Dear WTF:

I don’t like people. I have a secret desire to carry around a toy gun just to whip out and scare them off. What do you think?

Annoyed

Dear annoyed,

Excellent idea. Be sure and get one that looks as realistic as possible. Find a crowded public place and wave it about in an “I’m crazy”, but serious manner. After the crowd disperses and SWAT arrives, we can be assured of at least one less fucktard roaming the earth.

Or, you could take the sensible route and emulate me. Embrace your inner unpleasant disposition. Tell everyone what you really think and they don’t want to hear. “Yes, you’re extremely boring and no one thinks you’re funny. Yes, you look like shit today, and yesterday too. Yes, I saw that you called and I’d like you to stop. Yes, your boyfriend is a total dick, but he compliments your total bitch.”

Once you get started it’s so easy to see the hideousness all around you. And once you start sharing your thoughts, it’s so easy to get people to go away. The silence that follows can only be described as complete bliss. And the relief from no longer having to pretend you care, complete ecstasy.

Now how do I get rid of you?

JT

Want to shoot your mouth off at JT? Let her know how you REALLY feel at WTFWJTD@gmail.com.

Said Sargent Louis Cipher of the West Seattle Police Department, “The victim’s identity is not being released at this time, pending notification of next of kin, but it seems Ted Bjornsen was killed during a sexual encounter. These gerbils you see running around my feet are not, repeat NOT, a rodent issue with the High Point Ramada. These varmint are evidence and I’d appreciate if you didn’t step on any of them.”

The unidentified victim has been identified as an active member of the fetishist gruop, The HabiTrailRiders. Whether this had anything to do with the aforementioned gerbils or the fact that the victim, and his anus, were attending a function hosted by the hotel is still under investigation.

Bjornsen, the unidentified victim, was attending the Irritable Bowel Syndrome Convention at the WSCFCTS Hall (West Seattle Center For Conventions and Trade Shows) and staying at the Ramada, along with several hundred other guests.

Fellow Shit-Issue-ist, Monica Duce, had this to say: “This weekend was supposed to be about love, and companionship, and fiber. If Ted, er…. the victim, did what the policemen say he did, and got killed doing it, well… I…. I think I need a bran muffin.”

Forensic teams found a mixture of blood, semen, and gravy in unusual quantities on the walls, as noted in the forensic black light photo seen above.

Said Sgt. Cipher, “From the wounds the victim sustained, that much blood is a given. The semen, okay, maybe he ate a shitpile of oysters at the convention. But the gravy? That’s just not within the realm of normal behavior and goes beyond forensic precedent. This guy got gutted by a guy or gal gaga for gravy.”

West Seattle Police Department detectives have isolated their search to local West Seattle restaurants that serve a mean chicken fried steak.

Pete@westseattlefunblog.com

Dear WTF:

Due to the tragic Killer Whale trainer death, I am literally terrified of all fish now. I find myself afraid of feeding my goldfish for fear that they will jump out and rip my face off. What should I do?

Missy

Listen Missy,

Don’t be ridiculous. It was a fucking KILLER whale for christ’s sake. When someone gets smooshed by a semi-truck are you suddenly afraid of Hotwheels? Maybe if you had said clown fish I could at least understand the nightmares and screaming. Now I’m just inclined to think you’re being an idiot. Goldfish. Like I have time for this.

Find a foster home for those poor fish immediately. And give me back my hamster before you go camping. All I need is for you to see a bear shit in the woods. In fact, if this is the way you’re going to get over every little horrifying death, you have no business being a grief counselor in the first place. Do me a favor. Go back inside. Pull the covers over your head, and stop all communication with the outside world. And by world, I mean me.

JT

JT is searching for recipes. Not the seafood variety, but Donner Party recipes. Got a good sauce that compliments Braised Idiot? Send it to WTFWJTD@gmail.com. Let’s just call it Natural Selection at its most delicious.

Luigi Linguini once wrote, “If you’re going to cross the bridge, then really cross the bridge.”

Funblogger Pete Seazle (no relation to this reporter) was enlisted for the mission. Long story short, its been deemed “an utter failure” by the Blogfathers with no future plans to resurrect the program.

