How People are Finding my Entries Part 2 (s)(t)

So, quite some time ago I wrote about how people were finding my entires. Some of them were…frightening to say the least. Again, I love people finding my writings. Really, I do. If I didn’t, I shouldn’t be writing. It’s just…for fuck’s sake, people. What is wrong with you?

Once again, here’s how people have been finding my site…lord have mercy…


kau injak, aku diam kau gauli, aku diam kau rampas, aku masih diam kau hancurkan sampai ulu hati, hanya ada geming tersisa when u destroy me, u kill yourself in the first place.
What the shit? I have no idea what the hell any of this is supposed to be. When I ran the search in Google, my writings didn’t even come up. It has to do with some scare tactic bullshit, worse than the Weather Channel, claiming video games are telling your children to kill themselves. They aren’t. I am, though.

how to be professional in mortal kombat
Nothing on my site is going to tell you how to actually do this. However, this makes sense because of my fake entry New Professional Mortal Kombat 9 Tournament Rules


it’s already valentine’s day and i dont know what to get myself yet

How about cyanide and a nice cold drink, you loser? Seriously, wtf? Now you’re supposed to get yourself something for Valentine’s Day? Please tell me this isn’t something actually happening!


strangle

No, really, that’s all they searched for and found me. I have no idea why…


sieg fuck

*blink blink* Uhm…okay, sure thing there, buddy. I went ten pages deep in the searches in Google and never came up with my site. I have no idea how deep I’m buried. I can only imagine this is some how in reference to my Psychology Is Junk Science article. That…or someone is REALLY into Nazi porn.


do guys like donkey punching?

Are they asking because they want to know if it’s something they should be used to, something to expect, or something they want to try? My mind is going a mile a minute trying to comprehend this one. I mean, the answer is YES to all of those, but I like to know the finer details such as, “Do you mind if it’s an all knuckles punch?”


how to fuck your employer

Usually just bringing it up in conversation works. You can always just start off slowly with a casual date and feel it out. If that doesn’t work, a brick to the back of the head works. If it’s a guy, the brick still works if you hit them hard enough to ensure an priapism.


redmist entj kickass

What? That illustrated novel and so-so movie? What?


red hair bitch backside

Just the backside? If so, then what does the red hair have to do with it? I know I’m on the internet and there are some really specific fetishes out there, but this one is oddly specific and not in a fun way. Just a…that’s boring kind of way.


sorry i only post about my daughter

…go on… ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


ziggy grover gay fanfiction

Okay, so I wrote a few fake really bad fan fiction about Power Rangers, which I’m probably going to conclude with one more entry, but in no way was the Ziggy Grover character I had in the stories gay. Besides that, why the fuck? This person was looking for this unironically I guarantee it.


brittany blue preggo

Why?


xy.hot.4minat.videos

I’m not on the deep nor the dark web, you morons. Though, I seriously doubt whoever this was either heard about it and thought that’s how you type it in without using an onion router or…they’re just that far too stupid. I’m going with the latter, unfortunately.


how to tell your employer to fuck off and let me shit

Personally? I’d take them out to a nice lunch. You know, one with candles and Italian food. I’d stroke their hand, laugh at their jokes, and bring it up as part of a natural flow in the conversation. On the other hand, you could always just do it like you stated the search query.


fuckdoll faggot makeup

0_o


boss forcly fucking his employer

Again, you people have some really specific fetishes. I’m sure there’s plenty of clearnet porn out there with this. What it has to do with me? I don’t know exactly, though. Good lord…


hitler south park fags

This…this was something someone looked up in their spare time. I’m picturing this dumb ass sitting there expecting some great revelation only to find them saying things on the show and being so mad they masturbate to pictures of their own anus for hours.


love guru how to press a girl boobs when we meet

If I may? I’d start with “Hello”.


stop bullying, your giving a shit!

Is this like “taking the piss”, but far, far more stupid a phrase? That’s cultural appropriation, and that’s wrong. It’s not, but…whatever.


“wolfman” “douche nozzle”

Again, why is this a thing being looked for? I’m not even going to bother trying to find out where I fall in the search results. You can do it yourselves.


telepathic cat siggy creepypasta

How…why…I don’t even…


employer boss come at dinner to his employer and fucking to.is wifevidos

This can’t get any stranger…


soda show webcam????????????? no no no … not me :3 she sexy more than me :d

I can’t do this anymore…I’m fucking done…


Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go scrub my eyes and brain with Drain-O….fuck….

Little Known Legendary Creatures #4 – Trouser Snake


In the fourth installment of Little Known Legendary Creatures, we take a look at the mysterious trouser snake. A creature, which unsurprisingly, has a very infamous stigma surrounding it. While the trouser snake may seem whimsical and friendly, it holds a deadly poison.


Origin
Coming from Norse mythology, the Trouser Snake is also known to the Aboriginals of Australia as the Hissing Serpent which is the unemployed younger brother, who lives in the space above their parent’s garage, of the Rainbow Serpent. The Norse speak stories of trouser snake being what became of a piece of torn flesh from Jörmungandr when Thor attempted to fish it up from the sea.

According to a written report by one fearful Viking:

I was so careful, but in the end, I was foolish. May the Valkyries take me to Valhalla now, though I am doubtful. There I was, teasing the woman, when I became very aroused and was about to make her mine when suddenly, from a sock and coiled away, the trouser snake did come out. Frothing at the mouth, the trouser snake spewed its white venom all over my wife, some even landing on my face and stomach as well. Going limp and hiding away, the trouser snake retreated, leaving my wife ill for months at a time, and gaining considerable weight for at least nine months.

Interestingly, there are accounts of multiple types of trouser snake as well. We find at least two different types in the Falsum Libro Daemones, the Even Lesser Key of Solomon the King:

The seventy sixth plus eleven times three spirit is the reiða bregða. This creature adorns itself in a stylish garment intended to cover the legs of men, and man like women, but only uses one hole. Pulling tension around the middle of the garment where the creature is nestled in to, it will bounce up and down while dancing, shift in warm weather, and even retract in the cold, all while coiled up deep inside.

Reiða bregða thrives in warm climates, such as Florida, and marks its territory by spitting in dark, damp caves a potent white venom. Often times it will swell up when faced with predators or when trying to impress a mate. The venom is known to make those who come in contact with it sick for months and gain weight until it is lost nine months later.

