Purple Rain

Music is important to some. Not important to others. That pretty much covers it. With that overtly generic statement being said, I am one of those individuals who falls into the "important" categorie. As my life has gone on, I have been introduced to varying forms of music, bands, styles, etc...Many of these introductions have been positive. I have loved blasting Biggie in a car whilst old white people look terrified, and confused. I will never shy from dancing to Mark Morrison's "Return of The Mack", like an asshole, or smashing various objects into oblivion with the help of amp-crushing, speaker melting Motorhead. And the like, and the like.
However, one song has always resonated with me passionately. A song that will stop me in my tracks every time; a song that would cause me to ignore a robbery, or casually step over a bleeding body.

Purple Rain. Yes. Purple Fucking Rain. Say what you will about Prince's insane antics, and his outrageous sexual perversions, that is simply Prince being Prince. I would like to argue that he is a musical savant; a genius, and as such, requires various outlets to soothe his vices. Yes, he may be a sodomist, but he is also a brilliant musician, who has created a song that I could listen to 100 times in a row, passionately and attentively. There has been many a time in my life, in which I have arisen, naked at 11am, turned on The Price Is Right, and replaced its manic drivel, with Purple Rain. I am not ashamed to state that on more than one occasion, I have dropped to my naked knees - on my living room floor, and performed an awe inspiring guitar solo. Yes, I am naked and fat, but my soul is transformed, and illuminated, through the sound of Prince's ample musical prowess.

Thank You, Prince

Regards,
MBW

Baby Im a Star

Ya, I might be 150 million Gyaddamm kilometers away from y'all, but Ill still burn your mafuckin' ass. Im the dude, that red's up yo' skin, and makes y'all throw up for hours when y'all forget to wear a hat on the beach.
I mean, shit, smarten up muthafuckers. Y'all thinking, "oh snap, that bitch ass sun can't fuck with me. It ain't that hot".
What? Y'all's is stupid. I'm 1.4 million muthafuckin' kilometers wide, 4.5 muthafuckin' billion years old, and 10 million mafuckin' degrees, of hot skin burnin' fuckyoshitupness. I WILL burn your muthafuckin' asses. I will melt your record collections, and kill yo dogs, and yo old peoples. Don't fuck wit me. Please do not fuck wit me....
Some dumb motherfucker, Ian was bitchin' how I ain't come around, fo June and most of July...Then when I do come out, this dumb ass get so giddy, he dun drank 40 beers on a dock, all afternoon singing my praises. Well, I don't take kindly to punks, dissin' me when I ain't around, so I burnt his mafuckin' shoulders to a crisp. Burnt them shits.
Shit, I may be up in space, straight chillin', but I still laughed when his friends, dun slapped his muthafuckin' burnt shoulders, and called him a "douche bag".

Bottom line is: let me do my thang. I'll be out, so don't bitch when I ain't around, or I'll come down on your punk asses, and burn your eyes out durin' an eclipse, or blind you on the highway, or straight give you cancer.

Cuz yo, I'm a mutherfuckin' Star.

I Would Die 4 U

You have just finished ordering your meal at your favorite seafood restaurant. Eagerly anticipating the arrival of the butter-soaked animals, you casually sip from your Stella. Finally, you see the tray coming out from the kitchen. Your brain sends a signal to your mouth, and you begin to salivate uncontrollably. Your mind is well aware that within mere seconds you will be shoving Alaskan King Crab down your swollen gullet.

Greedily, you reach up towards the steaming mass, for a leg that is protruding tastily off the edge of the plate - the plate that is still in the waiters hands. He gives you a disgusted look that you fail to notice, as you are engulfed in the moment.

The red exterior is of no match to your clenching, bending and prodding, and within seconds the meat is cascading out of its protective shell into your fat mouth. A once majestic king of the ocean floor is now on its way to becoming churned up fecal matter, deposited into a poorly cleaned North American toilet. However, this is of no consquience to you since, well, King Crab is really fucking tasty.

