy who had made a career, and an art of getting his clients off  on obscure technicalities. Malice spent the rest of the day in the studio binge drinking and smoking Crystal Meth, and recorded only the intro to one song.

March 3, 1988  Rage returned from a visit to the Emergency Room, and called a band meeting. Rage announced he was leaving the band, and took a moment to explain. Rage had gotten a rather toothy blow job from a heavily intoxicated Groupie resulting in Rage receiving several cuts on his cock. Rage had thought nothing of it until some of the cuts became infected, but was so freaked out that he was too scared to go to the doctor.

When Rage did finally panic enough to finally seek medical attention he was informed the infected cuts had succumbed to gangrene. In fact the gangrene was so sever at that point there was nothing the doctor could do but amputate the gangrenous penis. Rage’s medical issue didn’t end there as the gangrene had spread to include Rage’s balls which too would need to be amputated, and then he would need several skin grafts to rehabilitate his gangrene affected taint. Faced with the dire situation Rage had decided to decline further treatment, and was going to Iceland where he’d wait to die. Malice entered the Rancor Studio and finished recording their album which wasn’t hard since Malice had been playing their own songs for ages.

March 4, 1988 Malice placed an add for a new Drummer because they wanted Rage to pick his successor before he departed to Iceland and into the Grave. Rage after endless interviews and several hours of deliberation in isolation told the band he was going to hire Mitch Furry. Mitch Fury was the ex-Drummer for The Dolts, The Tools, and The Dullards all of which Rage was a fan so it seemed to make the most sense. Now While Malice had completed their first album and brainstorming a title they decided to record some Cover Tunes or B-Sides on which Fury could/would play on.

March 5, 1988 Rage boarded his flight to Iceland never to be seen again. Malice decided to dedicate their first album to Rage and settled on the name Ragearrhea (a combination of Rage and Diarrhea because Rage always got a kick out of the GG Allin Song “Eat My Diarrhea” for being so absurdly over the top) Malice spent the rest of the day editing Ragearrhea over and over never quite all agreeing it was ready for release.

That night the entire band ate Acid an downed it with 191 proof Moonshine that a fan had sent them. When the sun arose Slickmann received a phone call fro the Police from Plankton 3 towns over to come retrieve his clients. Slickmann drove directly to the Plankton Police Department assuming the boys were sitting in jail (or more likely the Drunk Tank), but when he arrived he was informed that in fact the Band hadn’t been jailed. Confused as fuck Slickmann asked then where exactly was he supposed to go to pick up his clients, and was told to drive to the So Sweet Citrus Farm just 14 miles down the road from the Police Station.

Once Slickmann arrived at So Sweet Citrus Farm Slickmann was led by a Police Officer into an Orange Grove. There looked up and saw the band, all buck naked, and sitting balled up in a rather large orange tree. The fire department was there and allowed Slickmann the use of one of their ladders to assigned up into the branches to retrieve his clients. Once Slickmann reached the first member being Von Dire reached out to grab his arm and demand what the hell was going on. Before a single finger touched Von Dire he uttered two words “Not Ripe.”

It was then Slickmann realized the band was tripping so hard they actually thought they were oranges. So Slickmann thinking fast on his feet told the band that if they weren’t safe in his car they would be picked,pulverized, and have their juice drained. Slickmann’s plan worked and one by one the band members dropped to the ground where Slickmann picked them up and carried each one to his awaiting car.

March 8, 1988 after 3 days of non stop hallucinating Malice came down and back into the studio to put the finishing touches on Ragearrhea. During the editing process Von Dire was manically twisting knobs and switching dial when he suddenly became sick and vomited bloody feces on the elaborate sound board, and then sharted out his entire liver. The Engineer flipped the fuck out and dialed 911 while trying not to vomit himself. The Coroner pronounced Von Dire Dead on Arrival (but not after stealing Von Dire’s liver which he later sold on EBay for $1.5 Million)  In Surprise and Sorrow Sleaze shot up heroin by piggy backing needles into his neck, and passed out in an ally, Vile got piss drunk and passed out under an bridge, and Fury sobered up and found himself inexplicably in Detroit.

March 9, 1988 Malice gave Von Dire the Authentic Viking Funeral he always wanted. They had a large wooden raft constructed from logs of trees nearby, placed Von Dire’s body on the raft, and then placed personal items of Dire’s such as his favorite microphone, Porno, and Bong. The band then took turns saying a few words of Dire’s behalf, and then they set the raft adrift. Once it was far enough out Von Dire’s brother Van Dire shot a flaming arrow out above the water where it found its mark hitting the raft dead on. The raft burst into flame and slowly floated off into the setting sun on the horizon.