“In light of the success and stagnant growth of the Austin Chapter, Funblog Brass decided that Boston could be fertile ground to sow new seeds, based strictly on the fact that the names of the two cities rhyme,” said Seazle. “Dukakis and Bentsen tried it in ‘88 under the Boston-Austin banner. It failed. We kinda forgot about that.”

Recruiting was attempted in areas that included Copley Square, the convention center and theater districts, the area formerly known as “The Combat Zone”, and the campus of MIT.  Reactions varied, but only in the level of disinterest.

Said Sean McGillicutty, approached at the infamous Black Rose Tavern, “Are yoo fuckin’ lookin’ at me, yoo fuckin’ douchebag? Yoo some kinda fuckin’ fag or what? Fuckin’ wise guy.”

With Seazle’s heterosexuality reiterated, re-reiterated, and subsequently somewhat comprehended, McGillicutty went on to say, “Yoo’re still a fuckin’ tool. Now, piss off wit’yah before I dump this here fuckin’ chowdah on ya fuckin’ head, ya fuckin’ cahck.”

Efforts to garner support outside the Westin Copley under the smoking heater lamp were equally futile. “I flew in from Wiscaaaahnsin for the Seafood Show, yah know? I don’t know nuthin’ bout yah little bloggidy-boopity-doo, kay? Now get on wit’ yahself and let me finish cuttin’ my butt in peace, kay” said Linda Fernpepper of Madison, WI.

It should be noted that Fernpepper was rather portly, had feathered hair, and sported some unusually wide acid-washed jeans. She also reeked of fried shrimp.

Next up: MIT!

Prakash Krishnaraj is a student from India. Seazle caught up with him at the Rotch / Rotch Visual Collections Libray on campus.

“You’re not funny. You’re not smart.  You live 3048.67 miles away and have no relevance to what we do here,” said Krishnaraj. “You talk too loudly in a library and you reek of beer. Now go away.”

Plans for an exploratory mission to Mumbai and basically anywhere else have also been scrapped. Recruitment efforts have been refocused to locations WEST of the bridge.

Pete@westseattlefunblog.com

Secret Funblog Military Consultant

WEST SEATTLE, Washington, March 15, 2010 (WSFB)

Hey, Al-Qaeda bozos,

You douchenozzles have gone too far this time. By kidnapping Luigi Linguini, you have violated all that is sacred within our world, in general, and all that defines funmanship, to be specific. Your atrocities against our leader are way out of line and your actions will not go unrequited.

The Funblog is not a religion and, quite frankly, if it were, our higher power would be Booze. Our Trinity: satire, good times, and the F-bomb; and we would bow down wherever we happened to be, face West, and hail The Junction at 4:20 everyday.

You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourselves into, you twat waffles. We’re certain you’re entirely unaware that Luigi is made 100% of pork. That won’t sit well with your higher power, now will it? You become more and more unclean with each blow you deliver to his glorious funbody, yes?

He also personally knows at least 72 Virginians, so your glory in death will certainly be mitigated by our heavenly connections. In the words of Thomas Jefferson, “You will have no Virginians. Fer shizzle, muzzizles.”

But words alone will not suffice under the circumstances you’ve created. There will be no amicable resolution. Not now.

We are taking measures to counter-attack and will rain down on you with great fury. We have obtained the services of an elite ex-military force led by one of your greatest opponents. At this time, we will not divulge the identity of this person, but the attached photo might give you an idea. Please understand, this is your own doing, AND undoing.

Think long and hard about what you fear most, for that is what is coming.

Pete@westseattlefunblog.com

With our new line of “Proud to be Irish” t-shirts, you’ll be the envy of everyone at Fado or Kjell’s. Order today as quantities are limited.

Pete@westseattlefunblog.com

Dear WTF,

Is it wrong to think you are falling for your advice columnist? She is abusive and has none of life’s answers, but doesn’t give a shit. What is love anyway? I thought it was lust with an emotional attachment. Am I wrong? Do I need therapy?

Help me, please.

Dear Help,

Here’s what I tell clients when this happens to me: I charge in advance, vodka is on the counter, pull-out couch is over there. If you want someone to give a shit, get a puppy.

