Love Daddy Lord
A few years ago I had a livejournal blog in which I went by the pseudonym “Love Daddy Lord” much like how on this blog I use the name “General Lordisimo.” It was a pretty great livejournal because I just made a lot of shit up (not to say I don’t do the exact same thing here). Well I happened to find that my livejournal posts still existed and so I’ve decided to copy them all and post them here on this page. I like reading them, some of them are pretty weird and fun. Also several of them confirm the concept of living in the end times so they are worth paying attention too.
Posted on 2005.12.13 at 18:49
So as usual I have been absent for an extended period of time. What can I say, I’m a busy dude. I’ve recently seen a lot of previews for Peter Jackson’s “King Kong” and it reminds me of the time I was lost in the thick jungles of central Africa and had to live with the gorillas. Let me tell you gorillas are bastards. They think that just because they are big and hairy they push smaller people around. I am not a big person and the gorillas though that meant I’d take their abuses. Well I didn’t. I ninja kick assed everyone of those mother fuckers and made them damn sorry that they had ever tried to pick on me. when they saw how uber tough I was they made me their king and I lead them on a three year war campaign against a neighboring tribe of chimpanzees. Yeah there sure was a lot of blood in the jungles those years but let me tell you if you were on the right side there was no better place to live. It was a fricken gorilla paradise. But then some deity or another decided to be an ass-hole and make gorillas and chimpanzees primates of lesser intelligence and the best thing that could be done with them is taking goofy pictures, teaching them sign language, and insulting them with demeaning names like Coco. Coco? Seriously when I lived with the gorillas they had awesome names like Kweelooweloka Mjaboowan which menas “Warrior of Steel and Endless Stamina” I swear if I ever find the deity who screwed over gorillas I will kick his/her ass.
My name amongst the gorillas was Wakanalihv Da’Gambooi which means “Love Daddy Lord Ruler of Time and Space”
Patagonian Wool Farmers and Intergalactic Wiener-Dogs
Posted on 2005.11.04 at 00:34
Well well well. So I guess it has been nearly forever (not quite, but close enough). SO currently I am sitting in my room wondering rather intently whether I desire reviving sleep or if I want to eat something.
I’m sure you are all dying to know where I have been for the last two months. Well I’ll start by informing you that thee is a lot that the government has been hiding from you and I plan on disclosing some of it in the following. You see I was recently involved in secret operations to make peace with a warring band of Patagonia Wool Farmers. That’s right recent globalization throughout the world has rendered the patagonian wool industry almost obsolete. It all has to do with those new space age microfibers and polar fleece and junk like that.
With the sudden loss of market the wool farmers were forced to consume their flocks because they were no longer making enough money to buy bullets for their guns so that they could hunt giant flightless birds that have been thought extinct for millions of years but in actuality are the best eats in the Patagonian desert. It is really a tragic story for the wool farmers but it is no excuse for the measures they took to be noticed. That’s right folks the Patagonian Wool Farmer Association bought out all the major cruise ship lines in the world. Now one may say “Oh cool, hey even the Patagonians deserve some fun and enterprising.” But this is just ignorant kucky talk. Fools I say, those wool farmers were not interested in enterprising. They were going to scrap the ships and build a giant rocket to go to the moon and chances are they would have succeeded if I hadn’t stepped in.
The problem is this, even though we’ve all been told that people have been to the moon the reality is that there isn’t a moon at all, it is just a massive hallucination that all people have that has been sustained for thousands of years. In fact scientists are trying right now to isolate the elusive moon seeing gene so that we no longer must suffer its wiley lies.
So now you’re probably wondering what exactly the Patagonians were going to do once their rocket reached the imaginary place of the moon. Well the gene that makes the false moon in our brains was placed their thousands of years ago by a band of intergalactic space wiener-dogs who are in fact responsible for the very development of human civilization. Right where we think the moon is is actually a worm-hole to their alternative universe. If the Patagonians had succeeded in building the rocket and going to the moon they would have entered the other dimension where they would inevitably try and domesticate the far more intelligent space wiener-dogs. All would have been hell our space friends would have been insulted and probably would have smoted all of earth with semi-annoying dog like yapping on all the wave bands of AM radio. That’s right it would have been devastating.
Fortunately for all I managed to buy off the Patagonian Cruise ship shares and with work with the international community I got wool production back into gear. So once again I Love Daddy Lord am responsible for thwarting disaster. Praise are more than welcome.
Okay, farewell for now, or like another couple months or so because I forget that some of you out there all sit around frothing at the mouth waiting for my next posting.
Posted on 2005.09.06 at 22:45
oh no, I just deleted my last update before I could post. Here I’ll sumerize it for you.
1. No hands due to laser turkey carver accident
2. Devouted team of robotic scientists and genetic engeneers
3. A pair of uber awesome bio-botic killhands
4. Lots of sex, drugs, and rock n roll
5. Large credit card debt
6. A couple nuclear warheads up Mastercard’s proverbial ass
7. World happiness and peace
Yeah it’s been a busy last couple of months. But anyhow here I am again with new hands and debt free. Earlier today I was thinking about whether I wanted to eat macaronni and cheese for lunch or not and I chose not which turned out to be the wrong answer. You see if I had eaten the macarroni and cheese that was in the fridge the smell would most likely not have attracted hordes of horrid insects called ants. I planned on frying their asses with a good ol’ can o Raid but I didn’t have any so instead I decided to uses always handy personal teleportation device to go to South America to get an Ant-Eater. Well i got one and brought it back to my apartment with hopes that it would quickly and effectively eliminate my ant infestation, but no such fucking luck you see because the piece of crap Ant-Eater happened to have some kind of moral problem with the consumption of ants. So I had no choice but to burn down the apartment, blame the arsony on the Ant-Eater. Sure I could have just gone out and bought a can of Raid and that would have been easier and allowed me to keep my housing, but we Djibutians are a complicated people and a simple sulution such as that does nothing but make us gassy. And I very much doubt you wanted to deal with a gassy Love Daddy Lord, you may recall the incident of May 3rd, 1979.
