Ben's Tales of Prime Funkery and Half-Truths

Livin' La Vida Loca...

2008-05-20T23:36:00.000-07:00

So, here's the thing.
I've been getting hounded for the last little while, as it seems that the world over want to know what's been going on in my life.
Well, as a man of many talents, I keep a lot of irons in the fire. So, to speak...
In fact, I'll give you a brief run-down on some of the recent events in my life, just to help you understand just what I mean...
-I was arrested in Salt Lake City, Utah for proclaiming myself the "High Chief Mormon" while wearing a beaded sombrero and no pants. Court date is still pending...
-I punched and wounded a baby panda who was trying to breathe my air. In a fortunate turn of events, at least this one didn't die...
-While engaging in hand-to-hand combat with a ninja/vampire, I was given a nasty infection which lead to me having to drink innocent blood a couple of times. Not that big of deal, but still...
-After having eaten a live penguin, I was mauled by several other penguins. At first it was funny, then later, not so much...
-While listening to the new Justin Timberlake CD, I began vomiting violently until my skull burst into flames and a demon burst out of my colon waving a white flag of surrender. I only made it to track 4 before I decided it wasn't worth the discomfort...
-I urinated, on more than one occasion, into a light socket. Aside from the severely burned groin, I still don't really consider this a bad idea...
-I joined an equal rights, hate group. The idea was to hate everyone equally, but I'm not entirely convinced it'll catch on...
-For a short time I was actually trapped in an alternate reality, which was kind of cool. The only problem being that the women all had really shaggy sideburns...
-I read "War & Peace" while on the toilet. Upon finishing the book, the toilet seat had to be blasted off of my butt with a medium charge of C4 explosives...
-I trekked all the way to the North Pole to hand-deliver my Christmas list to Santa Claus. The jolly ol' elf himself answered to door, wearing nothing but a smile. I'm currently trying to decide if I should convert to Judaism...
-In just under a minute I karate kicked 11 elderly women in the throat. This is a personal best for me, thus far...
-Lastly, for a one-night-only engagement, I joined the legendary rock band AC/DC as their lead singer when Brian Johnson came down with a case of gingivitis. All was going well until I tried to follow-up "Hell's Bells" with a stirring rendition of Barry Manilow's "I Write the Songs"...
See? I'm a busy little beaver.
But, ya know, it's what makes me who I am.
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you better if you were too...

Revenge Is A Dish Best Served With Cheerios...

2008-05-19T00:53:00.000-07:00

I've got a new project I'm starting.
It's gonna be kinda time consuming, so I don't really know how I'll squeeze it in amongst everything else in my life, but I'm sure I'll manage though. I have to. This is something that I don't just want to do,... it's something I MUST do!
Let me kind of start from the beginning here so that you can understand my reasoning for this...
A little over 6 months ago, I was traveling the world as an award winning tick breeder when I met a man named Mortimer Hammerstein.
Mr. Hammerstein is known by many as the 1st man to use a sock as dental floss. But, that wouldn't be his only claim-to-fame.
Indeed, Mortimer Hammerstein would become even more renowned as the man who created the dish, "Oven Baked Cheerios and Liverwurst Surprise".
It was this that really perked my interest.
I met several time with Mr. Hammerstein about licensing the rights to his famous dish to use as a product to advertise on the backs of my ticks in order to stir a little revenue for the both of us. It was an idea I borrowed from NASCAR. Sadly, he wasn't interested.
Not only was he not interested, but he actually assaulted me violently with a roll of linoleum just for suggesting the notion.
In short, I've declared war on Mr. Hammerstein and any meal that involves Cheerios and/or liverwurst!
Thus, my task is this. I must find a means to construct a Cheerio seeking robot from spare parts of old CB radios and ATARI 2600 consoles.
The plan is to make the robot somewhere in the neighborhood of 29.5 feet tall and able to destroy Cheerios from a distance of no less than 60 yards.
Wish me luck! My vengeance depends on it...
So, until next I blog, remember this! I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...

Something This Wrong MUST Be Right...

2008-05-16T00:11:00.000-07:00

It's funny how things catch you when you're not really expecting them.
I mean, like last night for instance...
I was out on the back deck, chopping puppies into stew meat like I do most nights, when I get this feeling... The kind of feeling that something is just wrong.
Feeling the need to investigate, I tossed the rest of the puppy into the pile, put my pants back on, smeared the puppy blood from my face, and inhaled deeply.
Not knowing what to expect, I grabbed my trusty small arms machine gun, a paring knife, and a torch fashioned from a hobby horse and some kerosene soaked rags. Once armed, I made my way down the steps into the dark, luke-warm night.
I looked around my property, searching for signs that something might be out of the ordinary. Upon close inspection I noticed that everything was in it's place. The trash cans were sitting upright, the garage door was locked, the rake was sitting against the fence, the bloodthirsty demon was perched ominously atop my porch. Then I thought to myself, wait(!)... I don't have A RAKE!!!
But no matter, I carried on with my search.
Outside the sanctum of my privacy fence I found dead bodies scattered all over my lawn and the lawns of my neighbors. Monstrous creatures were running through the streets, baying at the moon and eating frozen burritos. Near the mailbox, a semi nude, two headed acrobat was playing the banjo with Flea of Red Hot Chili Peppers fame. While off in the distance, one could hear the sinister voice of Pat Sajak demanding that some unsuspecting fool purchase a vowel.
So, I turned back and shut the gate as nothing seemed abnormal.
I just couldn't put my finger on it...
I gave a half-hearted high-five as I passed the demon again, now feasting on someone's baby. I was perplexed...
This feeling wouldn't leave me.
I pulled out my list of things to do for the day... and each item was checked off. I asked my wife, and over the deafening noise of her band saw she mouthed the words "Shut up.".
What was it? What was it..?
Just then, atomic powered robot samurai burst through the fence and tried to assassinate me. I fought them off valiantly, just like the night before and last Tuesday too...
Outside the gate I could hear elephants trampling crippled people...
What was it..?
Then, as I fired off several rounds from my firearm into the night sky, Santa Claus landed in his flamboyantly decorated sleigh, adorned with silver and rhinestones. At first I was glad, then, after he gave me a low blow and a piledriver, not so much...
For the life of me I couldn't understand why I can defeat robot samurai but not Father Christmas...
What was it..? What was it?!!
Then, as the Earth split in two and Hellfire burst forth from the ground I remembered!!! I'd forgotten to mail off the property taxes! CRAP!!!

