Woozy Pency Wow

Choo-choo!

Chickenfat

Hey!

Blog Boredom

What shall I post here? I'm quickly running out of inspiration.

Pure Beauty in the Form of Human Flesh

Me.

Wowzer

METHOD NOT ALLOWED!?!?

Error 405

HI HOW IS EVERYTHING

हेल्लो. दो यू लिखे चिक्केन? I दो. चिक्केन इस युम्मी. इ लिखे आईटी वैरी मच. एस I दो.

Another Disturbing Animated GIF

I'm Terribly Sorry About the Stench

Track Santa Right NOW!!!

Please will you track santa for me lol XD btw i am rly cool so giv me a internet plz.

Santa Tracker is Here!

Somewhere.....

Puerto Rico Earthquake

The Puerto Rico earthquake! Oh no!

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Email Posting is Garbage

It doesn't work.

I've Fallen, and I Can't Get Up!

 

That's me, by the way.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MORE ADS!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

NOOOO!!! NOT MORE ADS!!!!

NOOOOOOO!!!!!!

I HATE HULU!!! AHHHHHH!!!

I JUST WANT TO WATCH MY STINKIN" LOUSY SHOW!!!

Hulu Stinks

TOO MANY COMMERCIALS! BAH!

Disturbing Animated GIF

Murdoch, the War is Over

Yes. Chooooooooboooooo!!!!!!!!!

December 23-- The Day of Chicken

As we all know, chicken is yummy. So I think December 23 should be celebrated as International Chicken Day. It will be remembered for all generations, and chicken will be even yummier.

 

Hello Mr. Chicken! How's it goin'?

Photo Album of Myself

Sometimes I find it hard to believe how amazingly beautiful I am. Wow. Every time I look at these pictures, I am stunned by my dashing handsomeness.

Hello

84 Cans of Tuna-- The Legacy, The Deception, and The True Story

Recently it was announced that all 84 cans of the Fresh&Easy Tuna in Olive Oil had been consumed. That was a lie, unfortunately. It was discovered that there were more tuna cans in the back of the shelf. All the tuna was finally eaten about two weeks ago. That is the truth of the matter. I rest my case.

A can of Fresh&Easy tuna. Although the tuna pictured here is packaged in water, the tuna involved in 

the conspiracy was packaged in oil. The reason this tuna is left is because the kind in water tastes like garbage.

Chickenfat is Approaching Rapidly

This ancient artifact is one of the few of its kind remaining

Weird People Are Weird

Yes.

Most Awesome Thing relese date announced!

It's Jan. 12, 2011!

Minecraft Beta Turns Out to be Extremely Obnoxious

All my mods broke and my main save file is corrupted, and now I have to wait for all my mods to come out for Beta. [\sadface]

Yay!

Disturbing Word Cloud

I made a word cloud of this entire blog, and quite frankly, it's very depressing.

Weirdo Land Adventures: Chapter 3: The Chickenfat Treasure

One day, in Weirdo Land, I was rummaging through my closet in search of “Mr. Thingy”. While I was looking I noticed a piece of chicken lying on the floor. I munched on it, thinking profound thoughts like: Chicken is really good, isn’t it? I kept looking for Mr. Thingy, and came upon an envelope clearly labeled, “TREASURE MAP”. I was just about to eat it when I suddenly realized that whatever the treasure was, it was probably 

better than the map, or else why would anyone draw the map in the first place? I opened the envelope. Here is a facsimile of the map I found inside:

 

I sat down and pondered. Should I go after the Chickenfat Treasure? Or should I just eat the map? I finally decided to eat it. I started to raise it towards my mouth. Suddenly, and without warning, a Freaken jumped through my window and shouted, “No no no no no no no no no no no no! You must find the treasure! Shmaaaaak!” He jumped back out the window. Maybe he is right, I thought, Maybe I should go after the Chickenfat Treasure. I decided to do it. I looked again at the map. It said I should first go to the Tallinga Poo National Monument. I got in a taxi, and immediately regretted it. The driver was a Neo-Monster.

            A few decades back, some Chickenfat Monsters wanted to live in Weirdo Land, but Weirdo Land law didn’t permit it. The Chickenfat Monsters went to court, and lost seven times, always appealing. Finally, they went all the way to the Weirdo Land Supreme Court, where they threatened to eat all forty-seven of the justices if the Monsters didn’t win. They won. That famous court case known as Chickenfat Monsters vs. Weirdo Land Immigration Council (WLIM), allowed any Chickenfat Monster to travel freely through Weirdo Land, get a job, get a driver’s license, buy a house, etc. They just had to sign (or in most cases, write a big X) a little paper saying that they wouldn’t eat anybody. Most Chickenfat Monsters can’t read, but if they could , they would have ignored it anyway. Now Chickenfat Monsters roamed freely through Weirdo Land, eating people if and when they liked. They were notorious for eating people, smashing televisions with their heads, and most of all, for being atrocious drivers. They called themselves Neo-Monsters.