Now, your overwhelming lust for the legs of the paralithode camtschaticus begs the question, "would you die for this, fat man?".

Chances are, regardless of your hunger-passion, you would not be willing to risk your life for crab meat. Chances are, your list of life risking endeavours begins with "family", and ends with "50 gagillion dollars"
Well, their are men who are willing to risk life an limb for this creature. Careful now, do not "freak out" crab-man, I am not referring to some smelly environmentalist, on a quest to protect these beasts. No. Quite the oppostite in fact. I am referring to alcoholic, drug addicted fishermen, who are on the fringes of society.
These brave souls risk their lives to trap the crab, and sell them world wide, so that you can shove the meat down into your gizzards.

One can speculate as to why they simply do not construct a machine to fish for these creatures as opposed to putting numerous lives in danger. Is this a classic case of bottom line profit margins versus human lives? Is this another Ford Fiesta like debacle of human dignity? Is the price of a fisherman's life really that low? Sweet fucking lord, I hope not.

Crab lover, you must realize that with every bite of that deliciously butter-soaked Crab meat, there is blood on your hands....But also realize, that you do not really give a shit.

MBW

When Doves Cry

What if things on Earth were switched up a bit? What if Squids could play the drums? What if Lions and humans switched brains?
Well, humans would certainly be in dire straights. We would all be drones, rounded up and harvested for food by our Lion overlords.
My goodness me, a Lion with a human brain is an excellent thought! What a slim chance at freedom the human race would have.
I am assuming that humans are tasty, and I am also assuming that a Lion equip with a human brain would deduce that fact rather quickly.
This is especially troubling for humans, as without our impressive sponges, we are one of the most pitiful and defenseless creatures of earth.
Where is our armour? Our methods of defence? Our cunning? It is no where, without our impressive head lumps.
Give that lump to Lions, and they would be skinning and frying the pathetic humans six ways from Sunday.
I personally can picture myself disemboweled and fried in a soft batter, apple in mouth. What a treat I would be at the Lion semi-formal charity event! The Lion Chef would be mobbed, and asked how he was able to cook the "bald-headed loser" in such a tasty manor - although being a professional he would not reveal his recipe.
There would be McHumans, and Double Mchumans w/ cheese - they would be cheap, but they would make the Lions (especially the lower class ones) obese.
It would be a great world to live in for the mindless drone humans...I certainly would not have a heavy cell phone bill to pay, or any crippling depression.

Perhaps when Doves cry,

MBW

Darling Nikki

Writting in 4 mins 12 seconds.

James awoke; it was time.

Delivery of the deivce was 4 days. It had been and, well, they had been reliable in the past. At that moment, the door bell rang. "prompt", he mused.

The man at the door looked haggard, looked defeated. Perhaps that was fair, as he had been delivering for A.N.A.L for 16 years. How could that company not crush a mans soul. I mean, they were smut peddlers. Thats a long way away from law school. (Altought perhaps not, methaphociaxcllay spkeaing).

James thanked the delivery man, and slammed his door. His reection was massive. The choke suit was here.

100% robot, but realistic as hell. Custom made; spitting image of James's grade 6 teacher - He had provided a photo, and well, they did the rest.

James took her out of the box, "Darling Nikki". Stunning. Sexy. Mechanical.

Oh well, James thought. Im sick of the bar scene. Eharmony? Well thats just not my bag,
either.

James picked up the phone and ordered a pizza - he didnt bother to ask Nikki what she wanted. He ran the show.

He looked at his calander; Yup, he hasd the next 3 days booked off, and, well he was damed sure going to make the most of them.

He leaned in and kissed the machine.

"Darling Nikki", he said plainly

MBW

Computer Blue

Being an avid member of the Christian Community, Gary was disgusted of the perversions on the World Wide Web. Being a top MIT graduate, and brilliant computer scientist, he had decided to take action.