Want to know a good word? Myopic, that’s a damn good word, just thought I’d tell you.
I didn’t feel like editing this post, just ignore errors, or be bitches and point them all out I don’t really care.
I’ve got gas.
I’ve returned at long last
Posted on 2005.07.04 at 00:27
Greetings adoring public. I, Love Daddy Lord, at long last have returned after a lengthy and strenuous absence. Now I know you are all probably dying to hear what happened to me but you’ll have to be patient for this story may take some time to unravel.
It all starts back in 1973 when I was doing some undercover work for the CIA in the small and hardly known South American nation of Bela Dellonee (the only South American nation that speaks Mandarin Chinese as the national language). My job back in ’73 was to lead guerilla uprising against the relatively pacifistic government of the time. Of course my mission was successful and a much more United States approved government of a ruthless genocidal dictatorship was installed (and the national language was changed to Lithuanian). Drug Lords moved in and corrupted the Bela Dellonee economy and terrorist groups organized in the hills.
Well all was well, or so I thought, when, right before my departure, I cam across a terribly secret that lay deep within the Bela Dellonee rainforest (and probably any other rainforest in the world for that matter). The CIA got to me quickly and made me promise to keep my mouth shut about it (the promising process took a lot of threats, bribes, and free season tickets the Red Sox for the next fifty years). All was good, I promised to keep quiet and have for thirty-two years, until just a few week ago.
It is of course summer and I had decided to go and visit one of my friends for a couple of days. This friend of my, a chap named Nate, lives in one of the New England states (I don’t feel that it is necessary to disclose which one). Well soon after meeting my friend in his home state of New Hampshire (damnit!) I noticed that he was acting a little funny. My suspicion was aroused by the similarity in his behavior and the actions of people I had seen back in Bela Dellonee in ’73. Upon arriving at Nate’s abode my suspicion was proven true, my friend was a Parrot Zombie!
You see what I had learned back in ’73 was that deep in the rainforests of the world dwell particularly vile undead beings with vague resemblance to birds (meaning that they have beaks and feathers and fly with wings). But alas these are no birds but are instead the twisted spawn of all the dreaded evils of hell. These hideous beings are commonly called Parrots and Parakeets and they possess the awful powers to turn normal people into aptly called Parrot Zombies.
That is what had happened to Nate. You see two Parakeets had connived their way into his household (possibly posing as Jehovah’s Witnesses or Cutco Knife Sales Reps). Soon my friend was in their clutches. Luckily I was able to break the curse being a certified Djibutian Witch-Doctor and all. Within moments of freeing my friend from his enslavement I heard a horrifying shriek as the two demon spawns flew at me. Luckily for me I had my trusty exploding ninja stars and I fried those fowl something fierce.
Well to make a long story short I had saved my friend but then had to clear up a lot of shit with the CIA (I had of course broken the promise of silence, and actually am continuing to break that promise by writing this right now). Anyhow after a few weeks of bureaucratic mumbo jumbo and then a long period of Zombie killing and Parrot purging I’ve finally returned home. Unfortunately my friend Nate has no recollection of the whole occurrence he’ll probably say this whole story is bullshit and point out that pirates had parrots ( but of course most pirates were zombies, I mean honestly any idiot should know that). To keep Nate appeased I had to build him two Robo-Parakeets that passed as close look-a-likes to those zombifying hellions.
I may not be back for awhile again as I have been called to fight an on going war against the woodchucks of the world. I’ll try my best to keep ya’ll posted.
Peacerinos for now,
Love Daddy Lord
Gay Antler Boy
Posted on 2005.05.18 at 17:12
At lunch today Mad and I were discussing the difficulty that antler people suffer in this world (antler people being those people who have antlers, not horns, those are permanent, antlers fall off every year, damn those horn people and their year round head spikes). Anyway Mad and I were talking about how it is really hard for antler people to find love in this world because for starts normal people (those people without antlers) don’t want to be seen hanging out with an antler head so quite naturally antler people do not find love amongst normal people. So that limits love to other antler people (never horn people, antler people and horn people have had a blood feud with one another for thousands of years, it’s not really sure how the feud started but it probably had something to do with an unripened mango and underwater basket weaving). Well you see there is a shortage of of antler people in the world, there may only be about five hundred of them or so, and only one of these antler people is homosexual. Oh how tragic that gay antler boy will never find love, for all beings deserve the right to love. So all alone poor gay antler boy wanders the world hoping that someday he may find a fellow gay antler lover. But alas he never does and he ends up getting a shitty white color desk job and drinks too much coffee, and looks at gay antler porn (you don’t have to be gay to make gay porn, you just have to need money). But then a great miracle happens and gay antler boy by chances meets another gay antler person, because you see there were really two homosexual antler people all along. And they fall in love and move to Vermont and get a civil union, and have a house, and adopt a little antler baby and all is good. And in their spare time they skewer fundamental preachers who say homosexuality is sinful, because honestly God could give less of a fuck about whether or not people are gay or not. And the gay antler couple signs a movie deal and there are lots of explosions, and Saddam, and dinosaurs. It bows away the Oscars, winning 24 (there has to be at least that many Oscars) and just when everything is looking great a giant asteroid crashes into the earth and causes a complete extinction of life. The end.