            “Where to?!” The monster cabby growled. “Uhhhhh……..just let me out,” I said. “NO!!!” The Neo-Monster roared. I tried to get out, but the doors were locked. “WHERE TOOOO!!!!!!!???????” He/she/it screamed. I observantly watched his face slowly turn to a darker tint of green. A yellowish string of sticky saliva slithered from his very red mouth. “Um……okay. Just take me to Tallinga Poo National Monument.” The monster growled (or was it the car?) and we lurched forward with a resounding backfire.

                By the time we got to Tallinga Poo, the taxi was so smashed up it didn’t even look like a taxi anymore. “We’re here,” the Monster said. I staggered out of the giant hole in the side of the car. There was Tallinga Poo, dedicated to Tallinga Fofo, the first Chachachoobie president of Weirdo Land. I looked at my map again. I now needed to go to Fusa Chalinga. But how would I get there? I would have to go around Papapapo Wall, which would put me in Narjoo Territory. Nobody wanted to go there, including me. The Narjoos stabbed peoples’ posteriors with their short spears. Within five minutes your behind would be bleeding all over the place. They call this the tenderizing process. Then they cut it off, and either boil it in a large pot or roast it on a spit. Either way, both your gluteus maximii end up in somebody’s stomach. I thought about the present situation while sitting on an enormously obese person’s head. I finally came upon the conclusion that the Freaken didn’t know what he was talking about, so I proceeded to gurgitate the map. It tasted really lousy.

Weirdo Land Adventures: Chapter 2: The Elephants that Died

It's 2011. I had just disembarked from the chicken into Grand Weirdo Station. I was safe in Weirdo Land, away from the Oobleck. How I loved Grand Weirdo Station. It had atmosphere. There was lollipop smoke everywhere, and somewhere a guy was playing a sad tune on a victrolichord. Once in a while you would hear laughter or the clink of glasses. Then I noticed, through the crowd, a girl with glasses and a three-foot-long nose. Oh no! I thought, It's Margo Channing! Then she started running up to me, her nose flapping behind her in the wind. Frantically, I scratched at the cement with my fingernails. But she ran up to my side before I could dig a proper hole to hide in. Too late, I thought sadly. Then she screamed to me in her high-pitched nasal voice, “Hey John Smith Weirdy, I need you to keep a herd of yellow bellied elephants for a week! And you better not eat any of them!” She darted off like a minnow with a Fusa after it. “Here they come!” she screamed back to me as she ran. Then I saw out of the corner of my eye a tiny little elephant, about two inches long, trundling up to my side. He was blue all over, and gave off a phosphorescent glow. His belly was a sickly yellow. “Meepa,” he said. Suddenly the ground started shaking. I looked up and saw another piece of chicken. “Boy, I love chicken,” I said, and watched as forty-foot-tall blue and yellow elephants stampeded and destroyed the entire Grand Weirdo Station. There were about two hundred elephants. “This is going to be fun,” I said as the last of Grand Weirdo Station crumbled and fell. “Meepa,” said the tiny elephant.

            When I got home, everything between me and Grand Weirdo Station had been destroyed. The elephants had just tramped through any building as if it were nothing. Then suddenly, a large Gukko bird flew down and landed right on one of the elephants' shoulder. Then Harvey walked up and asked me where his machine gun turret was. WARNING: This is the point where the entire story disintegrates into total weirdness. For your own good, STOP READING NOW. Thank you. Goodbye. So then I gave Harvey his machine gun turret, but then he killed an elephant with it, so the other elephants stampeded and trampled him. It was just about then that a rather large piece of Chicken Pot Pie landed on the ground next to me. As usual, seven leprechauns jumped out and started dancing, so I got in Harvey's turret and killed them all. I hate leprechauns. After they were all dead, Melissa Taplinga started chasing me, so I had to run. Just then I realized with horror that I was well into the second paragraph and I still didn't have a major problem. All I had was weirdness. I sat down and tried to think of what kind of trouble I could get myself into, but I was stumped. I couldn't think of any problem. Then I hit upon it. My problem would be that I don't have any problem! “Oh no!” I wailed, “My life is perfect! What shall I do?” All right. Now I have a problem. Good. I consulted my checklist and decided I needed to find a problem to solve my problem. But that's in the third paragraph.

            Okay, here's the third paragraph. I was just about to get down to thinking up a problem when a  Jellybean Monster came up and started singing a song:

            The theater, the theater, what's happened to the theater?
            Especially where dancing is concerned
            Chaps who did taps aren't tapping anymore
            They're doing choreography
            Chicks who did kicks aren't kicking anymore
            They're doing choreography
            Heps who did steps
            That would stop the show in days that used to be
            Through the air they keep flying
            Like a duck that is dying
            Instead of dance it's choreography
            Jakes who did breaks they're not breaking anymore
            They're doing choreography
            Chicks who did kicks aren't kicking anymore
            They're doing choreography
            Queens with routines
            That would stop the show in days that used to be
            One and all they're not chancing
            What we used to call dancing
            They're busy doing choreography
            One and all keep us guessing
            What the heck they're expressing
            Instead of dance it's choreography!