So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you better if you were too...

Those That Control Us...

2008-05-13T23:57:00.000-07:00

I missed a night of blogging!
It wasn't my fault,... I assure you.
No. In fact, I can tell you exactly what happened. So, sit back, grab a refreshing cola beverage and a turnip and check this out...
It was late. The world was quiet and I was all ready to do my evening blog.
I'd just went through my typical pre-blog ritual of pulling my socks up knee high, putting on one rhinestone covered glove, and drinking milk out of Sitting Bull's skull when I noticed something was amiss.
As I did my dynamic "King of All Sex" pose, I looked up and noticed the ceiling was dripping blood.
Now, make no mistake. The house is kinda old and sometimes it just does that,... but rarely on a Monday!
Then, as I turned on the monitor, the sound of 1,000 screaming hermaphrodites ripped through the silence!!!
Again,... it's happened before, but it's not an every day thing.
Finally, in the radioactive glow of my flat screen monitor, it happened!
The severed, floating head of Richard Simmons entered through the doorway, eye sockets dripping with blood, and chomping in a Pac-Man like manner.
The anti-fat guru's head turned as I watched and went straight to the wireless receiver for my internet service and DEVOURED it in one massive CHOMP!!!
As quick as that, my internet service was NO MORE...
As the vile head turned and floated away, still chomping the air, I wept bitterly.
So, long story short. It took till this morning to get service back.
Stupid Richard Simmons head...
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...

Maternal Memories...

2008-05-11T14:02:00.000-07:00

I remember my mother with a certain fondness.
She was far from typical, and certainly a bit unorthodox in her child rearing...
For instance, this one time, I stopped along the road on the way back from the bus stop to pick her some wild flowers.
Anyway,... I got home and it turned out she was allergic to this particular flower. So, of course she did what all mothers would do...
She shoved a screwdriver into my lung and laughed maniacally as it filled with blood.
Honestly, after a month and a half of hospitalization, I think she felt kinda bad.
There was another occasion, where her intentions were questioned, but I think she had the best of intentions...
See, she had pretty high expectations for me. So, one day she told me to go out and wash the car.
Never having the greatest eyesight, it turns out I missed some lady bug guts that'd kinda lodged up underneath the headlight.
Well, knowing in her heart that I was capable of better, she made me bathe in a tub of broken beer bottles for the rest of the month.
Ya know what? The next time I washed the car,... I did better.
Uhhh, anyway...
Yeah, kudos to all you moms out there. Much love indeed.
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you better if you were too...

History Lesson...

2008-05-10T22:13:00.000-07:00

Very few people know this, but I was actually one of the 1st settlers to come to the Americas way back in the 1970's...
Yup. My homies and I were all hangin' out back home in England when I decided that I was tired of never being allowed to worship freely within the structured doctrines of the Church of England.
It wasn't even so much that I didn't like the sermon or the church itself, it's that they'd never let me on the pony rides after the service because I wasn't taller than the line on the chart. That was whack!
So, after I spray painted the words "Ben Wuz Here" on the back door of Buckingham Palace, my boys and I decided to bail.
We went down to the marina and found these houseboats that were goin' 3 for the price of 1, so we snagged 'em at THAT price and decided to go discover America.
After some sweet paint jobs, a little chrome, and a "Calvin peein' on England" decal, we were ready to rock n' roll. In the tradition of the great mariners of our time, we 1st christened the boats with a bottle of Cristal and dubbed them the Niña , the Pinta, and the Santa Claus...
So yeah, we sailed hard for 2 or 3 days before we ever saw land.
Once we landed, one of the other guys and I got into a fight as to where we were. He swore up and down it was San Salvador, but I was pretty sure it was Cleveland. I got tired of his lip so I wrapped him in fly paper covered in used tampons and beat him mercilessly with a bag of doorknobs.
Later we put on funny hats we found in my grandmother's attic and met some Indians. They were a little frightened at first, but once I explained that we were here to take their land from beneath them and thin their population by 80% they livened up a little. One was named Earl. He was pretty cool.
They taught us how to grow food on the land and how to kill wild game. In exchange, we did their taxes for them and taught them about underpants...
So anyway, I met Pocahontas and we decided to unionize and start a holiday. We called it Thanksgiving because Chinese New Year was already taken...
I guess that's pretty much how Thanksgiving got it's start. Oh, and then we killed Indians and drained the land of most of it's natural resources...
Consider yourself informed...
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis and I'd like you much better if you were too...

Public Service Announcement ...

2008-05-10T00:47:00.000-07:00

Parents, have you ever wanted to hit your young child utilizing a board with a nail in it?
The councilors at the KBN (Kids, Boards, and Nails) Center For Parents are there, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week (except on Arbor Day) to take your call.
We have a highly trained staff of licensed councilors who, just like you, have had to fight the urge to bash a child in the cranium using a board with a nail in it. So, they know what you're going through,... and they can help.
The next time your child, or a child in your neighborhood acts up, remember, boards with nails aren't always the right answer.
If you'd like to speak with one of our councilors, call now. Don't delay. If we can just stop one child from being beaten by a board with a nail in it, it's all worth it.
Our number is 1-877-HIT-KIDS. That's 1-877-448-5497. Call now. Our highly trained representatives are awaiting your call.
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too.

Afternoon In Hell...

2008-05-09T00:17:00.000-07:00

It's amazing the things you notice if you just pay attention.
I mean, I was walking around in the bowels of Hell earlier and some things just became glaringly apparent.
First. Hell stinks. Not just figuratively, but it smells like sulfur.
Next. All the condemned souls WON'T shut-up! Yeah, eternal torment,.. I get it. So, stop all the screamin' and teeth gnashing.
Also, the dress code really isn't what I expected. In fact, it's very similar to that of Wal-Mart. Khakis and polos. I guess the misery of wearing khakis for all eternity would really be a pretty atrocious punishment. Damnation indeed...
But lastly, the devil is a little different than I expected.
Yeah, it's true that he does have the neatly groomed goatee and all that. Surprisingly, even in this day and age, he still manages to pull off the cape look pretty well too...
What seemed weird though, is the fact that you NEVER see the guy without a bottle of man's greatest mistake in his hand. Crystal Pepsi (tm). I mean,... gross. Seriously.
So, at the end of my tour of Hell, ol' Scratch asked me what I thought of the place. But, in doing so, he breathed Crystal Pepsi (tm) all in my face.
With this, I did what any red-blooded America would do. I mule-kicked Satan in the genital region. He totally should have saw that coming...
Instead, he wept aloud and clasped his junk as tears rolled down his face. What a wuss...
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...

