the old hunting cabin

have you ever thought about what athletics do for children? anyone that has been involved in youth athletics (at any level) could rattle off a handful of responses. camaraderie. how to win. how to lose. how to deal with a personal failure. how to work as a team. hell, i could go on naming benefits for days. if you have wondered why people like to hunt, you can apply the same reasons to the sport of hunting.
l...l...l...let me preach on it.....
the rrw learned alot of life's lessons through all different types of sports. if a young man is never around others, how can they learn to be part of team? how can they learn important things like wisdom, that can not be taught? well there is trial and error, but wouldn't you rather they learn from some else's previous mistakes? hunting with a club is alot like that. missing a deer, and unstead of beating themselves up over it, a few good hearted jokes and some one else reminding them that just about everyone does the exact same thing, helps a boy reconcile the event and quickly get over it. that is just like life. you win some-you lose some, just like every one, but why dwell on a failure? also, this will only make their first successful harvest that much sweeter. i really enjoy seeing sons hunt with their fathers. the hunters that i know would rather let their son take a shot at a deer, than for themselves to personally kill a trophy.
even skinning the deer is a lesson to be learned. no one instinctly knows how to skin a buck, it's something that needs to be taught. have you ever seen a boy's pride when he talks about his first deer? the pride is the fact that this boy has taken the time, to scout a location, put in hours in a tree stand and to actually be a good marksman when the opportunity finally presented itself. no hunter i know, rides the road just looking to shoot a buck illegally. much less teaching their son to do the same. i personally resent anyone's accusation of my friends being roadhunters. this is not the case. if they had kids they would know, you teach your kids to play by the rules. winning by cheating, is not winning at all.
contrary to one person's opinion, i do not hunt. but i love to just get around them and be part of a team, to laugh at the stories or to be the one, at which they all are laughing. don't get me wrong, it is great to donate to hunter's for the hungry, or just to provide some portion of venison to an elderly person. (every single deer harvested is put to good use) but what i really enjoy, is actually feeling like i contributed to something bigger than myself. a group. a community. a family.
peace out!

that's just me

the rrw gets lots of email, comments and genuine input from what can only be described as a cult following. i really don't deserve any of the adoration. i'm just one man trying to preach it like it is. hell, just ask one of my seven ex-wives. one hour a week is all i'm good for my sisters... if you're picking up what i'm putting down.
let me preach on it....
n...n...n...now if you're one of the previously mentioned seven, don't pick up the phone and ask your lawyer to increase the alimony. as doyle would say from slingblade, "this ain't no paying gig!" hhhaaa! in fact, i'll probably have to eventually sell my 'bloggings' to a publisher just to be able to buy some new rims for the cadillac. i know what you're thinking...."what's wrong with your fly rims?" or maybe "the rrw might have a book published?" well let me just say that you shouldn't jump to conclusions my brothers. (i got some rims on lay away) today's publishing world is not what you think.....
say what??? why not, you might ask?? well my brothers, you do need a license to hunt. you need a permit to drive, then you need to have insurance before you can actually drive. you need a visa to travel to most countries, and a passport to leave yours, but first a birth certificate to get that passport. you need a license to fish. you need to register to vote. you need a permit to build a house. but apparently, any old asshole can get a book published.
that is indeed the case! well, that is indeed the case, if you can afford the $2,500, it costs to pay the publisher to send you a letter of congratulations and then print your book as it is ordered online. (pretty safe bet for the publisher) the rrw has got some family members, and let's not forget the cult following, but i wonder how my 95 cent profit margin will actually add up to a profit? do you realize that i could take my three year old dog's name, add it to a poem, pay $2,500 and she too would actually be published.
if you're stupid enough to pay someone to do this, hoping that it will make you feel like you actually contributed something, chances are, the only thing you contributed to, was your own stupidity. that, and of course, someone else's kid's college education. welcome to the 21st century....
peace out!