Posted on 2005.05.13 at 14:39
The other day I was going somewhere when I went past a place with a sign that said “Mary Dragon Real Estate” Well honestly I have to say I was surprised by this. First off I had been pretty certain up until reading the sign that dragons had been wiped out in the middle-ages (this includes all dragons chinese or western or whatever else you want to call them). Second, I was surprised that an existing dragon would be allowed to get a real estate license in such a competitive day and age. But then again I suppose being both a dragon and a real estate agent would have its benefits. For one the awesome ability to breathe fire would be a great way to scare off the competition. And for pay you could make cool demands like a young virgin to be sacrificed to appease draconic rage. I bet the ability to fly would really help in staking out new potential land. I guess really all real estate should be conducted by dragons, yeah dragons or gnomes because what is cooler than a gnome and “a home isn’t a home without a gnome.”
I later met Mary dragon and she is pretty damn cool, and I me that besides the fact that she is a giant winged fire breathing serpent. Great sense of humor and a keen eye for prospective real estate.
Uds — The Toilet Worshipers of Residece Halls
Posted on 2005.05.11 at 12:13
Hello, I haven’t posted for a awhile and I’m sure you’ve all been just devastated without my wisdom so I’ve returned.
Last night I decided that I had to take a piss (yes on occasions I have to piss) so I walked down the hall to the floor bathroom and walked into the first toilet stall only to find the toilet filled with the most foully yellow urine and several bottles of like liquid lining the rim of the ceramic waste container. Well at first I thought it was just a bunch of stupid immature college students who had done this but I quickly caught myself realizing that it is a well know fact that college students are neither stupid or immature (hence the reason why they are college students and not children who have to be reminded to flush the toilet and have their mommies wipe their asses). So I concluded that this toilet had become a subject of a toilet worshiping cult of small gnomish beings known only as Uds in our language. Uds live primarily in the walls of college residence halls and feed on the various trash products left around by sloppy college students (Uds must not eat a lot because another well known fact is that college students are rarely if ever sloppy). I decided to go piss in another toilet so as not to disturb the Uds’ alter or shrine of worship. Hopefully they’ll be considerate to move their place of worship somewhere else in the future.
If you catch an Ud and rub it’s belly either your toes will fall off or you’ll be able to fly. In may opinion it’s worth a try.
There is no sarcasm in this piece.
Groundhogs = Woodchucks
Posted on 2005.05.05 at 10:12
Did you know that groundhogs are the same thing as woodchucks? That means that groundhogs are also our enemies. You see the whole groundhog name came about as a way for woodchucks to try to flank our defenses. They reasoned that humans would be to preoccupied to make the connection that groundhogs were just woodchucks using a different name they also may have thought humans were too stupid. Well however it came about it’s working and now we have few woodchucks and lots of groundhogs, and you know who their ringleader is? That’s right, that one that is suppose to see his shadow or not, Poxitony Phil, the biggest celebrity those damn dirty rodents have. And when he’s held up in the air on television what most of you don’t know is he is giving orders to thousands of groundhogs/woodchucks all over the world. You see he is telepathic (and if you follow the steps of my earlier posting you can be too). Anyway the next time a slimy fur ball comes up to you and says “Hi, I’m a groundhog can you point me to the local archives?” Do you know what you must do? You must scream, “No you’re a slimy woodchuck,” and proceed to kick them out of the way. Do not point them to the local archives because those wiley woodchucks will most likely find multiple zoning violations and water hazards, bring them to the attention of corrupt officials, who will proceed to do nothing while continuing making a living on bribes from greasy haired contractors named Vick. Damn those woodchucks, damn them to hell.
Posted on 2005.05.05 at 00:55
Sometimes I wonder what all the big deal is with Cell Phones, I just don’t see it. For starters they cost tons of money and are annoying as hell. They are probably emitting dangerous zappto rays or something which is inevitably turning users brains into a substances easily comparable to melted crayons (I call them kranz). Also there are much more reliable ways of communicating with people, like telepathy. Now I’m sure most of you don’t have even the faintest idea how to communicate via telepathy and that is why I am going to try and help you out. I, personally being a master of psychic powers, am more than certified to give you this lesson on telepathy and how you too can communicate with your mind. Here is the step by step process.
1). First get rid of your damn cell phone so that you are not tempted to use it in a sellout like manner (if you do sellout you are weak and undeserving of the air you breathe).
2). Make a helmet of tin foil with one or two long antennas on top. These helmets help beginners channel incoming and outgoing telepathic messages. Make sure to wear your helmet everywhere.
3). Prolonged periods of seclusion. Whether you know it or not the world is a very noisy psychic place and that can be distracting to beginners.
