I'm not sure what to make of this... the bike had been there for all of 48 hours if that. It may be an Emily Carr student's attempt at making people like me get a boner, or just an attempt at making contemptous art. If so, good one, you failed at both. Seriously though, the bike is a piece of shit... the chain is rusted to the point I wonder what type of nefarious noise that transport must have made during use. But if any of the message is even remotely real, go fucking kill yourself, I've seen better bikes in Oman.
Mr.Fox: You there, with the tight jeans. Come here.
Kevin: Who me?
Mr.Fox: Yes, you.
Kevin walks over to Mr.Fox
Mr.Fox: Do you like what you see?
Kevin: I don't understand.
Mr.Fox: Allow me to repeat myself. Do you like what you see?
Kevin: You mean, the plant?
Mr.Fox: It's more than a plant. It's a rare catus from the Californian desert.
Kevin picks up the catus and studies it.
Mr.Fox: Do you know what I am going to ask you to do with this ever so rare cactus?
Kevin: Shove it in your face?
Kevin shoves the cactus in Mr.Fox's face
Mr.Fox: Thank you.
Kevin: No problem.
Ted from accounting was beginning to become quite unhappy with his job. His mind would wander towards the grey skies outside the office windows that surrounded his cubicle infested workplace. Ted would drown out the sounds of the constant ringing of telephones, the clicking of fingers rapidly tapping computer keyboards and the nattering suit, ties and skirts around him. Inplace of all this, he would imagine the sound of the wind rushing past his ears. He yearned for the ability to fly free in the city skies that cried out to him. Ted yearned to be the flying squirrel to end all other flying squirrels.
His desk littered with pictures of flying squirrels in all sorts of stages of flight. He even had a few photos of Rocky The Flying Squirrel, from that damned cartoon that started this whole "sickness" from when he was a kid planted infront of his grandmother's television set.
His lunchtime conversation consisted of nothing, but nature programs about flying squirrels (which by the way, only three 1/2 hour programs about flying squirrels have ever been produced, so you could imagine how repetitive Ted's conversations would get). This would result in Ted finding himself eating alone at the subway station, across from his workplace, on a bird-shit infested bench. But Ted didn't care, Ted still spoke of flying squirrels to anybody that would listen, day or night. A homeless man calling himself Captain Morgan, would often listen, but almost always interrupted every minute or so, asking if he could have a nibble of Ted's salmon sandwich.
At home Ted would obsessively write a daily blog on his thoughts about flying squirrels for the day. Only a gay man in Wyoming would read it...his name was Ed. Ed was a little slow and just liked the pictures.
At night Ted would dream of becoming a flying squirrel and soaring high above the cement jungle below him, dropping his excrement wherever he pleased.
The saddest part about Ted, was that he in no way resembled a flying squirrel. Infact many people have told him, his voice sounds alot like Bullwinkle The Moose.
So close, Ted....so very, very close.
Frankie Muniz Death x2
Is Frankie Muniz Death? x2
I want pie, I want beef jerky x2
Son in low forking mother in low x1
Frankie Muniz Dead x1
Come on fuck a guy x1
Labels: Frankie Muniz
So, it's been made fairly apparent recently that people think DeathCar and the people involved are not on good terms with Jesus Christ. So we here at DeathCar decided to go to the big man himself and tackle this controversial topic. One fine Sunday afternoon, we visited a quaint little coffee shop in Linden, Washington and had a chat with Jesus and here's that chat:
DC: So, Mr. Christ, you're looking awfully good today. I see you've got highlights in your hair now.
JC: Oh, please, please, the Jesus goes by the name Jee-Cee. Or J.C. if you prefer, Mr. Christ is the Jesus' father...well...no...actually, God is the Jesus' father, he doesn't really have a last name. Who does that guy think he is anyway, huh?
DC: Ha-ha. We'll go with J.C.
JC: It's the one the kids like these days.
DC: So, first off, I have to thank you from all of us here at DeathCar, for doing this little interview.
JC: Wait. You're from DeathCar? I hate DeathCar! I SMITE YOU DOWN!!!
No. No. No. I kid. I kid. Wait. No. Don't cry. It was a joke. A joke. JC loves the DeathCar.
DC: Oh? (sniff-sniff) Funny.
JC: Here's a tissue. Sorry about that. The Jesus guesses being scolded by your saviour is kind of a big deal. Sometimes the Jesus just don't think.