And what is this unnatural obsession with love? I understand it in relation to one’s own children. Something has to keep us from killing them. But just for the hell of it? Turns us into nothing but pathetic sociopaths. Jealous, needy, possessive. Who needs that’s shit outside of  a controlled environment with a safe word?

With regards to friends and relationships, only one thing matters, do I like you? And that would be an unequivocal no! So get the fuck away from me until our next appointment.

JT

Don’t bother emailing JT at WTFWJTD@gmail.com. She just doesn’t care. She’s only in it for the vodka and prescription meds.

Citing biological research into systems that become overloaded with one species, Grubersteinenmen asserts that it is more of the ecosystem attempting to balance itself than any real error of the car company. “I started looking into the crash data and was stuck by how elitest the cars were that were crashing, and I started thinking how I couldn’t throw a bag of Mickey D’s out the window without hitting a Liberal these days. From there it was simply a case of fitting the data to my assumption.”

“As most polls show, we are a right-of-center nation,” writes blogger Black River Wolf from the bastion of common sense, Red State.

“There are too many liberals in the world. They are in overwhelming numbers. Their sickness eats away at the fabric of the universe every day. They infest every area of government, media and all elements of the public sector. There is no escape from the liberal plague, ” opines Canadian Lib_Exposer on the internet behemoth youthink.

“As you can see,” Grubersteinenmen continues, “the country is overrun with a plague of liberals, and any time you get a plague you will see environmental limiting factors kicking in. So the fact that these cars are crashing and whatnot indicates not shoddy workmanship, poor design and unresponsive corporate execs totally asleep at the switch, but the environment itself acting to rebalance itself.”

“I have been saying it since the first reports came out. The only way to prevent these horrific crashes is to lower the number of liberals,” says social scientist Aden Mitler. “We have a moral imperative to get the liberals together in a camp-like setting and humanely but firmly reduce their numbers. Only then will we see a stop to these totally avoidable car crashes.”

Ohio Senator John Boner Boehner insists that there is a tie-in between this issue and the contentious health care debate. “We’ve known all along that the only way to deal with these car crashes is to mitigate the number of liberals. That is why we oppose getting health care to the poor, because we all know that poor people (especially the dark ones) are liberal, and therefore the more who do not receive health care and die, the safer our highways and roads will be.”

“Who will think of the poor corporations? ” asked Sarah Palin, the One Woman Think Tank , “No one seem to have though about the feelings of the Toyotas, the Exxons, the Haliburtons…We need to let the Free Market work without a government takeover of our ecosytems balancing proper. Also.”

Who will think of the corporations? Indeed.

1. Lock your shit.  I know what you might be thinking; why would anyone want to possibly steal your Sade CD collection or your stinky gym bag, right?  Wrong. I know this one guy that lives under the West Seattle Bridge who spends his whole day looking for Sade CD’s and stinky gym bags.  If you leave your car unlocked you might as well walk up to a thief (who you can identify by their striped shirt and mask) and hand him or her your car keys.  Respect the lock.

2. If you buy the 2010 Acura TL with the six speed and the 19″ rims don’t leave your new fancy ride in front of the corner market on Delridge for any extended amount of time, especially in the middle of the night.  And if you do leave your ride there then don’t leave the keys in the ignition.  And if you do leave your car there with the keys in the ignition then don’t leave gold or large cash laying on the dash.  And if you do leave your car there with the keys in the ignition and gold and cash on the dash then don’t go tell everyone in the market that you just bought a 2010 TL and that it’s sitting outside running with gold and cash on the dash.  And if you do leave your car there with the keys in the ignition and gold and cash on the dash and you did tell everyone in the market the situation then you better have a god damn black mamba in there because your shit is about to get broken into and jacked.

3. Write a letter to your would be prowler and place it in the window.  Say on it “Stop Don’t Steal My Shit Thief!” and explain your reasoning.  Make sure you mention that there are no valuables whatsoever in the car, especially purses and wallets and crack.  Draw a picture of a police officer and sign it “Lieutenant Craig”.  Tell the prowler that they are wasting time and they should focus on the Benz around the corner with the laptop bag sitting in the back window.  Encourage them to move along, nothing to see here.

4. Put a West Seattle Funblog sticker on your car, because everyone respects the Fun.