                                                                                                                                                                       

I applauded. It was a good song. But then the Jellybean Monster said “Here, I'll sing you another one:”

            A kiss on the hand may be quite weird and freaky

            But diamonds are a Jellybean Monster's best friend—

           

“No, no, I don't have time for this,” I told him. “You have to go home, because I am trying to think up a plot for my story.” This made him break down in tears. “Oh, I'm sorry Jellybean Monster, but I really have to think up my climax,” I told him. “Nobody loves me,” he said, and ran off bawling. I felt sorry for him, but I had to hurry up and do the climax of the story. This thing was already overflowing into the third page. “Meepa,” said the tiny elephant beside me. I looked up and saw that all the giant elephants were gone. Then I saw Margo Channing running up. Now I had a problem, which solved my problem of not having a problem, but which, of course, created a much larger problem. I grabbed the tiny elephant and ran. “You get back here, John Smith Weirdy!” she shouted behind me (Margo Channing, not the tiny elephant). Then I heard a rumbling. The ground started shaking. The rumbling got louder. It sounded like thunder. “IT'S THE ELEPHANTS!” I yelled. Then suddenly there they were; trampling everything, and they were headed right for Margo Channing. Before I knew what was happening, they were already where she was, and trampling her flat. Then they passed. I stood in silence for a moment, then jumped up in the air and shouted, “YAY!” “Meepa,” said the tiny elephant.

Weirdo Land Adventures: Chapter 1: Oobleck

It's December 19, 2011. I wake up and notice with slight interest that I've grown a beard overnight. “How strange,” I say to myself, as I blow a red bubble out of my mouth. “I don't remember having a beard last night. What's more, It's rainbow colored, and I can control it at will. I wonder why.” I continue blowing bubbles of various colors as I walk down the hall to the bathroom. As I drink some of my mom's lavender-scented shampoo, I also see myself in the bathroom mirror and realize my skin is I'm green. As I walk down the hall, I observe that the bubbles I uncontrollably blow are setting the rug on fire as they pop. I'll never understand why my mom ran out of the house screaming as soon as I entered the kitchen. Oh well. I try to eat some toast, but the bubbles I blow always burn it up before I can get it to my mouth. I finally concede to shoving instant Butterscotch pudding down my throat with a wooden spoon, since it seems like that's the only thing that is immune to the bubbles.  I walk out of the side door of my house and onto the street. As people around me scream and panic, I sprint for the giant pencil eraser. But sadly, it flies away as soon as I get there. Feeling dejected, I head onto the stage. I look out at my adoring fans, and see a huge crowd of disembodied toes, cheering and waving back and forth. Life is good after all.

            After my performance is over, I slowly walk back home. I feel like I could sleep until Mr. Pladoobee comes home. Juggling pinwheels that are five feet in diameter isn't easy, especially when you're standing on a pile of old candles. As I near the house, I see a column of blue smoke rising from where my house should be. When I finally get there, I find a piece of chicken lying on the ground. I munch on it, and notice where my house once was, there's only a charred skeleton. I don't mind, though; I never liked that house very much. The only problem now is to escape from the giant blobs of Oobleck falling from the sky.

            I dodge the blobs right and left, getting nearer and nearer to Chickobo Station. Finally I reach it, without a single drop of Oobleck on me. I cower under the bench at the station, snarling at anyone who comes to close. Then I see the huge chicken, racing down the tracks. It's the last one. If I can just get on this chicken, everything will be all right, and I'll never have to deal with Oobleck again. But there's a gargantuan crowd of people already there. The chicken puffs to a stop beside the station, and I elbow my way through the mob. Suddenly, a huge blob of Oobleck starts standing up on top of the chicken and dancing. Everyone screams. The crowd washes backwards, and I'm pulled along with it. But I have to get to that chicken. I run forward, shooting everywhere with my handguns. I'm almost there, but the chicken starts running out of the station—with the Oobleck on it! I fiercely run towards it, and jump in the air, guns blazing. But the Oobleck still dances. At the last moment, my beard catches the Oobleck by surprise with an uppercut. The dancing Oobleck falls off, dead, and I land on the chicken just in time, as it speeds out of the station, headed for Weirdo Land and home. I blow another bubble out of my mouth.

The Chicken is Always Yummier on the Other Side of the Fence

In this drastically improved new chickenfat, many weirdos have left chicken-town forever to wander. Many of them are coming to Weirdo Land, where they think the will be safer. But they're wrong.

Ploopiedoop!

I'm using a Mac right now. I hate Macs. >: (

84 Cans of Tuna--the Sequel

We finally ate all the tuna.

Giant Chickens Returned to Proper Pens

I was out in Weirdo Land trying to catch giant chickens that were barfing up toxic gas bombs and return them to captivity. I'm currently working with George Lucas on a film about my adventures. So I haven't been posting much.

Maggots in a Candy Bar

Once my grandmother, or maybe it was my great-grandmother, bought a candy bar and unwrapped it and it had a bunch of maggots in it. So she returned it.

New Year

Yay. I know I'm sort of late. Oh well. Whatever.