911 on speed dial?

our local 911 dispatch is certainly a good, multi-million dollar a year, emergency investment. here are a few statsitics, of which you may not be aware:
let me preach on it.
the average 911 call costs the county $688. you have to figure the annual cost of the infrastructure. add in costs such as pager updates ($500) for all the county's full time employees and of course the volunteers. factor in the 'wear and tear' on each vehicle as it responds to the individual emergency. fuel. salaries......i suppose a college student could do his dissertation on the figure.
anywho, if you were to read a blog, and that blogger posted 56 times in one calendar year. and the same blogger talked about calling the police 19 times during that same period of time, (divide 19 by 56) and we can assume that the blogger calls the police 34% of her time. (multiply 34% by 356 days) and we know that the blogger has called the police approximately 121 times that particular year. assuming that 67 percent of all statistics are made up, then $83,248 (121 times $688) is how much it has costs the tax payers of franklin county, to have a game warden issue JP a warning for having a few birds over the 12 bird limit. that's it. all those calls and just one citation. wtf?? i...i...i...i'm so mad i'd like to stomp a mud hole in somebody's ass and then walk it dry. she actually said...."well, i thought i should have the police come down and document it....i thought i'd have the police come and give me a (two mile) escort home, in the dark." sister, if you ain't got a reason to call the police, then don't. do me a favor cybil, double the dosage and try having two of your seven personalities make friends with each other, and quit abusing the system just because you're bored.
hey here's another thought, mind your own business: when all you got is a hammer, then everything starts looking like a nail. in other words, if your paranoid ass wasn't always out looking for 'the terrorists,' then maybe you wouldn't have to pick up the phone and hit number 1 on the speed dial, everytime you feel constipated. did you ever stop to think that maybe, someone on the other side of the county actually has an emergency, and needs the policeman to which you're crying wolf???
i read that 'when we finally have the terrorist ring in custody, we can all sleep at night.' truth is my sister.... you're the only one having trouble sleeping at night.

peace out!

a shout out!

everyone needs to be appreciated. whether they are 2 or 102. let me just say that the rrw has got to send a personal thank you out to one of my brothers in god, mr kevin hunt.

let me preach on it.....

n...n...n...now just when you think people aren't paying attention, believe me brother, nothing in this small town goes unnoticed. i saw that good looking white boy, thanking him (k hunt) on our local morning t.v. show. it turns out that mr. hunt spent several weeks remodeling an old house to help raise money for a youth center at the local church. you see khunt works, with his brothers, for this construction company. ( i forget their company's name) But anywho, he took his valuable nights and weekends, and materials to actually rebuild this old haunted house, which in turn, raised $10,000 for our church's youth center. big deal, you say?? turns out that khunt and his entire family (plus son's girlfriend) also worked every night at the haunted house. damn.... that sound like a pretty decent fellow. did i mention his wife???? well l...l...l...let me just say, mrs. candice hunt couldn't be more loved by our community too. besides being music director for our vacation bible school , she also directs our church's easter and christmas' cantatas if you know either one, feel free to leave a comment for them here.
anywho, i remember it was the same hunt family helping out, when the community wanted the GUP ballpark brought back to life. uncountable hours and weekends for khunt. pretty impressive for someone that is not retired...especially when there are certain retirees (who should have all the time in the world) that sit around their house, typing on their blog, wondering at whom their pervert husband is peeping and waiting for a car to drive past their house so they can follow them and try to get a nose as far up the crack of an ass, as possible. "b...b...b...but i need to patrol my piece of land" (we've established... not a farm). wtf??? who are you? police academy five-citizens on patrol. if you feel so paranoid about your 600 feet of road frontage, then put your piece of shit truck in park, get out and pitch a tent. although i'd recommend you be more concerned about your 600 feet of ass frontage, and put your lips in park. but i digress, anywho enough about khunt, c. hunt and just plain ole' cunt.
peace out!

p.s. it does seem i have put your mind in park for you. which is another lesson for the younger sexual chocolates. when you stand up to a bully they usually fold like oragami.

