It has come to my attention that our beloved Zenestex.com has been infiltrated by the ignorant. Recently, one of our writers, Ligia, was verbally assaulted by a reader known only as "Glen." Not only was her article trashed, but her family, boyfriend, and career were also scrutinized. Although Ligia chose to not say anything in regards to this matter (due to a pending investigation), I, Sho Nuff, protector of all things Zenestex.com, will gladly take care of this situation.
After careful review of Ligia's article, Stankonya, and the imbecilic comment left for display, I have determined that this intrusive statement of opinion is absolute Trailer Park Trash (TPT). This article is devoted to you, TPT. Please click on the following song below and have it playing in the background while reading the rest of this article.
The party preparations began innocently enough for the two heroes. They arrived at the community center a couple of hours before the start of the party to help out with the decorations. Bobby and Security Gawd were relegated to balloon inflation duty in a corner far away from everyone else. They were both well aware of the conspiracy afoot to keep them at a safe distance from any vital activities such as setting up electronics or food preparation. However, even something as innocuous as inflating balloons would be fraught with peril for the pair of bumbling ne'er-do-wells.
After threatening to scare the piss out of kids at Disney World while performing the mandatory helium voice trick, the two settled into a tedious routine of inflating balloons. Bobby inflated the balloons and tied them with ribbon. Meanwhile, Security Gawd put them together in arrangements of one shiny balloon, two red balloons, and two white balloons. Things were moving along at a nice clip.
“We should be done in no time at all,” said Bobby as he surveyed their progress. “Just a few more bundles and we can finally do something useful.”
Bored with being an automaton on the balloon inflation assembly line, Bobby blew up a balloon in his mouth and held it there. He intended to let it slip from his mouth to see where it would fly and what mischief it would cause. Security Gawd noticed Bobby's scheming and promptly foiled these plans by popping the balloon while it was still in Bobby's mouth. The balloon murder for Security Gawd's mere amusement was the event that angered Him.
Hello Kitty, two little words that always bring a smile to my face. Oh, it isn’t for the reason you are thinking. I am not a Sanrio© Hello Kitty fan by any stretch of the imagination. I have, what I recently described to my friends over beers and bar food, “embraced the gayness” of Hello Kitty. Well, it turns out I should have thought that through just a little bit before I blurted that out. Sounds a little like I am now an HK fanatic (I have shortened Hello Kitty to HK, deal with it).
My debut article was supposed to be inspired by the most Gawdly of muses. One rainy evening a few weeks ago, a certain someone announced that he would write a monologue admitting that he loves Hello Kitty. I was inspired. I promptly proclaimed that my first article would be a rebuttal to his. My thoughts then devolved into an internal dialogue of yokes about his feline love. Oh, the material.
If you don't know what a yoke is, boy have you been deprived. And before you hypothesize, it's not part of an egg. Don't go look up the definition; it's a concocted word. The term's origins are lost in the annals of time, but somehow yokes were unleashed. Yokes are a particular subcategory of stupid jokes. Typically spawned from way too much sugar, yokes are grammar-school jokes with some lightly-twisted meaning and they tickle me immensely.
I've gone one full week without committing a "Whup" slip. It has taken a ridiculous amount of effort on my part. I'm actually surprised that I have the attention span to pull off my solution: Constantly repeating the mantra in my head, "don't say 'whup,' don't say 'whup'…" Up to this point, this method has been a resounding success. I have gone from saying "Whup" nearly every time I leave my desk, to not saying it at all. I've felt a “whup” surge up my esophagus a few times, but the mantra has kept it from escaping.
I'm fairly certain that prolonged use of the mantra will hasten my ultimate fate of being locked away in a padded cell. I truly fear the day that I let the mantra slip and say it aloud as I'm walking around. I have a tendency to talk to myself when I think nobody is around; I've been caught before and I'll get caught again—it's only a matter of time. Imagine if I'm repeating that mantra when I get caught. Now that I think about it, that's probably the event that'll have me committed.
Here's what's happening with the site:
- Li just posted her first article Stankonya
- Zia is putting the finishing touches on her first article. I've seen it, it's funny!
- Security Gawd will have his eagerly anticipated article on Hello Kitty up soon
- I'll post a movie review within the next week. It's one from my Top 10 of all time. Here's a hint: Sum Dum Goy.
- Babe of The Week will be up Friday morning. Check the teaser pics to see if you can guess! No prizes--I'm broke.
- I have some updates to the site I still need to get to including fixing up the GOTD archives, fixing a few issues with Comments, adding the Authors page, and the Graffiti Wall.
The Babe of the Week teaser in case you missed it