5PM Productions brings back some of its old school spoken word from the podcasts to share with you here on youtube.
You want to know why Rambo shot up that town? Well, it ain't no DaVinci Code...
Friday, February 8, 2008
Rambo Wanted Breakfast (Spoken Word Series)
Alien/Einstein Connection
Albert Einstein was never a physicist. He was a German Chef who made the only meals the alien greys would eat. He was extracted from Germany, not because of any kind of work on a nuclear bomb, but an ability to make some of the most potent sauerkraut and weisswurst in the world. The alien greys wanted to have micro waved food, so they shared some of their secret technology. It turned out to be the wrong formula, all necessary information for building an atomic bomb. Not expecting the humans to figure it out, the aliens quickly shared the the proper microwaving technology for warming cold pizza.
The greys wanted better food, and the government officials wanted a way to stop the Japanese and Germans. The alien greys shared more technology with Albert such as Teflon. Cooking omelets and bacon never got easier. Then again, the cholesterol levels of the greys had never gone up so high before.
Fiber optics and cell phones came about because of the alien greys desire for food prepared fast, which humans would later be introduced to as "fast food." McDonald's is merely a branch of the government finding out if mass feeding will increase production. It has proven very successful since the first McDonalds in 1937. Oldly enough, the fry guys were the mirror image of small greys and Grimace represented what would become of the alien greys from over consumption. Morgan Spurlock was sent in to create mixed messages and misinform the public. Just as prohibition on alcohol proved, once you go anti-anything, you create the curiosity and demand for it.
Once it was made known to the alien greys that the Americans had intentions of attacking the Germans and the Japanese with nuclear weapons, the greys demanded that Germany be spared. They refused to share anymore cooking technology until they were assured Germany would be spared. The greys had been tricked into believing they would be able to visit cities like Wurzburg, Mannheim and Heidelberg. After Germany was leveled with conventional weapons, the Marshall Plan was enacted to quickly rebuild Germany so the alien greys could get that tour of Europe they had been promised (lied to about).
In 1947, the only other known spacecraft to visit earth tried to find their alien grey brethren in Arcada, California. The alien greys miscalculated the gravitational pull of the earth while hoping to take several pictures of the well known White Sands of New Mexico in route to California. The spacecraft crashed into Roswell, New Mexico. The alien greys died before they could try the tasty burgers and fries of McDonalds or make contact with their fellow greys that were being held captive by the United States government.
The government had read H.G. Wells novel War of the Worlds to get a better understanding on how to take care of their captives. They had expected the alien greys to be grossly overweight like the novel had promised, but they were twig skinny. When the greys began gaining weight from mass consumption of German food, the American officials figured the situation to be a natural evolution for the greys. They also waited for earthen bacteria to kill off the greys like the novel had promised. That was a futile waiting game. The greys were healthier on earth due to massive amounts of CFC's in the air from deodorizing cans of Lysol and Glade.
Why does the government keep all the information on the aliens' secret? Because they fucked up in a big way and don't want anyone to know that every single grey in the government's custody died from obesity. If you think Abu Ghraib was bad, you have no idea what happened on an inter-galactic level. The aliens' sex organs were such a convoluted puzzle of antennae, wet spots, and extra eyeballs that the aliens couldn't be forced to masturbate like some of the governments employees would have liked. The government was never quite sure whether or not the aliens were actually being stimulated sexually so they imposed the next worst form of humiliation, the greys were forced to chicken dance.
The only photo of the alien greys to leak out was from their trip to Germany with their favorite chef, Albert Einstein.
The greys wanted better food, and the government officials wanted a way to stop the Japanese and Germans. The alien greys shared more technology with Albert such as Teflon. Cooking omelets and bacon never got easier. Then again, the cholesterol levels of the greys had never gone up so high before.
