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I’ve been thinking of vacationing outside the dome but then I’d have to pick up my environsuit from the cleaners, rent artificial lung tanks and brush up on my Flargonese. “Gleetor Doo” means, “Where’s the toilet pad?” Whatever, Flargons!

Lawyers are like herpes. Everyone’s got them and they’re expensive to suppress.

Some animals that we’ve allowed to exist are cool but others should go back to extinction. Dreamflies are awesome but I hate those depressing Butterflies. I wish I could get paid to swat those tri-colored wing worms out of the artificial sky.

The giant Glade plug-in at the smell factory ran out of scent-juice last week and the stench from the boron energy fields wafted up to my residence pod. The smell was so bad I almost wished I wasn’t created with the sensitivity of a thousand dog noses but then I caught a whiff of tacos from Old Mexico and it totally made up for it.

Life is full of tough decision. Like, what TV channel should you download, should you pull the plug on your 400-year-old grandmother and when do you fire your Butlerbot?

The Science Masters won’t let us have books and I say good riddance! The only way I can learn is with pretty pictures and approximately three bouncing breasts.

My boss claims to have traveled to the land of women but he’s full of boron.

Saturday Social Hour is the worst part of my week. I could understand maybe fifteen minutes of social interaction but an hour? That’s an extra forty five minutes that my penises are away from the orgasmatron!

When I told the new kid at work that I don’t teleport anymore he called me a squarebot. Listen, in my youth I’d teleport from Neo Egypt to New New York, but those days are over and I don’t miss the molecular reassembly hangovers one bit. So don’t tell me about teleporting when you’re not even old enough to drink Fermented Social Beverage, kid!

My dream for Human and Flargon peace really took a step backwards when Celebri-God Danny DeVito showed up drunk on the Flargon View and said that all Flargons were born out of Donald Trump’s third anus. It was pretty funny, though.

I hate buying a new computer because it’ll be outdated by the time you take it out of the cloud box. For what I paid to get my eggplant processor you can now get a dual-shelled unsalted peanut processor.

I wrote a poem;
The lightbulb-sun illuminates the dome
My brand new Butlerbot welcomes me home
Flargons and Humans unite at the cores
We just have different-sized herpes sores

So there I was, rockin’ my gold fanny pack and silver high-top chucks on my way to kickball practice on my fixed-gear bike when…BAM!

Some Screech passes me on the right on his way to deliver some disgusting food full of meat and cheese animal-death and my shoe lace gets all wrapped up in my gear - my fixed-gear.

If you know anything about fixed-geared bikes, which you totes should because it’s the fuckin’ jam, you know you can’t stop peddling or you will totes wipe out and look like a totes douchetrain.

Luckily, I lace my hot orange shoelaces all cool and tubularly rad so they are nice and loose and I was able to keep peddling while they simply unlaced themselves…or so I totes thought!

I was right in front of the tattoo parlor that I get all my work done and my fixed-gear jams and I fall flat on my face! It’s a good thing I no longer wear gauged ear plugs, a septum ring, and a lip ring - thank GOD it’s not ‘02 anymore!

I would have totes jacked up my facial scene.

All was not totes lost, though. I looked up while I laid there on the ground, wishing a tight-pants gentlemen with gnarly sleeves would sweep me off my feet when I peep a street vendor I’ve never seen before.

She had THE. MOST. Bangin’ neon 80’s t-shirts of anyone in the world that ever existed ever in all of existence in all of the universe of everything in existence everywhere. I stood up, brushed myself off and ran to her with all remaining strength after my traumatic geek-spill.

I purchased every last Tee at her stand and bounced off to kickball practice.

Moral of the story? Some Screeches aren’t as bad as you think. If he hadn’t forgotten basic bike-driving laws, I never would have fallen into the dopest Tee find of the year!

Hasta La Pasta!

With all of the great blockbusters in the movie theater it’s easy to forget about the blockbusters in your videogame theaters!