The Hat Makes the Man...

2008-05-08T00:22:00.000-07:00

I had a near tragic experience this evening!
See, I was out sunbathing nude atop the hood of my neighbor's righteous, cherry red Camaro this afternoon, when the police showed up...
Being shy as I am, I covered my neither-region with the latest issue of HIGHLIGHTS For Kids and lept upright!
The eleven man police force before me drew their weapons, and the officer in charge demanded, "Drop the latest issue of HIGHLIGHTS For Kids, and put your hands on the hood of the car!".
"Great.", I thought to myself,... "I'm gonna end up in the tabloids again.".
It was then I remembered something of grave importance! Tonight was free potato salad night at Butch's Vittle Trough!!!
Knowing that free potato salad night officially began at 4:00pm, I knew I had to act fast, as the 'tater salad went FAST!
So, realizing that my hunger outweighed my concern for the current situation, I incinerated the officers of the law with a dreadful blast of my Optic Death Ray and sashayed my way into the house...
Quickly, I dressed in my finest potato salad eating attire, and stepped into the bathroom to check my hair in the mirror. It was THEN that my problem occurred!
MY HAIR LOOKED ATROCIOUS!!!
I started to panic, as there is only one rule for dining at Butch's Vittle Trough. The rule? Your head must be delightful in appearance!
Butch wouldn't even allow me into the parking lot looking like this! He'd probably do like he did last time, and shoot out my tires en route, causing my vehicle to spin erratically off of the road and burst into flames... That was a DRAG!
It was then, my best friend, the evil Professor Beelzebub called. He demanded, "Just throw the first thing you see on your head and get here NOW, the 'tater salad came early!!!".
So, in haste, I did just that! I grabbed a random octopus I'd found in the bathtub, and shoved in violently onto my cranium!!!
Good thing I did too.
When I arrived at Butch's Vittle Trough, I was met with a stirring round of applause for my bold and innovative fashion statement. It was wonderful...
That is until I found out the 'tater salad was gone... Then I just died a little inside.
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...

Terror of the Undead...

2008-05-06T22:33:00.000-07:00

This past evening, after attaining copious amounts of lunch meat from perfect strangers and running, coward-like, from the one legged man with the shotgun who lives 2 streets over, I felt unfulfilled...
I couldn't yet tell what was bothering me, but something certainly was.
I pondered this as I removed my pants and did a fairly impressive hand-stand...
After some time I came up with something I was certain would be fulfilling. I'd kill me a vampire!!!
So, I grabbed my handy-dandy backpack full of vampire slaying regalia and headed out into the night looking for even the tiniest sign that a vampire could possibly be in the area. Ultimately, after walking just past the mailbox, I saw a sign on the neighbor's door that read, "Home of Count Wilbur: Vampire Extraordinaire". It led me to believe that it just might be a clue...
So, in true vampire hunter fashion, I ran, screaming at his door and drop kicked it open!
Inside, that demonic bloodsucker, Count Wilber was sitting cross-legged on his sofa, eating Vienna Sausages.
I cried out, "Prepare, DEMON, for battle! Your murderous days are over!!!".
Count Wilber looked up from his sausage tin and quipped back, "Wha..?".
While I had the beast confused, I decided to strike!
The long and short of it is, I did battle with and killed the evil creature of the night! Even though Count Wilbur was a 67th degree black belt in Tai Kwan Stink, an ancient battle art utilizing hand-to-hand combat skills with subtle bursts of breaking wind.
It was after I'd staked him to the ground with a stake and mallet, then kicked his right ear clean off the side of his head that I found his list of potential victims.
On it were the following names. Oprah Winfrey, Charles Manson, Hilary Clinton, Tom Cruise, Steve (I don't know Steve...), and the Devil. Oh(!), how could I make this mistake?! Count Wilbur was not a villain, but instead a hero bound to rid the world of it's greatest EVIL!!! Because of me, Tom Cruise lives and the world still quakes in fear within his tiny little shadow...
CURSES!!! That's typical of my luck.
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...

A Poe Introspection...

2008-05-05T23:41:00.000-07:00

I don't know whether you've heard, but it finally happened...
Last night I was sitting at home, sometime just after midnight. A sound came from outdoors as I was changing clothes following a long night of punching babies in and around my community.
I finished dressing, strapped on a viking helmet and glided elegantly to the door.
As I stood, tall and strapping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor." I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.".
So I peered out the peephole, and cried out, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was crapping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you.", here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
I thought aloud, "What the blue Hell is this? Some foolish neighbor children attempting to draw my ire?".
So, I did the safe thing and reached behind my door and pulled out my rifle. I fired several shots into the darkness and listened between each one for wounded screaming, but it never came...
Now I was puzzled to say the least. Who could this fool be that had knocked on my door? What manner of nonsense is this?
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"
Merely this and nothing more.
Now I was just getting irate! Everybody knows from here to the Missouri/Arkansas border that I have only ONE rule! One very simple rule. That rule being, never, and I mean NEVER(!) stand outside my home and say the name "Lenore"!
Reparations of the situation must be made. This will not do. Not at all!
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
"What can I do to stop this foolishness?!", I queried aloud. "If I find out who's makin' all this racket, I'm gonna give 'em a colonic irrigation with the aid of a bottle of Scotch and a garden rake!".
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Jehovah's Witness of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
I just stood, completely beside myself. "What in theeee devil do you think you're doing?!", I demanded of the missionary. "Get off of my bust of Pallas! Do you have any idea how much that thing's worth?!!".
Then this pushy fellow beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and lost soul savin' wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the Jehovah's Witness, "Nevermore.".
I stood, perplexed. It didn't take long before I lost interest in the mumblings of this Jehovah's Witness, and instead went and prepared a lovely sandwich. A sandwich which I greatly enjoyed with a tall glass of ice cold milk.
Once I'd finished, I couldn't help but Moonwalk back into the living room pondering, "Nevermore? What could this mean?".
But the Jehovah's Witness, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the dude said, "Nevermore.".
It was then that I received a phone call from Ringo asking if I'd like to reform the Beatles. I politely declined...
So, I sat down in my big poofy chair and got back to the task at hand.
There I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the guy whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the Jehovah's Witness, "Nevermore.".
"This is making me tired...", I complained as I spun around in my chair while looking at the ceiling.
By this point I was pretty sure that all I would be able to do was wrap this guy in a rug and beat him with a sack of drunk kittens. But where would I find a place at this hour willing to sell alcohol to baby cats?
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if dude or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!".
Quoth the Jehovah's Witness, "Nevermore.".
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if dude or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?".
Quoth the Jehovah's Witness, "Nevermore.".
I was getting nowhere with this. So, I did what I usually do in such situations. I kicked a crippled puppy.
I then yelled back at my unwelcome friend!
"Be that word our sign of parting, fool or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no monthly publication as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy judging words from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the Jehovah's Witness, "Nevermore.".
And the dork, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
"No wait!", I rationalized. "Screw this!".
Then I stripped down to my underpants and defeated the Jehovah's Witness in a karate duel. Afterwards, he left.
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...