The first known reiða bregða is the one eyed variety. The second known reiða bregða is the hooded species. While the one eyed variety is very aware of its surroundings and often looks to be smiling, the hooded species likes to hide its face in its own neck while collecting cheese.

In modern day, the trouser snake is warned to be on the prowl in high schools and colleges.


Powers
Known to wear pants, the Trouser Snake gets them through magical, but mundane, means. Because Trouser Sanke is unemployed, the belief is he receives his pants as gifts from his parents or hand-me-downs from his older brother. Because he is a god level creature, his parents and brother have an endless supply of funds in which to purchase him new pants. Since Trouser Snake has no worshipers, he makes no money.

Every known variety of Trouser Snake is known to harness a potent poison, generally white unless it has eaten something which artificially changes the color. According to Mertvoye kniga iz Eksperta, author unknown:

Those of the largest trouser snake do not necessarily hold the most potent of venom. Usually an off white, it stains clothing while making it first sticky and then stiff once dry. Many times the smallest looking of the beasts appear to have the largest venom sacks, but this is not always the case. Should the trouser snake eat specific items, the white venom has been known to even glow in the dark.

Any number of trouser snake has the ability to strike with its venom, but not all of them actually harness the potent poison in their stream. In rare occasions, the venom delivery is simply there for show, and for whatever reason, the trouser snake does not have any potency.


Residency
They live all around the world, no matter the climate, and have gathered abilities in order to survive. The largest of the Trouser Snakes are said to make their home in Africa, while the smallest in Asian and Canada. Even when living in different environments, the one thing in common among them all is the fact they are housed inside trousers of some sort, hence the name.

Mertvoye kniga iz Eksperta, author unknown:

Living among every expanse of land humans do, the Trouser Snake shifts about in trousers where it hides from predators and attempts to entice mates. Trying to blend in, the youngest of the Trouser Snakes often over compensate and puff themselves up the most, making them the most noticeable, though they do not have the stamina to go toe-to-toe with the most experienced Trouser Snakes.

Unlike most other legendary creatures, this one does not have a specific home of its own and instead prefers to make its dwellings among everyone.


Summoning and Spiritual Rankings
Nothing special is needed to summon for the Trouser Snake. Simply walking down the street is enough to spot one if you’re looking for it. They are known to be drawn to large gatherings of people, especially dance clubs, where they will often rub up against you while puffing up to impress a mate.

Rank: Common Citizen
Sign: 1° – 69° Capricorn (December 24 to January 1)
Time of Day: Twilight (The night isn’t quite there; The Day isn’t quite over; Scott Baio is plowing some chick he doesn’t even know the name of)
Planet: Tau Boötis b
Command: Two stones and a helmet
Tarot Card: Laughing Giraffe

If I see another person “dabbing” I’m breaking their testicles

Dabbing. It’s short for “I’m a fucking idiot”. I honestly don’t know how this whole thing got started and I’m not going to waste my time researching it. Why? Because I don’t give a damn how it started, but I’ll tell you how it is going to end: Me breaking their balls.

Not too long ago I finally managed to take a much needed vacation for almost a week. My wife and I spent four days and three nights at Disneyland. It was bad ass. However, I’m not here to talk about the trip in general. Why am I bringing it up? Have patience, little one, for a good story needs a good foundation and build up. Not everything can be handed to you snowflakes.

We had just enjoyed a nice trip through the tour in California Adventure with the sourdough when we decided to get a few pictures by the boardwalk themed section next to where you haul ass on California Screamin’. Blocking our way to taking the picture I wanted of my wife were urchins. Of course, by urchins I mean children. By children, I mean two 12 or 13 year old skeletons covered with skin who do nothing to aid in the progress of the species. The supposed mother of one of these bags of nothingness is encouraging their behavior of taking pointless pictures while blocking everyone’s paths up until one of them says he’s got “a great idea” for photo. What’s his great idea to hold us up with the greatest picture ever? It’s run over to the fake fishing net photo spot, kneel down, bounce up and do a dabbing pose. Yeah, because everyone can fucking see what you did by looking at a still photo, moron.

I wish I was kidding here. The woman took the picture THREE TIMES before they decided it would just be easier if he did the pose and held it while she took the picture. Just so you’re keeping count, two 12/13 year old boys and one woman in her 30’s is the brain power it took to figure this god damn shit out. I responded like any rational man: I grabbed her camera, toss him off the edge of the photo area and took his picture as he fell towards the track and was run over. I then headbutt the mother five times while simultaneously chopping the other one in the throat with the help of my wife who held him by the neck until he lost consciousness. After Security Guard Goofy informed us that was not acceptable and had us escorted out by Oswald Rabbit back into Disneyland, I realized I may have overreacted just a touch.

What I vow to do now is control myself and simply break the testicles of anyone stupid enough to be doing this. I’ve had critical success as of late with the technique as well. Anytime I’m in a club and I see someone doing this, it’s always some moron who thinks they are cool. Bam! One swift shot to the man eggs is all it takes to send a message I, and no one else, is going to put up with this bullshit.

Let’s face it, dabbing is the homosexual bastard with downs syndrome step-child no one actually loves of Tebowing. While Tebowing required a punch to the face, this more dramatic cure is required for something as stupid as dabbing. Putting your arms into a pose like you have cerebral palsy while simultaneously looking like you’re sniffing your own armpit is a sure fire way to signal you deserve what’s coming you way. BAM! Kick to the balls!

Remember, I could be anywhere. Do you really want to risk this? I didn’t think so. Even if I don’t, I’m sure I’ve encouraged someone, or maybe even an entire neighborhood, to just start dick kicking people they see dabbing. The cause is true. The cause is noble. The cause is everywhere. BAM! TESTICLE EXPLOSION!

This could be you. I will make it you. Don’t dab. The more you know!

Most Dangerous and Dumb Christmas Gifts in 2016

It was that magical time of year again, and that means it’s time to highlight some problems. On Christmas morning and maybe even on morning of presents for Hanukkah, someone is going to be unlucky enough to have gotten one of these gifts. Just like every year, W.A.T.C.H. is hell bent on ruining Christmas morning like a Muslim in a gay nightclub. While they do highlight some issues with toys, W.A.T.C.H. always misses the worst of the worst and instead focuses on toys targeted at boys and girls simply for being “gender specific”. Here are the actual Most Dangerous and Dumb Christmas Gifts in 2016 which were given.


