MoronicArts Classics: Sucks to be Damien

Knock-knock.

Bourbonnais communal narc-a-doodle Damien Hurlbutt ignores the letter carrier. “Must be my Weekly Weewee Wonders; the mailman can tuck those away in the box,” Damien tells himself, as he trims his glowing orange neckbeard.

Damien dons his newest fedora, carefully selected from his newest box of identical hats ordered from an online retailer.

Damien logs onto M’Ladies by Mail Online one last time to check for replies to his daily messages to Ha, his long lost mail-order bride from Vietnam. He sings the empty-inbox blues.

Damien looks for his flip phone and cannot locate it. “Check your pocket, Farley!” Damien says out loud, Lord only knows why.

“Who the heck is Farley?” his downstairs neighbor asks as Damien locks up, jiggling the doorknob for a full five minutes.

“Nothing!” Damien exclaims to his neighbor, as if she cared.

Damien locates his phone and calls his vulnerable narcissist brother Robbie.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Robbie’s voice is heard.

“Elvis, I mean Robbie has left the building. Leave a message. BOOORT!”

“Heyy, man. This is your brother. I am leaving to go try and patch things up with Grimace, I mean Lori. Wish me luck, okay!” Damien flips his phone closed.

Damien hops onto 57 North to Chicago, where Lori lives. He had got her address by abusing his employer’s NexusLexus database program. He has an idea she will be home tonight, because he has been tracking her plans through a sock puppet account on Fakebook.

Damien parks in a nearby garage and walks up to Lori’s apartment, roses and balloons in hand. He knocks on her door.

Lori answers, as she has been expecting a pizza delivery. It is 5:30 PM.

“I want to start things all over with you from the beginning.” Damien tells a shocked, angry Lori.

“Damien? Get the freak outta here now, or I will call the police!” Lori screams sternly.

“I could doink you every day if you would let me!” Damien says with an evil grin and his usual blank eyes.

“Eeeew, you moron! Get out of here!”

Damien spots his mail-order bride Ha in Lori’s apartment. Ha introduces herself, “Damien is that you?” “Why you love her not me?”

“Come now?” Damien says, startled.

Damien collapses emotionally. He is found out. Damien leaves hoping to dodge the police, failing to accept responsibility since he thinks he can do no wrong..

“I am so glad I showed you his crazy letter,” Lori tells Ha.

“I am so glad we met in that support group online.” Ha confides in Lori.

Screaming is heard emanating from down the street. It cannot be made out. Moments later, sirens begin to wail.

“You dodged a bullet” Ha says.

“We both did.”

“What a moron” they both say, in unison.

“Jinx!”

“Oh he’s jinxed alright!” Lori says and they both giggle as they greet the pizza guy.

MoronicArts Classics: Wally Green And The Turd Machine

Wacky Kankakee inventor and pharmacy chain owner Wally Green is busy hosting his live infomercial advertising his newest invention, the Turd Machine: “Just turn the crank, and shoot the stank! But wait there’s more!”

Manteno pretend-do-gooder, port-o-dump princess and communal narcadoodle Bernadette Moran Cacca, interrupts his broadcast to deliver an important message…

Meet Priscilla “Pris” Dixon

Pris Dixon

Wife of Brandon Dixon – owner of Brandon’s Imbecile Machine – and mother to his kids; Pris is highly nosey, butts into strangers’ business out of pure ennui.

She needs a hobby.

Pris works as a Medical Office Assistant for her father-in-law Kankakee Ears, Nose, and Throat specialist Dr. Eddie Dixon, a store clerk at Archangel’s Craft Stores. She has a reputation for gaslighting patients and customers just to confuse them.

Police refuse to let her victims press charges, save for once, stating Pris “is just mentally ill.” Yes, antisocial personality disorder is a mental illness, one whose victims usually seek treatment.

“You’re crazy, the only one on the bus whoever starts problems!”
— Pris Dixon gaslighting her verbal and physical abuse targets

Pris proudly drives a green imbecile machine given to her by Brandon, branded with “You just got passed by a girl” decals.

Pris was raised by wealthy parents who gave her everything she wanted. Pris feels that, because she is a parent, she should cut in line at the cafes and burger joints. She dislikes the childfree by choice and gets her kicks by invalidating their feelings. Pris feels that only parents can make a valid point, and that life does not begin until you become a mother or father.

Pris needs a reality check.

She was arrested once in Chicago for randomly assaulting a disabled woman on a bus whom she did not know. Pris has been known to wind people up out of boredom and is not afraid of anything or anyone…or is she?

“You don’t need to emerge from nothing.”
— Fischerspooner

Birthday Greetings to Sybil Kibble!

Happy Birthday to Sybil Kibble! We hope your day is a real treat!