Chris M. Ferguson

There was a $100 million dollar gap in funds directed for the Iraq War. No one knows what it was for and the government aren’t talking. Well, I’ll tell you. Lemme just light a cigarette, yea?

$100 million dollars went into the experiment of getting dolphins saline-filled breast implants. Let that sink in. They want more people to go to zoos — and it won’t help with even more perverts trying to wiggle their fuck-sticks into these poor animals’ blowholes, but the kids might think it’s part of a show.

“Sexy animals” isn’t.

Obviously this isn’t true — as far as I am aware — but the day will come. You heard it here first, My Spicy Chicken Peeps.

© 2008 Chris M Ferguson

Fat Kid aka Will Jones teaches you how to exercise in his “Stud Muffin” shirt in his living room. This video just hit this week and I’m assuming his classmates just ripped him a new asshole. It’s probably the funniest thing I’ve seen on Internet Land and that’s saying a lot, My Spicy Chicken Peeps.

I’d also recommend checking out the Dugg comments.  Priceless.

Lucious Taequinius Superbus.

Superbus.

Holy shit. Came across this while doing research for Old Rome project.

If you have a problem with Bill Hicks… step the fuck out.

Oh yes:

“I have examined all the known superstitions of the world, and I do not find in our particular superstition of Christianity one redeeming feature. They are all alike founded on fables and mythology..”

– Thomas Jefferson

God, I’m tired. Wrapping up a few scripts, drafts of other scripts, outlining new stuff, work tomorrow at eight in the morn’, don’t have a car yet. Ugh. Tomorrow there’ll be an ice prick with my brain on it.

Gimme your ammunition because I just don’t have enough for the stupid creatures posing as humans teeming on this earth.

The director, Romain Gavras, will rock French cinema within the next five years.

Stephen Sackur is an ass.  It seems that no one can have a real civilized debate with Dawkins and it just makes them look like they’re out for blood because someone is challenging their faith.  Good journalism and interviews are not about getting personal or salivating like bellicose bloodhounds.  Just spend a few hours watching Dawkins talk about Atheism and “faith-heads”.  I love that word.

Helene Bertha Amalie “Leni” Riefenstahl (August 22, 1902 – September 8, 2003) was a German film director, dancer and actress widely noted for her aesthetics and innovations as a filmmaker. Her most famous film was Triumph des Willens (Triumph of the Will), a propaganda film made at the 1934 Nuremberg congress of the Nazi Party. Riefenstahl’s prominence in the Third Reich along with her personal friendships with Adolf Hitler and Joseph Goebbels thwarted her film career following Germany’s defeat in World War II, after which she was arrested but never convicted of war crimes.^[1]

The propaganda value of her films made during the 1930s repels most commentators but many film histories cite the aesthetics as outstanding.^[2][3][4] After her death the Associated Press described Riefenstahl as an “acclaimed pioneer of film and photographic techniques.”^[5] Der Tagesspiegel newspaper in Berlin noted, “Leni Riefenstahl conquered new ground in the cinema.”^[6] The BBC said her documentaries “were hailed as groundbreaking film-making, pioneering techniques involving cranes, tracking rails, and many cameras working at the same time.”^[7] Reviewer Gary Morris called Riefenstahl “an artist of unparalleled gifts, a woman in an industry dominated by men, one of the great formalists of the cinema on a par with Eisenstein or Welles.”^[8] Riefenstahl later published her still photography of the Nuba tribes in Africa and made films of marine life.

She was one of the first film makers to use tracking shots in a documentary, placing a camera on rails to follow the athletes’ movement. Riefenstahl’s work on Olympia has been cited as a major influence in modern sports photography.^[15]

In his book The Story of Film film scholar Mark Cousins claims, “Next to Orson Welles and Alfred Hitchcock, Leni Riefenstahl was the most technically talented Western film maker of her era.”

From Wikipedia

I love this piece because there’s a story in there.  I could construct a story about it but it won’t matter ’cause it’s story is already written into the painting

More?

A teen accused of plotting to blow up his high school told police that he wanted to die, go to heaven and kill Jesus, federal authorities said Tuesday.

Authorities also seized a computer that shows he searched Web sites for making bombs, a shotgun, carbon dioxide canisters, “hundreds and hundreds” of matchsticks, and more cassette tapes that they have not yet heard, Townsend said.

Let him kill himself, don’t let him take an entire school with him. We don’t need another sperm bomb running around.

CNN

You’re not entitled to your opinion if you’re wrong, fucko.

This guy is probably a convicted pedo in about 30 countries but he has some amazing artwork.

Trevor Brown

(I’m posting tame ones by the way so stroll in with caution; my favorite piece is ‘penis-head’!)

What if Nazis went on strike during the Holocaust for higher wages?  Imagine how different Germany and WW2 would’ve been.

Remember this? It’s fiction but the message is true.

Well a coral reef that was repeatedly nuked fifty years ago has finally regrown and it is completely healthy, save for the radioactive coconuts.

This world amazes me sometimes.

Link

COOL HUNTERS’ MORNING

“Detective Leo Goslin.”

The officer shook my hand, leaned in close enough for me to tell you his breath smelled like a bull’s ass. He looked at Killie with a sly smile and “With or Without You” playing in his ears.

“She’s your assistant?” The officer asked, like a dumb kid throbbing with a hard-on. I see it all the time, everywhere I go.

“No, she’s my partner,” I said.

“Is she single?” The officer asked.

I looked at Killie, readying to stamp her high heel into his kneecap. “We don’t start moving, I’ll cook your feces in the microwave and pour ‘em into your brain,” Killie said.

“She will. It’s actually surprising when she doesn’t do it.”

The officer nodded, “Don’t doubt it. She’s tall, y’know.”