and the judges score....9.5

the rrw tries not pass judgment on other people. live and let live, i think that's what grandma would say. but sometimes i would like to understand the reason(s) behind certain hobbies.


let me preach on it.....
in the words of jerry seinfeld " what's the deal with dumpster diving?" as far as i know, it has yet to become an olympic sport. so why the hell would someone drag their ass up into a greenbox dumpster? first of all imagine, jumping up and grabbing the edges with both hands, as your 'boy' friend stands on all fours below, waiting for your shoes to smear whatever dog shit, you picked up while waiting on the 'coast to become clear,' all over the back of his shirt. i know the preamble to the constitution states that "all men are created equal," but dammmnnn. i think some people's parents dove into the shallow end of the gene pool: head first. b...b...b...but i digress. do they really think that someone actually threw something away, that is worth inhaling that vile smell? now continue imagining the near perfect dive over the edge of the greenbox into that bag of diapers, bag of old socks, bag of vomit and bag of used woman's feminine products. now imagine that those same trash bags ripped open when they were originally tossed in. g...g...g..give me a second to go vomit myself....
allrighty where was i? i know, where there's a fool there's a way, but do you really need another rusty old lawn mower blade, to sit out there beside your ceramic toilet? my recommendation would be: to just keep pedaling your bicycle past that dumpster and try to maintain some similance of your, quickly departing, dignity. now, to all you faithful readers i can offer some placation. remember the tree of life is self pruning. in other words, this gene pool has all but dried up, never to return.
peace out!

your neighbor is so fat.....

in a recent comment, one faithful reader asked the rrw if he knew any your neighbor so fat jokes. although i am unfamiliar with these particular quibs, i am not one to just throw in the towel without at least taking a shot at it....
i also want to dedicate this to all the wannabe writers/peevish grey haired boys out there.

n...n...n...now let me preach on it.
how about your neighbor so fat, she jumped in the air and got stuck.
.....her cereal bowl has got it's own lifeguard.
she so fat, when she got off the merry-go-round they had to put the horse down
....i swerved to miss her on my car and ran out of gas before i got back.
your neighbor so fat, she feel in love. and broke it.
....she made weight watchers go blind.
.....she went swimming in the ocean and a pod of whales started swimming around her, singing "we are family"
.....the docotr diagnosed her with a flesh eating virus, and gave her 10 years to live.
your neighbor so fat, she got a back up beeper whenever she sits down.
.....she licks other peoples fingers at kentucky fried chicken
your neighbor is so fat, the horse on her jordache jeans is real.
.....she puts her belt on with a boomerang.
.....when she goes to a restaraunt, she looks at the menu and says "o.k."
.....she's got to iron her pants in the drive way.
your neighbor is so fat, she got other smaller fat people orbiting around her.
......she's on both sides of the family
......when she was born, she gave the hopital stretch marks.
your neighbor is so fat she can't jump to conclusions.
she so fat she ate the milky way.
.....she got more chins than a chinese phonebook.
.....she got to be wieghed on the richter scale.
....she got stopped at theh airport for having 150 pounds of crack.
she so fat she uses mexico for a tanning bed.
your neighbor is so fat, when she takes a shower her feet don't get wet.
.....she even put's mayonaise on asprin.
.....cows try to get milk from her.
.....her blood type is ragu.
.....she so fat, she could sell shade.
your neighbor is so fat she eats wheat thicks.
....she doesn't get a menu at resturaunts. she gets an estimate.
....she had to get babtized at sea world.
.....NASA has got a satellite orbiting around her.
....the last time she sat on a beach, greenpeace tried to throw her back in.
and finally---your neighbor so fat they had to install speed bumps at the buffet.

peace out!

sanford and hun

did you ever stop to wonder what redd foxx's neighbors thought about his junkyard?? cue the guitar solo and you can picture the old ford pulling up in the drive. just add a little blues sax and we've got the intro to today's post....


n...n...n...now let me preach on it.

