The People Who Watch Us Sleep at Night

When you turn the lights out at night, and crawl between cool, comfortable sheets, you are not alone. It is dark but for the street lights or moon peaking through the windows, but it is more than enough for Them to see. The People Who Watch Us Sleep at night do not watch with human eyes.

As you drift off to sleep, They stare at you through air conditioner vents, and under door cracks. They listen to you breathe and snore and sleepily murmur through snoozing clock radios and turned-off TVs. You might wake, totally sure someone else is in the room with you, but you can't see Them through the shadows. And you can't hear Them over your own heart beat. The only sense that detects Them is your knowing. So you roll over, and try to forget that you know.

Once you are deep asleep, They bound from one shadow to the next, until They crouch huddled around your bed. The deeper you go into sleep, the closer They draw to your body. They crawl under your sheets and blankets. Some melt up from under the bed. Toward the end of the night, They are suffocatingly close, like a plastic bag over the head. When They are not listening, They are telling. They speak into your mouth, so each breath we take draws Them in. The first thing you taste in the morning will be Their whispers. They taste like dirty black licorice.

The things they say are warnings, or threats. They will not hurt you. They just watch. But the more you fill up on Their sayings, the more forgetful you become. Their words build up like plaque on your brain, and you forget to do little things; like brush your teeth before bed, say your prayers, or lock the front door. They drift out through the unlocked door, and someone with rope and pliers slips in. And when you wake up, if you wake up, you will absolutely know you are completely alone.

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Toys

When Teddy was brought home he was like any other new bear. He had shiny button eyes, soft clean fur, and was soft as a pillow. But when the human society found him, he was anything but. He was missing an eye, the end of one paw had been chewed off, and half his stuffing had been pulled out. half his body was soaked through with urine, and the back of his head was covered with some crusted fluid. Teddy had definitely seen better days.

Unfortunately, Teddy's store is all too common. Every year, thousands of plush animals are abandoned to the streets and landfills of America. Some are found and rehabilitated, but most aren't.

Rebecca Moines, co-founder of Furry Rescue, has seen a lot of orphaned plush since she started her rescue group in 1987. Since then, her organization has rescued over five thousand animals. She says teddy bears are the most common animal to be abandoned, however monkeys and dinosaurs are on the rise.

"The number one problem, besides people abandoning their toys, is that they don't fix them," Rebecca says. Most plush toys aren't spayed or neutered, and even fewer are taught to socialize with people or animals. Rebecca says this only compounds the problem. "They fuck everything," she says. Some have suggested this is a defense mechanism for a creature with no natural defenses, claws and teeth are usually only put on plastic toys.

Rebecca herself has been the victim of several sexual assaults from stuffed animals. Politicians and victim-rights groups seeking to outlaw plush animals point out that 30 percent of registered sex offenders are Beanie Babies. Despite her experiences, Rebecca continues to reach out to help the lost and desperate plush animals. "We have to remember that at one time, these little guys were a child's best friend." She admits that it's sometimes easy to forget when one is violently humping your leg.

A week after Teddy is brought in by Furry, he has been washed, restuffed, stitched up, and had a new eye sewed on. He's also been neutered. "It's a simple operation," Rebecca explains. "It just takes a seam-ripper. But why toy companies continue to sew penises on these poor animals is beyond me."

The next step for Teddy is to try and have him placed in a home. The volunteers at Furry are realistic about his chances. Teddy, despite being cleaned up and fixed, has a lot of competition from new bears to hand-held video games. Still, there will always be a closet for Teddy, and hundreds of plush friends just like him, at Furry Rescue.

If you have plush animals, please have them spayed or neutered.

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Barack Obama Seeks Nomination, Oscar Nomination

Presidential candidate Barack Obama is getting a lot of attention lately, and not just for his health care plan. Despite slipping in the polls, Obama has been getting praise for his dramatic portrayal of white men. Civil rights activist Jesse Jackson has been the latest to take note of Obama's performance, citing Obama's reaction to the Jena case as being dead-on white. This has lead many to speculate about an Oscar nod in the Senator's future.

Despite Obama's rave reviews, critics have historically been mixed when it comes to off-race acting. Marshall Mathers recieved critical and public acclaim for his daring performance as black rapper Eminem. However, Ned Holness has been the subject of attacks and low ratings for his dual roles as Latino comedian Carlos Mencia and black comedian Richard Pryor. Other black men attempting to play white, such as Michael Jackson, have had mixed results.

Oscar nominations will be announced Tuesday, January 22, 2008.

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George Bush is the Smartest Man on the Planet?

