SUSPENDED!

We are experiencing technical difficulties. For now, I will be posting new comics on the 3:00 blog. I'm sure everything will be back to normal by next week. I hope by friday - I wrote a Halloween comic! I also apologize if this note is not clever and funny.

North American Union

I believe that what we are experiencing currently with our failed economy is the inevitable convincing needed for public approval:

From msnbc:
"A runaway train of a sell-off turned the anniversary of the stock market peak into one of the darkest days in Wall Street history Thursday, driving the Dow Jones industrials down a breathtaking 679 points and deepening a financial crisis that has defied all efforts to stop it. Stocks lost more than 7 percent, $872 billion of investments evaporated, and the Dow fell to 8,579. When the average crashed through the 9,000 level for the first time in five years in the final hour of trading, sellers had only begun to hit the gas pedal.As bad as the day was, even worse was the cumulative effect of a historic run of declines: The Dow suffered a triple-digit loss for the sixth day in a row, a first, and the average dropped for the seventh day in a row, a losing streak not seen since 2002."

This financial crisis will lead our people, the people of the United Sates of America to agree, without revolution, in the North American Union. Am I the only one to remember how much republicans hate Mexicans? And now, Bush passes this open border policy? The "amero" the otherwise lamer name referring to the"euro" will be our new currency. And not only that! Our Declaration of Independence will be gone. Who are we kidding? It has been gone. With one Union comes one Bank - does that frighten anyone? I think we should think globally, but currency is corrupt today. Giving it more power over more people with indefinitely make us more of the slaves we are currently, TODAY. Now is a perfect time for our government to pull this kind of bullshit. American people, "Oh, no! Who am I going to vote for?" How many presidential debates will we watch on t.v. without seeing coverage on this very important subject?

This is what President George W. Bush had to say about the North American Union:

"Americans are going to remain Americans, Canadians are going to remain Canadians and Mexicans are going to remain Mexicans,"

What the fuck does that mean? Are you kidding, you asshole!? I am sick of these fucking statements that do not answer questions. They use nouns as if they were explanation enough of my rights!

What if on November 4th, no one voted? We have seen the popular vote does not count, but we ignored it. President George W. Bush has been accused of far worse things than a blow job and yet he has not been even threatened with impeachment. He wasn't even elected!!!!!!!!!! I wonder if not voting would show we have no faith in this supposed "government" that rules our society. I wonder if not voting would be a peaceful act in revolution. I am sending this post into the void of cyberspace, a desperate plea. Now's the time.

Political Non Political Statement

We, at the 3:00 book, choose not to make political statements. Here, at the 3:00 book, we feel political statements were created in order to cause fear and chaos among the people. Currently, in the United States we are facing an awesome and terrible moment within our economic structure. We are falling, spiraling down a path to certain destruction. The Second Depression is upon us, like Jesus. Making
jokes concerning these types of psychological torture would be just too mean, cruel and easy. I mean, we could make u laugh at whatever we wanted. Through using fear we might even get you to buy something, but what we at the, 3:00 book, are trying to sell you is, FREEDOM. Don't worry. Debt consolidation will save us. Soon we will have a NEW president!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Cabbage Patch Kids and the New Social Order

I love medicated chap stick. I love medicated chap stick because it smells like cabbage patch kids. That new plastic mixed with baby powder. Olfactory reception is said to be the strongest sense of memory. So, while applying medicated chap stick to my lips, breathing in the vapors, nosetalgia hit. My first cabbage patch doll was named, Sue, after my mom. Sue was a tough kid, I had to beat her a lot to get her to behave. My grandmom had one named, Thomas, who was younger than Sue. I was never allowed to play with Thomas. "He's not for playing." He had the cutest little sweat suit with bright white gym shoes. Finally, I got my own bald cabbage patch, his name was Tyler. Way more precious than Thomas and younger too. Sue was getting to be too much to handle and eventually I made her sleep in my parents bedroom until my mom let me throw her out. Then there were preemies.