Christmas In... MAY?!!

2008-05-04T15:22:00.000-07:00

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I figure you should hear it from me instead of seeing it on the evening news.
Alright. Where to start..?
So, here's what happened.
Earlier tonight, I was sitting home, enjoying a refreshing beverage when I heard a knock at the door.
My initial reaction was to ignore it and just continue sipping my delicious drink, but the knocking continued for some time. I was getting a little annoyed, figuring it was that starving kid again. So I scurried under my bed, waiting for him to either collapse from a lack of nourishment or move on to the next house.
Then I heard a deep, musky voice call out,"I know when you're sleeping! I know when you're awake!". He then continued, "I know when you've been bad or good, so OPEN the @*$@&! for goodness sake!!!".
Hmmm, the starving kid sounded big. Mean too! "Perhaps I should go slap him about the brow and throat areas.", I thought to myself.
After draining the last of my lovely and fulfilling beverage, I threw on a pair of Speedos and my favorite suspenders and headed to the door.
I flung it open, expecting to find the hungry kid, whithered and frail as per typical, but alas, 'twas not! No sir! It was ol' Kris Kringle himself. Out of season, even!
He stood at my door, a musket rifle in one hand and several severed heads being grasped by their blood soaked hair in the other. His beard was stained red, and there were meaty remnants all throughout it. His eyes were glassy and sunken, and his teeth sharpened to a fine point.
Crap! This was NOT good...
His fanged teeth glistened in the glow of the porch light as he exclaimed, "I've checked my list twiiiiiiiiiice. It says you've been good this year.".
I stood, vexed at this entire scenario. "Ooooookay. Thanks. Gotta go now.", I said and began to shut the door.
Just then, he kicked the door back open! I screamed like a girl as he stepped across the threshold.
"Good enough to DIE!!!", he bellowed in a not very darn jolly way!
He grabbed me by the throat and started to choke me! He began muttering the name of nearly every Christmas gift he'd gotten me over the years. As he did, his jagged teeth moved ever closer to the tender, juicy meat of my throat.
It was then that I remembered the "Santa Claus: Kit O' Death" I always kept in my Speedos!
I reached in, barely able to breath, and pulled out a 27lbs. fruit cake and repeatedly bludgeoned the morbidly obese gift bearer with it. Then, once he'd released his death grip and fallen to the floor, I set him ablaze with my self-lighting yule log (which it is WAY too hot for)!
The house still wreaks from Santa's smoldering bones.
So yeah, sorry kids. I killed Santa Claus.

An Ode To Herman...

2008-05-03T20:34:00.000-07:00

So, there’s this guy named Herman. He works in that store that sells nothing but day-old corn dogs... You know the one. It's right next to "Fat Pantz 4 Phat Girlz".
Anyway, Herman works near the Home For Club-Footed, Substance Abusing Albino Midgets where the ever elusive, woman of his dreams is a resident. Her name is May Belle.
On a certain day, Herman saw May Belle outside the Home, kind of stumbling around. His mind wandered for a bit, then he decided that he’s been fate’s pawn too long, and that from here on out, he was gonna control his own destiny. Thus, he MUST go meet her!
So, Herman Aurillius Porter, ran quickly to the back of the corn dog shop! He rifled around in an old box, with a half-dead pig laying atop it, wheezing. After a moment he pulled out the two things he knew would improve his chances with May Belle. A fake mustache and his best clip-on tie!
Herman exited the shop at a sprint and crossed the busy, mid-day traffic. A cool breeze was blowing, making his fake mustache tickle his enormous nose.
Just as he reached the courtyard of the Home For Club-Footed, Substance Abusing Albino Midgets, he noticed the citizens of the community. A panic had came over them. They scattered like fat ladies at a salad bar.
Herman and May Belle made brief eye contact, then both, simultaneously looked away as a roar, unlike any known to human ears was heard. Not only was it loud,... but it was CLOSE! Knowing that his one and only chance to impress his dream girl rested in the balance, Herman ran to her side, pushing several elderly people to the ground, and to certain death in the process.
He scooped her up, slightly wincing from the weight of her 33lbs. frame, and hopped atop the hood of a Volvo, hoping for a look at the monster!
Herman got exactly what he desired!
Towering above the "Urinal Emporium" stood a beast with hideous fangs, dripping acidic saliva that destroyed everything it touched! His body was covered in armored plates, and he had claws that could slash through an armored truck! Fire shot out his ears and the beast’s tail was like that of a mighty dinosaur!
All things considered, the situation looked bad. But, more than the monster's physical traits, one thing seemed the most horrifying. That thing? The beast was wearing a t-shirt with Oprah Winfrey inside a colossal pink heart on the front!!!
With the monster poised to destroy everything and everyone it’s wake, Herman pondered what to do next...
It was then that May Belle whispered something to Herman that would forever change his life.
In a garbled, somewhat incoherent voice, she said this. "Tuuuuuuesadaaay iiis wahhhffle daaay.".
Herman realized that for the love of his sweet May Belle, he MUST defeat this beast so that she can have her life-sustaining WAFFLES!!!
So, summoning all of his strength, Herman lept some 25 feet into the air, un-holstered his atomic death ray, and... was promptly devoured by the beast-man.
Simple proof that nothing or no one can stop anything even remotely associated with the awesome power of Oprah...
Oh yeah, and several months later May Belle married Bernie, the guy who owns the "Urinal Emporium". She then contracted a life-threatening rash. But, I digress...
Anyway...
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis and I'd like you much better if you were too...