Last week General Patreus gave congress a sobering report about the state of the war in Iraq. Not only has the Iraqi government failed at nearly every task in securing itself, but the General could not say if the war made America safer, the sole purpose for the military to be engaged in any conflict. A common theme used by the White House, and echoed by the General, was that if we leave Iraq now, as is, Iran will step in and fill the void. Each week we've been fed more reports about Iran. They are building a nuclear weapon. They are supplying Iraqi insurgents with weapons to kill Americans. And they are possibly working with Al Qaeda in Afghanistan. It would seem that, rather than defending the war in Iraq, the White House is laying grounds for another war with Iran. They have all but declared the Iranian army a terrorist organization. And each time Iraq or Afghanistan is mentioned, Iran is quickly inserted into the conversation. It would seem the White House is bungling itself into another conflict in a tense region, with an overly-stressed military, and an unsupporting electorate. But what George Bush has really been doing is the culmination of a 4 year plan to sucker the French into a war with Iran.

It started in 2003 when America invaded Iraq without UN (French) approval. They were insulted. Called us war mongers. We countered with freedom fries. After the invasion, the French asked to be a part of the rebuilding process. We told them to fuck off, then completely dismantled the Iraqi Army, Police Force, and national government. The American image was tarnished, we were seen as incompetent, imperialist bullies, but the French were emasculated.

The second part of the plan was to bolster Iran. A lot of saber rattling from the US gave Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad the attention he needed to seem a threat. And exercising diplomacy instead of carpet bombing showed the world that this is a threat America was not prepared to take on. This opens the door for the French. They've been humiliated and ignored by the President. They've had thousands of years being the rude, arrogant assholes of the world, and now the Yankees come in and kick them to the curb. Well, they're not going to take it anymore. If America is too cowardly to take on Iran, the French will show them how it's done.

That's the plan, and it seems to be working. Sunday, French Foreign Minister Bernard Kouchner said that the world should be prepared for war if Iran goes nuclear. However, proving that there is still at least one guy in France still without his balls, Prime Minister Francois Fillon said everything needed to be done to prepare for war.

Screw that, I say. France needs to get that war machine going. Have some pride. Go shoot someone. Because if this isn't the Bush plan, if we really are the incompetent bullies we appear to be, and George Bush really isn't the smartest man on the planet, then we're in for a lot of shit. So, please. France. Beat us to the punch. Show the world you really are a bigger bunch of assholes than we are.

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Waiting for the Cable Guys

Today we're finally getting HD Cable at Danglewood Manor. And as of right now, we're waiting for the cable guy for the second time. This morning, as I walked Lil' Stinker for her morning constitutional, I saw two cable guys packing up a van, preparing to leave. I asked if they were here to turn on my cable. Yes, they were, but they couldn't find the cable box. So apparently, that was that. They were leaving; job unfinished, cable low def, and Lil' Stinker making pudding on my foot.

I showed them where the cable box was. At Danglewood Manor, the cable box is not kept hidden by lasers, radioactive scorpions, or satanic ninjas. It's in the stairway between the 2nd and 3rd floor. Unfortunately, a little lock proved too much for the easily defeated cable guys. Despite wearing tool belts laden with drills, hammers, clippers, and jangling key rings, they could not penetrate it.

So they left, job unfinished, cable low def, and Lil' Stinker biding her time. The bastards said they would be back when High Steward David arrives. And so, we wait.

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Led Zeppelin Reunites, the Devil Squeels With Glee!

According to Yahoo's music blog, Robert Plant is in talks with guitarist Jimmy Page and bassist John Paul Jones about doing a Led Zeppelin reunion show. Some might recall more than ten years ago Plant and Page got together to record a CD and do a world tour. The move had many people screaming "What about the curse?!?" The curse they referred to was the one that broke Plant's leg, killed his son and drummer John Bonham. As the tragedies fell, one after another, like angels from heaven, it seemed the Dark Lord Satan had come to collect for 10 plus years of rocking. Plant and Page consulted mystical oracles from Aleister Crowley's mage tower in Scotland, and with the blessing of the Zephyrs, dissolved the band. For his own protection, John Paul Jones was never informed.

All seemed well for the survivors of the Zepp. They had made a solemn oath to never rock so hard again, and like the most chaste monk, kept the vow admirably with forgettable solo carreers. Yet the world around them suffered. Global climate change, rampant disease, nuclear proliferation, and terrorism gripped the planet. The people called out for song to cheer their weary hearts, and got R. Kelley pissing on a teenager. It is during these dark times when the Sinister One is most dangerous. In the land of rain and coffee was a golden haired axe-man, who tore the air with his screams and broken guitar strings. The people had a champion, maybe one who would give no quarter to the enemy. But the Lord of Abortions fell upon his weaknesses, and slew him by a temptress' hand.