I remember the commercial when they first came out. They were in those adorable plastic incubators! The nurses gently picked the petite baby up and put them in the little girls arms saying, "Be careful. Preemies need extra love and attention." Maybe my memory is skewed, but I swear that little girl was crying from happiness. I couldn't wait to have my own preemie. I never got one. I suspected my parents were a little out of touch with the cabbage patch scene. I was glad though because my friends who had them were so obsessed with caring for their preemies their lives fell apart. First, it was the endless boring conversations at lunch, "My preemie this, my preemie that." Next, their grades started slipping. Ultimately, you never saw your friend again. It wasn't until, out of curiosity, I read the side of my dad's pack of Camels that I realized a bigger issue was at stake.

"Surgeon General's Warning: Smoking By Pregnant Women May Result in Premature Birth, And Low Birth Weight." (No wonder it's called, "Being on the patch.") I was so confused. I thought that preemies were desirable, so why was this doctor army "warning" pregnant women. Wouldn't you want your baby to be cute? It was explained to me later that premature birth was not good. My world was then turned upside down. I decided to further investigate this whole cabbage patch operation. What was this Mr.X up to? He obviously had been lying about the cabbage patch. I may have been young, but I certainly wasn't born yesterday. Babies aren't grown in fields.

If I had a choice I would have cut up Sue first, but she was long gone by then. Tyler had to be sacrificed. It's still hard for me to talk about. What I found, wasn't cute. Tyler wasn't put together very well. Just six knots of thread located on the elbows, knees, upper thigh and buttocks. All the rest was stuffing. What were my parents paying for? I talked to the other kids at school. I tried to explain to them that premature birth is caused by smoking and not by an early harvest. I also told them that the C.P.K.'s were actually just cheaply put together dolls taken from mother's who smoked cigarettes. My friends all knew about the discipline problems I had with Sue and how it would make sense that this was because her mom was a smoker, but they refused to believe me. The C.P.K.'s had brain washed them. I was too late. I hadn't given up, I just needed more proof.

I spent over a month watching C.P.K. commercials only to find out that the people in the commercials were actors, not real people. I followed the C.P.K.'s in the news. On the surface it all looked very impressive, everyone wanted them. In 1985, one C.P.K. by the name of, Christopher Xavier, became the first of his kind to travel into space! I thought to myself, "This is getting out of hand."

In conclusion, I came to understand that C.P.K.'s themselves were not real, pretend. It was their concept that was reality. They were more than just dolls, they were examples of us: homeless and desperate for love, validated by their looks and material possessions. Birth certificates with trendy names verify their existence. Raised by children who are lead by a society promoting cyclical development, like for instance; creating a doll that makes sickness seem appealing.

And what did my parents say when they were me:
"You may say that I'm a dreamer.
But I'm not the only one."

Elizabeth Bathory:The Blood Countess

I enjoy reading horrible books. Very badly written books. I'm not alone. Anything to do with vampires, people who morph into animals, sex, murder, pregnancy and the south - I'm in. The trick to reading them is to pretend you are on a date and you just want to have sex. Like when the person is talking about their dull life, they're just so uninteresting, you nod and smile and just hope that their penis is really big or if you're into girls, just hope she doesn't have too much cellulite on her ass, that really grosses you out.
The good parts. Once you get to the good parts, take your time. Read over your favorite paragraphs. Don't be shy. This is what you came for, enjoy it.
As far as character development goes, don't feel bad about not investing too much. Just pick one and stick with that, it's enough. A good bad writer knows this and probably overdeveloped one character to a point where you can't even pay attention to the other characters. When they talk, you're like, "Wait. What was that? I really shouldn't be drunk while I'm reading this."
The plot. In order to follow a very badly written plot, keep in mind, self indulgence will lead you nowhere. Sure, the plot is what keeps you reading, but don't expect any results. In the end it will only disappoint you. Once you finish reading a bad book you must wait at least 30 days reading something useful before you start another. It might make you sick to read two bad books back to back! If you turn reading into a mindless, shallow act it will undoubtedly become less fulfilling. Eventually, you won't even remember the last book you read! Books will begin to all look the same to you, just a fuzzy merging of titles and cheap illustrations. Obviously, I speak from personal experience and I feel fortunate none of the authors have my phone number.
Lastly, please remember to wear a condom. You don't want to get any sexually transmitted denouements!