It was in early 2006 that this "action" began. The Internet's cavernous amounts of sin and filth, simply had to go.
Oh, He had heard the stories from his church going companions; filthy pornography, lewd and violent imagery, anti-religious diatribes! Surely this material was responsible for sullying the Earth, Gary thought.

He knew the fate of the world was now in his hands. It was simply time for him to act - if not for himself, then for the betterment of God's Children!

For three years He worked determinedly in his basement, creating a super computer of immense power - its name; Computer Blue. Computer Blue had but one function; when unleashed it would track down anything deemed to be filthy, tasteless, abhorrent, and offensive throughout the entire Internet. When finished its "Electronic Sin Extraction", (as Gary liked to call it), Computer Blue would simply delete, ridding the Internet of all its garbage in one fell swoop. (Ah yes, and once Computer Blue had started, it could not be stopped until the deed was done).

Finally, it was ready. The fruits of his labour were now in progress. Computer Blue had been up and running for several hours, and already it was proving remarkable effective. Pornography on the Internet was all but gone, and nearly 95% of the video's on YouTube were currently being whisked into Computer Blue's powerful sin-free black hole. Brimming with pride, and an overwhelming sense of accomplishment, Gary checked the filth-free Internet to view the world's reaction.

Much to his surprise, his ingenious idea for peace and a God loving World was crumbling in front of his computer screen. CNN.com reported stories of violent raids on pornography stores, by normal citizens on a desperate quest for porno.

Reuters was following the numerous cases of reported fights, and violent verbal attacks worldwide. It seems that the human race, unable to satisfy their lust for taboo in the privacy of their own homes, had taken to the streets.

Within days of Computer Blue's conception, murder, orgies, fire, and chaos were the norm in all corners of the earth. The once mighty Internet was now rendered useless. Without its abnormalities, and sinful content there was little interest in logging on to begin with, and all major sites crumbled. The World's economy was unable to recover, and total anarchy reigned. Gary was perplexed. "How could this be?", he wondered aloud to his cat Sparkles.

"Why Sparkles, why? I merely wanted to cure the earth of its sins, and now in an ironic twist of fate, a sinless Internet has caused the order of the entire world to implode into itself."

"I-I cannot go on, knowing what I have done."

With that, Gary donned his pink vinyl body suit, (with the extra dildo fashioned above the hole where his real penis hung out), put on his favorite air-restricting mask, inserted "My Ass is Haunted" into his DVD player, and hung himself.

Sparkles looked on in bemusement. Who was going to feed him now?

MBW

The Beautiful Ones

It was a hot sunlit afternoon at the San Diego Zoo. The weather brought the visitors in droves, and The Zoo was brimming with energy and wonder. In their spacious enclosure the Hippos went about their Hippo business. Some waded casually in their mud pond, while others lazily basked in the heat. They were all dreaming about apples - and also about 'not being fucked with'.

A large crowd was beginning to gather around their pen, however unlike other days, today the crowd was not here to soak in the magnificant glory of the Hippos. No. Today, the crowd gathered for a presentation; a charitable donation was being made to benefit The Zoo, and none other than the newly crowned Miss America was here to make it - evidently she was a real animal enthusiast.

The presentation was to take place on a small bridge, which ran over top of the Hippo's pond, and as it was set to start in minutes, the bridge was rather chaotic. It was overflowing with hairdressers, makeup artists, film crews, and the like. Leaning out against the wall of the bridge, Miss America and her manager, were speaking intently.

"Sky, don't worrry! Your beautiful, your confident, and you will nail this speech. Nothing too it babe!", her manager insisted.

"Like, um, totally thanks Rico, I like, um, really appreciate your, um, support", said Sky.