4). If you don’t start picking up telepathic frequencies within a day or two of donning your helmet then there might be something wrong. Do not panic we might be able to pull through. I usually recommend heavy intake of hallucinogenic drugs with continually beating ones skull on a desk or brick wall. This may help open the brain to recieving telepathic communication waves or it could cause sever concussions and lead to a prolonged catatonic state
5). If nothing works do not go back to your damn cell phone, instead just except that you suck at life and arn’t worthy of communication or don’t I don’t really care either way.
it should be noted that I don’t take responsibility for any negative consequences that occur due to following the above procedure, more or less perform at own risk. Have fun with it too, decorate your foil helmet and try narcotics instead of hallucinogens for awhile. Hey you never know right?
Posted on 2005.05.04 at 16:04
When God created the universe, the world, and everything he had a perfect plan for the chosen beings of Earth. These chosen ones were naturally nuts (as in walnuts, and chestunts, and almonds, not testicles you perverts). Why nuts you may ask? Well because nuts have super hard protective shells and they are awesome. Now I’m sure any religious people out there would say this is absurd and humans are obviously the chosen ones while scientists would probably point out that nuts are just casings that protect seeds of various plants and that their shells really arn’t all that protective. Well both religious people and scientists are wrong and I’m right. Nuts are the chosen ones and until the coming of humans and nutcrackers their shells were virtually indestructible. Humans were a mistake that God meant to throw out with other mess-ups like the platypus and avocados. Unfortunately the trash-bag ripped and a whole bunch of stuff ended up on Earth instead of in the divine dumping grounds. Well these terrible wretches (yes I’m speaking of humans, you should all be ashamed of being such) went about and invented all sorts of crazy things and the worst of all were nutcrackers (especially those really creepy ones that look like funky bearded men, those are just weird, and there never should have been any music made to honor them). So humans consume millions of God’s chosen ones each year and God would do something about it but he lost control of Earth to Galacto the Super Infinity Computer after a long night of poker and drinking.
End of. . . .everything
Posted on 2005.05.03 at 19:52
Are you prepared for the end of the age of oil? I don’t mean olive oil or vegetable oil I mean that black tar stuff that is used to make gasoline and plastic and do all sorts of magical wonderful things. You see that black oil that we are so dependent on is a natural resource and because it takes millions of years to form under intense pressure and heat within the earth it is also a finite resource (unless we invent some amazing miracle device that can speed the process up). Now humans are not good at controlling use of limited resources and so inevitably we will eventually run out of oil at which point we will have to find some other way to live but chances are this isn’t going to happen and we are going to be thrown into a post-apocalyptic world much like the one seen in the Mad Max movies. In fact the Mad Max movies were not so much cheaply made Australian science fiction as they were carefully thought out conjectures of the hellish future to come (unless global warming continues, in which case we’re are looking more at Waterworld). But whether we’ll find saviors in bad ass fundamental Australian Christians like Mel Gibson or in half-assed semi-decent actors like Kevin Costner doesn’t really matter because either way our lives will be drastically changed. Now from watching these movies I have gathered that in these dark futures we’ll have to defend ourselves anyway we can from motorcycle/skidoo riding pirates with cool names like The Toecutter and awesome hair like Tina Turner. So i suggest you start making your armor right now, and if i were you I’d use tin cans because metal is probably your best bet fro protecting vital organs. I would also recommend stockpiling weapons like axes because some day bullets are going to run out and honestly not very many people know how to use bows.
Now for some of you this future probably seems quite terrifying because you are lazy and have no will to fight Tina Turner. Well there is little I can do for you save say that it is too bad but you are likely to become her minions of evil (and no being Tina Turner’s minion of evil is’t hot or fun, you’ll probably be made into a eunuch).
Yes the future is apt to be quite difficult and scary and after thousands of year so f evolution well probably be separated into two different species called the Eloi and Morlocks. There are ups and downs to both species really. If you’re a Morlock you get to eat pretty well and play with all sorts of long forgotten technology but butt-ugly and smell like sweat and feces. If you’re a Eloi you’re drop dead gorgeous with great singing voices and very peaceful but your also too big a pansy to protect yourself from being eaten by hairy grunting Morlocks. It’ll be a really tough time for both. And then one day the sun will expand and Earth will be burnt into a crisp, and the universe will keep growing and get colder and colder until there are no stars or galaxies just distantly scattered black-holes spewing out funky radiation. Hurray for the future!
On a side note penguins are cool, much cooler than most of you (Not cool like because they ive in Antarctica, but cool like totally awesome). There is also a possibility that like emus they are from another planet, in fact I think birds in general are from another planet. Oh yeah, dinosaurs didn’t exist, scientists just made them up because that’s what scientists do, make shit up, like going to the moon and evolution. I mean really are we suppose to believe all the evidence they have to back it up? Wackos.
Posted on 2005.04.30 at 22:43
In the year 1882 off the coast of a small Chinese port a ship landed and off of it swarmed thousands of Emus. Now probably a lot of you are pretty sure that Emus are an Australian bird but you are wrong. Emus are not native to Australia at all, neither are they native to China where they appeared in 1882. In fact Emus are actually an ancient race of highly intelligent galactic conquerors that have brought havoc and destruction to none less than thirty-four star systems, that was until they came to Earth. The Emus over estimated the powers of humans and soon found their weapons completely ineffective. By 1885 all the original Emus on China had been eaten (they had come to China on the above mentioned ship which was stolen from a French Captain named Claude De Verte who was the most notorious basket smuggler of his days, in actuality he was the only basket smuggler of his days and any days for that matter, basket smuggling is just kind of ridiculous really). Well anyway the Emus thought that they could use the gigantic island of Australia as a base of operation but that really didn’t work out too well. Humans have more or less domesticated the descendants of the original Emus to come to this planet. Still these farm raised Emus cannot help looking up into the night sky wondering when their mother ship will arrive and turn all their human enslavers into rice pudding.