it always seemed to me that lamont kept his crazy ole man in check. can you imagine the stupidity if they both were numbnuts??? well now, it appears that two freds have moved into the neighborhood. the rrw is all about good landscaping, but when your yard is mistaken for a junk business, it's time for the experts (or at least a three year old with five dollars) to step in. wtf? scattered among a horsepen, dog kennel and masterbation asphyxiation chamber; there is actually a wife hauler, a ceramic toilet, an unplugged refridgerator, bed posts, wood piles and a 20 foot cb radio antenna. (lawn mowers are great inventions, but they do need to be assembled to achieve their true effectiveness.) at first glance, you would mistake this junk for some "redneck" lawn art. but my brother, that would be and unfair association for my redneck brethern. what we have here, is a hollywood set junkyard. there ain't no self respecting southerner that could accrue this junk. there i said it. this is no southerner, much less the norman rockwell farmer, she attempts to portray of herself. in fact, this is no farmer at all. say what? she said...she said...she said she had farms. yeah and michael jackson went to work for k-mart so that he could get all boys pants, half off. please don't tell me his neverland ranch wasn't actually a working dude ranch.
one piece of land is 60 acres. just some trees and cleared fields. (some new land owners will clear the land of trees to help pay for the newly acquired property.) the other one (pole cat) is just 130 acres of more or less fields. no horses, no cows, no crops and no buildings. (clutching my chest) this is the big one elizabeth! you mean www.peevish.lardass.bitch is a hoax? not entirely, her husband's name is john.

the rrw is all about free enterprise, but if you're trying to raise money to pay for a new tombstone, at least paint a sign to let everyone know that you're open for business. and please, leave the landscaping to the experts or at least a three year old that knows better. you big dummy.
peace out.

undercover brother...by edgar allan bro

twas the night before hunting season, and on the posted land.
i'm looking at rusty chairs from my hidden stand.
old perv is walking around like the sheriff of dodge,
and i'm still undetected in my treebark camoflauge.
his paranoia is highlighted, by the moonlight,
but this time the crazy bastard was actually right.
the warrant was placed in my front door with care.
and i was looking at chunks through my crosshairs.
then she rides in on a bike, but where is the seat?
it's obviously hidden by her left and right cheek.
he runs to meet her like a pole cat squirrel.
but why was he dressed, like a catholic school girl??
and then i desired, as they embraced.
for a mental magnet, for a memory erase.
his skirt was weird and so was his wig,
his shreik was loud, he squealed like a pig.
i just wanted to escape, head for my church.
but instead i was witnessing deliverance, fom my hidden perch.
and as i shut my eyes and found my happy place
i could never forget that sourpuss face.
my plan went askew, my secret hunting amiss
my underwear was yellow, obviously from piss.
but as quick as they came, they were soon gone
i couldn't move, after what i'd been shown.
it took three days, before i could finally leave.
i saw a set of stones where there should've been a beave(r)

well now i don't hunt because of that secret kiss,
momma lied when she said, there'd be days like this.
all the hunters they stay away from that land
and i've never returned, for my reclining tree stand.
to make me feel better, the hunters gave me a purple heart.
but it's hard to enjoy when my peter can't get hard.
you may think this funny, or even absurd.
but imagine not being able, to shit a hard turd.
please pay attention, listen to the reverrraaand.
there is a reason,....... people post their land.

i am the one...

the rrw has got a guilty conscience. i don't know if i can make it through the holidays without getting something off my chest. n...n...n...now i know i'm going to make some of you mad. and you can go out there and say that the rrw has been talking about you. but the truth shall set me free.

let me preach on it....