My Very Own Alibi1. My Very Own Alibi
This toy line is said to have been inspired by the film franchise known as Home Alone, in which a rich white child goes on a killing spree of his neighbors while getting off completely free in protest of being left alone while his family goes out shopping. Pictured is the “Roller Puncture Derby” a la carte version of the toy. Others include the mouse trap with tack and shotgun shell and hand grenade on a sstring, the second best seller. Were do we really begin with this?

First off, the knife isn’t sharp as it needs to be in order to put someone down quickly. Some people might find this as a feature, but we find it to be a minus point to an otherwise ingenious product. Secondly, the skate is very rusty, but the knife is not. We’d give it points for adding tetanus with a dull knife, but since the rust is on the skate and note the blade, this is another minus point. Lastly, there is no ramp with My Very Own Alibi, but the packaging (not shown) clearly shows it flying off a ramp.

Kids have a great imagination, and this is just lazy. The toy has nothing to put together and basically just does one thing: Roll slowly and barely stab someone. Children are going to end up just throwing the toy, which defeats the purpose of what it is trying to accomplish. Stay away and if you get this as a present, get a gift receipt.


Pogoff To Space2. Pogoff Stick: To Space
Claims from the manufacturer:

Feeling XtReMe?! Want to KiSs the SkY?! Well now you can! After three successful pumps to prime the engines, the rockets will kick in and put you close enough to kiss the pilots of MH370 as they fly by on their infinite voyage around the world in space!

Aside from the tasteless reference to the fated Malaysia Flight MH370, there’s also a slightly veiled reference for drugs. Jimmie Hendrix used the term “kiss the sky” for getting intoxicated with drugs.

Even though almost any kid, and many adults, would love to ride on a rocket propelled pogo stick, the fact is, pogo sticks are dangerous. Ever get hit in the chin while riding on one? How about landing at an angle and falling or bouncing into a bush/tree? Imagine that at 147 MPH/236.574 KPH? Yeah, that’s going to leave one bad bump on your head and a pretty bad headache. I think we can all do without this. We don’t want another “Heat Seeking Lawn Darts” fiasco during a picnic, now do we?


My First Lynching Rope3. My First Lynching Rope: The Game
My First Lynching Rope: The Game is a choking hazard in disguise as a harmless family game. If you think The Game of Life is destined to kill your little ones who eat the cars or peg-people, then you’re not worried enough. This game is enough to kill every member of the family, especially any adopted black ones.

The game revolves around getting enough people on your posse in order to lynch the person next to you. Everyone takes turns rolling dice and taking cards while moving around a board. Think of this like Mouse Trap, except you’re the mouse, the noose is the trap, and your neck is the end game. If you can’t play your card fast enough, or have a good enough one, it’s lights out.

What the manufacturer didn’t count on is most of your homes aren’t equipped to have this hang high enough, so you’ll end up either wrapping it around each others necks and pulling, or using something like a door you’ll hope is strong enough to hold up old fat Grannie Christine. There just isn’t enough through going into this game and it shows. Pass this up.


Jihad Jerry4. Jihad Jerry
I mean…wow… This is the follow up the the Ibraheem Toys’ 2014 break out gift My First Jihad. While not directly marketed as an infidel holiday gift, they sure like to time it that way. The packaging is grotesque and 100% real.

Packaging claims it’s “Everything you’ll need to end the Jewish and Christian infidels of their lives!” It contains a child’s Qu’Ran, prayer mat, 4lbs of active dynamite, mask and robe, remote detonation backup device, and a map to local Jewish temples.

The interior booklet claims:

As your children grow and learn, they’ll want to up the destructive force for the glory of Allah. Use this as a great follow up to your My First Jihad toy kit. Praise be to Allah! DEATH TO ALL INFIDELS!

Who are they kidding? The previous kit is almost a 100% death sentence to both your child and their entire day care, so there is no “…grow and learn…” involved. We are talking about Islam, after all. Also, much of the dynamite in the packaging is pretty old and very volatile, meaning there’s a good chance it’ll explode before you put it in a vest and go to school the following day to show off your toy. Pass.


Coke Head Charlene5. Friday Night: Coke Head Charlene
At least your kids are leaning a valuable lesson here: Cocaine is a party and designer drug. Unlike the Medicate Me: Molly! doll from 2014, this doll knows how to “Fuck It Up”, as the box says. This is almost a buy.

What makes this almost a buy? It comes with real cocaine! However, it only comes with 1 gram and a very small straw the doll can use. There are no refills available from the manufacturers, either. This means to get the fix the doll needs to continue being fun you’ll have to go into bad areas or convince the local pharmacist to give you some. You know, for your “nose injury”. Good luck with that. Cocaine is also very expensive, especially for twice cut Colombian. That shit is awesome.

If necessary, a supplemental toy for this one would be the Barbie Spy Squad Cat Burglar Doll which will help your precious angel break into houses and steal her friend’s stash!


Well, there you have another five toys W.A.T.C.H. didn’t care enough to warn you about. We warn you about them, because we care for you. Wrap you child in cling wrap all over their head and paint over it so they never see the horrors of the world. Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!

Dear Black People: Here’s a List of Things Everyone Wishes You’d Stop Doing

These are simple requests. Easy requests. But we’re not holding our breath.

Nigga, please!
There are a few things every race, nationality, ethnicity, sexual orientation…hell, EVERYONE…would like you to stop doing. They’re not complicated things. Just things that will benefit not everyone else around you, but your own race as well. By “benefit”, we all mean once you put these suggestions to use, it’ll make you tolerable person. Not a great person. Not a good person. Just a tolerable person. Being a tolerable person means people can stand to be around you for more than five seconds. It’s a win-meh situation. So just take a moment for the list below. Everyone will be glad you did.

1. Wash your hair. We’ve asked you this a million times. It doesn’t matter if you’re “growing out some sweet dreads/cornrows”. Either of those on an adult is proof positive you have absolutely no understanding between right and wrong at first glance.