Just thought I’d share this with you all
Beware! I possess the Rod of Discipline and don’t mind using it
Posted on 2005.04.28 at 21:54
Only moments ago I had to use one of the most powerful objects ever created. I swear that I unleashed this awesome force only as a last resort (in which I mean that I used it to enforce obedience from a disrespectful hooligan). The object of which I speak is the one and only all powerful Rod of Discipline (yes tremble in fear puny mortals for I do possess the above said rod and I do use it from time to time). Now there may be some of you who, in your laughable ignorance, have never heard of the Rod of Discipline in which case you should be ashamed and plead for mercy. The Rod of Discipline is one of the few remaining artifacts of wonder from long forgotten days. I made it myself thousands of years ago when the gods walked the Earth and real heroes and heroines did battle against terrifying monsters from hellish worlds. Now in appearance the Rod of Discipline looks kind of like a paper tower roll that has been wrapped in lots and lots of duct tape, which is just what it is (not known to many paper towel and duct tape have been around for millions of years, they both predate humans by a good couple millenniums). So the Rod of Discipline may not look like much but it makes up for appearance in the realms of awesome disciplinary power. Only a real fool would dare challenge a wielder of the Rod of Discipline and those who do are never the same again. Tonight I had to unfortunately use the Rod against my friend Kyle who thought it would be funny to squirt me with a squirt gun (it was not funny, we Djibutians take great offense from having water put on us when it is administered through a brightly colored toy resembling various firearms). Well needless to say I disciplined Kyle something fierce with the Rod and now he’ll never make the mistake of squirting me again.
What happens to one who has been disciplined by the Rod? Well it varies. Some people loose the ability to do that thing that Spock does with his fingers when he says his crazy space elf sayings. Others develop a strong aversion for beet soup (I think it’s called borscht). One effect that is fairly common is people become convinced that there are unicorns (sadly they can’t be convinced that Unicorns went extinct like thirty years ago, which they did). I’ve heard of cases of people who after being disciplined gain the ability to walk backwards without ever crashing into anything but when they try to walk forward they immediately fall right on their faces. The effects are many and vary from person to person, some are worse than others and some are better (like being able to see the color obi).
So if you’re wise you’ll never anger me because if you do I might just go get the Rod of Discipline and teach you a serious lesson or I might just snap my fingers and cause you to cease existing, whatever, it’s all good to me.
Oh yeah, I can see the color obi, and it is without a doubt the best color, it makes all others look shitty and weak.
If you’re waiting for the apocalypse. . . . sorry, you missed out.
Posted on 2005.04.26 at 09:20
Being who I am I happen to know a lot of very secret things about life, the universe, and anything that really matters. Now knowing these secrets constitutes a lot of responsibility, which I very often choose to ignore. Sure I’ve had threats to be turned into lukewarm mashed potatoes if I can’t keep my mouth shut, but I’m not scared, microwaves can warm anything up.
What I am about to tell you is one of those top secret utterly shocking things that I know, and for some of you out there it may erase all meaning for your life (but don’t panic right yet there may be good news at the end). Here is this very top secret, and I’m telling this mostly to the fanatic doomsday prophets and disciples, you’ve missed out, the apocalypse has already come and gone. Now at this point I’m sure that a bunch of you are just standing with your mouths hanging open while drool slowly creeps to the floor, I tell you to stop immediately, drool is gross. Yes it is quite a shock learning that the end of days has come and gone and you’ve missed out, but no worries, most of the world missed out. You see it all happened back in September of 1986 (according to my birth certificate I was only about two years old then, which was just a tactful lie so that I might fit in with this society, it also says I’m American, another lie, pure Djibutian blood here). Well in September of 1986 I was just chilling out one day, minding my own business when I was visited by a benevolent race of telepathic space toads. These space toads had learned that our world was only a few days away from its ultimate end and being the benevolent amphibians that they are they were going to build a new identical world for us and move everybody over to it, then they’d fit the new one in at the gap left by the old one. Well that is just what they did. Also using there telepathic powers they created false memories for everybody so that none recall this event taking place. So they moved everybody and the apocalypse came to the old world and I know what you’re wondering, did I meet the riders of the apocalypse and were they awesome. The answer is yes I met the riders and if by awesome you mean absolutely kick ass at volleyball then also yes because those riders could sure play a mean volleyball. All around the apocalypse was a really good time, kind of like a world wide party in which the drunks finally succeed in their drunken goal, which is to destroy everything. Alas though it was over all too soon and I had to go to the new world like everybody else, I watched as the old one blinked out of existence.
Now I’m sure a lot of you who believed that doomsday was coming are really upset right now because I’ve just burst your bubble by saying its already come, but fret not, you see the space toads made this new world exactly as it had been back in 1986 so that nobody would know the difference. So the new world was already running short on natural resources, had big pollution problems, a dying ozone, and lots of unpleasant war. So have faith, if humans keep at it this new world will probably come to an end in the next century or so.