As this conversation continued, the interest of one particular Hippo was piqued. Floyd The Hippo, was fairly certain that these people were here to offer him apples. He was keen on accepting the offers. Floyd started to wade slowly over to the bridge, stopping directly below where Miss America and her manager were still talking.
Floyd then began to emit a large gurgling sound from the depths of his enormous Hippo stomach, as to inform the humans that he was ready to be showered with apples....He continued to produce this noise even after a few apple-less minutes.
Above, (and at long last) Rico was unable to tune out Floyd The Hippo's guttural cries, and interupted Sky.
"S-sky, can you hold it for a second, this Hippo is driving me fucking nuts."
"Rico!", she cried in defense of the Hippo, "He's like, just a poor little Hippo, looking for food, be niiiiyce to him"
"Nice eh? Hungry eh? Well alright then, here!", with that Rico dug into his pockets and aggressively threw the contents of them on the sexy Hippo waiting below - the contents of which happened to be a small, opened bottle of cologne.
The cologne struck Floyd on the nose. The liquid ran out of the bottle, and effortlessly flowed into his large sized nostrils.

This angered Floyd, and he prepared his rebuttal.

Before Rico and Sky (and the dozens of people on the bridge for that matter) knew what was what, Floyd The Hippo had begun to shake his tail, whilst excreting his feces, effectively spraying everything in sight with Hippo Shit.
This caused a panic, in which Rico twisted his body (to block the Hippo Shit from further entering his eye sockets) in such a way that he inadvertently knocked Miss America off the bridge and into the perils of the Hippo Pond.


She was then promptly bitten in half by Floyd the Hippo, who had still yet to receive any apples.

MBW

Take Me With You

"Yes!!", James hung up the phone excitedly. It was 10pm on a Wednesday, and He had just been informed that he was the winner of an all expenses paid trip for him and a guest to Paris, France!
Pacing around his apartment giddily, he could not wait to tell his girlfriend. She would be so excited! He was thrilled with the possibilities that this trip would have for their relationship - perhaps this was a chance for James and Kate to take it to the "next level", he thought.
Unfortunately, His girlfriend was currently out of town on business, set to return tomorrow...
He simply could not wait that long to break the news to "someone" at the very least. But who?

...He thought to himself, "Why not facebook? This seems like a perfect little status update. Rub it in to all of my e-friends! Ha ha, yes, Ill do it...", with that James went to his laptop and began typing;

James Balls Has just won an all expenses paid trip to Paris! Leaving in a week, bitches!!!!!! Wooowowowowowoow!!!!!

Satisfied with his post, he logged off.

With that he drifted to sleep, a broad smile set on his face like blissful mortar. Hours later he awoke to the sound of the phone ringing on his bedside table. He gazed wearily at his alarm clock; 7am. "Oh Kate, your gonna love what I have to tell ya", he said, suddenly awake. He picked up the phone, and let out a cheerful, "Hey baby! Great News!"

"Hahah, fuck off dude! I'm not your baby, you asshole!
"Wha-what the? Who the fuck is this?!", James demanded
"What kind of a response it that, dick breath? Who is this? Fuck man, its Bobby! Your best friend Bobby. The Guy you see at least 3 times a week, Bobby! The same guy you did those unmentionable things in Vegas with, Bobby."
"Ugh, Bobby, what the fuck man? Its Seven am, why are you calling me? Fuck off!"
"Dude. Heard about your little trip there on facebook, bro."
"Ya. So."
"Dude. You've got to take me with you, I hear the bitches are sluts in Paris. Papapapapapow!!!"
"Bobby, are you fucked? Does your brain have cancer? I'm not taking you to Paris! I'm going with Kate, in fact that's who I figured was calling me, fuckhead."
"Phhh. Kate? Ya right - kill your trip, fuck your trip in the ass. You don't need to worry about taking Kate...Look I know your really want to party on this thing, and I figured that you would be forced to take her, so I took care of the situation..."
"What the fuck do you mean, 'took care', Bobby?"
"What I mean is that, I worked out a plan last night when I heard about this on FB. You know how she was comin' in from Pearson this morning?
"Yes, I was aware of that, Bobby"
"Well this morning, I got up early, met her at the airport, sayin' something like, 'Hi Kate, James asked me to pick you up since he didn't want you to take a cab'. She was all like 'Oh Bobby, your such a good guy'. I was all like 'ya', then I drugged her, and locked her in my basement! yeayeayeayeah!!!"
"WHAT!!? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY, BOBBY!!?"
"Chill out, homo. I drugged her, and locked her in my basement not a big deal at all. Now we can go to Paris together, and you get off scott free!
"DUDE! You cannot be serious, You are in a whole FUCKLOAD of TROUBLE, BOBBY! What the FUCK is wrong with you!!?"
"Wow man, you are a punk, a straight punk. I go out of my way to make sure that your trip is filled with banging sluts, and getting wasted, instead of stupid loser couple stuffs, and you take a shit on my efforts. Oh, I'm so sorry, James! I had no idea that you wanted to skip around in a park with stupid Kate all day, instead of getting wasted, and jockin' bitches with your bro. You are a changed man, man."
"Bobby, you'd better hope I never see you again, cuz I will break your skull, you fucking piece of shit!!! Oh, and furthermore, your fucked - I'm about to call the cops."
- Click -