yes my brothers from another mother, i did it. i am the one. the one that put the pubic hair in your toothpaste. i called vdot. drank all your milk and put the empty carton back in the fridge. it was me. i put that dry rotted rubber in your night stand. de-magnetized the strip on the back of your credit card. piled up the dust. i admit to it. flattened your spare. wrote your editor. stopped your chain letter . don't stop me now i'm on a roll. i left most of the racing stripes. pissed down your chimney. i'm starting to feel so much better my sisters. please just read on. i stold your one sock out of the dryer. i admit i'd kill for a nobel peace prize. i yelled at your dog. stuffed your mailbox. can you forgive me?? rolled it out the front gates, down the road and over the cliffs. it was me. it was me. it was all me. i invented sex. am an original member of abba. i shot j.r. i sent you that t-shirt that read ' i beat anorexia.' gave you a penny for your thoughts, and got change. contacted the village about their missing idiot and gave them your number. all me.me.me. have mercy.
peace out.

say it ain't so...

this just in from the ap news wire..... in an apparent landslide, it looks like the novelty neighbors are voting against having the muchcrapkos attend the upcoming revival.
let me preach on it.....
n...n...n...now the rrw is actually starting to feel bad for these people. damn my brothers. i had a bicycle with no seat one time, that wasn't up my ass as much as these two individuals. it doesn't appear that anyone likes them. l...l...l...let me rephrase. it appears that everyone hates them, with a passion.
anywho, to get to the point, i'm afraid the local hunters are withdrawing the offer to buy a new tombstone. the other party did not uphold their end of the agreement. the local hunters have decided to take the money and help pay some legal fees, some of rrws travel expenses to the revival and one local milkman's chiropractor bill. damn that boy messed his back up righteously. lift with your legs my brother. lift with your legs.
just a quick update. peace out!

invitation to the revival

the rrw is feeling a whole lot of love around the upcoming revival. in a recent comment left for the rrw (click here) my brotherman ike proffered, to invite a photographer for my public appearance.
let me preach on it.........
n...n...n...now i would like to leave this decision up to the sexual chocolates and my internet brethern. just leave a comment on this current blog and we will tabulate the results just before my appearance. there are a few things that i must point out about the suggested photographer. so please read on before you vote.....
numero uno. the boy you suggested isn't even a professional photographer. say what?? infact the only reason this anathema snaps photos at all, is so that she can blend them together with half-truths to attempt to give them validity. unfortunately there are a few dumbasses out there that takes everything they read as truth. which brings me to my next point
number two.(as in no. 2 ) she's a piece of shit. strike that. she's the whole turd.
number three. she doesn't really do things very well. her writing....well let's just say she blows chunks. (it's worse than you think, chunks is actually her horse's name...stop and think about that one a second!) her ability to tell the truth. you can actually tell when she's lying! here lips are moving. ....her ability to identify an individual. (who is kd??)... her ability to keep up with her own tombstone. yep, it's gone. as i said, not a very good history of executing tasks.
number four. this is the one on which, i really want ya'll to focus. in a recent blog (captain obvious) the rrw documented ike godsey's near death experience: in my opinion, a horny old hoochie momma, attempted the kidnapping of mr. godsey. and poor ike, unwilling to sacrifice his anal virginity, folded up like a lawn chair. now, after years of therapy. ike has finally managed to leave the confines of his basement. do we really want to see ike blabbering like a school girl again??? i know alot of you were there to help with the electro-shock therapy, that eventually brought him to the realization that he was not a spice girl. so, i ask you all to take that into consideration when you vote.....
peace out!

public appearance

the rrw is in a great mood today brothers and sisters. you know i love the lord. can i get an ameeenn.
let me preach on it....
you know this brother is ordained and bonded to perform weddings by the fc courthouse and virginia. infact, if the rrw performed your nuptuals feel free to leave a comment for all to read. (this blogger does not limit or delete any comments) anywho, i have been invited to be the speaker at a local revival at the old novelty depot, one upcoming saturday. (the exact date is tbd...i'll keep you posted)
however, there are certain requirements the rrw anticipates the hosts having available. when this brother speaks, i usually draw a large crowd. i am going to need 100-200 chairs for the local flock. let's not forget my entourage, the sexual chocolates. they are explicit in the requirement of a wooden pew to sit in.
let's just make this a fellowship while we're at it. let's do a traditional, pilgrim thanksgiving dinner. wouldn't it be great to see a deer hanging up right beside a fire pit, so we can all be fed at the end of the sermon???? let's make it two....
the hosts wants to remind all that there is a strange, skinny old man that rides his bike around and peeps on unsuspecting neighbors, so you may want to wear camoflauge to make it harder for this geriatric voyeur to see you.
peace out!