Dancing Mummies are Hilarious
Posted on 2005.04.25 at 17:06
The other night (not tonight, or yesterday, the night before that) I was really bored, so I had my friends make me into a mummy so that I could terrorize the villagers. That’s right they removed my organs and brain, filled me with spices and salts, dried me for thousands of years, and then brought me back to life using forbidden spells from “The Book of the Dead”. Well once I was all mummified and walking around I quickly made way to the village to do the classic evil monster rampage (this was all in black and white because monsters are scarier that way). Then the villagers decided to form an angry mob and burn down my castle (mummies can have castles, there is no law saying that they have to be in pyramids). I escaped with only a few wrappings burnt. Well without a castle in which to do the things that mummies do I decided to hit it big in Vegas with my own dance troupe, because mummies dancing might be the most hilarious thing ever seen. When I got bored of being a mummy I drank a magic concoction that tasted like raspberries and motor oil which changed me back to my normal self. It ended up being a good night.
I don’t really know what I was trying to get at with the above story, maybe something along the lines of “Mummies are really super awesome and everyone should aspire to be one”. Oh yeah by an earlier popular demand I am suppose to inform everybody that teeny boppers suck, which they most certainly do.
Posted on 2005.04.21 at 22:51
Until only a few minutes ago I was at a party. Now there is something I want you all to know about the parties I attend. You see the parties that I attend are like the parties that you attend, only better (unless you happen to be at a party that I am also at). Part of the reason that the parties I attend are so much better than those that you attend has to do with the fact that my parties are almost always also attended by my friend Mad. Yes that’s right I have a friend named Mad. Now you might be wondering why she is so named and the easy answer is that it is short for Madeleine but really there is a much more complex and interesting story behind her naming. You see years ago Madeleine was a very sweet, kind , and innocent girl who liked to pick flowers and skip through fields and do all those things that such stereotypical girls do. Then one day as she was skipping along, as happy as any number of things commonly associated with being happy, she came upon a rally of angry protesters. Madeleine being the naive young girl she was at the time stopped and listened and soon her ears were filled with the horrors of modern globalizing enterprises raping the natural wonders of the world for the sole purpose of setting up smog producing industries that employ under fed eight year old asians to work in perilous conditions, fourteen hours a day, while only making twelve American cents in that time period. Well as Madeleine heard all this she began to change. First it was a small peeved spark that quickly grew into a vehement rage. She was no longer innocent sweet Madeleine, she had been transformed into Mad and from that day on she swore to do battle against the injustices of the world. Unfortunately that battle has been slowing going, Mad really doesn’t have any cool super powers except that she can dance for hours without needing any water. Also her quest towards justice has been repeatedly distracted by alcohol and partying. Fortunately for all of us who know Mad she is one of the awesomest partiers ever (and with that dancing skill of hers any party she goes to is bound to be a wild time). Mad is still, needless to say, mad, and one has to be careful when partying with her as to not make her any more mad for chances are if one does anger her more she’ll quickly dispose of such offender with swift disembowelment. Mad also happens to be friends with Taylor the cyborg and together they can easily wipe out a whole army of oppressive CEO’s who steal money from babies and burn sapling trees.
Honestly I know the coolest people in the world, I’ll present more of them in the future.
What’s in the name?
Posted on 2005.04.21 at 14:20
Some people have been curious as to how I got the name Love Daddy Lord so I’ve decided to do everybody a favor and explain the name. Because my name consists of three distinct parts I will take each one on individually. So to start with we have Love. Besides the fact that I am the greatest lover of all times I also promote love amongst humans and other animals capable of feeling such emotions (like dolphins and armadillos)so that is essentially the reason why love is in my name. Next we have Daddy, now I am not the father of any children (well any legitimate children at least) so Daddy does not apply in that sense, in fact the whole daddy thing doesn’t really apply in any meaningful sense except that it pulls the whole name together to sound totally and undeniably awesome. I would say that the final part of the name is the most obvious. Lord, quite obviously this is in my name to make it clear that I am without a doubt the Lord of all that exists (or at least all that matters). Anyone who disagrees with that point is just puny and foolish. So there you have it that’s where the name comes from. Now some have asked if Love Daddy Lord is my real name, the answer being no, that is not my birth name. Unfortunately I cannot reveal my true name, not so much because it is a secret but more so because it is a Djibutian name which most people would be unable to read much less comprehend.
How to grow own Pope
Posted on 2005.04.19 at 23:42
Because of the recent death of Pope John Paul II and the selection of the new Pope I’ve decided to share a very ancient and secret process with you. Yes that’s right I am going to tell you how new Popes are grown so that you can go out and grow one yourself. Now chances are if you ask any Catholics if the following is true they’ll say I’m just some blasphemous heathen who has high-jacked sanctity for the sheer pleasure of entertaining the masses. Well then I’d have to ask them to define heathen, because if they are talking about the kind that dances in stone circles well painted in goats blood then count me in but if they are talking about those new age crystal hippies let it be known that I’ll see to it that they suffer forever (and ever).
Anyway now for the secret on how to grow a Pope. It all has to do with the name. Have you ever noticed how there are like a ton of Pope Innocents and Urbans and Benedictus and all that jazz. I mean there have been two Pope John Pauls (that explains the Pope John Paul II). Now you may not know this but the Catholic church does not wait until they can find somebody named Innocent before they get a new Pope, these names are not the birth names of the Popes but names given upon rising to the level of Popeosity. But now you are probably wondering how they choose the specific name for each new Pope. Well you see all the Cardinals get together and and with their combined power they transfer the soul of one Pope to the new one so that really there have only been a handful of Popes just using different bodies. So John Paul II was really the same Pope as John Paul I just in a different body. Now say that the Cardinals decided that they want another Pope to be in charge for awhile well in that case they go down to the catacombs beneath the Vatican dig up the last Pope with the desired name and they reawaken the slumbering spirit and place it into the new host body. The unfortunate thing about this system is that the body who will host the Pope has no idea whatsoever that their identity will be entirely sucked away from them (Hey no system of forming an enlightened religious leader is perfect, don’t even get me started on the Dahli Lama).