March 10, 1988 Malice meets with Executives from Razorback Records where they gave them the completed Ragearrhea Album which they fell instantly in love with. They then tasked Malice to pick which track from the album would be their first single, and being extremely concerned over the fact their new hot band (with a new record hot of the presses) in fact had no lead singer instructed Malice to hire one ASAP Yesterday. Malice went to a downtown dive bar named The Drunkard to discuss their options as far as a new singer was concerned.

Fury had been in a band called Finger Fucker and suggested that they perhaps should consider trying to recruit their lead singer  Izzy Insane. The rest of the band agreed it wouldn’t be the worst idea to at least go check Izzy out, and as luck should have it they were playing a show later that night at The Leisure Club.

Vile and Sleaze were impressed enough that (along with Fury) they made Izzy an offer. It turned out Izzy was fighting with the other members of Finger Fucker because the band didn’t approve of Izzy getting engaged to Maxi Padd (the lead singer of all female hardcore punk band Slut City.) No member of Malice gave a shit about who Izzy was involved with in the least which Izzy found a breath fresh air. Izzy left that night with Malice not even bothering to mention he was quitting to his fellow band members in Finger Fucker.

March 11, 1988 Malice informed Razorback that they have indeed found themselves a new lead singer in Izzy Insane. A delighted Razorback informed Malice that they would start the Pre Album Release promotion machine,book numerous interviews, and would be scheduling a American as well as European Tour to also promote the Album. About 4 hours later Razorback called back and inform the band that They had announced the New Album and the supporting tour. Now this is were things started to get a bit insane.

Razorback then went on to tell the band that due to the unanticipated, but amazingly massive response towards the new Album  They were releasing the it early. Instead of sticking with the original release date of April 18th were in fact now going to release it tomorrow. That in turn meant the “Carnal Carnival” Tour would also be moved up too (when fans heard of the upcoming tour launched a berauge of demand for tickets upon any concert venue in their city desperately seeking tickets) The tour would now be starting off in the days on March 14th with the first show in Berwick-upon-Tweed Northumberland, England.

March 12, 1988 Malice headed to the International Air Port to catch their flight to England in preparation for their first show of their “Carnal Carnival” tour.  Meanwhile Razorback launched Malice’s debut Record now titled “Disputing The Charges” in America where the fans went buck wild. Record Stores sold out of the Album, Fans franticly flocked to score concert tickets like mad, and Malice sold out of all other merch (such as T-Shirts and Bumper Stickers) as well. Razorback was so overwhelmed buy the never seen before success of Malice the quickly dropped all of their other acts to solo focus on their Cash Cow. In response to the increasing demand for all things Malice Razorback also contracted 22 new factories to print as many Albums as the could with large cash bonuses for speed of production were also offered. Razorback then dealt with the Malice Concert tour issues by tripling all of Malice’s show American Concert dates (meaning if Malice was originally scheduled to play 1 show Friday they would now be playing additional shows on Saturday and Sunday), and then Razorback signed 11,314 exclusive contracts for Malice merchandising retail sales.

March 14, 1988 Razorback called Slickmann at 5 am to tell him Malice’s album had actually gone to the number one spot on the Billboard charts. Radio stations were playing 12 Malice songs an hour (an average of 3 per 15 minutes of air time), and MTV was beating down there door wanting to know when the band would be releasing a video. Based on that Razorback had booked an emergency video shoot for the very next day to capitalize on Malice’s first European Show and first show of their “Carnal Carnival”Tour.

Slickmann went to The Wellington House a lovely little British Bed and Breakfast that Razorback has mistakenly reserved for Malice’s stay while on tour. Slickmann arrived to find the Wellington trashed beyond recognition, the irate Owner screaming at the Police while his hysterical wife sat on the from lawn, and every member of the band laying about the grounds in various states of intoxication and undress. Slickmann snuck around the well distracted Police Officers and managed to collect both Vile and Fury literally dragging them by their ankles to the parked tour Van. Once Slickmann secured his first two clients (simply by buckling them into their seat, plus if they wriggled free of the seat belts the steering wheel being on the left would confuse them to no end) went back to retrieve Sane and Sleaze who were awkwardly positioned sprawled out on the front lawn.

Slickmann slithered up to the Owner’s Wife and proceeded to agitate her further into a complete tizzy. He then walked over to the Owner grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around like a top. Once the Owner and Slickmann were face to face Slickmann suggested the man’s time would be better spent calling his lawyer than screaming at the Police. The tactic worked like a charm and the Owner took off to call his lawyer. The Police thanked Slickmann and then turned their attention to the Owner’s Wife’s mental meltdown. At this point Slickmann snagged Sleaze and Sane, ushered them to the Van and sped off as fast as he could.

