Archive | February, 2012

Fucking Orange Juice

29 Feb

You know what rocks? Fucking orange juice. Like pure fruity deliciousness in a cup. Or sometimes a carton. You hear that? A FUCKING CARTON. Want some orange juice on the go? WE GOT THAT. Best kind is, indisputably, Tropicana. Don’t care what they put in it. Could be agent orange. (Get it? Agent orange? Orange juice? God, I’m funny.) Screw you, apple juice. Bite me, pineapple juice. Go to hell, grape juice. Seriously? GRAPE JUICE? That’s what you got? Really. The only one that can hold its own is mango. Possibly peach. But that is a stretch. That is the lesson I have learned today.

This is not me making things up. I actually went through this in my brain today. Good god, my mind is A Very Strange Place.

Tempest Warriors

29 Feb

“I don’t want to be here, why am I here?” grumbled Tyler.

“Because” growled Erik back. “I don’t trust you in the apartment by yourself.”

“Grumble grumble.”

“Stop grumbling.”

“Mumble mumble.”


A murmur went through the line as they shuffled forward. The posters for the reason they were all here screamed at them as they walked in. In specific, they screamed “TEMPEST WARRIORS IS THE BEST VIDEO GAME EVER BUY IT.” Based off a manga of the same name, the premier of the game brought lines across the countries. Many of which were filled with disgruntled people standing in line with their fan boy friends.

Within 10 seconds of standing in line, Tyler had already updated all of his social networks (All now said “I am bored”), make a Wikipedia page of the event, and even started a petition to ban any sequels of the game.

“When is this line over?” he whined.

Erik calmly reached over and cuffed him in the head. Generally speaking, Tyler would have proceeded to disembowel Erik with a spork, but all 3 laws of robotics were pre-recorded in his brain. As was the entire Pink Panther series. No one is sure about why.

The line ended soon enough (Though far too late for Tyler) and they soon were shopping. In an instant, Erik reached for Tempest Warrior- at the same time someone else does.

Erik glared at the newcomer, and took an instant geek scan of her apparel. Ramona Flowers goggles, District 12 t shirt, Firefly button, jeans with Cthullu patch, Tardis backpack. Interestingly enough, despite a constant high speed internet connection, Tyler took twice the time to scan her apparel.

“Give me the game. Now.” said the girl flatly.

Erik smiled. Then he swung his fist in to her shoulder and yanked the game away.

“TYLER! HOLD HER DOWN!” screamed Erik as he sprinted toward the counter.

“What?” screeched Tyler. Unsure of what to do, he proceeded to sit on the girl, despite her protests.

In a flash, Erik purchased the game and dragged Tyler out the door. They almost made it to their car before they heard “Stop.” from behind. They looked around.

The girl was standing in the doorway, holding a katana in hand. Erik sighed, and produced his own katana from his satchel.

“Sure you won’t just let me have the game?” he asked hopefully.

She shook her head once, and began building up speed toward him. Out of the corner of his mouth, Erik said “Get home, I’ll see you later.” before raising his sword for the duel .

Subconscious Me: Let’s Get Down To Business

27 Feb

To defeat the Huns…

Okay, honestly, I had a whole idea but I can’t think of anything now other then that song.


Enter The Internet

26 Feb

“Dicks, dicks, dicks, dicks, dicks.” said Tyler happily as he ate a cupcake.

“Good god, have you figured this out yet?” moaned Ben. “10 hours is my limit on dicks.”

“Alright, I think I figured this out.” muttered Erik as he sat perched by his laptop. “All Tyler’s vocabulary was stored in the censorship chip. You know, so he can’t say any bad things.”

“Makes sense.” said Ben. “So how do we fix it?”

“Dicks?” asked Tyler as he cocked his head to the side.

“No. Not dicks, Tyler. The internet.” Erik explained. “All we have to do is hook him up to the modem. Hopefully it will work out.” He was already hooking a cord to Tyler’s ear.

Ben got up and hid behind the recliner. “Have you realized the problem in this plan?”

Erik put the other cord in his laptop. “No, what?”

“This plan involves hooking our robot up to the internet.”

“Oh. Good point. I wish you raised it earlier, cause the upload has started.”

“Diiiiicks.” said Tyler as he powered down.

“Alright. We have Encyclopaedia uploading… NOW!”

Tyler’s head snapped up. “I UNDERSTAND ALL.” he screamed in a baritone voice.


