Messages

Thanks, Cat!

So.... rhymthmic hips and flawless armpits aside, when exactly do the rights of the Bake Sale games relapse to their owners?

On the one year anniversary of Bake Sale II, my bemonocled pal.

...And my armpits are flawless; ripe for cloning.

It's why you were selected for the cloning program asked to join the bake sale team.

the rhythmic hips of the Ponch!

Oh! New tagline!

[brain!]

I also secrete a nice liquid starch which comes in handy when it's time to break out the ironing board.

The soap... it doesn't work on my brain!

Would you care for a palmful of my freshest liquid soap?

And did you remember to sign in blood? 

No! He used ketchup, the big wuss. If he had used blood, like the fine print stipulated, then I'd have his DNA on file and my lab would be filled with Baron clones along with my Tzachs clones, and Radiant clones, and all the rest. But he used ketchup and so my collection is incomplete! I swear! Does no one read the fine print anymore?

You know, P, now that it's been brought up....  I'm having a hard time remembering exactly what I "agreed" to.    Could we establish a concrete date so that there's no more confusion?  Thanks.

It was in the fine print, B. Lots of stuff hiding in the fine print. For example, you have yet to provide the required DNA sample that all bakers must submit to my cloning facility. These clones aren't going to make themselves, you know.

Sorry, Mr. Donkeymilk, but all the bakers agreed to keep their games locked in the vault for one year. But that time will just fly by, you'll see.

One does shudder to think what other fluids Ponch is capable of secreting out of his mammary glands....  He is truly a man of many exceptional talents.

Liquid paper, school paste, all sorts of things.

Now I have this unhealthy vision stuck in my head of you making a type-o, rubbing it on your nipple, and then carrying on as if nothing untoward had just transpired.  Great.

I also secrete a nice liquid starch which comes in handy when it's time to break out the ironing board.

One does shudder to think what other fluids Ponch is capable of secreting out of his mammary glands....  He is truly a man of many exceptional talents.

Liquid paper, school paste, all sorts of things.

And I played so many games of Lemmings on the old Amiga. Ahh. The memories!

Gotta be honest, Baron. That is so awesome,  I may have just squirted a little milk on the monitor. 

Me too! For one brief moment, my hopes soared! But then they were dashed! DASHED!

Like a Texan on the highway side.  Wait, is this the simile writing competition?

True, sadly. That motorcycle is in a million pieces now. But my broken bones have healed. But not my heart... because GrundlBen won't record a new CupCast... And Baron won't stop reopening old wounds.

ZUT ALORS!!

and there I though yay, new episode.

Me too! For one brief moment, my hopes soared! But then they were dashed! DASHED!

That is one classy ride! And I am of French descent, so I can totally see myself in that car!

[Chocodiles]

Personally, I never cared much for Twinkies. But as a child, I LOVED their chocolate coated cousins, the Chocodiles.

Putting it in perspective, your problems are much more real than mine, so forget everything I said!

I spent the first few months of spring recovering from a bad motorcycle wreck. Those were my problems.

It sounds like your just a little blue, man. If your hobbies aren't working to distract you, then take up a new one. Or just get out of your everyday life for a while. Take a few days and get out of town for the weekend. That usually works for me. A day or two someplace else, in a new city, checked into a cheap motel under a fake name, moving a little heroin for the Mexican cartels and on the run from the law often is just the pick-me-up I need. Give it a try, dude.

Happy b-day, Technocrat! And a belated one to RickJ!

I LOVE the tuxedo cow. He looks like a Blues Brother!

Scantily clad female mounties driving motorbikes in ass-less chaps down the frozen, empty highways of post-apocalyptic Canada; demonic canine and sadistic avian antagonists frolicking about the Schmendersons' apartment; 1001 ways to win (and lose) beer; and a sure-fire roadmap to commercial AGS success: what's not to covet? 

This should have been in the promotional poster.

I like the way you think, sir!