Right before they were headed to the stage Malice got a call from Razorback in their dressing room. Razorback wanted to let the band know that since they had failed to pick the first single for Ragearrhea they had. Razorback decided to go with “Its Easy Being Sleazy” followed by “Liquor, Ladies, and Lingerie”, and then “Beer Belly Blues”. Malice thought that was fine because it didn’t require them to do jack diddly shit, and that combined with the fact the band actually didn’t care which song was used as the single (Sleaze was on record in an interview with Metalhead Magazine that as far as he was concerned singles shitty singles as singles were complete shit.)

The Show that night was a massive success as the fans went fucking wild, and Malice ended up playing 4 encores  after their 3 1/2 hour set. The band was in and downing good spirits, and went out to the only Strip Club called The Lusty Lass for a post show party. There Vile met a pair of Siamese Twin Sisters (they shared a mutual pinky) who worked as contortionists in a traveling State Fair, and fell madly in love with them, we’re talking head over heels hallmark type shit here. Vile ended up marrying the Spinster Sisters in two individual ceremonies at the neighbor hood Pub by a drunken Minister, and the two Sisters (Una and Dosa) joined the band for the remainder of their tour.

March, 15th 1988 Malice showed up 6 hours and High off their asses for their video shoot.  The day was a total fucking shit show as the band was too intoxicated to follow any direction no matter how simple. Sleaze kept nodding off due to having shot up enough Heroin to kill a Horse while Vile kept walking off in search of any type Alcohol, and Fury just stood in place swaying slightly drooling on himself comatose. Sane was running around like a cracked out jack rabbit after snorting a quarter ounce of Crystal Meth that morning for breakfast. The original video director walked off set saying he couldn’t work with a group of untalented American drunks and druggies, the Assistant director took over only to quit half an hour later because he couldn’t handle the ongoing chaos. At this point Slickmann knew it was time to step up his game.

First Slickmann snatched the Bottle of RotGut Fortified Wine from his trunk he kept for emergencies such as this. Slickmann then flagged down Vile and gave him the bottle along with his Bass. Then Slickmann found a Camera man who happened to sell Cocaine to supplement his income, bought an 8 Ball, and gave it to Sleaze with the instructions to “Wake The Fuck Up”. Now Slickmann turned his attention to Sane, and managed to score a handful of pills (Valium, Vicodin, Xanax, and Oxycontin) which he handed to Sane telling him to grind them up and snort them ASAP (Snorting crushed up pills allows the user to feel the effects faster then swallowing them) Finally Slickmann had to deal with Fury which he injected with an EpiPen  (which is essential Adrenaline) he stole from a onsite first aid kit.

Once the members of Malice had balanced out their intoxicants the shoot was locked and loaded, but they still need a Director so once again Slickmann stepped in as Director. The video shoot went splendidly and the band was done Shooting in just under 30 minutes. Slickmann then immediately sent the video to Razorback Records, and a copy to MTV.

May 16, 1988 Nothing Eventful or Interesting occurred. Slickmann slipped Roofies into Malice’s morning Bloody Mary’s rendering them unconscious for 19 hours straight. Slickmann had a pleasant and restful day setting up interviews, talking to various companies about sponsorship/product endorsement/advertising deals and so on.

March 17, 1988 That morning Malice did a marathon session of magazine interviews with Revolver, RollingStone, Hit Parader, Mental For Metal, and  Circus just for starters. Malice also had done a ton of interviews via the phone with Radio Shows such as Bubba and BooYah in the Morning, The Howard Stern Show, and The Greaseman Morning Show. The Band went to The Booze Hound Bar and drank their lunch before heading over to a local High School where Slickmann had the AV Club ready and waiting to film an interview for MTV’s Headbanger’s Ball (MTV’s Saturday at Midnight Heavy Metal Show). After the MTV video interview was done Malice headed off to The Local Yokel Amphitheater in Swansea Wales a rough and tumble town plagued by poverty and drug addiction.

The Show was a raging success with the Highlight being Sane led the Audience in a sing-a-long of their Cock Rock Classic “Free Mustache Rides (All Day Long)” and pulled one lucky Fan on stage to sing the chorus for Malice’s impromptu  a cover of  The Eater’s of The Dead” by the Legendary Punk Band The Perv’s.

March 18, 1988 At an early breakfast meeting Sleaze announced that he felt at home in Swansea’s nitty gritty and often shitty city life. Plus there was plenty of high grade Heroin to go around so Sleaze truly was in his element. With this sudden and new life choice Sleaze would be leaving the band to pursue his dream of being a washed up junkie has been. Before Malice’s Management shit the bed Sleaze informed the band he had already found his/their replacement guitarist. Sleaze’s replacement would his younger brother Davie Scum who already knew all of Malice’s songs by heart, and who’s last band The Dire had imploded over artistic differences. The other members of Malice didn’t object as they figured if Davie was Sleaze’s Little brother then he’d be bad ass enough for them.