So there you have it that’s how the Popes are made. So if you want to get your own Pope all you need to do is go to the Vatican dig up some graves and chant some divine prayers. Now some may believe that there is actually a rigorous elective process preformed by the Cardinals that is actually very democratic but that’s just silly really, I mean honestly electing a Pope, where do you people get your whacky ideas?
Chances are that the fact that I’ve revealed such a sacred right will bring mobs of angry Catholics down on me screaming that I’m a witch and in need of burning unless I repent my sins in which I will gladly respond, “No I’m a warlock, witches are female and I’m obviously male, dumbasses.”
I do complex logarithms and destroy time
Posted on 2005.04.19 at 19:58
For the first time ever I was late for work today, and not just like a few minutes late but a whole hour late. Now you may be wondering why in hell I was so late for work today (or maybe your not wondering, and if that’s so then why are you still reading this shit?). Well it is possible that I just forgot that I had to be at work at 1 instead of 2 but it is even more possible that I was on my way to work when the president phoned me saying that an incredibly contagious virus had just been unleashed in Washington and my aid was needed in devising a cure (one of my many skills is creating miraculous cures to various plagues and delivering them to distant cities in less than an hour). Well in all honesty neither of the above cases are the reason for my tardiness(even as likely as the second case my be). What actually happened was that I was sitting in my room working on some really complex logarithms and algorithms when I accidentally deconstructed time from the very reality in which we exist. Now of course this put me in a pretty stressful condition seeing as human understanding of existence relies on time (fortunately my understanding of existence does not). So you see I was determined to reconstruct time and make sure that all the humans of this planet could continue going about their lives (your welcome, as I’ve already said I don’t need time and so the only reason I bothered to reconstruct it at all was for the benefit of mortals like you). Well seeing as I had not even meant to deconstruct time in the first place I was at a bit of a loss at how to reconstruct it but as you all know I am a genius and managed to figure it out. Unfortunatly not knowing completely what I was doing I was unable to cordinate time exactly to where I had left off and instead ended up and hour in the future, right when I should have been at work. So there it is my amazing story about being late to work. I n the future should I tear time apart again I will have had some practice putting it back together already and so hopefully won’t need to worry about being late anywhere.
I know cyborgs and you don’t (well you might but I don’t care)
Posted on 2005.04.18 at 23:39
I happen to be blessed by knowing several cyborgs. The closest of these half human half machine beings is named Taylor and he once saved my life from an onslaught of rabid woodchucks. Taylor became a cyborg because one day he was playing with a lighter and lit half of his body on fire (we are not really clear whether it was an accident or not). Well fortunately for Taylor there have been many recent technical advances in cyborg technology and we were able too keep him alive while fusing his remaining working body to mechanical organs and limbs. But Taylor is not the only Cyborg that I know. I know several famous cyborgs like Jennifer Lopez. I also know a whole multitude of less famous cyborgs. Now I’m sure there are some individuals who would be against being friendly to these machine-people but those said individuals are just worthless dolts who don’t see the benefit of being friends with such powerful beings. As far as I can tell in something like fifteen years most of the population will be cyborgs and those who arn’t will most likely be cowboys and cowgirls. Cyborgs have lots of awesome powers like laser eyes and rocket boots. Do you have rocket boots? I don’t think so (unless you happen to be a cyborg). So if you meet a cyborg I recommend that you be friends with them and join their cause because if you don’t you are destined to become a cow person and let me tell you cows will certainly be extinct within the next seven years.
When Djibutians register for class
Posted on 2005.04.18 at 12:44
We Djibutians (for that is what people from Djibuti like myself are called) are a proud people and we don’t like to be bothered by minor inconveniences. Just this morning I was registering for classes at the University which I attend and was denied one of the classes I wished to take. I tried several different ways to register for the class and still nothing worked. Now being the Djibutian that I am I took offense to this, especially seeing as today was the first day of registration and all the classes should be open. I decided that it was my civic duty to do something about this atrocity and so I went to the registrars office and rose hell. Now you may not know this but when we Djibutians say we raise hell we literally mean it, we use our witch-doctor powers to summon grand demons from all nine plains of hell. Well needless to say that got the attention of the registrars office and they quickly offered their assistance. Unfortunately I discovered that it was no fault of the registrars office that I could not register for the class you see at this university nearly eighty-four years ago a curse was planted so that none may ever register for Fundamentals of Latin 1. The school still lists the class in hopes that some day the curse will go away but it hasn’t thus far. After I learned this I was at a loss with what to do with the demons I had summoned so I decided that we’d play frisbee. It was one hell of a game.