“I’m standing right bloody here. Outta my way, turd.” Killie swatted him off and padded into the Sheriff’s Department.

“Six feet, six inches,” I uttered.

Killie stopped, didn’t turn around, but said, “People are usually in awe of my pissing distance, officer. Just somethin’ to keep in mind.”

We stood in the lobby of the Department, the Sheriff’s body leaned back in his chair, his mouth and eyes agape. Thick layer of saliva crusted over his mouth. To call him a big man wouldn’t just be an understatement, it’d be an insult. This was a man who was proud to be fat, he rocked that seventh plate of meat loaf.

“Heart attack?” I asked.

“If it was just a heart attack you wouldn’t be here,” the officer remarked.

Killie peered into his eyes, they were dilated. “Did he have any neurological disorders? Did he complain about anything?”

The officer scoffed, “Yeah, talked quite a bit ‘bout food. Look, I’m not his fucking doctor, okay?”

“Shut up,” Killed ordered. He did without a moment’s hesitation. “Any strange behavior in the office, anything to garner a few enemies — besides being the County Sheriff?”

“Oh, yeah. Last few years he’s been running a sex-slave operation from his office.”

Killie and I looked at each other and turned our gaze to the officer. “And you didn’t think this was relevant?” I asked.

“Leo, c’mon. Not exactly something you want to get out. He has a wife and three kids.”

I took a seat far from the Sheriff’s fat body. “What happened to the sex-slaves?”

“Escaped. They grabbed their chance sometime yesterday. I was off, came in this morning, and saw the Fat Man.”

Killie stared at the Fat Man. Leaning against the wall, somersaulting and twisting ideas, scenarios, everything she could get.

“Was the computer on when you got in?” Killie asked. I walked over.

“Yeah. I turned it off,” the officer said.

“I heard about these hacker who attacked epilepsy patients through their computer.” Killie continued, “They use bright, strobing animations to trigger migraines and even seizures.”

The officer scratched his head, “I dunno. If he had a seizure he still would’ve been able to swipe the computer or –”

“Not unless the epileptic seizure activated the heart attack,” I cut in.

Bingo. We walked out of the Department but Killie stopped for a moment with the officer.

“If you have dare to masturbate about me I’ll kill you in your dreams, fucker.”

Good morning, world. I’m Leo Goslin. Say hello to my partner, Killie. She pisses on people to death.

New group of characters, thought it’d be nice to take a break from the sci-fi stuff. Wanted to flesh them out in here ’cause I have a much longer story for them to be a part of. Thanks for reading, leave comments, or I’ll kill you in your dreams.

© 2008 Chris M Ferguson

And this is what I found: “Angel hunting down a demon and spilling blood on himself (Much like in “I Will Remember You”) Only this blood makes him female.”

Oh, Internets, how you never fail to… fail (?) me.  It’s close to four in the morning.  And my eyes hurt.  I don’t need elementary fan porn for Buffy and/or Angel.  I need the real stuff, baby!  HaHAHAHAhahahahaHAHAHAHAhahaahAHAHahahaHAHAHAHAHAhahahahaHAHAAHA –

Whoops!  My head just happened to fall on the “H” and “A” keys — and I guess the “caps lock” key too.  Crazy, right?

Link

Sing me to sleep…

Pictures no workie. Sad face.

They look so happy. More at Nazi Link (click on “propaganda posters” on the left)

One of the best bands you’ve never heard.  Rifles In Recess sadly broke up after recording one album.  What’re you gonna do, right?  Check ‘em out at Last FM and MySpace. Few of the members are possibly starting up new bands, not too sure, but take a listen.

“Please don’t pull this dagger from my back, I want the whole world to have a place to hang their hats and watch the shadows wilt.” — Rifles At Recess

Charge to graduates
Delivered by Bradley Whitford
May 15, 2004
Kohl Center

What’s up, Mad City?!

It’s great to be back in my hometown. On behalf of the acting president of the United States, I want to congratulate you all on your tremendous achievement.

A commencement address is what we call in show business a tough gig. You’ve got a huge room, you’ve got a big, distracted crowd that thinks they know everything about everything - and probably stayed out a little too late last night celebrating. I heard you at the hotel, by the way. And you’ve got a bunch of family members of various ages who you have to worry about offending if you happen to get a little too honest.

Somebody once said it’s like being the body at a wake. They stick you in the middle of the room, but deep down they really don’t want to hear a lot out of you.

Keep reading →

The world’s spinning too fast. I take speed so I can keep up. Live on sugar to keep pumping. Afraid to miss a thing. I work out for two hours a day every day. Go to work with a steel bat clipped at my waist. I’ve lived a bad life so others won’t have to. I live as a cartoon character — I am known as Bruise Nasty. I am not real. I am aggression, anger, lust, sex, sexuality, bisexuality –

Every era needs a new mythology. I’ve slipped into a Fiction Suit. People wear me on their clothing, spray paint my name on walls around the city, and bands sing about me.

The world will turn black and I will be the first flower to bloom from the mud. When the world ends I won’t die because I didn’t exist.

Ideas are grenades. Pull the pin.

© 2008 Chris M Ferguson

The girl on the right looks like my ex-girlfriend

It could possibly be her, possibly not.  Note to her: If you’re trolling around the site, let me know if it’s you so I can make fun of you for having a self-portrait drawn in chalk.  Despicable.

Writing while listening to Sisters of Mercy.  Oh yes.  New Micro Fiction coming this week as Audio Persona is about to end with a few more chapters left.  It’ll be back with a vengeance, like a mean roundhouse kick from Steven Segal.

Listened to little Charlie Manson’s album, One Mind, which is actually pretty good.  Very sparse, just Charlie playing his acoustic guitar while crooning into the mic.

Back to the playground, My Spicy Chicken Peeps!