Cometh the Ice Man...

2008-05-02T21:38:00.000-07:00

Okay. I hope I'm not alone in this. Tell me if this has ever happened to you...
So, I was perched, hawk-like atop my chimney, finishing off a lovely bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, when I saw the oddest thing...
I saw a man with high standing hair and shiny, baggy pants standing in my driveway, thrusting his groin in random directions. All the while, maintaining a stone cold demeanor...
I tossed my bowl violently away, causing serious head trauma to a nearby neighbor child.
I then stood stoically, straightened my bolo tie and in a voice more articulate than the late, great Charlton Heston, I cried out,"You! Sir! The man with the thrusting groin! Why do you tarry so long in my driveway?! Don't you have other places at which to go and thrust your genitals?!!".
He whipped his head around, acknowledging my powerful voice. Then(!), as quickly as he's turned to me, he again turned away and began thrusting his groin even more forcefully than before! He clenched his teeth and held tight his fists and continued on as I pondered my next move...
Of course, being the humanitarian that I am, I chose to give his one last chance before lashing out destructively.
I again called to him. "Good fellow!", I beckoned. " I have no qualm with you, friend! I simply request that you take your leave of this place and with you take your thrusting loins!!!".
Sweat beaded on his brow as he thrusted all the harder. His eyes staring straight ahead and his breathing was now becoming more and more labored...
Now, finally I'd taken all that my strong willed spirit would allow.
"What is it you want from me villain?!!", I screamed. "The time for peace has passed, good sir! Now, prepare to taste my blade!!!". With this, I drew my Cutlass from it's sheath and lept high into the air!
At once he turned and called out, "Alright STOP!!!", and I paused in mid air to hear what he said next. He proceeded on with, "... collaborate and listen.".
Now I was intrigued. I listened further, still airborne, high above the trees...
"Ice is back with my brand new invention.", he continued. " Somethin'... grabs a hold of me tightly. Flow like a harpoon, daily and nightly.".
I asked of him, " Will it ever stop?!".
"Yo, I don't know!", he quipped back. "Turn off the lights,... and I'll glow!".
This man was no mere mortal. Mere mortals DO NOT GLOW!!!
"To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal, light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle.", the man with the tall hair and groin of many thrusts pompously declared. I was intrigued, so much so that I decided to simply let him say his piece.
"Dance! Go rush to the speaker that booms, I'm killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom. Deadly(!) when I play a dope melody. Anything less than the best is a felony.
Love it or leave it you better gain weight, you better hit bull's eye the kid don't play! If there was a problem yo I'll solve it, check out the hook while my DJ revolves it...".
Finally, it all made sense! I remembered many, many years ago I crossed paths with this man. Nay! THIS MONSTER!!!
It was none other than that diabolical and overly caucasian, VANILLA ICE!!!
How, after all these years he'd found me, I knew not! But certainly, I mustn't allow him to do what evil he had set forth to do!
Again, he clenched his fists and ground his teeth and began thrusting his groin. Not randomly anymore, but instead, at ME!
Now, I was consumed by rage!!! I continued my descent to the ground below and landed, blade in hand, a mere 4ft 3.5in from the Vanilla one...
Then, just as we prepared to engage in mortal combat,... the ground split open and sulfer and steam poured forth!
In an instant, the devil himself ascended from the fiery depths of Hell and stood between us, spaded tail whipping in the wind!
In a voice like a thousand damned souls, the Dark Lord turned to me and spoke these words,... "Hey Ben.".
"Hey.", I replied.
Then, he turned to Vanilla Ice, jabbed his trident into his abdomen and hissed,"Don't you have some more toilets to lick on the the 9th level..?". Then, without awaiting an answer, Satan laughed with terrible delight as he and the "Ice Man" descended back into that infernal pit, the smell of brimstone still in the air...
I shuddered and climbed back to my chimney,... awaiting the next bowl of cereal...
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...

Saucers, amd Twinkies, and Martians. Oh, my!!!