2. Start understanding answers to questions. Stop going around in circles chasing your tail trying to confuse people into giving you something you don’t deserve.

3. Stop screaming in theatres. You’re there to watch what is going on during the movie and your flapping gums is not adding to the scenes. Shut the fuck up once in a while. We’d rather not listen to who you were recently fucking and how nasty he or she was while watching Star Wars.

4. Stop niggering up “white” foods. A tuna sandwich is just fine being a tuna sandwich. Collard greens are fucking disgusting. Sweet potatoes are like a desert and are even better with butter and cinnamon.

5. Stop claiming shit isn’t a trend when it obviously is. Like shaving your “rap name” into the back of your head or making cuts into your eyebrows to be different. That shit came and went. It’s not a culture so much as a moron trying to start something moronic.

6. Stop thinking only black people can make soul music. The only people who can’t create soul music are the Japanese and gingers because they don’t have souls.

7. Stop screaming “racism” every time someone who isn’t black does something you don’t like. Guess what? Someone might not like you just because you’re a piece of shit and it didn’t occur to them you’re focused on skin color. Stop being a racist piece of shit.

8. STOP MAKING OVER SEASONED FOOD! If your food was flavorful or good to begin with, you wouldn’t have to cover it with more seasoning than a Hindu village! Sometimes french fries taste good simply because they’re french fries!

9. Stop acting like Africa is the greatest place ever and how you’re so proud of it and we’ll all stop telling you to go back to it. If you’re from America, be proud to be an American. You don’t have to fucking claim to be African, especially if you’ve never been and six of your generations were born here.

10. Stop claiming everyone is a redneck. Not everyone is from the south. I’m originally from California. Sure it was southern California, so if anything I’m a wasp, not a redneck. I did my time in the south thanks to the military, and let me tell you, if you even suggest I belong down there in Missouri I’ll break your fucking face. Fuck Missouri.

11. Stop making up names to sound black. Up until the 1970’s those names didn’t exist and they don’t have a real root in African naming…and considering there are around 2000 languages in African, you’d be just as accurate naming yourself Jean Pierre instead of LaNyquil or even Martylenol.

12. Stop “deepest, darkest Africa” a neighborhood and then wonder why people don’t trust you and your demon spawn. You get defensive at everyone when crime goes up because of your extended or immediate family coming in and they’re mad about it. It’s the same situation as when Trayvon Martin went into Andrew Zimmerman’s neighborhood or the Germans went into Poland.

13. Mind your personal space. If you can pick our pocket, you’re too close, and you probably picked our pocket. Prepare to get shot. We carry guns because you steal guns. That and to protect ourselves from the democrats.

14. Stop saying you aren’t as good as everyone else and need special treatment. You are making yourselves victims, and denying that shows how stupid you are.

15. Stop thinking everything belongs to you. Stop stealing our shit. Stop with the drugs. Stop with raping. If you think you don’t, look at the crime statistics, especially in your own neighborhoods where a black man is highly likely to be killed by another black man.

16. Stop thinking the democrats are out to save you. Democrats started Jim Crow laws and fought to keep segregation for a long time. The Klu Klux Klan were founded as a Democrat organization. They keep saying you aren’t good enough and need “white man help”. You’re good enough on your own.

17. Please, for the love of god, use lotion and soap. We can smell you and it looks like you’re trying to salt everything with all the ash.

18. Stop acting like you should go first just because of your skin color and victim mentality. Yeah, we know you do it consciously.

19. Stop having fights at the dining table. The rest of us don’t want to have to kill someone in self defense because you can’t pay the fucking check or refuse to tip. But, since you do number 3, I guess it’s to be expected.

20. Stop throwing the fact your black in everyone’s face. We can see you’re black. Feel like be exclusive? Feel like acting like a retarded moron? We do hate you when you do this #niggernignignig

21. Stop resisting arrest while screaming about racism. Stop looting. Stop all the god damn riots every time a black man gets arrested. I’d say we don’t know where you find the time, but let’s face it, you don’t work.

22. Stop telling us how you can’t be racist. You are. More than most people. We don’t care if you don’t like white people or Chinese people, or even Jews. We get it. You don’t care about anyone who isn’t black. Move on. Grow up.

See? There’s nothing too tough or illogical about this list. This should be taught in elementary school, but according to your mentality and how you act, we’re sure you’d claim it’s too difficult for your negro brains to grasp, making it racist.

Sincerely,

Everyone on the planet.


This is a direct response to a moronic post highlighted by TheSafestSpace on Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheSafestSpace/status/781616441984479232

Character Diary #2 (GTA Online)

Holy warriors doing the Lord's work!
I have found religion. Well, I found it for about six days and then got bored. Still, I believe I now understand what it is that I am: A chosen one by god. How else can you explain my inability to die? I learned I am a holy warrior thanks to my friend Wyldfyre. Turns out…he’s also a chosen one.

So, pretty much, how this all came about was my buddy Wyldfyre calls me and says he wants me to help him “cleanse the unholy” as a “Jesus warrior”. I figure, “Yeah, fuck it, why not?”, because, honestly, why not?

Now, ideally, if you’re going to be a super hero, even one for Christ, you have absolutely need to be dressed correctly. The first place I meet up with Wyldfyre is the clothing shop. “Make sure you look good!” he tells me. We select the best suits we can find, kill the shop owner because they were greedy, and then head over to the barbershop. When we get there, we find another lost lamb. After allowing him to give us our super hero make-up, we try to explain why his life style choice is an affront to the Holy One. Sadly, he didn’t want to listen, so we had to baptize him with our holy rocket launcher. God’s grace kept shining on us! The evil force controlled by the devil was not hunting us at this time, so we were encouraged to continue our divine mission.

Driving down the night streets we looked for other lost souls who we were to save. What luck! Wyldfyre noticed a woman selling her body for money! Wyldfyre did his best to get her to understand her life choice was unclean and how Jesus did not approve. Realizing she wasn’t listening, I had to intervene. See, I can be very persuasive and I knew my diplomatic ways would reach her. Well, they would if she could be saved. The prostitute would hear nothing of the saving grace of Jesus. I knew what I had to do…I removed my blessed blade of righteousness and gut her like a fish. If she wished to be a hand of the devil, he could have her for a face-to-face talk!

