Posted on 11/06/2004 2:54:57 PM PST by PJ-Comix
I consider the DUmmies to be like my personal ant farm. Every day I look through my computer screen window at my DUmmie Ant Farm and they never disappoint. It is fascinating to stare at my DUmmie Ant Farm because they go though so many interesting variations. Some days the DUmmies are in a state of hilarious despair. Other days they act like drama queens. Since the election they often scream in helpless rage at the lousy deck of cards fate has dealt them. Today’s DUmmie FUnnies is one of the best in the FUN department as DUmmie mopaul describes in hilarious detail the agonies he has suffered since the re-election of the Evil Bush Regime in this DUmmie THREAD. So join me for this entertaining peek at the DUmmie Ant Farm. As usual the droppings of the little critters are in Bolshevik Red while the musings of the keeper of the DUmmie Ant Farm, your humble correspondent, are in the [brackets]:
For 2 whole days, I layed in the corner drooling & making weird sounds…
[Consider yourself lucky, mopaul. Most DUmmies will be drooling and making weird sounds for 2 whole months as a result of the election.]
When I awoke very early Wednesday morning, I remember making coffee and sitting down with a cup at the computer machine....then, everything turned bright white, then completely black. I felt a dull thud, and heard a sound like a pumpkin smashing against a side of beef.
[All typical signs of the coming of the Apocalypse…except that the sound would be more like a pumpkin smashing against a side of hedgehog.]
Every few hours, I would drift back into lucidity, just long enough to realize I was laying in the corner of the living room with spittle running down my cheek and into a large puddle at my chin. and I could hear a weird voice off in the distance. I later realized it was my own voice, but I didn't hear words, only groans and occasional burps.
[These are usually symptoms of a condition that is known in medical circles as “inebriated”…but do continue, mopaul.]
One time when I blurred back into almost consciousness, I saw my dear wife, Mrs. Paul, over at the edge of the room, but she looked like she was 20 miles away, and I remember that the sensation of time passing had vanished, and I seemed to be locked in a ripple between time and space.
[Hmm….I take back my original prognosis of inebriation. This now sounds more like you had a near life experience. Please continue, mopaul. I find this FASCINATING.]
I got the vague blurred impression that I was curled up in the fetal position, and I could see a dust bunny in the corner in great detail, but I knew that dust bunnies didn't talk, as this one did. It kept echoing a phrase or mantra that I couldn't quite make out...'mandate'...'exit polls'....'massive turnout'...'4 more beers, 4 more beers'.....then the silence of the grave.
[I know that dust bunny! Please say hello to Harvey for me, mopaul!]
Then, I began to regret that I hadn't just died, and I felt hot as hell, but shivering like a naked man in antarctica, sweating and trembling violently. I remember dear Mrs. Paul applying a wet towel to my forehead and saying sweet comforting things to me, and I remember she looked like an angel, wings and all. for a while, it looked like I might pull through.
[I remember seeing a video like this once. Only instead of Mrs. Paul, it was Paris Hilton applying a wet towel and saying sweet comforting things.]
But then, the fever dreams began, and I descended into hell, headfirst. I saw all the souls of all the disenfranchised voters in a lake of burning sulpher and I heard their terrible lamentations, and I remember wishing that I'd never been born with ears, or eyes to see their awful suffering.
[Dante’s Inferno. Been there. Done that.]
Deeper, and deeper I fell into the stygian abyss, and I saw off in the distance what looked like a fiery throne, and it came into view and I could not close my offended eyes or rip them out and I saw the beast of stolen elections in all his bloody glory and I grew sore afraid.
[Ah! The River Styx. I made that trip when I took my last Jungle Queen cruise in Fort Lauderdale deep in the heart of a lamentable Red State.]
'O Democratic God of justice, why hast thou forsaken me?' I wailed.
'Why must I look upon this horror of the ages with my mortal eyes?'
[Methinks you are paraphrasing “Jeebus” as mentioned in the previous edition of the Dummie FUnnies. Careful, mopaul, about mixing religion and politics or you may have to forsake your DUmmie membership.]