“Is he gonna learn tone deviation at some point?” Ben asked timidly.

“Yeah in a second.” Erik paused. “Actually, you might want some ear plugs.”

Tyler stood up. “Wow. Being able to see and understand everything is somehow instantly interesting and boring and- Woops. Crap.” Erik smiled.

“Deleted some of his intelligence.”

Ben sprinted from the room.

“Why are you leaving?” Erik shouted after him.


“I do. All the time, but I don’t see how that’s relevant. Oh. Shit.” said Erik as he backed away.

“Great.” said Tyler. “First I gain, and subsequently lose omnipotence, THEN I gain a libido, DESPITE no functional genitals! Dicks.”


Dicks In The Machine

26 Feb

You know it’s a bad day when you walk in to your apartment and see your room-mate assembling a robot. 16 different responses went through Ben’s head before he finally settled on the least insulting. “Why are you assembling a robot on the kitchen floor?”

“Because the dining room table wasn’t big enough.” answered Erik with out turning around. Ben muttered a swear under his breath before trying again.

“I mean why are you assembling a robot at all? And for that matter, where did you get the money for it anyway?”

“Same way I get all my money. I write trashy romance novels. And technically he’s an android.” Erik wired the battery to the core heating, and stuck it in there with bubble gum. Always gotta have bubblegum.

“I thought androids were supposed to look human.” pointed out Ben as he sank in to his chair. “He looks like a microwave.”

“Well, he-”

“A microwave tossed off a cliff.”

“He has this-”

“A microwave stuffed in a dummy and tossed off a cliff in to a juicer.”

“BEN!” snapped Erik but, hilarious hyperbole aside, the metaphor was accurate. “It was this thing, a system, called Skin-O-Tastic Mega-Fier.”

“Skin-O-Tastic Mega-Fier.” said Ben slowly. He rolled the word around his tongue, savouring the gentle, oaky, taste of the word. He then spat it out, and proceeded to say better words like tweed and overambitious to wash the taste out.

“Yeah, Skin-O-Tastic Mega-Fier.” snarled Erik, still angry. “After you put it all together, you hit the button, like this.” He hit the button to demonstrate. “Then it covers the android in clothes and skin, makes it alive and such- oh no.”

Immediately after pressing the button, the Skin-O-Tastic Mega-Fier began its work. It wrapped all the components together in the skin substitute, and in seconds they had an average looking android in a blue hoodie and jeans in their living room.

“Um.” Ben said slowly. “Was that supposed to happen?”

“Um. No.” Erik suddenly scrambled around. “Did we have it all?! Was everything there?”

“Yup! Well. Except this.” Ben reached down and grabbed a chip, which Erik instantly grabbed back and read out loud.

“Mariana Censorship Chip. Keeps Your Robot Family Friendly.” Erik read. “Oh no.”

The androids eye fluttered open, and a kaleidoscope of colours flew through the air.

“What’s his name?” Ben held a pillow over his crotch, just in case.

“Tyler.” answered Erik fearfully.

Tyler got up, surveyed the apartment, and said the first word he ever said ever:


A Very Strange President: Baby Fever

25 Feb

The following is a transcript from inside Van Rooy political headquarters, gathered by eyewitness accounts.

Erik: Hey, Karen! What’s up today?

Carol: Carol, sir. My name is Carol.

Erik: Doubt it.

Carol: Anyway, sir, today you are campaigning. 9:00 sharp.

Erik: Campaigning? Sounds dangerous. You should go first.

Carol: Campaigning is when you go around and make yourself known. The usually, sir. Handshaking, hellos, baby kissing, etc. Should be a snap for you, sir.

Erik: Wait. Go back. Did you say KISSING BABIES?!

Carol: Yes, sir. Why? Is that a problem?

Erik: Why should I kiss babies? I HATE babies! All pink, and wiggly. Squishy. Guh, gives me goosebumps just talking about it.

Carol: Sir, it is an important part of this process. It shows people you care about the young.

Erik: But I don’t.

Carol: Well, yes, sir. But you aren’t supposed to show people that.

Erik: Are babies a big voter? A big percent of the population are babies? Why don’t we just invest in bibs, or ban spinach or something?

Carol: We aren’t campaigning for babies. We’re campaigning for the parents, sir.

Erik: But I don’t WANNA!

Carol: Sir, in all due respect: Suck it up, buttercup. Sir.

