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Daily Spew

     Well, friends and neighbors, looks like I am a complete moron. I somehow managed to delete the entire contents of the old DailySpew! (Yeah, that link there, that means I found it again...which means the rest of this paragraph is a lie.) So we start anew, with one update a year and all kinds of new opportunities for fun with Google and suicide methods...

7/12/2005 Today's way out: Taco Surprise!

     Locate a carpeting place, warehouse, whatever, and find a large roll of home carpeting. The more expensive the better. Lay the entire roll out, and lay down on one end. Grab the edge, and roll yourself up in the carpet. You'll die of dehydration, and the chemicals gassing out of new carpet should keep you preserved for a ridiculously long time. With you last conscious thought, delight in the image of the faces of the wealthy sumbitches who find your corpse rolling down their stairs while the carpet installers look on horror-stricken.

(I know it's more of a 'Fajita Surprise,' but that doesn't have the same ring...)


7/11/2005 In honor of the date, every reader of this website has a homework assignment: the placement of appreciable amounts of fecal matter into the Slurpee machine at your local convenience store. (Photographic evidence is required for credit. Extra credit for deceased animals or exotic fecal samples, i.e. corn, orangutan doo.)


3/3/2005 Fun with Google!


2/28/2005 Children: Betcha can't eat just one!


2/19/2005 Today's Profundity:

                    Every task you complete is one fewer reason to wake up tomorrow.


2/16/2005 Today's way out: Tsunami!

You ever see those water towers they have up on hills and whatnot? Yeah. Get some dynamite, plastic explosive, homemade pipe bombs, whatever, and wrap the supports for one of those things with it. For maximum proximal collateral damage, find a water tower in a densely populated area. Put it on a timer or put a fuse or whatever. Now, strap yourself to a surfboard, clad in your best beach gear. Goggles are a necessity. Get in the top of the water tower somehow and blow that motherfucker. Alternatively, in the same outfit, stand in the middle of the street for the five minutes before 'high tide'. Now you'll know what Noah felt like.

Surf's up, bitches.