Unfortunately, after taking down the dirty whore, I saw I was missing not only my baseball bat, but my crowbar, my axe, and my golf club. Where did they go? I have no idea, but I knew we had to get at least my golf club back. Okay, so we didn’t think about how it was around midnight when we got to the golf course. The positive side to this, however, is we found a lot of midnight golfers… HEATHENS! We made sure to cleanse the filth with molotov cocktails, which Wyldfyre assured me had been blessed by a priest, which made them holy or something.

The devil was now on to us! We heard the screaming of his demons in the distance. Obviously the cops were working as minions of Satan, because if they were under the influence of God, they wouldn’t be attacking us for doing Jesus’ work. If you’re wondering, no, I never did get a new golf club, but that’s fine. We had to get away from these demons. Luckily, Wyldfyre is a great driver, especially in my Zentorno. The cops were rushing us like mad men possessed by the devil…which we knew they were.

With the speed of God’s hand pushing us down the street, we did our best to keep the cops from getting us. I took to shooting out their tires and killing the most foul of them to great effect. The good ones were spared, however, by the grace of God! Nearing the airport, I told Wyldfyre to make his way to the runway so we could get in some planes and fly away like the angels we were. Unfortunately for the demons, they would not give up and sent helicopters our way. Leaning out of the window, I tossed C4 up to them and exploded the charge next to one of the choppers. SUCCESS! The explosion caused one to burst into fire, all demons on board falling to the ground. Before the helicopter blew up, it swerved into a second one and took it out for me. Two helicopters with one C4? Thank you, Jesus!

When we finally made it onto the runway, I could see the airplanes up ahead of us. I instructed Wyldfyre where to go, all the while killing the demon pigs chasing us. Like a mother fucking boss, I stepped out of the car as he pulled a hard turn and immediately began to keep him safe so he could get the airplane started. Seeing my chance, I ran into the passenger seat and Wyldfyre began to take off. “We’re getting out of here, Brother!” Wyldfyre told me. I was looking back, flipping off the cops on the ground, as I said, “Yes! Look to the sk…” As I brought my gaze back forward, a helicopter dropped from the sky and performed a text book kamikaze attack right into our airplane!

After a brief five seconds of darkness, the Good Lord placed us back on Earth in order to continue to do his bidding. Both Wyldfyre and I laughed for about three hours straight over how crazy that cop was. Damn, the devil sure wanted us! Finding a few fat people and killing them for the crime of gluttony and also a few people smoking, we took a car the Holy Spirit wished us to have. Where did we go? Where else? The Rainbow Unicorn, of course!

I didn’t beat around the bush on this one. Before entering, I stabbed the doorman with a broken bottle I found on the ground. Some how everyone inside knew what was coming and they began to charge out of the door, knocking me to the ground. Being the ever ready God Warrior he is, Wyldfyre made sure there was no one surviving this. I managed to put a shotgun into the back of two strippers’ heads and I felt proud. Even with the good work we put in, we were not finished here. I poured gasoline from the entrance into the main room, where I found one patron still cowering. Yes…yes I covered him in gasoline and shot the trail, setting the entire place ablaze, as well as cleansing him in the holy fire. Not surprisingly, the devil was really pissed off and sent his demons after us. Using the enlightenment from the Almighty, Wyldfyre found a way backstage, where we hid. Knowing we were protected, the Great Deceiver gave up after about a minute or so. We walked out knowing we had done God’s work.

After that we decided to run over those who needed to die and made the train smash some cars while we were in them. All in all, a productive time.


Renegade Ranger to the Rescue! (An even more best damn Power Ranger fanfiction ever written!)

Power Rangers: Super Multiverse

Due to popular demand, I am writing another Power Ranger fanfiction set in the multiverse I originally setup. Because the last one I wrote was the absolute best Power Ranger…hell, the best fanfiction of anything…ever written, I swore I wouldn’t write another. However, after all the praise and uncountable death threats I’ve received for not continuing, I feel obligated to do so.


Angel Bay Crest Grove was under constant attack by Evildron and the Rangers weren’t getting much sleep. Every time the Rangers knocked down one monster, another one almost immediately took its place. Sure Evildron had been phoning the monsters in lately, as they were extremely easy to destroy, but the sheer volume of them was now taking its toll. If the Rangers didn’t get help or rest soon, they would die from exhaustion long before the town would remain safe.

“Oh, man! I just want some sueño! A nice little siesta for fifteen minutes!” Carlos screamed as the latest monster exploded. For once, the giant explosion didn’t kill anyone, since most of this area of the city was completely abandoned thanks to both people fleeing and so many people dying during other monster attacks.

“I know what you mean,” Jen agreed, “A nice fall in bed is all I can think about…Hell, I’m not even thinking of using it for sex, just sleep!”

“Damn, you are tired!” Tommy exclaimed, yawning under his helmet.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m done. I’m out. I’m not doing this again. Let the monster attack the fucking city for a few hours. I’m going to bed!” Dustin stated and jumped out of the Megazord. The moment his feet hit the ground, he de-morphed and began running home.

“What a dipshit,” Sky stated as they all left the Megazord as well and de-morphed, “He could have just teleported home. Guess he really is tired as hell.”

“Rangers!” Zordon’s voice cracked over the speaker on their communicators. With a deep sigh, Tommy answered the call.

“No, Zordon, we don’t give a shit if there is another monster attacking the city. Most of this place is trashed and abandoned. We’re getting some sleep!” Tommy shouted. Sky gave Tommy a high-five for being so god damn cool and saying exactly what everyone else was thinking.

“Of course, Tommy,” Zordon said. He knew better than to mouth off to Tommy. Zordon continued, “You get some sleep. I just wanted to let you know I am working on getting you some help.”

“About time, Zordon!” Jen clapped happily, “If you manage to do that, I’ll let you plug into Alpha 5 and slut you up a bit!”

“That would be wonderful!” Alpha’s voice shouted in the background, “We’ll be sure to get you that help!” The communicator went silent and everyone sighed with relief. They agreed to meet back up after a few hours of rest and wouldn’t answer their communicators no matter what.