Excerpt from good bad book I'm reading now:

Elizabeth Bathory: The Blood Countess
"Slipping swiftly behind her like a knife blade into a deerskin sheath, the puppeteer said,"Your devoted slave is here, Countess." Without speaking a word, Johannes, still holding her hand, bent over the outer rim of the fountain. He wore a short tunic that barely covered his behind, and velvet leggings just like Elizabeth's. The Gypsy pulled these down, revealing the boy's white buttocks. He then undid his cloak and guided something that looked to Elizabeth like a small roast between Johannes's buttocks. She was still holding Johannes's hand when he tightened it over hers so hard she thought it would break. She reached for the Gypsy's round flesh with her other hand. It was warm, covered with fine velvety skin, finer than the texture of her tights. She parted the slit at the top of it, and a drop of thick, slippery substance met her finger. She rubbed it between thumb and forefinger. She then felt under Johannes's robe and drew the tip of her wet finger around the tiny puckered flower at the center of his buttocks. She then guided the Gypsy's manhood to the place and held on to it until it slipped between her fingers and buried itself into the boy. The sensation of touching the two boys made Elizabeth very warm, as if a small flame, beginning at the center of her spine, had shut suddenly upward, filling her brain. Her mouth was dry, and her boyish tights clung to her legs with her own wetness. At the center of this delicious sensation there was also a thought: if this is what I can make happen because I am Countess Bathory, think of all that I may experience in the future. I am only eleven years old now, and I know very little about pleasure."

Your welcome. I read this last night in my bedroom, with the lights on!
Elizabeth Bathory is a bad ass, literately.

How to Skip Church by Beth Heinly (F-)

1. When leaving the house say good bye to parents. Do not look
them in eye, they might know what you're up to.

2. Walk in the general direction of church.

3. While walking to church, think of areas around church you could hide out for an hour.
Somewhere safe and secluded where no adults would be suspicious of your activity.
ie: park, train tracks, parking lot

4. Make sure you bring a book to read or if you were unable to smuggle one out of the house
try to think of things you can day dream about for an hour. Preferably, for day dreaming, go
to a park with streams of water. You can stare at streams of water and throw rocks into them.

5. Approximately 45 minutes into your hiding, you need to head back to the church.

6. Sneak in quietly. If you made it back at the perfect time there will be music and people
rushing out. If not, I suggest waiting out front until you hear this. This distraction is vital.

7. By the door there will be pamphlets covered in advertisements for local businesses. This may
seem insignificant to you, but it is your alibi. Grab one!

8. On your walk home try to think of masses you went to before. Remember the homily? This
is something your parents will ask you about as you hand them the pamphlet.

9. For those of you who are stumped and can not make up a gospel. Use this one, it works
every time. And remember these key words, "New Testament". THE HOMILY IS ALWAYS
FROM THE NEW TESTAMENT. Knowing this fact will avoid any further interrogation no
matter what bullshit story you make up from the bible. AND here is my favorite I use:
"From the book of John. 'Jesus is the light and the grass and the streams. He is everywhere
all around us. So, there's really no need to go to church. Those who truly live through me
are conscious everyday and could die at any moment.' Amen."
*But I would only use this one for your last day at church.

10. If by some chance you chicken out, do not sit down. Stand in the back the entire time.
Try to walk in and out during mass. Their are usually rooms with pamphlets and candles.
The pamphlets are humorous reading, very entertaining. The candles are pretty to look
at. While looking at them, make up stories like, "How to Make a Saint With Fake Miracles".

11. If approached by a priest complaining about, "How you're not sitting down and you keep
walking in and out of church during mass." Just tell him, "Jesus doesn't want you to be
sitting down. And he wants you to come and go as you please." If he says, "I don't believe
you.", say,"I completely understand how you feel."
*But I would only use this one for your last day at church.