Immediately after hanging up on Bobby, James called the police. They retrieved Kate, unharmed from Bobby's basement. She was chained to the furnace, surrounded by a case of Joe Louis's, and 7 tins of Mountain Dew - it is thought that this would have kept her alive for at least 2 days.
The Police arrested Bobby at a nearby high school, where he was smoking marijuana with teenagers. He is expected to face counts of Kidnapping and Forceable Confinement, to which he faces a maximum of 16 years in a federal penitentiary.

The day before his trip, James dumped Kate cold, and went with his other buddy Frank, who knew a couple of freaky bitches with a place in downtown Paris. Apparently Frank had assured James that "It was on like Donkey Kong."

Lets Go Crazy

It started innocently enough. Samuel had awoken on his couch to discover that the remote control in charge of the TV had morphed into a medium sized Red Snapper. "This is strange. Why is this fish in charge of the operation of my television?", he uttered. Just then, the fish chimed in, and put Samuel in his place, "Do not question my abilities. You may think this is strange, but let me assure you; it is not a'tall. Oh, and further more I demand that you leave the house at once and search for hot sauce"

Samuel was nervous, but his did not wish to upset the fish. He decided it best to get outside, and at least pretend to search for hot sauce. He went to the landing and put on his loafers, which now resembled two hot dogs. He resisted the urge of eating his shoes, noting that he'd best warm up hot dogs first, by walking around town.

He opened the door of his ground floor apartment, and the summer sun hit him like a hot yam. "Motherfucking Fish!", he screamed. Clearly, this was not a day to be outside, but the fish was now calling the shots - there was nothing he could do.

The pavement was so hot, that it began to melt under his feet, causing him to take methodical lunge-like steps. This seemed to attract unwanted attention from many people, as he was unable to avoid bumping into them. These people shot him menacing looks, and began hurling insults his way, which sounded like crickets chirping in the night. This angered Samuel, and he defended his position, "THE FISH NEEDS HOT SAUCE! AUGGGGHHHHHH! This seemed to work - the cricket people had now scurried away.
The sky had now turned blood red. Luckily he recalled that he was in possession of pills given to him by his doctor (who lived in one of the alleys down the street from his apartment). "Mmmmuugghhhh", he said under his breath...
Looking to and fro, he unfurled the saran wrap, and consumed the pills.
"Raaaauuuugggghhh!", cried Samuel. Clenching his fists, he kicked over a garbage can, and screamed "Grace's Red! GRACE'S RED JALAPENO!"
He was on the ground now. Stuck to the floor, on a giant rat trap. "The Fish warned me of this", he said solemnly. He squirmed uselessly about the ground, flapping his feet, like the very fish who had put him in this tricky spot...
Unable to move, "The People" were now all staring at him. They were 8 feet tall, with arms of metal spaghetti. They began converging on him, telling him not to trust the snapper - to come with them to a better place.

He awoke in a room made of marshmallows, hands wrapped in a moth's cocoon. He had failed The Fish. He trembled...

MBW