Grampa 2 comments

Posted by grampa in  (Monday July 24, 2006 at 11:48 am)

My names are many in many lands: Walking Frenzy, Tongue Puncher, the Lysergic Terrorist, KP, Damage Control, the Red Wizard, Ledge Lord.  The one that seems to have stuck is Grampa.  Formerly known as GrampaAcid, I dropped the vestige when I quit doing drugs.

One day soon I’ll tell the story of how I came to have this name, but right now I’m just too tired.

I am the Lord Protector of Madagascar.  It is my island.  The lemurs, the ancestor worshiping, lightning stricken natives and the coelacanth all belong to me.  This is not negotiable.

I am the Generalissimo/Head Librarian of the MRC – the Madagascar Revolutionary Council.  This legendary group was founded in a haze of madness, disgust, sweat and lightning in what can only be described as, truly, a moment of divine intervention.  Our acts were many and inspired.  The one that is considered our finest hour was when we ran a 15″ rubber phallus, The Cock, for president of the student government of Penn State University.  Our Minister of Propaganda, Rubberneck the Space Pimp, made Goebbels look like a child playing at lying.  Wookiee the Gimp and I wage an unrivaled posting frenzy culminating in cease and desist orders from the Office of the Physical Plant.  We didn’t win but we did beat several human candidates in a write in campaign.  How the Cock became the symbol of hope for a generation is a tale of which I can only tell one viewpoint.  There are many that were there who, it is safe to assume, were more lucid than I.  Perhaps their stories will one day appear.  I was not the leader of this group, merely a player.  There were names among us worth more than a thousand mailed knights apiece.  Again, there will be time to tell these tales when I have the opportunity to do them justice.

I was the founder of a group that came to be known as the Pennsylvania Wrecking Crew, an elite unit of Lysergic Terrorists who brought terrible joy across the land.

The MRC has since morphed into the Lunatic Fringe.  Our latest goal is to Impeach God.  Though, admittedly, we’ve been lax in our efforts of late.  The Fringe is getting older, if not wiser.  The addition of wives and babies (the other members), rehab, prison and illness (me) have slowed us.  Fortunately that old cocksucker, God, isn’t going anywhere soon, so we have time.

After spirited discussions with Jesus Yow Christ, the most cracktastic, bombastic savior you will never have, I became the High Priest of our new religion, NeoDarwiNietzschism.  One day you fuckers will build cathedrals in our honor.

There will come a time when the rest of the world is going to wise up and realize the Joe Stalin was a fuck’n visionary.  Granted, this may be after a couple of ice ages and all that remains are a few statue remnants in Eurasia.  I just want to be on record that I was way ahead of the curve on this one.  We could use a little of Uncle Joe’s happy-go-lucky style in our dreary, purge-free world.

Finally, I want to state unequivocally that, while I am no longer as bitter and angry as I once was, on my very best day all that I am is a well behaved sociopath.

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#10. You can trade an old 44 for a new 22.

#9. You can keep one gun at home and have another for when you’re on the road.

#8. If you admire a friend’s gun and tell him so, he will probably let you try it out a few times.

#7. Your primary gun doesn’t mind if you keep another gun for a backup.

#6. Your gun will stay with you even if you run out of ammo.

#5. A gun doesn’t take up a lot of closet space.

#4. Guns function normally every day of the month.

#3. A gun doesn’t ask , “Do these new grips make me look fat?”

#2. A gun doesn’t mind if you go to sleep after you use it.

And the number one reason a gun is favored over a woman….


Comment by DAD OF BOY — Saturday.February.10.2007 @ 4:49 am

“do these grips make me look fat”

that’s PRICELESS!!

Comment by The Jaded NYer — Tuesday.February.5.2008 @ 6:49 am

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