12. Lastly, the most important thing you need to know about, "How to Skip Church" is:
For the rest of your life, always remember, "You're going to hell."

Who's the Boss?

"Time has nothing to do with life, but it's full of it." This ran through my head while watching "Who's the Boss?". A show I had no idea I watched so much of until on a quest for nostalgia I sat on the couch and turned on the T.V.
In a flash, the entire "Who's the Boss?" synopsis came back to me. It hit me, I watched "Who's the Boss?" when I was little, a lot. Angela and Tony are two extremely attractive people that seem, if the opportunity arose, would have the worst sex in the history of time. So, they never have sex and when they finally do, their show gets canceled, the world ends. I remember, it was 1992 and I was eleven, "What the Fuck?". Of course, the lines of time are somewhat construed because of syndication, but I know in high school and my later years in grade school, my nightly time slots were taken by "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" and "Dawson's Creek", that's right. So here I am at 26 and I had no idea my brain was full of all this worthless information about "Who's the Boss?". That's when that thought about time rang in my ear. While I was busy being middle class (white trash) watching television I could have been reading. I could have been playing. I feel dumb. I feel stupid. How the fuck do I know so much about "Who's the Boss?"? There's cartoons there too. Growing Pains, Facts of Life. And Full House. Are you kidding? That house was huge. They had plants in their hallway. I even watched "The Andy Griffith Show" because I watched Nickelodeon, which lead to Nick at Nite. That's two mother fucking abbreviated words. "Talk about your double speak." When I die, one of the last electric pulses released into nothing will be a snippet of a Tony and Angela make-out scene mixed in with Angela's mom, Mona and her old lady boobs, gross. Though I really hope Babar is there, what a nice elephant.
And now in my disgusted and depressed state I am writing a "blog". I've planned to end with, read a book, but FUCK. FUCK. This is not some random old person year, 1912. This is 2008, mother fuckers. This subject is as tired as 1912, fuck that. We are all just animals being molded by each other in some dim fate that some are born into power and some are not. Read a book.
I saw a pro-life bumper sticker: "Life is a gift, not a choice." It's funny because, wow, life is not a choice and time is money and knowledge is power.


Genius.

"Last Thought"
Who is the boss?

AOA

A.O.A. stands for Accent on Animals. A pet store where I buy cat food and kitty litter that's made from recycled newspaper, the kitty litter. I have no idea what's in the cat food. There's an old man who works there that I like enough to feel guilty calling him an old man. He tells me about the weather while waiting for my debit card to be approved. Moments that always seem longer than they should, waiting to be accepted. Calmly, waiting, the old man tells me what the weather will be like and he never picks the same day. Sometimes it's tomorrow or Tuesday. Sometimes as far as into the following week, but he never says if it's good or bad weather, which is nice. Last Wednesday I went to A.O.A. and the old man met me at the counter, swiped my card and looked down at me. He told me it was supposed to sleet and snow later in the day. And I looked up at him and said, "No, it's not. That was yesterday."

.00less

I have three ways in which I would like to introduce myself. First, breakfast.
I take a total of four vitamins a day. Vitamin B-12 for my mood swings. Another vitamin B supplement called Bioitin that’s good for my skin and teeth, vitamin D for healthy bones and a strong immune system. Finally, Black Cohosh, which is also for mood swings, for post-menopausal women. I just figured, why not. And now, cigarette. Sweet, sweet first cigarette. That’s nice. Coffee too. Mm. Mm. Mm. I love coffee. And a bagel. Yummy.

Public Transportation. You never know what could happen. Or what smell will finally be the worst smell. Bum picking dead skin off his feet while eating a soft pretzel. Piss. Or what you might see if you actually look. Black man exposing his penis. Wow. I once asked one of the workers what the worst thing they saw was and the worker looked away for a second. Taking his time for me. “Probably dead people.” Jesus Jumpin.

I want to put the American flag on my floor and then cover it with catnip. Set up a video camera and film my cats rubbing, licking, and humping the American flag.

I think I'm going to die at 11:53. I have no idea if it's a.m. or p.m. Welcome to the 3:oo book.