Meanwhile, with the bad guys…
Deep inside Evildron’s layer he was busy creating his newest, and most powerful, monster ever. Neither the R.A.P.E.B.O.T. nor the M.O.T.H.E.R.F.U.C.K.E.R. had anything on this monster. Given how tired the Rangers were now, they could never hope to destroy this one given how advanced it was. If the R.A.P.E.B.O.T. was a monster design the Rangers had never faced before and the M.O.T.H.E.R.F.U.C.K.E.R. was a speed they had never faced before, this was not only a combination of the two, but it also had power. Evildron learned from his failures, which is a dangerous attribute for a villain.

“Evildron?!” Sloan called out to his master.

“Damn it! What is it, Sloan?!” Evildron screamed over his shoulder, having been startled after sitting in near silence for so long. Rushing into the building room of the lair, still lit by unnecessary candles scattered around for aroma therapy, Sloan rushed up to Evildron, almost out of breath. Sloan had taken Evildron’s habit of not taking many showers, so the candles helped with his smell. Evildron didn’t need many baths, since he didn’t actually sweat, but Sloan was beginning to become rather ripe. Instead of washing, Sloan believed Febreeze and deodorant was actually enough.

“Oh, for the love of god, man, take a shower!” Evildron commented, plugging his nose.

“But…I just did…” Sloan whined, opening his shirt and sniffing at his chest.

“Then take ten more! What do you want?!” Evildron asked, pushing Sloan back.

“Um…you sent me a text message on our two way pager and said you wanted to see me…” Sloan explained, looking down at the ground.

“Of course I did!” Evildron yelled, startling Sloan, “I want you to see as the newest, fastest, and most powerful monster I’ve ever made is finished!” Sloan’s eyes lit up with excitement and he pumped his fist a few time.

“I am so pumped up! Please let me see it!” Sloan begged, rushing over to the darkened bay where they kept the creations as they were being finished. Evildron reached over to his keyboard, entered the last few commands and slowly walked over to Sloan.

“As you know, we’ve been exhausting the Rangers to the point of…well…exhaustion. I have taken cues from our past two ultimate creations and made…uh…well…the ultimate creation!” Evildron said excitedly, slapping Sloan on the back, “Do the honors and hit the lights!” Sloan let out of a school girl like squeal of excitement as he reached over and flipped the large handle into the “on” position.

As the power ran through the lines, several lights turned on with a booming noise, revealing the ultimate creation Evildron had just finished. Taller than any other monster Evildron had created, it also had a form unlike any other monster used before. Sloan’s mouth gaped open as he stared up at it.

“Pretty impressive, eh?” Evildron asked, rubbing his hands together with satisfaction.

“It’s…a…it’s…oh my god…it looks like a blow up doll!” Sloan stated, his voice cracking a few times as he said the words, his throat drying up. Sure enough, the monster stood in humanoid shape with wide eyes and a very open, almost surprised, “O” mouth complete with bright red lips. The outward appearance was female, and it even had the shape of breasts, but no nipples. There was no obvious hole where the vagina or sphincter would be, however.

“Duh!” Evildron spat, “This is the best form for fighting another humanoid with the weapon I’ve equipped it with!” Evildron continued to smile up at his creation while Sloan remained speechless for a few moments.

“What do you call this one, then?” Sloan cautiously asked.

“Keep up now, Sloan. This is the Battalion Leveling, Optimized Weapon, Juggernaut: Oversied Bot! The B, L, O, W…J….O…..B,” Evildron stated, saying the last three letters slower than the previous. Evildron’s hands were slowly rubbing up his waist to his chest.

“Bl…blow job?!” Sloan hoarsely exclaimed, feeling so weak in his knees he actually had to squat down.

“Blow job,” Evildron said in a very slow, satisfied tone as he twisted his nipples. Sloan fell back on his own ass at this point, not exactly sure what to do. He couldn’t speak and his mind was going a mile a minute. Still rubbing his nipples, Evildron looked down at Sloan and raised his eyebrows rapidly a few times while smiling that epic eagle smile.

“This bad bitch has such a powerful weapon, one hit to that Megazord will destroy it!” Evildron said and pointed up at his creation, “Right there in the mouth is where I have it. Unlike the R.A.P.E.B.O.T. there are no ball to give a vasectomy to. Also, the M.O.T.H.E.R.F.U.C.K.E.R. had a problem in its logistics programming. I’ve corrected both issues with this design!” Sloan remained silent, his eyes huge and his mouth trying to form words, but not finding them. With a sigh, Evildron, pulled Sloan to his feet.

“Give the monster some attention, will you? I’m sure it’s feeling neglected,” Evildron instructed Sloan, “Pay special attention to the whole breast. I left the nipples out on purpose!”

Inside the Ranger’s Command Center
“Aye, yi, yi, yiiiiii!” Alpha whined out to Zordon.

“Relax, Alpha 5! I’m sure he got our message,” Zordon told Alpha, who was doing his stupid little robot panic dance.

“I sure hope so, Zordon. The Rangers are too exhausted to keep fighting today!” Alpha cried like a little bitch just as a notification beep began to sound out.

“You got our message!” Zordon said excitedly as Alpha answered the call.

“Yeah, I’m here Zordon. I would have messaged sooner, but I was in the middle of a fine ass bitch,” a voice rang out over the speakers, “So I take it your Rangers are too big of pussies to be able to handle this without my help?”

“Sadly, yes,” Zordon reluctantly admitted, “Without your help, I’m afraid Evildron will kill my Rangers, destroy what’s left of the city, and then soon take over the rest of the world!”

“That’s your worry!” the voice replied laughing, “Even if your Rangers were destroyed, I’d still be able to take Evildron out myself. The only reason I don’t do it right now is because it cuts into my bitches time.”

“Fair enough,” Zordon agreed, “Even still, would you please help us? If my Rangers are destroyed you’ll be taking care of it yourself and that will really cut into your bitches time.” There was a few moments of silence as Zordon’s words sank in. Zordon was speaking the truth, too. The Rangers were the only ones keeping Evildron at bay for now. As crazy and evil as Evildron was, he had O.C.D. and couldn’t multitask very well so he kept focusing almost his entire effort on Angel Bay Crest Grove.

“You would put it like that, wouldn’t you? Damn disembodied head…” the voice said, “Okay, expect me there in about five minutes.”

“Aye, yi, yi, yiiiiii! This is great news, Zordon!” Alpha said happily as he did his happy robot dance.

