Notice to the NSA! – LOL



Dear guardians of the Pizza,

In order to facilitate your surveillance, I want to inform you that I shall shortly being heading over to Pedro’s Chili Place on 9th Street  for dinner, where I intend to pay cash. This communiqué is so as not to thwart your tracking of my movements. Should you observe a loud noise later on, let me assure you that this will merely be a result of my bowel movements and will not in any way pose a threat to National Security, although gas masks might be in order should you wish to pay a visit in person.

(Sin-)cerely yours,

Ralphie A Burcke.


It’s MINE!!!

Paper Heroes Location 2

Paper Heroes Location 2 (Photo credit: roadkillbuddha)

Just when you thought you’d already seen the summum of sarcasm, you had to stumble onto this bit of crap, didn’t you! You poor misguided sceptical sod, you thought you’d read or heard the lot, well… didn’t you? Forget about it! Let me put you out of your delusional misery. Or not. Actually, I think you should move your petty attention span somewhere else, because this will not be pretty! I’m warning you. Piss off, right now.(notice the absence of an exclamation mark behind this succinct piece of advice). Are you still here? Do you insist on being mortified? Alright then,here we bloody well go. –> here or here.

I, Ralphie A Burcke, do by this piece of paper(transcribing now) declare that I was walking down a certain derelict avenue, when I happened to stumble onto (the now late) gentleman, whose name shall be left out of this epistle for judicial purposes, who had in his possession a loaf of bread. Being hungry, I said that I would like some, thank him very much, but the arsehole disagreed. (Again, notice the absence of an exclamation mark(I’m trying to restrain myself)). When I inquired why he would not part with at least part of this loaf of bread, he told me, and was rather adamant about it, that he had a piece of paper which proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this loaf was his. He proceeded to show me the receipt of a supermarket, which one shall remain a mystery to you. I asked, rather sensibly I thought, whether the tree had objected, to which he tuttutted me and asked in an exasperated tone if I knew of any trees that spoke English. Nope!However, yours truly was not born yesterday, nor the day before. Actually quite a large number of yesterdays ago and I happened to have on me a small notebook and a pen. With thwarting this dastardly loafhugger’s plans aforethought, I wrote on a piece of paper:” Half of this loaf of bread ->(thataone) is indisputably , unequivocably and irrevocably the source of sustenance of Ralphie A Burcke, period.”(notice the period!) And I signed it, just for good measure. This stumped him!(notice exclamation mark)

Next this unbeliever took out his gun and declared his intention of terminating my loaf-less existence, but the cretin had neglected to take into account the presence of mind of the son of Misses Burcke! I asked if I could see a piece of paper, which stated indubitably that said gun was in actuality his. He turned red and admitted that he had acquired it from some shady fellow. To cut a long story short, I confiscated the gun and shot the bastard with it, Not because I am, paper-wise, in the habit of shooting people with their own(sic) guns, but because the idiot was starting to annoy me (and I was slightly pekish). Anyways, I ended up with a loaf of bread and a gun. I did write a little note, in my little notebook, in which I gave the tosser permission to pass on to whichever dimension would welcome his sorry arse. I pinned the note to his forehead. Are you dimwits with me so far? If you really insist on being tormented some more, so be it.

I was shuffling and munching along, when I met my second victim. Strange how these soon-to-be daisy-pusher-uppers seem to cross my path. It must be karma, theirs or mine. A mentally deficient gentleman invited me into his home. I use the personal pronoun ‘his’ loosely here, very loosely indeed, I’m sure you understand! When I asked what on earth made him think that this particular abode was his, he showed me a piece of paper and true enough, it stated that it was his, which I let pass for that instant, because pieces of paper and myself are no strangers, remember? I decided to hear what the fool had to say for himself. He confided in me that his ancestors had come with a piece of paper, which stated that this continent of America was in actuality theirs. When the natives objected, they shot the lot, minus a couple whom they corralled in a penitentiary. I asked, why on earth did these fools not recognise the validity of your piece of paper? He told me they were utterly stupid and had the ludicrous notion that the earth should be shared by all living things. Well… good riddance to this lot!

The television was on at that time and some black dude came on, saying that he had loads and loads of pieces of paper, which stated that he was the boss and that everybody should do as he said. Nuff said(paper included). Whereupon the guy who had invited me in told me that the one on TV’s grandpappie used to be his. I asked how that worked. He called me an idiot and said that he had heaps of paper to prove it. I stood corrected and looked appropriately abashed. Somehow the black lads had convinced themselves that they were not his but themselves. And all this without a piece of paper, the unmitigating nerve of these people! They had a war but this guys forebears lost, because the other came up with an even BIGGER piece of paper. Fucking fornication, sodomy and gomorrizing all put together. What is this world coming to?