captain obvious

i'm so mad i don't know whether to shit or go blind.... guess i'll just close one eye and poot!

let me preach on it ......
the rrw got a very interesting email today. yeah see brothers, i found out that one of my favorite blogs, peevishpen.bull.shit has been propagating lies, and not just stupid fiction as i had originally thought. first and foremost bm had originally claimed that a group of local hunters had been harassing her with rusty chairs. (you know a large sister will break out in fierce sweat, thinking about having to sit in a puny rust chair. memories of numerous chair collapses cause a panic and throw shadow over her younger days when she was a much younger looking boy) anywho, i digress. turns out the entire rusty chair idea isn't a novel one around novelty. also, according to ike godsey (ikegodsey.blogspot.com) bm isn't the only one sweating. n...n...n...now check this out.
in what can only be described as fit of lust, a certain unamed individual, blocked the road and proceeded to ask ike "what do you want from me...(big boy)" mr godsey was left dumb founded and could only manage an inaudible prayer to the lord to "make me a bird so i can fly far, far away, make me a bird so i can fly far, far away"
dammnnn.... you know the rrw is all about sharing love ..ha! but i can't say i really blame my brotheerrrr. and this is a lesson for all the younger sexual chocolates. when you run across this, run my brothers, run. there is one simple rule to remember here:
' don't go and mess, with what was in that dress'
let me preach on it.....you may ask, how could that old lady hurt me? let me just go ahead and state what is painfully obvious to the rrw. when a sister reaches that age, she's got to be thinking that this is probably going to be her last time. don't let the sourpuss face fool you, she's going to lay a hurting on you. no pun intended. your very life will be in jeopardy. i think it's already been established around your neck of the woods, that even after your tragic death, there is no guarentee that some a-hole won't steal your tombstone. n...n...n...now let me reiterate the obvious. ike, my brother, you are a very wise man. i'm glad you suvived the torture. and thanks for spreading the light of truth on this deep, deep, dark, dark, deep dark lie. peace out!

this story goes with that

The rrw was recently perusing the world wide web, where he ran across a ladie’s website, in which she was struggling to identify a current picture.
n…n…n…now let me preach on it.

Sister, what you obviously have here, and keep in mind I am not a certified geologist, is approxminately 531 lbs of granite rock dust! Readers, check it out for yourself (peevishpen.crappy.author) Damn! That’s strange! Also from the look of the moisture content, it appears that the original granite slab was recently fished out of SML, ground to dust, piled 42cm high, and then pissed on by someone with a high calcium/milk content in their urine.

May I suggest you get a concealed weapons permit sister. Although, it sounds like the milk man might have a concealed foot for the crack of your ass. The rrw recommends to stay away from this individual, before he fills your ass tank up with some premium unleaded boot.

Peace out!!!

geriatric sex

the rrw gets lots of questions from his faithful flock, not to mention the sexual chocolates. one parishioner recently inquired about sex after 60.