Final Fantasy IV

It’s hard to believe this mediocre monster-hunting franchise has lasted four installments but Retro Studios keeps cranking them out. I have a feeling, though, that this will indeed be the last one. The final fantasy, if you will.
Score = 4.3

Soul Caliber IV

.22 .44 .Soul! Choose your caliber and blast through nine frenetic levels of brutal light gun shootery. Each console features an exclusive character including Scott Baio, Erik Estrada and Hitler!
Score = 7.8

Izuna 2: The Unemployed Ninja Returns

After three years with a job, Izuna returns as the unemployed ninja we all know and love. Drink sake, watch TV and change the channel with a ninja star – who knows, maybe you’ll beat the game and impregnate a fellow deadbeat ninja!
Score = Get a Job

Sid Meier’s Civilization Revolution

Sid Meier, the revolutionary leader of civilization games releases the most redundantly-titled game since Joe Montana’s NFL Football ’94.
Score = Score Score Score

Guitar Hero: Aerosmith

Riding the coattails of Guitar Hero 1 and 2, Aerosmith debuts the only game that lets you play whatever the hell songs Aerosmith plays. Dream on? Nap on! And I tried playing this game with my standard controller instead of the guitar and Steven Tyler’s giant fish-mouth literally yelled at me.
Score = Cryin’?!

Final Fantasy Tactics A2

I can’t w8 4 B3!
Score = 9.9

***Classic Uninformed Review***

Contra

Spanish for “against” this seminal Atari title pits contenders…against…each other. Karate guy vs. Sumo. Baseball player vs. Lawyer. Fun vs. Awesome!
Score = 10 million

It has come to the attention of Mindaugus and myself that the Herkimer name has taken a lashing on this here website.

To my dismay, fellow editorial writer Gerald Gunderson has made numerous attacks on me, my faithful ferret and General E. Herkimer, who lost his life while fighting side by side with one of the “Gundoz”.

Mr. Gunderson has called on me to join him in his World of Warcraft realm to settle this centuries-old dispute, once and for all.

It has been suggested by the owner of this site, Mr. Julius Bloop, that it is not fair to solve our dispute this way considering I don’t play said game.

To which Gerald replied: “If Lionel is a 14-28yr old male and doesn’t play he’s a fgt anyway LOL”

For your information, “sir”, I am 35-years-young. I know what you’re inferring, though. “Lionel, why is an intelligent adult relegated to working in the Doolittle Shopping Center’s Sears Customer Service Department?”

I suppose the only answer I can give is - fate.

For whatever reason, the Gods above have decided to hand me the short end of the stick in every aspect of my life.

No matter how much more cultured I am than the miscreants I encounter, they always come out the victor. Just last week I came upon a particularly ghoulish customer who, in a most scurrilous manner, sauntered up to my desk, hurled her enormous arms in my direction, and plopped down what she THOUGHT to be the latest trend in clothing.

I can see where she might’ve been confused. Culottes are very ambiguous as far as time periods go.

The entire time I interacted with this beast, I was taking “privileged mongoloid” inventory. Bluetooth? Check. Enormous diamond ring (on her enormous digits)? Check. No less than 6 credit cards? Check.

This barbarian has been able to waddle through life without the least bit of effort, and has wealth and success to show for it. Lionel Herkimer, on the other hand, has had it a little different.

My mother was not so much…around when I was young. My father, Lloyd Y. Herkimer said it had something to do with the fact that, “Pin monkeys with a receding hairline, a size 52 waist and a passion for huffing hobby glue out of a Ziplock bag just aren’t attractive these days.”

So Mom left at an early age and the next 33 years of my life were spent in mild obscurity. People don’t exactly find me…attractive, interesting, hygienic, etc.

Not spoiled enough to afford a proper stay in academia, I was forced to obtain knowledge in a less conventional way. I, along with my then newborn Mindaugus, lived in my father’s basement.

I had…acquired a few political journals through the local library, and my life was changed. I spent hours upon hours in that basement reading those journals, engulfing every last word, until I had every passage committed to memory.

Years passed, I got more reading material and eventually I was given an ultimatum by my father. I believe his exact words were, “If you and that fucking ferret don’t get a goddamn life and get the fuck out of my basement, I’m going to rip your fucking ears off and sick a rabid dog on you.”

It was clear that I needed a change of scenery.

So, I scoured the job ads and stumbled across the Doolittle Shopping Center’s Sears Customer Service Department. The rest, as they say, is history.

So, Gerald, I know that the Gundersons have always been well-off, as evidenced by the lush neighborhood in Gary, Indiana you call home. So, next time you call someone a “fgt”, you should do some research.

TV Funhouse was a short-lived, highly subversive, adult version of Saturday morning kid’s programming that ran on Comedy Central in 2000. The brilliant Robert Smigel took his Saturday Night Live success and compiled a fantastic team of writers including Dino Stamatopolous, Jon Glaser and Bob Odenkirk.

The show was just released on DVD and if you haven’t seen it, please check it out. You absolutely will not regret exposing yourself to one of the best weirdo-driven comedies of all time.

The Internet is full of crap claiming to be comedy.

I am your filter.

Here are the comedy videos you need.