That night’s show was a disaster of epic proportions. First off Malice missed sound check showing up while their opening act The Slags (a local band booked for that night) were in the middle of their set. The Slags were having a hell of a night and the crowd was on fucking fire so The Slags did a couple of encores to a roaring Audience. When the Slags announced they’d be playing yet another encore Malice lost their collective Mind. All Members of Malice ran out on stage and started pushing and shoving members of The Slag’s while trying to wrestle their instruments from them.

Gunther Gunner the lead Singers of The Slags head butted the shit out of Sane breaking his nose, Vile then kicked Gunner square in the balls so hard he vomited. Seeing this Roger Dodger (the Guitarist of The Slags) grabbed his guitar strap off his guitar and proceeded to whip Vile relentlessly with it like a dog. Fury came to Vile’s aid by smashing Dodger upside his head with a Microphone Stand which split Dodger’s head open like a ripened cantaloupe sending a torrent of blood exploding forth from a massive gash on Dodger’s forehead. Scum being the new kid on the block and not wanting to show band unity Started breaking beer bottles over the head of any The Slags band members. Security scrambled on stage to stop the brawl and became part of it instead, it was a may lay of fists and feet as the fight turned into every man for themselves.

The fans of each band in the front row started beating the hell out of each other which spread through out the Audience until the entire venue had erupted in a full blown Riot. The Police came speeding in with their lights blazing, and officers started jumping out of their patrol cars and strapping into their riot gear. The fans began vandalizing the Venue, and set fire to all of the concession booths as the first round of Tear Gas came raining down. By the time Law Enforcement had gotten the scene under control 227 Fans were treated for various injuries (ranging from small cuts to a gut who got kicked so hard in the head his eyes popped, and swung back end forth on the optic nerves), 379 Fans were arrested, and one Fan died (it was later corner listed the cause of death as a heart attack most likely caused by the extreme excitement of seeing his favorite band Malice Live). Malice was arrested, held over night, and released on $500,000 Bail with a new list of charges.

March 19, 1988 Malice Arrived in Italy for their show in the city of Urbino the next day, when they were stopped by customs. A Customs Agent led the band into a small detention room where they were met by The Polizia di Stato (The Italy’s State Police). The Polizia where there to inform the Band that they were there to Arrest Vic Vile on the charge of Polygamy. They stated that since Vile had married the Spinster Sister’s Una and Dosa individually meaning he was in fact married to two different women.

Slickmann sent for the Band’s high profile Lawyer TR McCoy who arrived a few hours later on his private sonic jet, and then jumped in a waiting Bentley Limo he had custom made (TR McCoy lived in Italy one month out of the year, and owned a spacious Mediterranean Villa in Venice) By the time TR McCoy arrived at the Police station he was told Vile had been taken to the Court House already to stand trial. McCoy then hauled ass over to the Court House only to discover Vile’s trial was already over, and he had been found guilty. McCoy then sped over to the County Prison to consult with Vile and see if he could bail him out, but once at the Prison the Warden told McCoy that since Vile had been found guilty he was then sentenced immediately. Now considering the Italy’s long and illustrious history of Christianity (and high concentration of Catholic’s )called for a Polygamist  be put to death. So for all his efforts and killer response time McCoy was too late to do a damn thing, but to arrange Vile’s body to be sent back to America for Burial.

Malice’s show that night fared no better. The Stadium that Malice was scheduled to play at was being protested and heavily picketed by the Catholic Coalition of Christ since Malice had been condemned as an abomination by the current Pope. That nights fill in bassist (for the newly deceased Vic Vile was strolling into the venue when the Protester’s spotted and attacked him pelting him mercilessly with Crucifixes, Whipping him with Rosaries, and beating him brutally with a various variety of Bibles. The poor guy ended up in a mock crucifixion in the middle of the parking lot.

The Protest was so heated that when Malice arrived they were trapped on their tour bus surrounded by religious fanatics with signs that said things like “Malice: The Sound Track To Hell” or “Malice is the Sinful Servants of SATAN” screaming scripture non stop yelling over each other. Malice decided the protest was a huge hassle and had agreed leaving was their only option, but not before Scum climbed out of the emergency exit on the roof off the bus to address the protesters.

Scum  repeatedly made the sign of the cross upside down, waving his “Devil Horns” (as the hand jester is referred too), and pelting people with copies of The Cult of Id’s “Hedonism Not Hell” inciting further rage against the group. Scum then attempted to shit on the Protesters, but to no avail as he was seriously constipated due to taking fist full of Opioid Pain Killers) Slickmann buckled down that night (while Malice retreated to Sex Club for its Annual All Anal Orgy, and tried to do all of the drugs in Italy) for the PR nightmare no doubt coming first thing in the morning.

