What Mime is it?

My apartment is INFESTED with Nicaraguan mimes. They are everywhere. I can't get rid of them. They are just falling all over each other, miming. Mines in mime boxes, in mime prisons, pulling mime ropes, eating mime pie and watching mime soap operas.

The horror. The horror.

Check the Facts

Check the facts. They don't add up to anything more than a bunch of hypocritical nonsense that serves to keep the machine oiled and rolling over the bones of the people who have given their lives to keep it running smoothly. Long live Mike and Steve and Peter from the Hess gas station! Long live Betty and Marsha and Francine with the lazy eye! Long live Milk Duds!

are you talking to me?

i punch myself in the face and then i drink whole milk.

Poem:

Here is a poem I have written and recited many times (I've actually only written it once, but I have recited it many times. Sorry for the confusion). If you happen to live in NYC, you may even be lucky enough to catch me reciting this poem live. In person. Oh happy day! Then you can pay me the money you owe me and I can absolve you of your duty to touch my mustache and buy me some berries and a cup of coffee.

Self Portrait

Here is a self portrait. I think I look quite handsome, thank you very much.

Don't be jealous. It's not good for your skin.

Rappa

My name is Peter Piper Peter Locka Duka Docca.
Hit me in the face with flava mava freakin' kaka.
Punch me in the arm with blaza maza razor flocka.
Tell me that I am the Cravin' Mavin' Hippa-Hoppa.
I like to drink my coffee with Choc-fulla-gloppa.

Krocka Rocka.

My name is Peter Piper Peter Locka Duka Docca.
If you don't respect me I'm gonna flippa-floppa (your face).

Subject of the story

This blog tells the heart wrenching story of a misguided blogger and the epic journey he undertakes to save his dying ficus tree.

Fighting off plagues of aphids and the blogger's angry, cheese-smelling girlfriend, the two find love only to lose it in the end to a Danish pygmy who was the runner-up in the 1997 Eastern European boogey-boarding championship.

Faustian in it's theme, it is, in reality, a modern day tragedy based on the eternal struggle between flora and fauna, heartbreak and heartburn, chocolate and vanilla.

Friedae

(farting noise)
(harmonica & guitar noise)
(blowing nose noise)
(eating pie noise)
(reading TBTMNS noise)
(hemoglobin noise)

No Post Today

I have decided not to write anything today, as I am very busy and just don't have the time to post. I am already late for meetings with famous people, world leaders, super models and hot dog salesmen. Yes, it's a very busy life. Having a blog that reaches 44% of the earth's population is no small job. Everyone is vying for influence. Bribes, blackmail, hallmark cards, first born children, mangoes and mechanical pencils fill my post office box. My phone is always ringing, and so are my ears. My feet itch and my eyes water. I like tennis.

Ok - so no post today. Sorry to disappoint you, my legions of loyal readers. Do not fret though - we shall persevere and make believers out of those who doubt TBTMNS and vanquish the rest.

Good luck and God speed.

Your friend and ruthless leader,

Dill Weed

"YOU"

You are the "crazy" ones.

You, the ones who eat "chicken" and "beans". You "know" who you are, and you should be "ashamed". That is, if you're not already.