Fiber optics and cell phones came about because of the alien greys desire for food prepared fast, which humans would later be introduced to as "fast food." McDonald's is merely a branch of the government finding out if mass feeding will increase production. It has proven very successful since the first McDonalds in 1937. Oldly enough, the fry guys were the mirror image of small greys and Grimace represented what would become of the alien greys from over consumption. Morgan Spurlock was sent in to create mixed messages and misinform the public. Just as prohibition on alcohol proved, once you go anti-anything, you create the curiosity and demand for it.
Once it was made known to the alien greys that the Americans had intentions of attacking the Germans and the Japanese with nuclear weapons, the greys demanded that Germany be spared. They refused to share anymore cooking technology until they were assured Germany would be spared. The greys had been tricked into believing they would be able to visit cities like Wurzburg, Mannheim and Heidelberg. After Germany was leveled with conventional weapons, the Marshall Plan was enacted to quickly rebuild Germany so the alien greys could get that tour of Europe they had been promised (lied to about).
In 1947, the only other known spacecraft to visit earth tried to find their alien grey brethren in Arcada, California. The alien greys miscalculated the gravitational pull of the earth while hoping to take several pictures of the well known White Sands of New Mexico in route to California. The spacecraft crashed into Roswell, New Mexico. The alien greys died before they could try the tasty burgers and fries of McDonalds or make contact with their fellow greys that were being held captive by the United States government.
The government had read H.G. Wells novel War of the Worlds to get a better understanding on how to take care of their captives. They had expected the alien greys to be grossly overweight like the novel had promised, but they were twig skinny. When the greys began gaining weight from mass consumption of German food, the American officials figured the situation to be a natural evolution for the greys. They also waited for earthen bacteria to kill off the greys like the novel had promised. That was a futile waiting game. The greys were healthier on earth due to massive amounts of CFC's in the air from deodorizing cans of Lysol and Glade.
Why does the government keep all the information on the aliens' secret? Because they fucked up in a big way and don't want anyone to know that every single grey in the government's custody died from obesity. If you think Abu Ghraib was bad, you have no idea what happened on an inter-galactic level. The aliens' sex organs were such a convoluted puzzle of antennae, wet spots, and extra eyeballs that the aliens couldn't be forced to masturbate like some of the governments employees would have liked. The government was never quite sure whether or not the aliens were actually being stimulated sexually so they imposed the next worst form of humiliation, the greys were forced to chicken dance.
The only photo of the alien greys to leak out was from their trip to Germany with their favorite chef, Albert Einstein.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Conscientious Mercenary
Killing people for profit doesn't have to be bad for the environment. Even though there are countless numbers of contract jobs in forgein countries for any American with a valid passport, I can't justify the fossil fuels needed for all that travel. Any third world country without a McDonald's is not worth spending any time in.
Besides, all my mercenary friends tell me they spend most of their time sitting through dust storms protecting some place that doesn't need protecting or babysitting some asshole who thinks he's invincible. Most of them never get to kill anyone since the twenty-four hour cable news networks refuse to report on anything other than them. Mercenary Dave always told me how Wolf Blitzer kept tapping him on the shoulder and asking, "Are you trying to kill someone today?"
I've found an untapped local mercenary job here in Milwaukee on craigslist. The advertisment was pretty simple, "Hitman needed to reduce the number of drunk drivers in Milwaukee." There's only one thing that's better than killing for money, it's killing for a cause. Really makes me feel warm and helpful inside.
I look back at my own life a lot. My dad had three DUI's in one year. Instead of penalizing him, the state of Wisconsin gave him medication which he sells on the black market. He's a great entrprnuer. My mom crashed the family station wagon into the picture window of the house while she was too drunk to realize it wasn't the garage. The city paid for the damages through the federal programs created due to Hurricane Katrina. Self-inflicted damage is no different than the damage caused by living in areas of high risk natural disasters.