But I heard no reply to my plea, and no relief for my suffering soul, and I had no cool drink of salvation to quench my damned tongue, and no succor from my candidate.
[Try Ex-Lax for that relief you so desperately seek, mopaul.]
After this I felt only blackness, cold and empty, where no shadows ever lived because no light had ever shone there. My eyes were open, as I later discovered, but I layed there like a dead man for the last hours of thursday night, stinking, burping, and generally bringing shame to my entire family.
[Full disclosure, please! You were also farting in addition to burping and stinking.]
Slowly, I began to recover from my affliction, my eyes cleared and my head too, but it still felt like spiders had built webs in there. I found the strength to make a pot of joe, and lurched back over to the computer machine. I stared at it for about two hours, motionless, finally grabbing the mouse and braced myself and faced the music. I started to comfort myself, and forget the awful ordeal I'd just been through and the portentous visions I'd had.
[Again we need full disclosure from you, mopaul. Not only did you grab the mouse but you also spanked the mouse. (And Mrs. Paul tells me the name of your mouse is Minnie.)]
And now, I'm gradually regaining my strength and composure, I've showered, put on clean clothes and burned the old ones, and apologized to my wife and my neighbors in the apt. above me.
[Just because you set your neighbor’s apartment afire due to burning your clothes is no reason to apologize to them.]
That's my story, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who's been down this same road of despair and redemption, and in that, I find solace and strength. Two days lost forever. Two whole days of my life taken, never to be redeemed. Two days of hell, to steel me on my quest for a satisfying election night. Someday, my prince, or princess will come
[And until then you shall remain a frog… Thus mopaul has set forth his sad DUmmie story. Somehow I think I should team up with this character and form a Vegas comedy act. This concludes the DUmmie Ant Farm viewing hours for today.]
Sleep well. I will keep y'all in my prayers.
The sewer? Of course I am in DU very deep under the names of, oops, I almost gave myself away. And yes, some of DU's dumbest moments over the last few years have come courtesy of moi. In my vainer moments, I like to think that I have chased away a few thousand DU subscribers by simply being a typical DU'er and openly expressing the deepest darkest insanities of what passes for the radical DU mind.
In short, by simply being an honest DU'er and running my mouth, I accomplish good. What is so unbeleivable is that the dumber the post, the more insane the claim, the more the DU gallery, even the smarter ones, applaud. It is like the Bible-thumping right who stomp and cheer for some of that old time religion, even when you get to Jonah swallowing the whale and the flood story. The lefty DU'ers froth at the mouth for some of that good old time socialism/communism even when you get to wanting to put conservatives into re-education camps. Suprising how violent the doves can be in their closets.
However this particular online nervous breakdown is not one of mine. I have no sexual problems of the kind alluded to in the final sentence. I took one of them Zen/tantric sex class things way back in the 70's and learned all about pleasing one's lover. parsy the paramour.
Why, thank you! I have been sporking ever since 6th grade, when my friends and I would run up to Taco Bell in the food court and just grab ten, fifteen sporks at a time. Great fun. :D
And, sorry about the link... I screwed up. This one should work!
http://www.livejournal.com/~bush_sucks
Entertainment for hours... that is, until the stupidity gets to you so much that you want to start murdering people.
mopaul's hangover was vividly re-inacted in the movie: "Team America, World Police". You remember the scene, where the actor is in the back of the bar.
BTW: I saw the movie for the first time last night and I laughed until it hurt. I will be getting the DVD.
You know, I though LSD had gone out of fashion. It appears our dear mopaul has a private stash?
Poor little ant.
i think this poor guy just had a revelation. too bad he did not have an epiphany that would open his eyse to the truth of conservatism.
like you, i'm also for opposing points of view. problem is, the du folks don't have a point of view, just etheral emotions emitting into the either.
poor guy should have had michael palin put a drool bucket just below his lip.
Ping!
Oh my word!!! I almost spit my beer all over my monitor!!
Ah, then my job is done! ;-)
ping
DUmmie blast-from-the-past PING.
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