Erik: Wah! Now, I am sad. Give me a tumbler of Jack Daniels, stat.


Portal 2 Haiku

25 Feb

Escape from GladOS

Have to go through her chamber

Just don’t wake her up!


In control of all

And my enemies downstairs!

Also, potato.

It’s Called Solitaire For A Reason

23 Feb

“Hey guys! Guess what’s going on!” called Dexter as he walked in to Ben and Erik’s apartment. He did not expect what he saw.

First of all, everything was clean. Although neither boy were slobs, there always seemed to be some mess around. Secondly, Erik was painting a canvas in the middle of the room. Erik never paints. Ever. And thirdly, Ben was sitting at the computer. Whilst wearing a giant spider costume of course.

“Ah! Dexter, I thought you’d be here. New comic book, right? Vex Forces, issue 13 if I’m correct.” said Erik without turning around. He was very intent on his canvas.

“Um. Yes.” said Dexter lamely. He still wasn’t used to the strange place that was this apartment. “Why is Ben in a spider costume?”

“Helps him get in the zone.”

“What zone? And why are you painting?”

“Spider Solitaire, of course. What the hell did you think he was playing? Also, I thought we could use a few pictures around here.”

Ben leapt up, tossing his chair to the ground.”FINAL. DEAL.”

Dexter stepped back slowly. “Why does he take Spider Solitaire so seriously? Good god, he’s like an animal.”

“He is, kind of.” Erik said calmly. Then, with no warning, he hefted his canvas and slammed it in to Ben’s head. Unfortunately for Ben, he did so with the wooden part, and Ben fell to the ground instantly.

Dexter jumped back, tripped over his own feet, and hit the ground as well as Ben. “WHY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING.”

“You ever seen Highlander?” Erik was placing the canvas back at the spot.

“No, why?”

“No reason. Making small talk.”

“Please, tell me what’s going on.”

“When Ben was little, his mom never let him play Solitaire. So, well. He gets a little intense about it. As you can see.”

“So you just hit him in the head before he goes crazy?”

“Pretty much. I’ve seen small soccer riots that look tame compared to him in Spider mode.”

“I swear, I am not coming in to his apartment again without tear gas and riot guns. And back up.”

Turns Out Today SUCKS For Writing

22 Feb

I cannot write a word. Seriously. Tried to do a Presidential story, tried to do one with Erik and Ben, even tried one with quotes. Huh. So instead, I give you this. Also, pie is a good word. PIE. Just say it. PIE. Even this is straining my brain. Bye.

A Very Strange President: Startin’ Up

21 Feb

The following is a transcript from the 2012 Political Conference.

Carol: Thank you all for coming. As you all know, I am the campaign manager for Erik Van Rooy, political candidate. And may I introduce-

Erik: Wazzup?! [He skids on to the stage in pajamas and crashes in to the podium.]

Carol: Erik Van Rooy. [She leaves the stage]

Erik: All right, lets get this party started! Yeaaah, babies. [A reporter steps up]

Mike: Sir, if I may. What purpose did you call this conference? You claim to-

Erik: What’s your name, kid?

Mike: Mike Orridler, writer for the New York Times.

Erik: Shut the fuck up, Mike.

Mike: What did you just tell me to do?

Erik: You heard me. You work for a newspaper, really? Next thing, you’ll be telling me you write on papyrus, and live in a mud house. And the New York Times? Geez. How primitive can you get?

Mike: I will not just stand here and be insulted.

Erik: Good for you, buttercup. That is one thing I will do, by the way. If I am elected, I will get rid of all newspapers. Gradually. I will replace the idiots who read them for the idiots who write them periodically, creating a vortex of lame that keeps them away from the rest of us.

Reporter: For what?

Erik: Pardon, guy who works for a blog?

Reporter: You said “elected”. Elected for what?

Erik: Really? I didn’t tell them? Carol, did I tell them?

Carol: No, sir.

Erik: Damn. I suck. Anyway, elected for president. Of America. Want to make that clear.

Mike: Do you really think a jackass like you could become president?

Erik: You work for a newspaper. You don’t get a vote.

[General agreement from reporters]

Erik: Anything else, before we go zorbing? Got the ball ready and everything.

Reporter: What are you long term campaign goals?

Erik: Complete subjugation and torment of the american people.

Reporter: Oh, okay. Wait. What?