2008-05-01T21:22:00.000-07:00

Do you know what today is?
No?!
Seriously?!!
Today could very well be one of the most important days in the history of man!
Yes, that's right. Today is the day... that I SAVED THE WORLD!!!
Was it on the news? No. Is it causing a big buzz? No. Why? Because no one else was there... Thanks for the support neighbors!
Anyway. Here's what happened...
I had just finished seeing how many neighborhood felines I could pack into a blender (with Guava juice), when the phone rang.
I hit the mince button and flipped open my cell. On the other end was none other than the ghost of former star of stage and screen, George Burns!
He introduced himself and I replied, "What the dizz, G-Bizzle?!". Then,... the tone turned serious...
He began by telling me of a nefarious plot hatched decades ago by our government to send a group of NAVY men through a rift in the fabric of time, using a wormhole in the thermal field caused by a pattern of high vibration frequencies. They called the mission the "Philadelphia Experiment". The objective was to send these men through the wormhole, to a point some 3 minutes into the future on the planet Mars!!! Once there, a 6 man platoon was to breech the parameter around their high palace and steal their entire supply of Hostess Twinkies, once inside.
They'd then rendezvous back at the original location of the wormhole and pass back through, 3 minutes into the past, back on Earth!
Well,... this happened. Sort of...
Tragically, no one passed back through the wormhole, as they were evidentially lost in the flux, but... the Twinkies made it through. Unharmed!!!
This served as a springboard to promote Dr. Edmond Alessi's theory that Twinkie's are made of an indestructible crust, of obvious extra terrestrial origin! That,... and provide a delicious snack for the science corp. of the United States NAVY!
Well,... to get back to my original story. After I hung up the phone on George Burns' ghost, I poured myself a nice, tall glass of kitten and involuntarily reached into my magic box of treats and produced a... TWINKIE!!!
It was so golden and tempting that I could not resist it's exquisite appeal! As if possessed by some slightly hungry demon, I peeled back the wrapper and sunk my teeth into it's moist, goo filled form! It was so delicious that I followed with another bite, then yet ANOTHER!!! I probably would have taken more bites,... but Twinkies are only about 3 bites long!!!
I chased it down with a refreshing swallow of minced kitty and Guava...
It was then that the roof of my house was ripped from the walls and a sound like a tornado roared through it's inner rooms!
I looked up, shielding my eyes from the debris, and saw what I feared even more than my own reflection in a thong! It was a huge saucer with pulsing lights scattered all over it's surface!
It was causing a vacuum and I could feel myself being lifted into the air...
A large, tri-segmented hatch opened and I was taken up into the craft.
Once inside, I felt a bit disoriented, and while I could see three bi-pedal forms standing before me, I could not make out details, as the light was nearly blindingly bright.
I called out to them, "What do you want with me..?".
They replied in their native tongue, but soon after, a very synthetic sounding voice translated. The Martian had said, "We have come to take back that which is ours. The Twinkies!".
Still blinded, I replied, "Why the Twinkies?! For, they are merely a tasty snack! They are of no consequence...".
Immediately, the Martians became agitated!!! Another cried out, "Murderer!". I was perplexed.
"Murderer?!", I snapped back. "Whom have I murdered?!".
A noticeable sobbing could be heard. Then, the first answered. "You animal! You fiend! These are not for human consumption! Twinkies are Martian offspring!!!".
A sick feeling passed over me as the light faded and for the first time I could see the gray skinned beings. They loomed over me, but yet, seemed mournful.
"We must...", began the third Martian, "destroy the Earth for this atrocity! We must destroy it, as you earthlings have destroyed our young!!!".
Suddenly, a rumbling sound began and I knew right away I hadn't much time!
Quick as a hiccup I leapt through the air and kicked the leader's head straight off his neck! His body stood, squirting a yellow fluid out of the stump of a neck for a few seconds, before collapsing.
The other two Martians stared in horror!
Then, as like lightning, I grabbed the severed head and launched it at the Martian on the right! The head tore a massive hole in his chest and he too, collapsed!!!
The final Martian stood, still in shock. When reality set in, it was TOO LATE!!! I'd already fashioned a crude weapon from the two arms I'd ripped off of the second body and my belt! I struck him no less than 249 times, until he was DEAD!
The saucer then crashed back to Earth!
I made it out with only a slight bruise and a hole in my sock.
But, the Earth had been spared and humanity was again free to consume Martian babies as delightful snack-time treats!
Aside from the huge flying saucer in my side yard, the 'hood was none-the-wiser to the dramatic goings-on.
However... some 3 hours later a Hostess truck pulled up to my residence with a lifetime supply of Hostess Twinkies and other assorted snacks. All a gift to me... Hmmmm....
Point is. I saved the Earth. You're welcome.

So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...

Come On In, the Radiation Is Fine...

2008-04-30T22:48:00.000-07:00

It's true. You do learn something new everyday.
Like today, for instance It's true. You do learn something new everyday.
Like today, for instance. I learned that unlike in the comic books and science fiction, prolonged exposure to pretty much any form of radiation should come highly unrecommended!
I mean, it's not like it was that great of idea to begin with, but here's what happened...
It was a pretty average day when that 18 wheeler packed up, into my lawn. The whole truck was white,... everything. I have no idea why. It also had an eerie glow about it, but I digress...
Anyway, so this truck backed up to my yard and some guy in a white suit and a funky mask started rolling these big drums off of the trailer in some kinda real hurry. Like he was afraid I'd notice,... even though I was just standing there eating a delicious muffin.
Then, just as quick as he arrived, the guy in the big white truck was gone.
At first I just didn't care. Living as close to the highway as I do, trash being thrown into my yard was nothing new. So, I just went inside and cooked several dozen fried bologna sandwiches... just in case!
A couple hours passed and the itching started. Not your normal itching either. Not like crabs or herpes or anything. It was kinda like a trillion and six little mosquito bites. Next thing I know, I'm naked as the day I was born, violently scratching my entire body with a tuning fork!!! Now, usually I'm not that itchy, so it occurred to me that something must be different.
It was only once I staggered my nude, bleeding self outside and tripped over one of the ominous drums (causing minor brain damage...), that it occurred to me. It was the drums that were new!!!
So, like anyone with the intelligence of a sea slug would do, I grabbed my trusty 9lbs. sledge hammer and started wailing away on one of the containers.
Within only a couple of minutes, one of the drums burst, covering me in a gelatinous, orange substance.
Of course, my first reaction was like that of anyone else in that situation,... I licked it. Numerous times.
When I awoke I was actually a little excited about my experience!
I thought that maybe that orange stuff would give me some sort of great and wonderous powers. Something amazing, like the ability to shoot webs, or change my body mass, or become invisible at will. Ya know, something I could use. Heck, I'd have been happy with gills or even a second set of arms... But NOOOOO! Not me, I can't get covered in radiation and get a GOOD super power. All I got was a lot of internal blistering and a month-long case of shrieking, acidic diarrhea!!! THANKS RADIATION!
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too....

The Week In Retrospect...

2008-04-29T20:59:00.000-07:00

I lead a pretty average life. To prove this point, and for lack of anything interesting to write, I'll give you an example of the ultra-boring goings-on of the last week.
Prepare to be left feeling sorry for me and the otherwise feeble existence I lead...
Let's see, I guess we start at the start...

Sunday: Sunday is the day of rest, so basically I did two things.
First, I went to church, then I spent the remainder of the day licking pancake syrup off of my own chest.

Monday: Monday was pretty normal up till about noon when I found that 450lbs. albino tryin' to squeeze into my dirty underwear after having burst through my wall just like the Kool-Aid man.
I tried to calmly explain to him that there's no way his 58 inch thighs were gonna squeeze into my WAY sexy boxer briefs, but he seemed rather intent on trying, just the same.
After a brief interlude, I sprayed him in the eyes with wasp spray then beat him about the brow and throat with nunchaku (... or "numchucks" for the simple minded folk) for darn near a coon's age.
Then,... his cell phone rang. I stopped beating on him, because that would be rude to do so while he was carrying on a conversation.
Sadly, he must have gotten bad news, because when he ended his call, he turned to me and started vomiting live chickens. This was scary. So much so as I covered my eyes...
Finally, I resigned myself to one less pair of underwear and just went in the other room.

