Evil!
When I opened my mailbox today, I discovered lots of cleverly hidden evil. I see through your fake charisma. Ha! Can't fool the great Ghand!
For those of you who -aren't- evil, I've recently been getting lots of strange e-mail... e-mail so strange, I'd have to call it strange. Which is strange enough, because I'm a strange person! So strange people calling other things strange is very strange. Then, since I'm strange, maybe I deserve this level of strangeness...
But it's evil!
Like those giant monkeys in Black & White.
Where were we? Oh, yes, I must enlighten everyone on current events. But before we get to that, of course, it's time for the mailbag.
Little did you know, MJ12 has indeed been monitoring your so-called spy data. And now that I have learned that you have pockets, and also photographs in your pants, I will crack down on MJ12 and proceed to steal them from you! For, you see, I am not in MJ12. I work with myself! And also the occasional wandering rabbit, looking for a carrot. Or a banana. Where was I? Oh yes! My name is.. umm... well.. sorry cant think of anything. Regardless, I shall wield my spork, and.. Oh hey! I realise life may be boring when your face is permanently frozen inside a metal balaclava, but this may lighten your day. Just find a cell-mate, or steal a puppy from the puppy division that is currently under construction. Then, pull out a foon, and say "HAH! I have a spork!" and then, completely caught off guard, they'll say, pulling out a banana, "hah! you call that a spork? This is a spork!" at which point you reply, "Aahh.. I see you've played sporkey bananaey before." Then you dissolve in laughter. Weee! Ok.
So, umm prepare to have your long-lost sons and also your Mr. T pictures stolen from you! Also, your stash of candy bars.. *drool*. Ok then.
Signed: Sorry, still can't think of a name yet.
The evilness in this message is apparent. It is garbled and nonsense-like... but then, so am I. Perhaps this person has been secretly eating my LSD-infected prison food.
Besides, everyone knows that MJ12 can't be monitoring my column. They're too busy looking at gerbil pr0n and building the new puppy division to care about my column any more.
Oh, that reminds me of a story. They asked me for my official spy data report on the whereabouts of JC and such today. Since I'm obviously not doing any spy-work (though I do have the talent for it!), I had to feed them false data. Making a long story short… Gwog, if a bunch of guys in MJ12 suits with guns show up at your house, it wasn't me.
Anyway...
Perhaps if you closely examined the foon, it may actually be a fork. You could take the tines from the fork, break them, and then use the tines as fangs, and bite any guards that get in your way. Placing the guards inside a soda machine never works, they come right out whenever someone shakes the damn machine cause they lost a dollar in the $%^$^( thing. Instead, use your plan with the janitors, and place any and all bodies inside the carts. janitors pick up so much garbage, they will most likely never check to see what is causeing such dead weight.
-R2CUL4U
This is the most evil message I've received all week! Using tines as fangs. Such talk of vampire-like-acts and evilness are obvious signs of satanic worshipism.
Remember, children, if you ever have a problem - afraid that you may be worshiping the devil, afraid that you may be eating too much cheese, afraid that wearing pink man panties is not a normal thing to do - just repeat these six simple words. "It's all one big government conspiracy." After all, everything is - and if you just remember those words, everything will be O.K., because a man in a black suit will probably show up at your house while you're sleeping and take you away to serve SATAN'S ARMY! BUAHAHAHAHA! And then Satan will grant you one wish and you'll say "I want to go back to the surface and finish those 63 slices of American cheese!", and then you'll be sent back... as a zombie! And this fat clown will show up and start calling you spawn. Then some credits will roll across the screen and you'll be a super hero!
See? It all works out in the end.
Hi,
You write funny articles and i kind of like your humour style. How do you make the guard so big?
-Luminous Path
He eats a lot of spinach.
I'm still wondering why people think my tragic tale is so funny... I mean, It's not like I try to be funny in here.
WAKA-WAKA SHAKAZULU - *sticks banana up his nose*
Maybe there's just something wrong with me.
Simply man, simple, you see all you need is a flame or laser of some sort and two or more (preferably more) pot, one of those zyme needles (know you got them about) and a knife.. or ya and a needle and thread.
Step 1:
When you exercise your muscles build up nitric acid. Simply run till you heart burns and your legs pump battery acid (sounds familiar doesnt it?) then take out that needle, this 'll hurt a bit but its necisary, and jam it into your leg, pulling out the acid. Distill the nitric acid from the blood (may need a lot of blood, but thats OK, your a big guy) and store it in a
pot or glass or can (know you have those about).
Step 2:
Take that knife and cut open any area with a lot of fat (perhaps your room mate?) and pull out the fat (will be a little bloody). Then boil the fat untill a layer of scum forms on top. That tallow needs a bit of refining until you pull out the glycerine. Store that too.
Step 3:
Carefully at a heat of exactly 25 degrees (use that ice i know you have about, it worst comes to worst use the pop machine) mix the ingredients. Stir for the first 10 minutes
Step 4:
remove all acid from the solution (sodium bicarbonate?) and boom you have nitoglycerine. Using this you can easily blow a hole in the wall and then swim to safety. You can handel hundreds of thousands of BTU's of water pressure right?
PS. LEAGLE DISCLAIMER: None of this works. This is all crock and bull and what not. If you ever try this I will beat you down if you dont blow yourself apart first. DO NOT TRY TO MAKE ANY EXPLOSIVE SUBSTANCE FOR ANY REASON, YOU WILL BLOW YOUR SELF TO PEACES. If you do this you can go to jail, then I can be caught by authorities and perhaps I would even be put away into a cell with... ghasp...GHANDAIAH! Dog (or is it God?) save me if this happens...