March 20, 1988 The phone rang off the fucking hook starting at 6 am as a the Press blitzkrieg began. It seemed ever Media outlet was beating down Malice’s Hotel room door to get a piece of the impending Scandal steaming from last nights failed show. Scum went on record stating his official opinion was that the Protesters (as well as anyone else) were fanatical assholes who Weaponize the Bible for their own personal beliefs or agendas. Sane’s statement to the Press was simply that “I shoot Dope with The Pope.” Meanwhile Fury got so shitfaced that he just rambled incoherently about different conspiracy theories such as the Illuminati were behind the anti-Malice Protest.

Now while Malice manned the phones Slickmann had to deal with the shipping of Vile’s body Stateside which had happened to go from bad to worse. The Italian Government claimed they had sent the body via an International Cargo Ship, but Vile’s body had been somehow lost at sea along the voyage. Slickmann had to think fast and came up with the plan to call Vile’s Family (and as far as the Press was concerned) and tell them Vic wanted to be Buried at Sea. Next on Slickmann’s agenda was handling his fair share of the Press Onslaught that was still raging on with no sign of stopping. After several hours of dealing with the Press Slickmann realized in all the chaotic madness that no one had addressed the fact that Malice needed a replacement Bassist.

Slickmann thought up a Hail Mary, and had Sane contact his Fiancé Maxi Padd who was the Singer/Bassist of the All Female Punk Band Slut City. In a turn of good luck Slut City was on hideous so She was able to fill in for Vile until the end of the tour. Once again association with a Malice member was good enough to get the green light from the rest of the band making Maxi the official new Malice Bassist.

That nights show at the Benito de Soto Amphitheater was suddenly cancelled because apparently a gang of Soccer Hooligans at the previous night’s game between intense rivals The Matador ‘s versus The Revolucionaria de los Trabajadores Alliance got out of hand. Well in fact it turned into one giant fist fight between fan’s as bottles and Molotov Cocktails were tossed around like footballs. By the time the Police dispersed the Crowd, and arrested as many perpetrators as they could the Amphitheater was well on its way to burning to the ground.

March 22, 1988 Malice was detained at Ireland’s Kilkenny International Air Port under suspicion of Smuggling Exotic Animals. It only took about 15 minutes or so for the band to be cleared by Customs, and they headed straight to the Hotel accommodations. Slickmann had booked the band the Penthouse Suit to celebrate the tour success thus far a decision he’d later regret.

That nights show at The NewDublin Stadium went off without incident which was a relief to many. Back at the Penthouse Malice called in a small army of Escorts and Strippers up, and hired a professional camera crew to film their Rock Opera Porno Movie. For the next 3 days Malice barricaded themselves in the Penthouse running up a six figure room service tab as Pimps, Prostitutes, Porn Stars, and Associated Drug Dealers came and went  constantly in and out 24 hours a day in a seemingly endless procession. The Hotel Management was on the verge of calling the Police the entire 72 hours, but Slickmann threw enough money at them that held off. Slickmann had again contacted TR McCoy the band’s high powered Lawyer and had him fly in to assist with the legal issues of the absurd situation.

On the evening of the 3rd day Malice finally emerged from the Penthouse suit looking like cadavers with pale skin, sunken eyes, blank expressions, and in a drug induced haze. Skillmann checked every member of Malice into the closest Detox he could find to have the drugs pumped out of his half dead clients. While Malice was Detoxing Slickmann met up with TR McCoy back at the Hotel for a meeting at the infamous Rock Opera Porn suit as it was now being referred to by the staff. When the two walked into the Penthouse looked more like a Crack House.

The furniture for the most part had been smashed to pieces or had just seemed to have vanished into thin air. There were 4 bare mattresses laying randomly on the floor which was littered in a thick blanket of Beer and Booze Bottles. Over flowing ash trays were perched on every viable surface like little cancer landslides. The toilet was broken, the shower had been left running and there was a variety of drug paraphernalia stashed all over the place, Crack Pipes in the couch, empty Drug Baggies laying all about, mirrors coated with Cocaine residue, numerous syringes, Meth Pipes on and under the only remaining table, Heroin spoons in the kitchen lined the counter like from some Dope Shooting contest, and clusters of empty pill bottles were stacked up in the corners. Slickmann and McCoy instantly agreed to have their discussion out in the hall as they were sure they would contract every venlarial disease known to man.

McCoy said he would fend off any possible legal issues with the Hotel with a fat ass check, and any issues’s with local Law Enforcement McCoy would claim that due to the prolific drug/alcohol use were rendered temporarily insane due to drug induced psychosis. Slickmann’s job was to hunt down and confiscate every piece of footage of Malice or their movie from the past 72 hours and destroy it which somehow he managed to do by asking questions and writing a plethora of checks. Slickmann then picked up Malice at the Detox and escorted then directly to their private plane without a single moment to waste. As Malice’s plane was just taking off the Police showed up and stormed the Airport looking to arrest Malice for a Soliciting Prostitution, Soliciting Narcotics, Vandalism, Grand Theft (the missing Hotel Furniture), Illegal filming of Pornographic material, Bribery, Obstruction of Justice, and Obscenity. McCoy remained behind at the Air Port to deal with Police and Malice’s long list of assorted charges.