“Yes, Alpha 5, this will help us considerably to have a green ranger. Now, please focus in on the Rangers with the viewing globe so I can potentially perv on them,” Zordon instructed. Alpha did as he was told, tuning the viewing globe into the Rangers, who were all hanging out at the Angel Bay Crest Grove Booze and Juice Bar.

“At least there have been no monster attacks on the city. A nice seventeen hour sleep is what I needed,” Sky stated, double fisting whiskey sour.

“Yeah, you know I actually ran six miles home forgetting I could teleport?” Dustin asked, daintily sipping on a clear diet cola, “That’s how tired I actually was!” Reaching over, Tommy punched Dustin right in his face, forcing him to spill his drink.

“That’s what you get for being such a little bitch, bitch!” Tommy shouted as Dustin pulled himself back in his chair. Dustin gave Tommy a high-five for putting him in his place because he knew Tommy was right…and so damn cool.

“All I know is I’ve never spent so long in bed without someone else in there with me,” Jen said, finishing off her sixth glass of wine, “I mean, I went three hours before getting myself filled!” Sky didn’t know how to respond. Instead, he just stared at her wide eyed and his mouth open slightly before slowly putting another drink to his lips.

“I was all wrapped up in the sheets like a bean burrito. It was bueño,” Carlos stated with pride, tipping back a full bottle of tequila, “After I got down with Jen, anyway.” Sky was so surprise with the sudden confession from Carlos he actually shot whiskey sour out of his nose, causing him to groan in pain.

“Something wrong, Sky?” Tommy asked, confused since he was sure they had all tapped Jen at one point or another.

“No…not at all!” Sky stammered and then ran to the bar to get another drink. Suddenly a presence so heavy and noticeable washed over them, causing them to look toward the door. The happily yelling of women and a bad ass rock song began to fill the room as the presence got closer.

“Holy…fucking…shit… No…way…” Tommy said quietly. The voices and music got louder until finally the cause of it all entered into the room.

“Oh my god!” Dustin screamed. Jen sat transfixed at the sight before her. She was completely mesmorized and couldn’t take her eyes off the new guy. He was wearing wrap around black sun glasses, tight black jeans, a dark green shirt with a black leather jacket on top of it with a single dark green stripe running down the left side with a dark green “#1” on the right side, and his dark brown hair was slicked back in the coolest way possible. As he stood there, women were desperately trying to cling tighter to him, but his face just said, “These bitches want me, no shit, and I still don’t give a fuck.”

“Who’s he?!” Jen asked, rubbing herself under the table.

“The only person cooler than Tommy…Ziggy Grover!” Sky said getting back to the group and collapsed into his chair, “This is who Zordon got to help us?! He’s practically a Ranger GOD!” Tommy turned back to the table and slammed his fists down on the table as hard as he could, cracking it the entire length.

“Damn it!” Tommy muttered under his breath. Ziggy looked around, threw his arms out to the side and every woman and the music went quiet. Seeing the other Rangers, he pointed to the ground indicated for the women following him to remain where they were and began to groove over to the Rangers’ table.

“So you’re Zordon’s Rangers, huh? No wonder he needs my help,” Ziggy stated, snapping the sunglasses off his face, closing them and storing them inside his leather jacket. Jen jumped up from her chair and fell to his legs. She began rubbing his legs up and down while looking up at him like a begging puppy.

“Hi! I’m Jen!!!” she exclaimed, nuzzling his legs with her cheek.

“Of course you are,” Ziggy said, not trying to remove her. Jen just giggled and began kissing from his calf to his outer thigh repeatedly.

“Yeah, and you must be Doctor K’s Ranger,” Tommy replied snarkily without even turning around.

“Actually, I renamed her Doctor C, as in Doctor Can’t Take Anymore of this Dick Because I Wore The Bitch Out,” Ziggy explained, “So, you must be Tommy. The legend himself…disappointing.” Tommy flipped the table out of anger over how much cooler Ziggy was than himself. Folding his arms, Tommy began to sulk and shut his mouth.

“It’s an honor, amigo!” Carlos said, giving Ziggy a high-five while looking at Tommy in shame wondering how he ever found Tommy cool to begin with.

“It’s going to be nice having some help!’ Dustin said. Ziggy glared over at Dustin before kicking him in the chest, knocking him over two tables.

“Let’s get something straight, maggots: I am not here to help. I am the solution to your problem and then I’m gone. Don’t get in my fucking way and I won’t have to unblock you like a hair clog in a sink. Got it?” Ziggy asked. Jen giggled again and began to massage on Ziggy’s ass with joy. Sky said nothing and simply nodded.

“Understood…” Tommy whispered. Suddenly their communicators sprang to life as Zordon’s voice erupted through in a panic.

“Rangers! We have a serious problem! Evildron’s greatest creation to date is attacking! We need you!” Zordon exclaimed in more of a fit than they had ever heard.

“Don’t worry about it, Zordon,” Ziggy replied, “I’m here and I’ll stop this problem in about ten seconds.” Jen reached up and began to work Ziggy’s penis in his pants, but Ziggy stopped her. “You get to touch it when I allow you to,” Ziggy informed Jen as he forcefully pulled her off him. Reaching toward the sky and snapping his fingers, a bad ass beat began to play as Ziggy stepped back, causing the women to start screaming excitedly once again.

“Let’s do this shit!” Ziggy shouted and performed his morphing choreography, “Get in mother fucking gear!” In a green flash, complete with a massive explosion behind him, which unfortunately killed fifteen, maybe twenty, of the women who had been following him, Ziggy was now morphed into the most powerful Ranger of this universe. Giving the rest of the Rangers the middle finger, Ziggy teleported away to the fight.

“Fuck…he is cool,” Tommy said with a sigh as he faced palmed in shame.

At the area of attack…
“Wow, it is getting really hard to find somewhere to destroy and while killing people around here anymore…” Evildron said to himself, riding on the shoulder of the B.L.O.W.J.O.B. through the old downtown, “Maybe I should have held back a little…”

“Evildron! Evildron!” Sloan’s voice crackled over the dollar store two-way radio they stole in order to contact each other, “A Ranger is headed your way! Maybe you should get off the…the…”

“It’s the B.L.O.W.J.O.B, Sloan. Say it right or don’t say it at all!” Evildron firmly told Sloan, “Who cares if it’s just one Ranger, anyway?” Evildron cracked his knuckles and looked around at the mostly destroyed city. A small bit of sadness came over him, not for the loss of life or destruction in of itself, but the fact he wouldn’t have much to take over if he kept destroying everything. He made a note to himself to stop powering his creations with a highly explosive compound which also turned into a potentially fatal miasma.