And the people cried out! The men of Zeppelin could stand it no longer, and chanced a reunion. Robert Plant and Jimmy Page came together once again, drawing together musicians from all over the world to help them rekindle the magic of rock, and heal the world. For his own protection, John Paul Jones was never informed.

It was a chance they were taking. It was a chance the Fell Thing desired; to draw the three together, to reseal the oath made so long ago upon a moon-lit crossroad. Yet a duo they remained. And they rocked... acoustically.

Now it appears they've grown bolder. To reunite all three as one is to risk eternal damnation. many times has Led Zeppelin given to the world, now the world must give back. The three must not reunite. We must take what they have given us, some of the greatest rock ever made, and teach it to our young ones. Bring it into our homes and schools. They have sacrificed much to give us what they have, let it not be in vain. Surely, the world does not need them to suffer more for us to appreciate what we already have. Click Here To Read More On "Led Zeppelin Reunites, the Devil Squeels With Glee!"!

Comeback Story of the Year Rick Ankiel Accused of HGH Use, But Still Not an Asshole

It was reported in the New York Daily News this morning that Cardinals baseball player Rick Ankiel acquired HGH in 2004. The slugger has made headlines for his improbable conversion from pitcher to outfielder, and the dramatic homeruns he has hit since his August call-up from the minor leagues. Ankiel originally broke into the majors with the Cardinals in 1999 as a fireball throwing pitcher, with a wicked 12-6 curve. However, a bout of wildness in the 2000 playoffs sent Ankiel into a spiral of arm trouble and uncertainty. Close to hanging up the cleats forever, Ankiel attempt the startling conversion to the outfield. Since his call up to the major leagues in mid-august, Ankiel has 9 homeruns and 27 RBIs.

The accusation of HGH use surely taints what has been one of the few feel good stories in this year's baseball season. Sports in general have had it rough with the Bonds allegations, the Michael Vick fiasco, and the NBA referee scandal. The enthusiasm for the Ankiel story will definitely be cooled now with this recent information. People might starting throwing the cheater label around despite the facts that this happened 3 years ago, HGH use was not against MLB rules until 2005, and that there is no reported use or possession of HGH once it was prohibited.

Considering the hate and venom that has been spewed at Bonds, perhaps it's only fair that the same happen with Ankiel. It's unclear if Bonds really broke any "rules", yet people feel he tarnished the game, and soiled quite a few records. The moment he broke Hank Aaron's all-time homerun record people immediately jumped on the A-Rod bandwagon. Millions prayed for 5 more healthy seasons so the record could be taken back by a "good guy." But long before the record, and to some extent, long before allegations of drug use, Bonds was a hated player. His skill as a player was eclipsed only by his arrogance. People have a difficult time relating to someone whose most notable trait, besides his monstrously gigantic head, is a distant and chilly demeanor.

I doubt Ankiel will feel such wrath from the fans. Though a slight shadow has been cast on his achievement, Ankiel has been anything but a Bonds like asshole. Despite his improbable rise, dramatic homeruns, and the slow ascent of the Cardinals in the standings, Ankiel has been humble and thankful. As long as he continues doing what he's doing, the fans will still be there. They will not be as enthusiastic. They will be heard sighing wistfully for the Comeback Kid Story of two days ago. But they will see a kid a having fun playing a game-- and so long as he remains as he has been, people can imagine themselves as that kid. And they will always root for the player they can see as themselves.

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Axe Body Wash Makes Like Chinese Michael Vick, Murders Puppies With Lead-Based Treats

It's all over the news again: a third recall of Chinese manufactured items, poisoned with lead based paint. The last couple of recalls were crappy toys no one's played with in 5 years, except for poor kids who don't deserve toys in the first place. This time it's Barbie Dolls. Millions of girls and pansy boys from middle class families have been put at risk to the deadly effects of lead poisoning. But the nightmare doesn't end there. Yours-truly has recently discovered that another, far more important segment of the population, has been endangered by the greedy corporations, negligent manufacturers, and lead-spewing Chinese: the erotic toy-duck aficionado and his pet dog.

I recently purchased an Axe Body Wash Collector's Edition. i was in need of soap to showers, but I was lured to that product in particular by the free, sexy rubber-ducky included with the package. How could I resist? Little did I know that the sexy rubber-ducky was manufactured in China, and could possibly have killed or poisoned me.

Below I have reprinted an email I sent to Unilever, producers of Axe Body Wash; Accoutrements, toy-duck manufacturer; the Chinese Embassy; and the Consumer Product Safety Commission. The email details my concerns over the safety of their product, my experiences with the product, and some suggested short-term reparations until a recall of the product is made. Should any responses follow, be sure that they will be reprinted on this blog.