March 25, 1988 Malice’s arrival in Germany was met with a grand fanfare as hundreds of Fans had found out where and when Malice’s plane (usually kept as a well guarded secret to avoid Fan interference) was landing. Skillmann instructed the Pilot to take off and head for McMillan Air Strip immediately. After landing once again this time at a Fan free Airport Malice hurriedly made their way to the Concert Venue cancelling their Hotel reservation on the way (they figured if the mob at the Airport had found out when/where they were landing then they more than likely knew what Hotel they were staying at.)

That night Malice played to a record setting sold out crowd of Beer Fueled Fanatical Fans. During the guitar solo for Malice’s number one album chart topping song “Late Night Loving” Malice’s equipment over powered the Stadium’s electrical system causing it to explode, and shrouding the entire Stadium in a cloak of darkness. This prompted Scum to snag a Megaphone and invite everyone in attendance to join Malice for drinks at The Duggered Dog Pub down the street from the Stadium. Malice stayed to party with their adoring fans into the wee hours of the morning, and ended up going straight from The Duggered Dog to their Plane the next day.

On the way to the plane Slickmann noticed Fury was missing from the line up. Slickmann then interrogated the other members of Malice as to Fury’s whereabouts, but still being 16 times the legal limit none of them seemed to know. Sane volunteered that Fury had left the Pub in search of information on his German heritage. Slickmann breathed a sigh of relief, and couldn’t believe his luck that the answer to Fury’s exact location at this time was such an easy one. Slickmann told the chauffeur to drive to The National German Heritage Museum.

The scene that greeted Slickmann when he arrived at the National German Heritage Museum was right out of a TV Crime Drama. There were 2 Police cars parked with their light flashing but sirens off behind a Ambulance. On the sidewalk in front of the museum were two EMTs standing on either side of a man strapped to a stretcher, and that man was Mitch Fury naked covered head to toe in what looked like shit. Slickmann approached one of the EMTS to inquire to what the hell happened.

The EMT told him that when the staff of the museum had showed up to work that morning they noticed that one of the front windows had been smashed out. Initially they thought it was just some local high school vandals had gotten drunk and decided to raise hell. Upon entering the museum however they saw sign of an intruder leading from the broken window into the World War 2 Wing of the museum. It was at that point the concerned staff phoned the Police who arrived promptly to investigate the breaking and entering.

What the Police found was as disturbing as it was absurd. Fury was totally naked, covered in his own feces clutching the leg of a Mannequin dressed in a Nazi SS Uniform, swaying back and forth while muttering “I’m a Piece of Shit” over and over inconsolably. From what the Police had figured out at this point was an intoxicated Fury had broken into the museum to “research” his family tree as he was of German heritage, and had suffered a sudden phycological breakdown when he found out he was directly related to Adolf Hitler (via a bastard baby Hitler had with a Sausage Factory Worker in 1939) Slickmann called the Record Label as Fury was taken to Schietzer State Metal Hospital for further evaluation.

March 26, 1988 After hearing Slickmann’s update on Malice and their current tour instructed Skillmann to do the following. The first was get Malice on their plane and fly them State side immediately, and leave Fury in the care of the German Mental Health Professionals for now. Razorback wasn’t having Malice return because they were pissed off at the Band for their excessive on and off stage outrageous antics it was quite the opposite. Razorback had racked up so much money from having Malice as a client was truly monumental (example half of the current staff at Razorback got so rich that the retired early). Thus it was in Razorback’s best financial interests to have their Cash Cow back in the pasture. They set up a stay for Malice at the most secluded and private (not to mention government level security) Hawaiian’s Elite Spa where they were to go directly from the German Airport. Slickmann was then told to fly to Los Angeles to meet with the company heads at Razorback Records to talk shop and marketing strategies.

For the rest of the month of March Malice enjoyed the Coconut-Ketamine Coma Dream Therapy offered at Elite Spa, lounging by the poor downing Daiquiris, smoking high grade Marijuana, and chronically masturbating like Monkeys. Skillmann met with the Executives at Razorback for a 5 day all out marketing madman meeting holed up in the company’s Board Room surviving on Energy Drinks, Protein Bars, and a copious amount Gin.

Stay Tuned For Malice: The Band That Almost Killed Us All part 4 Coming Soon…..

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober 

Hackers Can Go Hump Hitler in Hell.