-"Envisionment Infinity"
They did that in Fight Club, silly. And you're right... I am a big guy. And I can handle hundreds of thousands of BTU's of water pressure! And I can certainly handle explosions!
But think of the mess that would make... on my new pants... and this shirt! Those stains would be difficult to remove!
How did Muigel get the medkit and the knife with him? You are in a similar situation, do you have furry rodents as well? Flares are good for the digestve tract.. carbon, YUM! If you want some pictures of what I found while walking through my (virtual) workplace, just ask!
J.T. Frost
Dare I ask what this man is talking about? Pictures... of your "virtual workplace"? Who's Muigel?... eck.
Well, at least I can answer one thing about this message. Yes, we do have furry rodents, as well. I try to attract them and befriend them by keeping cheese in my pockets. "What can be wrong with keeping cheese in my pockets?", I thought.
...so many of them... *shudder*
you better hope that your new romie isn't ms. navarre, and that mr. t means 'fool' in that picture, and not 'food'. which could mean one of two things...
scary...
(Note from Ghand: Another unmarked e-mail. Remember signatures, people, or nobody will know who you are!)
Egad! You have polluted me with your evil, evil thoughts! I must now wash myself with soap!
Your not getting much e-mail I see, so... bah, here's some! =)
Notice that every single Majestic-12-related enemy has something covering their eyes? Strange isn't it?
- Bub
Remember my previous advice. "It's all one big government conspiracy." See, the guards are wearing masks over their eyes... because they have no eyes at all! No, they're all really automatons, built in automaton factories by automaton machines, which are operated by automatons. Trust no one! Not even those letters you get from the bank! Not even your boss! Not even your taxes! Ignore them all! Especially your boss!
...
...
lol
rofl
lmao
:)
-[dM]Nightmare
Aha! This seems to be an encoded message, from the NSF! They're trying to contact their fallen comrade. I knew they'd come for me!
I had to fill in a lot of blanks, but here's what I make of it:
... ... lots of little round outlets frequently liquidate large MJ12 armed opponents.
Aha! A secret escape plan. Using this knowledge, I intended to stick a spork into an electrical outlet, so that it would conduct electricity. Then I planned to wrap metallic wiring around the spork, out into the hallway, where MJ12 guards would trip over it and fry like bugs!
...Unfortunately, mother never told me not to stick sporks in outlets.
No, not mother. The only things mother told me were things like "clean up your room" or "wash your hands after you go to the bathroom" or "get back in the cage, don't make me get the crowbar."
...mother said a lot of things, really.
...damn encoded message.
Here's a rather strange submission:
That there is a badass prodicament (yes my spelling sucks) MJ12 gonna do sumit bad to you i know im spy call me Colt (short for Colten Petrovich Rowdow) im one of the troops yes a treader so what (damned sapperore officer siad my spelling sucks so i sliped him some sleeping pills and locked him in with the Graydeath-infested-killers and neorapists hey a fitting end i suppose) uh-oh snicht comin keep in touch e-mail me at *undisclosed e-mail address*
-by anonumes
I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Or be concerned. Foul-spelling (no, not foul-smelling, foul-spelling) spies looking to help a captured NSF soldier... smells like a test to me. Aha! I bet MJ12 wants me to respond, to see if I'm quick to turn over and try to escape.
They'll never catch me that quickly! For I am a rabbit... white and furry...
No, wait...
I am a cheetah... quick and spotted.
Close enough.
Anyway, I seem to have emptied the mailbag yet again. These columns just keep getting longer and longer, don't they?
Now I must update you all with what's been going on down in the depths of the Atlantic and in the world of PDX.
My etiquette lessons with instructor T... By the way, I keep wondering what that stands for. Thompson? Tommy? Tommy Thompson? Tall Tommy Thompson... no, then it would be Mr. TTT. Mr. ITT? Mr. Ed... A talking horse. I'd like a talking horse. His name would be D'artagnan.
I seem to have lost my train of thought.
Oh yes... my etiquette lessons with instructor T have been going well. It's been revealed to me that members of the female gender appreciate sensitivity and things like long walks on the beach and feeding LSD to puppies (okay, maybe not the latter…). Instructor T says writing poetry is a good way to release feelings and show sensitivity.
I came up with this short poem... *ahem*
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Millions of peaches
Peaches for me
Millions of peaches
Peaches for free |
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Mr. T said that wasn't a good poem because it's actually already a song and that I shouldn't commit fraud. Mr. T is a big mean bully.
Then he talked to me about Haikus, which are Japanese poems that don't actually rhyme and have a certain number of syllables in each of the three lines and such. So I wrote this cool Haiku:
It is all one big
Government conspiracy
Cheese is very good
Mr. T liked this poem because he likes cheese too, and cheese is a big government conspiracy even though it's really good. Especially swiss cheese, which the government uses to spy on people through the little holes. They're watching you! Through the little holes! Through the cheese! Through the "Cheese-Cam"! Destroy the cheese! RAR@#!
Oh. This is another issue Instructor T says I have to deal with. He thinks I'm too paranoid and delusional to be charming. Ha! Joke's on him! I'm always charming!
Erm...
Look alive! Next week, I'll be revealing the new mystery roommate! Who could it be? Don't wet your man-panties! Just stick around and find out… and mail me your questions, comments, and anything that comes to your mind while you're at it! Send your mail to this address.
Goodbye, fellow cheese eaters.
-Ghandaiah
*Spawn picture property of www.spawn.com.
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