Thursday's post. Sorry for being late.

    This is a sick drawing I did of my favorite rapper, Chingy. He's really good. I hope he sees this sick fan art.

Sick song I made yesterday. Took me forever. Totally worth it.

Halloween Plans 2013

THE PLAN:

1. OBTAIN COSTUMES
2. OBTAIN BREATH STRIPS
3. WAIT UNTIL DUSK
4. OBTAIN CANDY
5. OBTAIN MEANS OF TRAVEL TO MY HOUSE
6. DO THE ELECTRIC BOOGALOO
7. WATCH NAPOLEON DYNAMITE
8. ?????
9. PROFIT

The Aftermath:

New Jersey lays in ruins as the three horsemen wreak havoc in the butts of the innocent. Fire is spreading like wildfire. Houses are looted and robbed as the families sit and watch in horror as their Christmas family portraits are covered in mayonnaise. A lone hero stands on a lone rooftop of a lone house with his lone sidekick Loneboy. They stand and watch as the city burns at their feet. What will they do to combat the 3 horsemen? Who knows. Not me. God only knows. Just kidding. I know. They spring into action with their capes. Loneboy leaps off the rooftop just in the nick of time. Who’s Nick? He lands on a bluuuuuiiirr dealer as he’s selling his poison to the local neighborhood people. Loneboy uses his lonely powers to make the dealer smell really bad and everyone leaves and he’s lonely. Another crisis averted. The HERO still stands on the lone rooftop, actually alone this time. There’s nobody there. Hence the “lone” part. [Camera slowly zooms in] He stands, watching as the city he came to know and love burns before his very eyes, the people he grew up with showing their true colors. Looting, rioting, dancing, the world is on chaos. Will one man be able to save his hometown and everyone else too I guess find out next time on “Billy Mays’ Comedy Extravaganza and Make-up Seminar for the Mentally Handicapped Senior Women of Orange County’s Desperate Housewives.” The End.

A story by my friend, Yaster Goodman

L'Arnold and the Wings of Destiny

by Yaster Goodman

    Once, there was a boy named L'Arnold DeShawnteh. His favorite food was chicken wings, but not just any chicken wings. Buffalo wings. The spicy kind. Made from real buffaloes. One day, he was eating some buffalo wings out of a barrel when he thought to himself, "Man... I really like these wings. But you know what? I'm craving something even spicier..." So he went to the store and bought every kind of hot sauce and hot pepper in the spiciest variety and some ghost peppers. He blended it all up with the wings and put it in a cup, then drank it. The first thing he thought was "Oh my God, why did I think this would be a good idea," then he realized that he realized that every part of his mouth, face, throat, and stomach burned and he could not breathe. His next thought was, "Oh. I'm about to die." Then he passed out.
    When he woke up, he was lying in a forest with no trees. There was an old man with mutton chops walking toward him. "Eeeeaghhhhh.... where am I?" he said. The old man just stared at him, then took a waffle out of his pants and started to rub it on his bald head. Then he spoke. "You dead. You eat too much fiery, now look what happen!"
"I'm... dead!?" L'Arnold said.
"What you think I mean by 'you dead,' buttface?"
"Well then..."
"It you fault, you know. You think you can eat inferno smoothie but it make you bye-bye."
The old man continued to rub the waffle on his head, then decided that he was done and threw it at a deer. "So, how did you get here?" L'Arnold asked. "People here because eat too much of thing," the old man replied.
"What did you eat?"
"Diseased roadkill."
"Yep, that'll do it."
The old man just kept staring at L'Arnold. Unsure what to say, he decided to walk away and try to find someone who wasn't crazy. As he walked, the old man kept following him. He threw rocks at his face occasionally, but it didn't stop him. Eventually, L'Arnold came to a cave. He was debating whether to go in, when he heard the old man say, "Huyuyuyuyeh... I scare of caves." His mind was made up for him. He would go into the cave.
    As he walked deeper into the cave, it got darker and he started to see less. Soon he could see nothing at all. Then his eyes opened, and he was back on the floor in his kitchen. It had been a dream. He wasn't dead. But he still had an urgent matter to attend to: he was ill. He tried to get up, but threw up all over the ceiling. He pushed the button on his Life Alert, then let himself go back to sleep. When he woke up again, he was in a hospital bed, looking up at a very attractive nurse. He was going to say something, then she slipped on some pudding and fell out the window to her death. Before he could take in what had just happened, a doctor ran into the room, yelled something about microwave popcorn, sawed the door in half with a chainsaw, then ran out. Now L'Arnold's main concern was not his health or the dead nurse, but getting the hell out of there. When no one was looking (not that anyone was in the room with him anyway), he got out of the bed and ran out of the room.
    While he was hurrying down the hallway, he began to notice a pain in his wrist. He was so focused on escape that he had not noticed the I.V. in his arm. The pole was now dragging behind him and other patients were tripping over it. He pulled out the needle and continued to run. And he ran. Some say he's still running. Some claim to have seen him urinating in public fountains. Me? I know the truth. He found the Wings of Destiny. Don't believe me? Look on my Instagram. There's a picture of him from New Year's eve. We hang out sometimes. And that is the story of how L'Arnold DeShawnteh disappeared from the face of the earth. Except for when we hang out and eat tacos. Anyway, I can't think of a good way to end this, and I have to take a dump. That's it. Bye.