Channel 101: Online TV Station featuring original content
Blame Society: Home of Chad Vader and much more

Here are some humor blogs that actually contain comedy.

The Reasonable Ego: Unique voice and original topics
Leigh Online: Gives blogging a much-needed feminine touch
Angry Seafood: Random, solid content
Mattress Police: Features popular caption contest
Comedy Central Insider: Comedian news

Well, the Family Feud continues.

In my time as a General of the Alliance’s God-willed forces - going on 2 years now, mind you - I’ve learned that the past never ceases to haunt even the most capable commanders.

Such is the case with General Gunderson, whose leadership lineage hearkens back to the American Revolution. JuliusBloop writer Lionel Herkimer knows a little something about the Gunderson clan.

Before I led raids for the Shattered Sun Offensive - even before a ragtag group of courageous Gnomes liberated The Scholomance from the clutches of The Scourge - and before I became a warrior in the service of Jesus Christ IRL, that legendary Gunderson blood fueled my destiny.

In the discussion of Lionel’s Diaries of a Desk Clerk, we learned a little bit about his surname Herkimer. Herkimer is famous for two things: diamonds [quartz, not Azerothian LOL] and my ancestor, Jaribald Strunk Gunderson.

I’m a lot like Grandpa Jaribald. Under General Nicholas Herkimer, my Grandpa was a surgeon in the Tryon County Militia, and after a few thousand hours of playtime, my First Aid skill is 375.

Hell, if Grandpa Jaribald could’ve made Heavy Netherweave Bandages, our Patriots would’ve kicked British ass by like 1779 and then we wouldn’t have had to put up with the Beatles or Oasis LOLLL.

Srsly, Nickelback r00lz.

Ok, so what’s all this have to do with stupid Lionel Herkimer? His ancestor, General Herkimer, took a bullet in the leg at the Battle of Oriskany [at least it wasn’t a Shadowbolt LOL]. There’s even a famous painting of Herkimer commanding his forces under the duress of injury:

And here, friends and supporters of the Alliance, is where my historical blood libel with Lionel’s stupid Herkimers begins. General Herkimer wasn’t pointing at the militia, he was pointing at Dr. Grandpa Gunderson and yelling, “GET THAT PEON GUNDERSON - MY LEG IS FUCKED” lol

Grandpa Jaribald’s first aid skill sure as Herk [LOL] didn’t come from Theramore’s Triage Quest. He was probably like 125 or something [the Revolution was before the Burning Crusades expansion pack], and you can only wrap wool and cure simple spider poisons at that level. But Herkimer was bitten by a bullet, not a Bane Spider. Grandpa Jaribald didn’t know what to do and General Herkimer died.

That’s how it all started. The Herkimers blamed the Gundersons for Nick’s untimely demise and there’s been tension ever since. Us “Gundoz” have tried to combat it, but the “Herkz” are just hardier than we are. Just compare Lionel’s beard to my nubile, delicate face. You just can’t wrestle with shit like that because you’ll get chaffed.

So now, Lionel, we’re going to settle this in the Nagrand Arena. Download and install the trial, n00b. A Mohawk bullet started it, and my warlock’s Seed of Corruption is going to finish it.

The harassment from the Herkimers was why GundoMomz had to move me in the womb from New York to Gary, Indiana [she told me it was cuz my real dad was a sex offender but I don’t buy that shit at all LOL]. Well, guess what, Lionel?

I’m tired of this shit! Meet me on Malfurion at the Gates of Ironforge and be prepared for a fight to the death. HIGH NOON. [I’m in Gary, Indiana so that’s high noon Central not Eastern LOL].

The tables have turned, the balance of power has shifted. The Gundersons have God on their side now [and I just put a Runed Living Ruby in my Season 3 Helm so you’re gonne get PWNED fgt].

I’ve already notified The Alliance of this most-necessary sabbatical to restore my family honor:

FlyinHaiAgin: hey fagz i need 2 promote sum1 2 lead so i can kick this douchebagz ass LOL
Spurmwayle: me
FartOnU: me
LeetPwnage: fuck u gtfo

The three G’s - God, Gunderson and Gnomes - will end this dispute once and for all. Buff up with Power Word: Fortitude and the Blessing of Kings, Lionel Herkimer. You’re about to get sent to the Spirit Healer.

Gunderson OUT.

Follow his journey
Diary Of A World Of Warcraft Player - Moms Are For Real Life Only
Diary Of A World Of Warcraft Player - Respect your General
Diary Of A World Of Warcraft Player - These Kids Have No Game

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Jul

23

Floating Together - Mysterious Happenings

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