But back to business. Yeah, DeathCar...Jesus love that shit. Funny stuff. Jesus reads it from time to time. Hey, you should do one on that Elisabeth Hasselbeck chick. Throw that skinny little white girl's Conservative ass in a DeathCar and drive it off a cliff.
DC: I think we did all ready, but for you? We can always do it again and by posting this interview, I guess we just did...and with an extra Messiah's touch. Thank Jesus, kids.
JC: Thanks, Jesus.
DC: No, I'm talking to the kids. You can't thank yourself.
JC: The Jesus is the Jesus. Jesus can thank Roseanne Barr for She-Devil, if Jesus wants.
DC: If you do that, we might have to put you in a DeathCar next.
JC: You'd put the Baby Jesus in a DeathCar? What kind of monsters are you?
DC: The kind of monsters that like their movies and have no room for shit-hogs like She-Devil or Look Who's Talking Too.
JC: This interview is over. The Jesus don't like the tone you're taking with the Jesus.
DC: That's fine with me, you egotistical jerk.
JC: Hey, hey. The Jesus has every right to be egotistical, he's the motherfuckin' Jesus. So, why don't you go on back to Canada, eh?
...and that concluded our short, but very educational interview. So there you, people, up to this point, we've been on the same side of Jesus, so you had no right speak of us so wrongly....but now you do, I guess.
In the tradition of an good old fashioned DeathCar ride:
Dane Cook has been forced fed a case of Alpha-Bits and then shat out better scripts than this guy has EVER picked...let's face it, his movies were never good. NEVER. Axel-F was a tasty flavor for a second to some...but those same people thought New Coke was pretty good too.
Fire him into the DeathCar and let's get back to business as usual.
this is simply amazing....I also write another blog, reviewing film scores and received this amazing comment on it.....just read, kids....just read.
Raul P****e said...
Leave behind this sinful music and ACCEPT JESUS CHRIST as your SAVIOUR!
Eternity is a really long time. Don't ruin it by listening to EVIL MUSIC.
If you or someone close to you listens to this music, and has not accepted God, please do so today. The following prayer can save you or someone that you love.
Say: "Oh God, save my soul. I'm so sorry that I have sinned against you, but I have come home. I will serve you, Lord, the rest of my life. Deliver me from all my sinful habits. Set me free! I do believe Jesus died on Calvary for me, and I believe in His blood, that there is power in His blood to wash away all my sins, all my sins!"
Say: "Come into my heart, Jesus; come on in, Jesus. Come on in!"
If you meant it, He has come. If you meant it, Jesus is yours. Start reading your Bible, pray daily and believe that somebody's listening; His name is Jesus.
cuckoo77 says : wow.
I don't even know where to begin...film scores, pisswad, FILM SCORES! My buddy, Raul, here gives Christianity a good name....spread the word, kids.
From: Jon Voight
To: Billy Gates
Subject: Sweat Upon My Window
It has come to my attention that your MSN Messenger does not have the ability to nudge other boys on certain computers. Please fix this and I will do anything for you.......ANYTHING *nudge-nudge-wink-wink*. (incase you couldn't tell I'm smiling coyly at you from across the world, Billy-Boy).
P.S. I like your manly power hands and bow ties.
From: Bill Gates
To: Jon Voight
Subject: Re: Sweat Upon My Window
I'm sorry, what was that?
From: Your Jon Voight
To: My Little Billy Gates
Subject: Hard Disk Drive Ahoy!
Dearest Love Muck,
Oh, don't be shy, guy. You know what it means. Don't pretend you don't want to hardrive your kilobites into my tender little mouse pad. I've heard things about your sexy little RAM and how you like to stream data with all the other microguys....although i know yours isn't microsoft....it's MICROHARD...and not at all "micro". You can fit in my Window anyday, guy.
From: Bill Gates
To: Jon Voight
I find your e-mails both unsettling and violating. Please stop as I will notify the proper authorities. Seek the necessary help.
- ► 2010 (55)
- Death Car
- BIG. MAN. JAPAN.
- The Funtumbulus Tales of Mr.Fox
- Ted From Accounting: Redux
- Testing boundries.
- Sexual Attraction
- Sexual Attraction
- Top 10 Google Search Words that lead to DeathCar i...
- "I want pie, I want beef jerky"
- Jesus & Me
- Quebec fashion hits all time high
- DeathCar For Eddie
- I SPILT GOAT'S BLOOD ON MY AMAZING TECHNICOLOR DRE...
- Rumour has it.
- You Can Smell The Lust
- ▼ February (17)
- ► 2008 (282)