“But…but…but…” Sloan stammered. It was too late, however, as Evildron saw exactly who was heading his way. Shrieking like a frightened eagle, Evildron jumped off and teleported to safety. Ziggy was inside the most epic, amazing, and just plain cool looking single Megazord anyone has ever seen, known as the Ultimate Battlezord, and he was hauling ass faster than any of the other Rangers could ever hope for.

“What the fuck?!” Ziggy shouted to himself as he got closer to Evildron’s creation, “Is that what I think it is?!” Leaning back, the B.L.O.W.J.O.B. began to charge the weapon, but Ziggy saw it coming and dodged to the side just as the laser blasted past him. The exact moment the laser was coming to a finish, Ziggy jumped into the air and slammed a kick directly into the breast area of the creature, forcing it to stagger backwards, rubbing its chest.

“Titty fucker!” Evildron screamed, grabbing Sloan by the back of the neck and pointing to the fight, “Did you see that?! That is just rude!” Sloan just whined and groaned as he was forced to watch in the tight grip of Evildron’s hand.

“We’re here to help!” Ziggy heard Dustin’s voice ring out over his speakers.

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep it busy while you destroy it!” Tommy said as their Megazord rushed up to the B.L.O.W.J.O.B. and kneed it right in the face with a sick ass jumping knee strike. You know, like the one you can do in Double Dragon: Advanced on the Gameboy Advanced. That game was fucking awesome! Yeah, that type of flying knee attack. This caused the B.L.O.W.J.O.B. to fall to the ground backwards.

“Yeah, bitch! Who’s fucking who, now?!” Sky screamed. The Megazord then began to teabag the B.L.O.W.J.O.B. rapidly while Carlos sang, “Dip, dip, potato chip!”

“Get off of it!” Ziggy screamed as he saw the creature begin to charge up its weapon. The Megazord sat directly on the creature’s face looking toward Ziggy’s Ultimate Battlezord.

“Why? We’ve got our finger on the pussy trigger in this fight!” Jen giggled over the headset.

“What’s that sound?” Carlos asked, looking down at the floor. Before anyone could answer, the B.L.O.W.J.O.B. let loose its weapon and forced the Megazord up into the air, legs spread, as if it were riding a long, red, never ending dildo into the air.

“You dumb, bitch! The only trigger you understand is the one on your vibrator!” Ziggy shouted to the other Rangers as he heard them screaming as they flew higher and higher into the air. When the laser came to an end, the B.L.O.W.J.O.B. spread its legs wide, propped itself, and stood up in a battle stance. In a streak (do you see what I did there?), the creature was upon the Ultimate Battlezord and kicked it across town and over a mountain.

“Look, Sloan, look!” Evildron shouted happily, jerking Sloan around by the neck haphazardly, “Not even the Ranger god, Ziggy, is standing a chance! This is the ultimate creation!” Sloan was desperately trying to get Evildron to let go of him, but was having no luck doing so.

“Mother…fucker…” Ziggy said to himself as he stood his zord back up, “No more dicking around. I have bitches to get back to. Ultimate God Slayer!” With both hands out to the side, a powerful energy began to swirl around the hands of Ziggy’s Ultimate Battlezord. Thinking it saw a chance, the B.L.O.W.J.O.B. rushed toward its enemy at break neck speed while charging up another shot.

“Imma firin’ mah lazor!” the B.L.O.W.J.O.B. screamed and let loose the blast. A blinding flash which could rival that of being at the center of a star exploding spread for hundreds of miles around. Thinking Ziggy was destroyed, the B.L.O.W.J.O.B. let down its guard and stood straight up with pride. As the blinding light faded and the dust dissipated, the Ultimate Battlezord was still standing, both hands out in front of itself, now holding two of the most awesome looking swords ever, glowing in a powerful green energy.

“Suck on this one,” Ziggy said calmly. Before it could even react, the B.L.O.W.J.O.B. was cut one thousand times in less than a second, causing it to explode while screaming in pain. Lucky for the Megazord, which was now falling to the ground at an unstoppable speed, the force of the explosion was so great, it created enough cushion of compacted air to slow it down and not be destroyed. The Ultimate Battlezord just stood in an even more badass “I don’t give a fuck!” stance than the Megazord ever could as this all happened.

“NO!” Evildron screamed, throwing Sloan to the ground, “NO! What the fuck?! I need a vacation!” Sloan looked up at Evildron and grabbed hold of his leg fast enough to be teleported away with him. Slowly the Megazord stood and the Ultimate Battlezord powered down.

“That…was…awesome!” Dustin screamed and clapped his hands together.

“Yeah…he’s fucking cool…cooler than me…” Tommy admitted out loud.

&nbp;
Evildron was pacing around and throwing whatever he could get his hands on against the wall in his lair.

“Damn it! Another creature destroyed!” Evildron screamed, kicking a door off the hinges, “You know what? I’m going on vacation!”

“Does that mean..?” Sloan asked.

“If you think it means you get time off, then you’re wrong!” Evildron said, calming down a bit and falling into his recliner, “You’re going to stay here and build me another creature. Let’s see what you can do.”

“Oh…okay…I guess I can do that…” Sloan said, sitting across from Evildron and turning on the TV.

“I’m thinking something along the lines of a Fully Upgraded, Controlled Kinetic, Digitally Operated Lethal Lackey,” Evildron said, folding his arms over his chest and focusing on the TV, now reporting his latest failure.

“F…u… Fuck doll?” Sloan asked, looking out of the corner of his eye toward Evildron.

“Fuck doll!” Evildron said happily while clapping and pointing with both hands at Sloan.


There you go! That’s even more of a best damn Power Ranger fanfiction than Evildron’s Master Plan is!

With how great this is, please stop threatening to kill me if I don’t write anymore. This has got to tie you over for at least another ten years it’s so good!