Tuesday: About 3:30pm on Tuesday, I got a call from Batman. He wanted to know whether or not I'd like to fill in for him while he was on vacation in the Netherlands (... I suspect that he smokes Marijuana).
I briefly entertained the notion, then asked him what costume I'd be wearing. To which he informed me that the only one he had clean was the Adam West suit from the 60's TV program.
I politely declined, as I didn't want to look like some sort of stooge, then I laid on the ground and did the "Curly Shuffle" until dinner.

Wednesday: I woke early Wednesday morning to the sound of the albino underwear thief shrieking at the top of his lungs. This is typical with crazed albinos...
I asked him what was he was acting like a fool for. He just pointed at a small man in a plaid track suit, who happened to be displaying to the albino, a picture of Rosie O'Donnell in the nude.
I too was bothered by this.
Thusly, I promptly left the room and came back several moments later with a Rambo-style hunting knife and murdered them both on the spot.
I felt bad at first,... then I remembered I had Cookie Crisp.

Thursday: Aside from accidentally eating a half a bag of charcoal and drinking several cleaning products, nothing too amazing happened on Thursday.
I did get sick and die for a little while though...
Someone should really put a warning on those things!

Friday: Friday, I woke up about 9am to the foulest smell EVER!
I couldn't remember what I ate, but I was pretty sure it wasn't me. Then I remembered the albino and the little man in the track suit still laying dead on my floor.
I called my wife to come get rid of them. She cried for a while, but I told her to suck it up, SOMEONE had to clean up that mess! I wasn't touching it, that was for sure!

Saturday: Saturday was WAY boring.
The only thing that happened the whole day was when I tricked all those kids into going down into the cellar where I keep all the flesh eating Pandas. Pfft! I just did that for lack of anything better to do.
Oh yeah! There was the maniac who showed up and demanded that I make him a tuna sandwich. He was insistent too! He kept shooting in the air and stuff. He even stripped down to the waist and rolled around in broken glass while counting in Latin.
I got tired of his crap and just gave him the stupid sandwich. I did spit in it though... That'll teach him.

Well, that's pretty much my week. I hope this next one is more interesting.
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...

To the Moon Alice! To the MOON!!!

2008-04-28T14:30:00.000-07:00

In the interest of intergalactic conquest, I took a little trip this past weekend. See,... I'd been building this rocket out in my backyard for some time now. But, being that I'm on a pretty tight budget, and had no formal knowledge of how to actually construct a rocket, it was a bit rickety. Still, my rocket made of chicken wire and burlap sacks was due to launch TODAY.
As I donned my spacesuit (hand-painted track suit), I thought of all the possibilities that could be achieved through my brave and ambitious mission. Scenarios raced through my mind as I placed the flower pot helmet onto my head.
The time had came. I mounted my rocket saddle, wrapped the bungee cord around my waist, and started the detonation process. People came from blocks around to watch me as I prepared my amazing adventure.
I'd concluded just prior to lift-off that my first course of action would be to conquer and imprison the dreaded "Moon-Men". It seemed like the logical thing to do, being that they're most likely evil and all... This would assuredly lead to much celebration among my fellow Earthlings. In fact, it was proclaimed by the guy who eats out of my garbage can that I'd most likely be immortalized on Mt. Rushmore. It made sense...
With mere seconds left till launch I began to notice the oddest odor. As I glanced around I wondered if it was something important, I resolved in short order that it must not be. However, I was mistaken...
It turns out that the fuse to the propulsion device (bleach bomb), had actually started a fire on the burlap sacks which made-up the outer shell of my craft. The fire spread quickly... It was just as I'd began to second-guess my decision that the propulsion device ignited and promptly exploded. It seemed that I'd made a minor calculation in the construction of my rocket, as rather than propelling my ship upward, the explosion actually sent me several hundred feet away from the rocket, catching the crotch of my snazzy spacesuit on fire in the process. Now, in a typical flaming crotch situation I wouldn't really panic. Instead, I'd just extinguish the inferno.
Alas, the situation was indeed different this time around. You see, the blast actually sent me through a fence, some small trees, two car windows, and the side of a house before I finally touched-down. In doing so, both of my arms were popped out-of-joint. While that is a blessing in that they weren't broke, it actually made crotch-fire extinguishing a bit difficult. Also, the fire spread up my body pretty quickly as well, since I was now covered in the bleach from the propulsion device... Oh, and my spacesuit was also made of rayon, which of course, is flammable. I should consider myself lucky though. It only took forty-seven minutes for the fire department to arrive and put me out. I'd hoped that a kindly neighbor would have lent a hand, but it seemed that they all had to get back to their dinners. Now, as I prepare to slather a bit of aloe on my grotesquely burned body, I think to myself, "Maybe I'll just try to conquer that school for blind kids instead...".
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...

Unwelcome Visitor or How I Learned To Lick A Brick and Like It

2008-04-27T23:20:00.000-07:00

Crimeny! Okay, get this...
Just like 12 and a half minutes ago I was sitting on the couch, chewing on my toenails, when a brick came crashing through the window! At first I was startled, then... I lost my train of thought and went back to chewing my toenails...
A couple of minutes later, another brick crashed through the other window!
More accurately, it actually landed directly on my sweet pickle and applesauce sandwich... On the brick, there was a note.
After licking off the goodness smooshed all over the brick, I peeled the moist note off and read it...
The note bore the message, "See other brick.", which I did. The other brick had no tasty treat to lick off of it, thusly I wasn't nearly as fond of it... I did read it however. It said, " There's a killer in the house! Get out!!!".
I thought about this for a moment. Then slowly I stood up, as to make as little noise as possible. Then, ever so carefully, I reached down and scratched my buttocks.
"Hmmmmmmm. A killer?", I thought to myself. "That reminds me,... I could really go for a refreshing glass of iced cold milk right now. THAT... would be killer.".
As I shuffled my way to the kitchen and past the man in the Porky Pig mask wielding a sickle, I opened the 'fridge. In it, I saw something bone chilling!!! The milk was GONE and someone had spilled strawberry marmalade all over my liverwurst!
Frustrated and a bit unnerved, I turned, and there again was the Porky Pig man...
He, with his deep, booming voice, said to me, "I've come to b-dee-b-dee-b-dee KILL YOU!!!".
"Junk like this really annoys me!", I thought to myself as I pushed past the blade bearing maniac... "Who, in their right mind, would spill marmalade all over perfectly good liverwurst?!!".
A few minutes later, I came back through again, and this masked freak was STILL there. All breathin' heavy and everything, like he was waitin' for me to make sweet, sweet lovin' to him or somethin'...
This, of course, was not going to happen. Mainly because I am SO NOT gay, but also because he had really skinny legs...
But, I did feel bad for him, so I did something to prove I cared. I dropped my stylish khakis down to my ankles, revealing my ultra-sexy underpants. Then, with my fingers interlocked behind my head, I thrust my pelvis at him several times over the course of a few moments...
Finally, I guess he'd had about all the sexy hotness he could handle and he lunged at me!!!
Being cat-like and nimble, I side-stepped him and curtsied to him in an act of ultimate defiance...
His eyes burned with pure hatred as he stood back up and again lurched toward me!
This time, I wasn't wanting to play around. For, now, I was officially irritated. So, rather than side-stepping the lunatic, I jumped high in the air (sans pants) and gave him a series of 11(!) airborne kicks, the last one separating his head from the rest of his now lifeless body!!!