As he was starting to bore me, I proceeded to write a note stating that the house I was in was mine, but this moron objected aswell and took out his gun, for which he did have a piece of paper. There is however more than one way to skin a cat! I asked If I could see the receipt for the bullets and he could not find it. More the fool he, I shot him. When the Missus came home and I shouted:”Honey, I’m home!” she was a mite surprised and so were the kids, but when I showed them the piece of paper all became abundantly clear. I did not really want nor need a family though, what with my new-found wealth. I divorced the lot of them and exchanged everything for a yacht. It was there that I met Mister Milt Bromley or some such name, who claimed to have oodles of pieces of paper with the face of some dead guy on them, green ones. I was not impressed. If he had had a piece of paper with the face of my dear departed Gran or somebody else who was near to my heart, I would have admired him immensely and possibly even have handed over the yacht for it, but for a to me unknown dead geezer!!?? Was he joking?

He did give a warning which I took to heart, namely that with my new yacht, people might become jealous and try to take it away from me with lots of guns. Something had to be done and quickly. I had a mega-brilliant idea! Does not the Peoples’ Republic of China have billions of people with lots and lots of guns? For sure they do! I wrote on a piece of paper that from then on the PRC was MINE, with a Ni hao and a Shishi thrown in for good measure. I asked Mister Misty Romley to witness it and now I am not only the uncle but the undisputed leader of that immense country. Ni hao, you may call me Emperor Ralphie! Shishi and get on with protecting my arse.(and my yacht!) Be warned, all and sundry, if you want to mess with me, I’ll set my yellow fellows on you! They can’t really object, now can they, for do they speak English? Even if they do, bugger them. Do as your leader tells you or else(remember Mao?)

I’d always wanted to score a home run and I decided to go for the whole shebang. First I dug a small hole in the ground with my spoon, for I did not have a little shovel. After that I wrote a little note, saying to old Gaia that although she’d had a good run of it, I would from that moment take charge of the whole planet and everything on it. She protested with some earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and some tsunamis, but I was not impressed, for I had buried the not inside her and even she had to acquiesce to my authority. I am now Leader of the World and all shall bow to me, by the power vested in me by that piece of paper. All hail Ralphie! Anyone who disagrees, remember my yellow fellows!!! It’s ALL mine…

When Will My Ship Come In?

Titanic at the docks of Southampton.

Titanic at the docks of Southampton. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’ve been spending a lot of time at the harbor, waiting for my ship to come in. As yet, it hasn’t. I ask anyone I see, if they’ve seen or heard anything of Titanic, but they just give me this funny look. I wonder why?

Some Aggressive Marketing Seems to be in Order!

Lowest Common Denominator

Lowest Common Denominator (Photo credit: Ombligotron)

Would you please allow me to insert a note of sarcasm into this blog? If not, then please join the long queue of people who can kiss my hairy arse! i am going to grab you all(except for my fans, of course!) by the scruff of the neck and have you take a long hard look at the glorification of utter drivel, which abounds on the web and elsewhere.

Miss Floozy has just posted an update on the net about the fact that she has just finished an ice cream and how yummy it was! After which three thousand seven hundred and eighty-six individuals shared this nugget with their so-called friends. Is not this world a much better place, now that we have been appraised of this valuable titbit?

All hail to the Book of bland faces and the stars of Twitdom for elevating the copy function to a high art(yes,yes, myself included!) Most readers wouldn’t recognise an original line, if it came up and bit their collective noses off these days, much less come up with one! How fortunate that many can now proudly state that they have three million friends on one of these platforms, whom they have over for coffee and cake every other day, I’ll bet…

I would like to congratulate at the same time the masses that spend billions of hard-earned currency on tabloids. I’m sure Mister Murdoch will come to thank each and every one of you for contributing to his already formidable wealth. How anyone in their right mind could pay money to read this mountain of excremental irrelevancies is beyond me.

Thank you all for bringing down the level of journalistic reporting to kindergarten reading, to use a euphemism. How low must the acceptance standard for the lowest common denominator sink, before you all start to puke for the pure nauseating stench of it, I ask you?

And then to think that several authors, myself included, have been manually putting their bollocks through a meat-grinder in order to bring you some humor of more than excellent standard on the comedy E-magazine Need I say more…? Get your arses over there and read and subscribe! Don’t make me come and tell you again!

Now, how was that for a rant? Are you STILL here? Get over there!!!