Once again f-yourblog.com suffered another unfortunate set back. I was working on the GG Allin Pictorial when I went to open photos and the son of a bitch wouldn’t open. This had happened once before and it was easily fixed if by that you mean spending well over an hour on the fucking phone with Apple Customer Service Representatives.

So once again I had to grin and bare it and called Apple Customer Service.

The first Apple Representative  I spoke with unfortunately had one of the thickest Indian accents I have ever heard. I honestly could only make out about every third word, and had to constantly ask him to repeat himself. Finally we got to the point where all attempted communication had ground to a slow but definitive stop. By that I mean I couldn’t proceed to do a damn thing  because We had hit the point in the conversation where I had no idea whatsoever what the Guy was asking/saying/instructing me to do. After a couple of minutes of just simply telling the Representative repeatedly that “Its isn’t doing a damn thing!” we got disconnected. I think it is safe to assume the Representative had realized as I had that we could not go any further, and was getting tired of my growingly stand offish attitude. I can’t say I blame him for if he had stayed on the line with me it would have ended in a very ugly and obscene manner I assure you.

Now being thoroughly pissed off at the result of my first 40 minute failed phone call to Apple Customer Service I called them again immediately.

Now allow me a minute to explain that in these situations if the Customer Representative is Polite, Attentive, Apologetic (if need be), informative, up beat and helpful I guarantee it will be the most entertaining phone call that that they will receive all fucking Month. Yet if the Customer Service Representative sounds annoyed, bored, agitated, depressed doesn’t listen to what the hell I’m saying I guarantee it’ll be the most hellacious fucking phone call that they have EVER experienced. The reason for this is the Customer Service Industry is damn near dead as a door nail thats for fucking sure. I’m sick of having to call some 800 number to resolve a problem/issue and having to deal with some phone drones shitty attitude for god knows how long, BUT I digress.

Luckily for All the second Apple Customer Representative I spoke with was a very polite gentlemen named Isaac Internet.

Isaac Internet went on to inform me that the current issue wasn’t the same dippy dips hit as before and in fact its rather serious to say the least. Isaac went on to tell (and show me with the whole fucking screen sharing shit) that 11 fucking separate individual Assholes had been working on Hacking Our IP address, and had made it as far as shutting off our FireWall protection. Isaac explained the whole IP Address Hacking Threat in full from How It Works to How to Prevent it.

At one point Isaac “Momed” me. Isaac had identified the problem as being Hackers and all I gave a shit about was fixing the problem and preventing any future issues ASAP. I know what a Hacker is and what they do and what their looking for so I appreciated the tutorial BUT I didn’t want to hear a damn word of it right then, JUST FIX THE FUCKER. I laughed sarcastically at one point during Isaac’s Hacker/Hacking Lecture, and Isaac just like a Mom abruptly cut me off and sternly reminded me that this was a very serious situation and I shouldn’t think otherwise. Fuck it He was right. After Isaac’s impromptu Anti-Hacker/Hacking Speech we figured out a game plan and resolved the problem/issue so I can’t rightfully complain.

Now to be clear I am a rather paranoid person and I definitely don’t trust a fucking computer/Laptop/Smartphone/Tablet etc. in the least. At the end of the day as a habit I delete all the day’s texts, e-mails and recent phone calls I honestly don’t know when I started doing this but I won’t be stopping anytime soon. Its my utter distrust in the safety of todays electronic devices that more than likely saved our ass. See I don’t use my Smartphone as the wallet of today, that is there is no personal information on it to be hacked and stolen. If a Hacker did access my phone they’d be unamused and angry they wasted their time on a dead end. I also don’t carry around my Lap Top or Tablet like an electric brief case so again their’s no important personal information, no passwords, no record of Bank Transactions, no crucial business related items, no online bill pay, no Paypal account, no Facebook nothing an Identity Thief would give a flying fuck about.

You can use this Blog as a prime example of how I highly I prize and to what extent I will go to to hide y actual identity. Thats why there no actual pictures of me, my friends or family here, My name isn’t splattered all over the site because I personally don’t want to “Be Famous” or even well known OUTSIDE OF MY WORK. Thats why My Tech Paranoia carries over to this blog. That why I even wrote a post explaining my views on my personal Privacy/Anonymity. In that post I stated I am using a Pen Name as is everyone affiliated with or working for f-yourblog.com and thusly I would be changing the names of all people and places in every post, but not only that. I wasn’t going to half ass it I’m not calling Dave Donald or any simpleton shit I change the names to completely absurd ones that are totally unbelievable (as that is what they are intended to be.)

IN SUMMATION: ALL ASSHOLES WHO BECOME IDENTITY THIEVES THROUGH HACKING CAN GO SUCK SATAN’S BALLSACK, EAT THE DEVIL’S DICK, AND HUMP HITLER IN HELL.