Toe lint is boring
Posted on 2005.04.18 at 07:33
Let me just tell you something, if you are using live journal or a similar internet journal kind of thing to write about waking up, eating breakfast, and picking lint out from between your toes then you are boring. That’s right, boring, B-O-R-I-N-G. If your life really is that boring that the best you have to write about is toe lint then you may as well do society a favor and just shut the hell up. On the other hand if you live an exciting and dangerous life then please continue to inform your adoring public. I tell interesting stories (which are all true. . . .well mostly true) deserving of recognition. I tell stories like about the time I got my finger stuck in a salt shaker while I was trying to battle twelve undead ninjas. My life is exciting, I haven’t been awake for even an hour and already I’ve negotiated peace between two warring tribes of subterranean lizard people and had satillite meetings with the leaders of the world. Now I know that I can’t be the only interesting person in the world (because if I am then what the hell am I doing on such a boring planet) so I’m asking, no pleading, no more boring toe lint stories please.
I invented the Sandwich
Posted on 2005.04.17 at 21:37
Okay, I know that I may have already written something earlier this very day but as it was a writing about something that I did yesterday I feel that it is alright to add something else, as in that which I am adding right now. Oh yeah and if anyone feels like criticizing me on my choice to write two things in one day let it be known that I know who you are and will find where you live.
You might not be aware of this but every time you eat a sandwich you are paying tribute to one of my more successful inventions. Unfortunately that bastard the Earl of Sandwich sidestepped me and slapped his name on them. You see it all happened some several hundred years ago (I’m not sure of the exact date but it was a long time ago, oh yeah I’m really millions of years old which explains how I was around back then). I was chilling out at my bungalow one day (everybody rocked the bungalows back then, it was a kind of fad that I started) when my neighbor, the Earl of Sandwich, stopped by for some sugar (fucker was always in need of sugar). I answered the door while holding my new lunch meal made of meat, vegetables, and condiments between two slices of bread. Ray (that was the Earls first name) was very impressed by my creation and asked for a bite. Now being the nice guy I am I offered to make him one of these delicious treats, he was very grateful and took it on his way with a cup of sugar. Little did I suspect that the bastard would take my creation to town and have a big fat patent slapped on it with his name. Well when I found out needless to say I was pretty rip shit pissed at that slimy eel but instead of acting all irrational and beating him to a bloody pulp I contacted my friends Znord and Zuluum, extraterrestrials from the planet Iqliwm II. They abducted Ray, the Earl of Sandwich, and packed him so full of anal probes that he didn’t shit right for years.
So next time you eat a sandwich be a little grateful and say, “Thank you Love Daddy Lord you truly are the greatest person ever.” And oh yeah for any of you scum who think it would be cool to piss me off, I still happen to be pretty close with those two aliens and they always love a good anal probing.
People have no fucking clue that woodchucks are plotting to take over the world
Posted on 2005.04.17 at 19:03
Okay, let me tell you something that may shock and horrify all you people out there: woodchucks are plotting to take over the world. That’s it, that’s what I had to say, you can take it or leave it, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when one day there comes a knock at your door and you open it to find yourself face to face with a horde of maniacal rabid woodchucks.
Just the other day (this day being the day that is not today but was yesterday instead)a friend and I were walking home from an undisclosed location(by undisclosed I refer to my secret underground lair that only I and my closest most trustworthy friends know anything about). Anyway, we were walking home, and when we got within the vicinity of our place of residence we saw this guy walking into a building. Nothing special about this event at first but then we noticed an animal hot on his heels. I grabbed my friend and told her to stand still, not to make any sudden movements. She was all like, “Why not, what the hell are you doing?” So I pointed to the animal and explained how it was without a doubt a ravenous woodchuck. She laughed and said I was ridiculous and the animal was obviously the man’s dog. A moment later she saw just how ridiculous I was when that woodchuck leapt into the air, landed on the man’s back, and proceeded to decapitate him. I tell you the scream that he let out was so blood curdling that even thinking about it now makes me almost vomit all over the place. You see I knew it was a woodchuck all along because I am a genius and obviously know the difference between a woodchuck and a dog. Back to the story though, my friend, a female of my age, let out her own scream when she witnessed the man’s head fall to the ground as the woodchuck entered his lifeless corpse through the esophagus. I tried to cover her mouth but it was too late, her scream had caught the attention of a whole army of rabid crazed woodchucks in the nearby area. My friend told me that she was quite certain we were going to die because within moments we were surrounded by hundreds of the deranged rodents. I wasn’t scared for a second because fortunately I had taken a course in self defense against various rodents and had spent a week studying the attack behaviors of the woodchuck. When they attacked us they were in for quite a surprise. I killed the first two just by giving them the evil eye. One leapt at my face and I killed it using a double-dragon super awesome hand hack punch. I killed those slimy (yes woodchucks are slimy) little fur balls left and right. But there was just too many of them and soon I was getting tired. Luckily I was wearing my emergency communication wrist device and so I called my cyborg friend Taylor and within a few minutes he had flown to our exact location using his totally awesome rocket boots and picked us up. We were flown to safety and once I had regained enough energy I got in my private stealth Bomber flew back to the location of the woodchuck attack and dropped a good 500 megatons of nuclear armageddon on their asses. Well needless to say there is no longer any state of New Hampshire (the location of the incident, 500 megatons easily blew that whole area to Kingdom Come) but I did what I had to do, and honestly will one of the fifty states really be that missed?
Well currently I am working with the President of the United States to lead an all out woodchuck genocide. I’ll be damned if I’ll let those furry fucking bastards rule my life. No thanks is needed. this is just another day in the amazingly awesome life of Love Daddy Lord.