WARNING: the following email contains descriptions and scenes some might find upsetting, particularly those living in the imaginary world where money grubbing corporations and foreign countries really care whether or not they kill you with their product after you've purchased it.

To whom it may concern,

I recently purchased an Axe Shower Collector’s Edition with She Devil-Duck. While taking a bath with the She Devil-Duck, I noticed that it was produced in China. With the recent recalls of lead-tainted items manufactured in China, I wondered if the She Devil-Duck might also be subject to a recall.

Though I am concerned about the effects of lead poisoning, I am not familiar with the symptoms. Perhaps if I share my experiences with the She Devil-Duck you could determine whether or not I have been poisoned and/or a recall should take place.

I could not give you an accurate temperature of the bath water, but room temperature was 75 degrees and the water was slightly steaming. There was no soap present in the water, as I take baths to relax and/or masturbate. I placed the She Devil-Duck in the tub when it was about half-way full. While it squeaked adequately enough when squeezed, the She Devil-Duck did not perform so well in the water. Approximately two seconds after floating on the water it fell on its right side. Upon righting the duck, I made particular note of the subtle indentation over the duck's bodice, hinting at an ample bosom. Kudos to your art department for producing something erotic in duck form, yet not stooping to the gutter level of other body wash producers. As I continued my inspection I noticed: the made in China stamp on the bottom; and a few spots where paint had already begun to wear off. I did not know if the lead in your product was heat sensitive or not, but I immediately threw it out of the bath. Other than a slight case of premature pruning of the hands and feet, I can report no other ill effects from your lead poisoned item.

Unfortunately, I can not say the same for Lil' Stinker, the family dog, or our carpet. After tossing away the toxic rubber duck, Lil' Stinker took hold of it, and devoured it on the spot. I theorize that as the lead was activated by the steaming water, it became corrosive, breaking down the rubber, and making it easier for an unsuspecting pet to swallow it and die. As of this writing Lil' Stinker is still with us, her agonizing and inevitable death antagonized by severe bouts of explosive diarrhea. The walls are easy to paint over, however the carpet will be quite costly to replace; emotionally and monetarily. The missus and I first had sex on that carpet and there are some old stains, that have been covered by the new dog stains, which have great sentimental value.

At this moment, I do not seek any sort of compensation, only that this dangerous "toy" be removed from the market. Had any of our children survived their abortions, I shudder to think what tragedies might have taken place were they to come in contact with such a thing. I do suggest that a donation be made in the name of Lil’ Stinker to the American Scatological Society. These unheralded people work tirelessly at the study, treatment, and prevention of fecal morbidity. Perhaps your small act of contrition would save the next Lil’ Stinker from the miserable fate brought on by your charming, poison-filled novelty.

Please do the right thing.

Sincerely,
Barnabas Danglewood.

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Awww!

I got a call late last night from Lil' Stinker. She was in a panic. Through the snorting and licking and wheezing of her short snout, I could hear whimpering.

Her grunts and whimpers were running into each other. Something was wrong, but in her state, I could not tell what.

"Silence, she-bitch!" I shouted. She was silent, and after pacing nervously around in three circles, she sat down and looked up at me. "Now, slow down and tell me what's wrong."

The first thing she told me was that she needed my poop. Or rather, a piece of my poop. One just large enough to pass for the stool sample of an eleven week old bull dog puppy. Not her of course, but a friend of hers that was having a poop analysis done at the vet's in the morning. However, the friend had just finished the last leg of the Iditarod and was severely dehydrated, and thus constipated.

The entire situation struck me as odd, and Lil' Stinkers story didn't add up. I had heard of puppies eating feces and was beginning to wonder if Lil' Stinker had picked up the nasty habit from one of the neighbor dogs. Had the dachshund across the way turned her on to shit? Was this the first sign of a jones coming on, an attempt to con me out of my poo?

I of course refused to help. The story was too shady, I told her. And any sensible vet would reschedule. Finally she broke down into a pile of wrinkles and drool. The poo was for her. She was a candidate for high profile government job. She needed to provide a stool sample to test for worms, parasites, and narcotics. The problem was that until recently she had been a drug mule for a missouri cartel running dope through Kansas. She hid balloons of coke or H in her tail pocket, and if any drug dog got too suspicious, she cried sexual harassment, and he got his balls snipped. Unfortunately, on her last run two nights ago, a german shepherd got a little too frisky. One of the balloons exploded. She spent the last two days thinking she was a fire hydrant. She just came down an hour ago, with enough time to remember her job, the test, and a desperate need for clean shit.

I could tell by the way she licks her butt she wasn't lying to me. She said she'll do anything for me, if only I'll help her out this one time. I thought back to all of her crap I've had to pick up, and all of the stains in the carpet.

"No, Lil' Stinker. No." She can clean up her own mess this time.


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