I was excited to make a diffence, but I also wanted to be able to walk to work. So I got a sixth floor apartment along Water Street where all the bars are. The Lee Harvey Oswald style of murder didn't appeal to me, even though I could stay warm and cozy in my apartment. There's nothing like drinking rooibush tea in between looking through my scope at the uncoordinated drunkards walking along Water Street trying to find their cars. People die everyday, and why shouldn't some of the people doing the hard part be as comfortable as possible? Instead, I got out of my apartment and close to those I was hired to reduce.
I don't racially profile or stereotype a person by their attire. Everyone has an even opprotunity to meet the maker of their choosing a bit sooner than expected. I really like to utilize my style of creativity when I kill. Who wants to be remembered as the guy who got pushed in front of the bus? Every hit is worthy of a CSI: Milwaukee special starring Henry Winkler. Leave the driving up to the "big green limosine" and the killing up to me.
If you know someone who drinks a little too much everytime they go out to the bars on Water Street, you have a responsibility to stop them before they hurt someone that some one else loves. Everyone is someone else's loved one. I am legally bound to offer you the oxygen a drunkard you point out was using up. Get rid of the ex-boyfriend that used to drive you home drunk way too many times to count. There's no reason to give him the chance to get your best friend killed, now that he's dating her since he broke up with you.
What's always sprinkled around the lifeless body of what was once a drunkard are my form of calling card, animal crackers. Moth cocoons are a bitch to find. I love being an independent contractor for the department of motor vehicles. It's alomost the weekend again, I'll be checking on you along Water Street.
Besides, all my mercenary friends tell me they spend most of their time sitting through dust storms protecting some place that doesn't need protecting or babysitting some asshole who thinks he's invincible. Most of them never get to kill anyone since the twenty-four hour cable news networks refuse to report on anything other than them. Mercenary Dave always told me how Wolf Blitzer kept tapping him on the shoulder and asking, "Are you trying to kill someone today?"
I've found an untapped local mercenary job here in Milwaukee on craigslist. The advertisment was pretty simple, "Hitman needed to reduce the number of drunk drivers in Milwaukee." There's only one thing that's better than killing for money, it's killing for a cause. Really makes me feel warm and helpful inside.
I look back at my own life a lot. My dad had three DUI's in one year. Instead of penalizing him, the state of Wisconsin gave him medication which he sells on the black market. He's a great entrprnuer. My mom crashed the family station wagon into the picture window of the house while she was too drunk to realize it wasn't the garage. The city paid for the damages through the federal programs created due to Hurricane Katrina. Self-inflicted damage is no different than the damage caused by living in areas of high risk natural disasters.
I was excited to make a diffence, but I also wanted to be able to walk to work. So I got a sixth floor apartment along Water Street where all the bars are. The Lee Harvey Oswald style of murder didn't appeal to me, even though I could stay warm and cozy in my apartment. There's nothing like drinking rooibush tea in between looking through my scope at the uncoordinated drunkards walking along Water Street trying to find their cars. People die everyday, and why shouldn't some of the people doing the hard part be as comfortable as possible? Instead, I got out of my apartment and close to those I was hired to reduce.
I don't racially profile or stereotype a person by their attire. Everyone has an even opprotunity to meet the maker of their choosing a bit sooner than expected. I really like to utilize my style of creativity when I kill. Who wants to be remembered as the guy who got pushed in front of the bus? Every hit is worthy of a CSI: Milwaukee special starring Henry Winkler. Leave the driving up to the "big green limosine" and the killing up to me.
If you know someone who drinks a little too much everytime they go out to the bars on Water Street, you have a responsibility to stop them before they hurt someone that some one else loves. Everyone is someone else's loved one. I am legally bound to offer you the oxygen a drunkard you point out was using up. Get rid of the ex-boyfriend that used to drive you home drunk way too many times to count. There's no reason to give him the chance to get your best friend killed, now that he's dating her since he broke up with you.
What's always sprinkled around the lifeless body of what was once a drunkard are my form of calling card, animal crackers. Moth cocoons are a bitch to find. I love being an independent contractor for the department of motor vehicles. It's alomost the weekend again, I'll be checking on you along Water Street.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