Well, now I guess I should get some pants on so I can drag him out front and burn his body on my lawn as an example to my neighbors. Perhaps this way they'll take me serious and stop locking their doors at night, so as to inconvenience me when I want to use their toilets. Yeah, that's what I'll do...
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...

The Mysterious Box of Majestic Grooviness...

2008-04-27T14:15:00.000-07:00

I bought this little metal box at a swap meet last weekend. It was a little rusty at the edges and had a couple of fair size dents in it, but that's not what concerned me. Oh no! I noticed that it was locked and there was no key.
A morbidly obese man with a well-worn "Jews For Jesus" t-shirt and urine soaked sweat pants told me that he found it while digging through the garbage can of an ancient Chinese "Master of the Mystic Arts". He then proceeded to pick his nose with a plastic fork for several moments until I finally just walked away...
So, I took my new purchase and started toward the parking lot, but not before being flashed by a most gruesome elderly woman working at the "dream catcher/plumbing supply" table.
The drive home seemed to take forever! I'm not sure whether it was the anticipation or the fact that my car only tops out at 8mph...
Anyway, when I finally got home, I noticed that the box had started emitting a strong sulfur-like odor. I thought to myself, "Wouldn't you know it?!! Everything I buy starts smelling like brimstone!!! Curse my luck!".
Then, after changing into a loin cloth and suspenders I started trying to jimmy the lock open with a screw driver. Then a pocket knife. Then a paper clip. Then a crow bar. Then a hand gun. Then a small charge grenade. Nothing was working!!!
Frustrated, I walked outside and saw a sharp dressed man in a crimson cape with a rather dapper goatee catching small birds on fire with just the snap of his fingers.
When he saw me, he smiled and said, "Good day Benjamin! I have something you might want.". Then, he held up a rather elaborate brass key. "All you have to do...", he began, "is sign on the dotted line and this could be yours...".
While he was droning on, it occurred to me that that key may just fit my stinky little metal box! So I reached for the key, but he shoved the pen and paper toward me. This annoyed me, so I head butted him in the teeth, breaking off one of his pronounced incisors and once he collapsed from the pain I stepped on his groin. He coughed-up little chunks of what I assume to be testicle as I took the key and went back in the house.
I sat down on a bean bag and jabbed the key mercilessly into the lock. Success was mine!!!
As I slowly opened the top of the box, I peered inside.
To my astonishment, looking back at me were two little eyes. "How weird...", I thought, "maybe it was a puppy?".
Instinctively, I threw the box to the ground and began stomping it like some sort of berserker!!!
It was then that I heard it, the little voice from inside the box that pleaded, "Would ya stop stompin' me ya giant butt-monkey?!!".
Puzzled, I ceased my furious attack and took a step back. Just then, a miniature man stepped out of the partially crushed box. He was well groomed, in a somewhat dated, powder blue leisure suit, and wearing a rather dashing top hat. He informed me that his name was Hat-Headed Terrence and that he could offer me three wishes.
This was great! I could wish for so many things!!! World peace! Food to feed the masses! Free health care! More money than I could spend! A pair of crushed velvet pajamas! A new car! A huge house! Significantly larger genitalia... Anything I wanted.
After several moments of pondering, I decided what must be done!!!
I walked out of the room for a few seconds then came back in with a pencil sharpened as sharp as sharp could be.
Hat-Headed Terence asked if I was planning to writing a list of things I'd like to wish for, but instead I drove the tip of the pencil through his tiny chest and ate his little corpse between two slices of whole wheat toast.
Afterwards I patted my belly and smiled knowing that I had, in fact, gotten my wish. A sandwich made from a miniature man,... with spicy brown mustard!!! Delightful...
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...

Shake A Bad Man's Hand...

2008-04-26T22:05:00.000-07:00

Ah, the 1st post of a new blog. How lovely.
Not entirely unlike the 1st bite of a freshly microwaved Moon Pie, is it..?
I suppose we should begin this thing formally...

My name is Benjamin Scott Dennis.
As of this very moment, I am 30 years of age, trapped somewhere between youthful vigor and elderly haggardness...
I live with my delightful wife and 4(!) ever-entertaining children in the badlands of southern Missouri. It's here, in this unforgiving wasteland that we live our lives in fear, each and every day. Fear? Yes! Fear... of the hundreds upon hundreds of cymbal playing monkeys that live here, just below the Earth's surface,... awaiting nightfall. It's then that their reign of terror begins anew, every evening...
Aside from the cymbal playing monkeys and all of the locust plagues, it's really not all that bad here.

I spend my days toiling to make a living for my family, in the dank, dingy pharmacy inside our local Wal-Mart store... It's here that I'm beaten mercilessly with barbed wire wrapped potatoes and forced to dispense prescription medication to the most despicable of souls. Each ready to, without warning, thrust kick me in the larynx to gain their pain pills a day sooner that they're allowed...
While it's a good job, and rarely am I forced to put my head inside the land shark's mouth before being allowed to leave anymore,... I'm afraid this is not my passion.
No sir. For, I'm an ambitious go-getter who wants more from life. MUCH MORE!
See, I long to be a professional comic book creator or character designer for a major animation studio. Either gig would swell my chest with pride and get me that much closer to being able to afford treatment for my debilitating case of radioactive ringworm...

So, I'll be using this blog to keep regular updates of me, on my path to super-stardom, as well as my mentally fragile cries for help...
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...