TO ALL HACKERS: GO HACK YOURSELF UP YOUR OWN ASS AND FUCKING ROT INCASED IN YOUR OWN FUCKING FECES.

 

By Les “Than” Sober  

Patrolman Pud Whacker & The Night Of 1,000 Tickets

It was a warm summer’s day back in The Mother State I remember it well, time as not dulled the vivid details of that day in the least. I was driving around town aimlessly trying to find something to do in a town trapped in constant small time stagnation. I ended up stopping by my friend Arminian’s grandmother house and found him at home with his long term high school sweet heart girlfriend by the name of Eon. Not to long after picking Arminian and Eon up we ran into a mutual friend in the 7-11 parking lot called Hermoor the self proclaimed “Last Norwegian Viking”. Like us Hermoor was bored out of his Nordic God loving mind and had nothing to do as well decided to join our futile quest for entertainment.

We had been aimlessly driving in virtual circles for about half an hour when I made a right turn onto a highway accidentally cut some random red pick up truck off. The driver was a beer bellied middle aged man in a stereotypical John Deer baseball cap, dingy flannel shirt and sporting a scruffy unkempt wild man of the woods beard.  At this point in time the term road rage had not been defined and coined into the american lexicon as of yet ,BUT thats exactly what this moronic hillbilly bellend had going on. The driver was tail gating the holy shit out of me while screaming like a banshee and waving his hands around like a Hitler during one of his speeches.

The problem at hand I was faced with was I had 2 choices and had to make one on how the hell to best handle this road raging dickbag. On one hand I could keep driving until I hopefully lose the fool and that would be that problem solved. OR I could pull over and my friends and I could beat this wannabe bad ass into the ICU. Blinded by his road rage the pick up truck prick had failed to notice he was one middle aged outta shape man versus 3 twenty somethings figuring a fight would relieve the eternal state of boredom for a bit. I decided to attempt and avoid a fight due to the fact that inevitably the cops would be called followed by us getting arrested and the other guy getting a ride to the nearest emergency room. Unfortunately in such a small ass tiny town its next to impossible to lose anyone especially if they’re bumper fucking your car into next week.

Finally I drove behind a shitty strip mall to reach main street when low and behold there are 2 cop cars sitting side by side as they do when the officers are chatting about the bullshit they pull with tax payers money. FOR ONCE I figured the cops would be helpful in deterring the Pick Up Truck Fucker to lay off his wannabe vigilante war path and we could be rid of this son of a bitch. At first my idea seemed to have worked as I drove past the parked cop pow wow and the Pick Up Pecker pulls right up to the pow wowing police and starts ranting like a Meth head on a bender so I figured well hell that douche bag is the cops problem now.

I pulled out of the shitty strip mall onto main street and managed to drive 2-3 miles before I look in my rear view mirror and see BOTH cop cars driving up on me quite seriously with lights on and all that fun shit. I pulled over confused as to what the hell I did other than  save some ungrateful asshole from eating soup through a straw for months on end. That and I wasn’t speeding and I obeyed all traffic signs and shit because well there were 2 cops present so what the hell am I getting pulled over for?!

Thats when I officially met Patrolman Pud Whacker a 25 year old just graduated from the police academy and so fresh out of the wrapper he stilled smelled like a new car.  Patrolman Pud Whacker asked me what the pick up truck deal was all about so I explained the situation in full. Now I was the picture of refractory when I was younger as I didn’t give a shit about the game and went out of my way to shit all over the so called rules. Patrolman Pud Whacker essentially dismissed the Pick Up deal and just plain started to hassle us “young punks” at which point I all but lost my shit. I vented my increasing anger at this ass backward situation where for once in my/our lives we didn’t do the wrong thing by letting the pick up driver act the fool without inflicting grievous bodily harm.

Patrolman Pud Whacker broke right into the snide superiority of a cocksucking cop who just hit the streets and is getting an erection from the new found authority (My guess is Pud Whacker was a punk bitch who was bullied and beat up all through high school so now being a cop is his way of settling his the score with society) Anyway things between Patrolman Pud Whacker escalated quickly to say the least as our voices rose and I let the profanity train go hurtling on its way to obscenityville. I was viciously arguing that messing with us instead of dealing with some reckless revenge driver’s road rage was exactlly why America is fucked as well as why no one trusts nor likes what the American police force has turned into.

So to be a MEGA prick and also prove my point Patrolman Pud Whacker preceded to walk around my car in a malicious 360 of dickdom writing tickets for every and all traffic infractions he could find wrong with my car. At the end of our lovely 15 minute roadside shit storm I was handed a literal fist full of tickets that totaled $1,200 and change.

Summery: Cops are Crooks so handle things yourself because cops can only hurt you they don’t help anyone BUT themselves and now in 2016 cops aren’t just crooks anymore their cold blooded power tripping killers.