Hurlbutt Holiday Cheer, 1990

Back in 1990, the Hurlbutts posed for a family photo. N. Ron shied away from the camera and slid into the shadows, meanwhile the elder child Damien pranked his brother Robbie. Matriarch Pearl Jo “PJ” stared off into the camera, and of course complained to the studio manager about the prints when she got them. They put the fun in DysFUNction.

MoronicArts Classics: Damien Goes Postal

“It’s hotter than a boiled owl!” Bourbonnais cinema clerk, neckbeard and communal narcissist Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt thinks aloud, as he heads down the stairs to get his mail. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. I got my postcards off CBay. I bought over 200 from this guy, one at a time. What a great seller! I can’t wait to impress my friends with these! All these favors I do, oh boy, oh boy, they will get a SURPRISE!”

A lady across the way gives Damien the side eye.

Damien logs onto his personal computer, setting atop a wooden folding table. He tries to log onto his alternate Fakebook account, purposely created to stalk his ex-wife Lori and her friends, who divorced him because he abused her.

“Oh man, I cannot get on. What is this about getting reported again for violating the terms of service? I did nothing wrong. I am just a nice guy who has no rights. What about us men?” Damien types into the box in response to Fakebook’s “How did we do?” questionnare.

A few minutes pass. “Ding!”

Damien awakes from a deep sleep, all his loud snoring ceases.

Damien jumps up to log onto his computer.

“Hehhhhhhhh…” Damien sighs.

“We have permanently disabled this account due to multiple third-party complaints. Do not attempt to log in again.

— The Fakebook Team.”

“Now this account is crumped. I know! I will just make a new one! That will show them. Hmpf.”

Damien clears his browser’s history, cookies, cache and then reboots his machine. He reloads Fakebook and tries to create a new account under a diffent name so he can continue to harass his ex-wife, because he clearly has nothing better to do with his time.

“We are sorry, Damien. Maybe you should go out sometime and get a life. Do something productive. Get off the internet. We are closing both your accounts due to impersonation.

— The Fakebook Team”

“Those damnedable Fakebook people! They really put poop in my soup! Both my accounts are clunked over! I wish I could zogg over there and give that clump of people a piece of my mind!”

Damien goes into the bathroom, takes a huge crap, does not wipe and heads straight for the shower. He does not believe in wiping. After he gets out, he runs out the bathroom door, leaving a lake of water on the floor in his wake to get a towel.

As Damien dries himself, he shakes off like a dog, getting water all over the living room carpet. He gets an idea.

Damien dries his hair and then his manhood with the blowdryer.

Damien gets out his box of 200 postcards and sits down, looking a lot like Homer Simpson in his tighty-whities. He scrawls away into the night.

Weeks go by and Damien wonders why he has not heard back. Damien turns on the television, as he has not been able to log onto Fakebook:

“Breaking news: Alabama lawmakers stalked by a mysterious Bourbonnais man. Over 200 postcards containing crude drawings were sent to Alabama politicians opposed to women’s reproductive rights. According to reports, some of the content contained references to so-called ‘MRAs’ or ‘Men’s Rights Activists’, a reactionary group known for their anti-feminist views. Some of the content could not be shown on TV. We will print his address for our viewers’ protection. Back to you.”

Damien gasps, gulping down six antacids to purposely constipate himself because he does not like pooping around people. He craps his pants anyway.

Artist’s Corner: Behind the Moroniverse – Devolution of Sybil

Sybil is busy calling up people and bothering them right now, so this is Jen here filling in.

I created Sybil in response to the constant harassment from the moronic debt collectors who could not care less about my situation, and started writing to help cope with my extreme physical and emotional pain.

MoronicArts Classics: Meet the Hurlbutts.

Meet Kankakee bill-collector Sybil Kibble’s favorite neighbor and her wacky sons, The Hurlbutts.

On the right is Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt of Bourbonnais, IL. He is the 46 year old neckbeard son of Pearl Hurlbutt.

Communal narcissist Damien is divorced because he verbally abused his ex-wife Lori, to whom he only refers as “Grimace”. A shopping addict and hoarder, he would rather sleep on the floor and on top of his boxes than furniture, because he spends all his wages on impressing co-workers and single ladies when not buying useless crap he does not need. He mops up the lake he creates every time he showers with his moldy socks. Prone to outbursts and wearing socks with his $125.00 sandals, Damien thinks he is a hit with the ladies…yeah, no.

Damien works as a clerk at the local multiplex’s ticket counter. He offers free movie tickets to local and online young ladies in his feeble attempts to woo them. He snores incredibly loud due to his innattention to his diagnosed sleep apnea. He blocks his sleep doctor’s telephone calls on his flip phone so he can avoid dealing with it.

He loves to sleep and wishes he could sleep more, however he spends too much time lying awake thinking up new ways to emotionally swindle people. Damien was last seen outside Area 51.

In the middle stands Kankakee’s very own Pearl Josephine “PJ” Hurlbutt. She wears the same muu-muu inside and outside the house, every day of the week. She even had worn it into her call center job at CRASS, before she retired. Sybil Kibble thinks PJ is “just swell” and considers PJ her best friend.

On the left you see Robbie Roy Gary Hurlbutt of Kankakee, IL His mother PJ likes to brag about that time in Gary, Indiana when Robbie was conceived.

He is the 43 year old son of Pearl Hurlbutt and brother to Damien.

Robbie is a ladies’ man, Elvis-obsessed and is as big a hoarder as his brother Damien. He has a room in his apartment just for his record collection. He is 42 and never married; covert narcissist Robbie would rather “make love to the audience” at the Kankakee County karaoke bars because the women with whom he has been in relationships eventually have figured out his con game. When he is not committing love-fraud, petty criminal Robbie pals around sociopath Pat Splatt cooking up ways to rip off innocent people for fun and profit; ideas inspired by his father N. Ron Hurlbutt.

He is thoroughly convinced he is the reincarnation of Elvis and has an intense fear of being locked in a bathroom.

She Walked Into a Bar…(A MoronicArts Classic)

From 2020

Linda walked into a Kankakee bar to get a drink, not knowing all the single men would take notice. Who will she choose?

Robbie, PJ and Damien Hurlbutt

Pharmacy clerk, vulnerable narcissist and Elvis impersonator Robbie Hurlbutt?

Cinema clerk, neckbeard and communal narc-a-doodle Damien Hurlbutt?

Wally Green Brainless-storms

Wacky inventor, drugstore owner and sadist Wally Green? 

Dale thinks he is worth your time.

CRASS Bill collector, and desperate hillbilly Dale Davis?

So many bottom-feeders, so little time.

“Dating is like shooting a bunch of arrows and missing the target every time.”

– Linda Stay