n..n...n...now let me preach on it.
oh yes, just cause there's snow on the roof, don't mean there ain't a fire in the furnace. put on some barry white, dim the lights and take the tugboat to tuna town.....and brothers let me just say that this is important for every relationship, no matter what the age. why-unless your nasty ole, dried up hoochie momma, looks like a grey haired, overwieght boy, a loving couple should be intimate once or twice a month. that is unless, you've got some problems with the ole' joystick, if you're picking up what i'm putting down. but don't sweat that either. just batman a couple viagra and throw a paper bag over your geriatric robin look-alike, and let your "boy wonder' go a few rounds with the bald headed champ.
failure to do this, well only lead to a miserable, childless life where the only reason you drag your miserable arse out of bed, is to see if your one friend in pennsylvania, has commented on yesterdays blog. why the only exercise you get, will be when your chubby little sausages snap photos of your neighbors and their property. you will desperately seek to actually "get a life". the paranoia will set in, as your husband sneeks around the neighborhood peeping at old ladies and young girls. but sister this is all your fault. you should have headed this off at the pass. spend some time on your own business and stay out of everyone elses......
but of course, now that you know what to look for, this will never happen to you.....
peace out!

you got served

if you tuned in to check out the rrw's dance step, and subsequent ability to bring it to you, you're going to be a little disappointed.
n...n...n...n...now let me preach on it

i now, metaphorically, know what a hemorrhoid feels like. according to the peevishpen.fatass.bitch, an individual may execute a stay away order on another individual, simply for expressing their opinion on a radio talk show. wtf???
yes, bm says that she took out a stay away order on kevin david (a handsome mensa member, that speaks five languages, and heck of a nice guy) a man she has never met. according to the webcast, kd (representing a local hunting group) and bm agreed that: if bm would not harass the local hunters, that they would in turn, at the end of hunting season, buy bm a tombstone. and not just any tombstone. the exact tombstone that recently went missing (and most speculate, has been tossed into smith mountain lake) bm ignored the agreement and commenced the instigation/harassment immediately. then proceeded in obtaining a stay away order against kd, a man she can not even identify. according to kd, he assumed the interview was a joke, but that the agreement was serious. " i don't even know what muchcrapko looks like" , kd thought and then i typed. " i had to go to her blog to see her picture just to know, from whom i'm supposed to keep away." kd thought. " i hope that her girlfriend will let you put a link to muchcrapkos photo, so that you may see for yourself how scary she looks. trust me, you don't have to serve me a stay away order, to keep me away. i am afraid, i am very afraid."

daammmnnn .... kd is hitting below the belt. besides, the rrw was going to ask bm to play short stop for the co-ed softball team.
peace out!

Paranoia: a psychosis characterized by systematized delusions of persecution

i love a good joke. hell, everyone enjoys a good hearted teasing. however, if the individual involved suffers excessive or irrational suspiciousness and distrustfulness of others, that's were i draw the line.
n...n...n...now let me preach on it.

i recently discovered that my neighbor, becky muskho (a struggling author, who wants to walk her property with her dog...but then goes on to contradict herself by saying that she's handicapped, and has physical ailments too) had her tombstone stolen. i know what you're thinking.... why the hell, would someone buy their own tombstone? my only answer to you, would be to shamelessly pilfer the kinks lyrics, and say:
"paranoia will destroy ya."
and it looks like she's going down hill fast. but i digress, consensus amoung most neighbors, is that the muskhos (she and her husband john) have perpetrated the crime themselves. i would like to reiterate, this is not funny. and that nothing could be further from the truth. infact, they have offered a $500 reward "for information leading to the arrest of whoever was involved".... once again i know what you're thinking.... why the hell would a supposed author, not offer the reward for the information leading to the arrest of whomever was involved. it's a mystery to me too.
anywho gotta go. i'm meeting bm, jm and oj simpson so we can find the persons invloved in stealing the tombstone and then oj's wife's killer......
peace out!

I am now more stupid than ever

Wow! Now that the RRW is bloging we can officially usher in the 21st century. Let me give a quick shout out, to all the sexual chocolates and go ahead and quit capitalizing. it is driving me crazy.

thanks for reading this blog, i know there are others far more interesting. for example, i've been reading thepeevishpen.blogspot.com. it's really difficult for me to read that miasmic crapfest, because there are lasting effects. yes this is apparently the most stupid person alive, writing the most stupid fiction imaginable. infact, everyone reading that blog will be even more stupid having read it. so once again welcome to the 21st century.

n..n..n..now, let me preach on it.