Legal Beagle

Legal Beagle’s my new attorney. AND he’s an actual Beagle. I swears.

I had to get a new one after my old attorney, Ira Lowenstein, skipped town on his own bail with his new secretary Macey.

Anyways, I had to find a new lawyer after the cops broke up my friendly neighborhood underground superhero fight club, and threatened to arrest me for unlawful somethingoranother. Whiles I was letting my fingers do the walking in the ol’ Yellow Pages, I came across his ad. It said something about digging though garbage and sniffing out the truth or something. It was his picture of him holding a gavel in his mouth that sold me. Soooo cute.

The whole cute thing is just an act though. He’s really super-duper smart, I mean like super genius smart, and is really really serious. And he took my case pro boner because he really has a red rocket on for the cops who always call him “McGruff”. Hee hee.. it is kinda funny though. Don’t tell him I said that.

So it looks like I’m in good hands, er paws, with Legal Beagle. He says they have no case because I made everyone sign waivers and there’s nothing in the city coordinates about having fight clubs. But he says just to be safe I need to shut it all down.

Damn. Just when I was having a good, makin’ money hobby. Guess I’ll go back to either my arts n crafts or my pictures of the homeless people of the ‘Boro.

Heh heh heh… “McGruff”.

LC

Welcome (back) to Rumble Dome-o-sphere!

So I managed to get rid of all those shirts I made in preparation for whoopin’ Doofus McJerky’s arse. And I also managed to make some extra money, friends and a whole new hobby all at the same time.

I let people fight each other! Actually, I let people pay me to let them fight each other in the Rumble Dome-o-sphere and then let people watch them. It’s not as sleazy as it sounds. Well…lookin’ back at it now, I guess it kinda is.

And I know what you’re thinkin, you’re thinkin that I’m tryin to be like that Underground Superhero Fight Club or whatever the hell it was I was involved in back a few months ago. Well, nuh uh. Not me. These fights are just between guys who need to blow off a little steam with each other, and the people watching are their friends. So noone’s gettin all abducted and forced to fight like in all those cool, I mean disturbing, movies that you get to see on Showtime every now and then. It’s all on the up and ups.

I mean, I have the space; the free time; refereeing skills; and I can always use the cash… so why the Hell not?

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a waiver to hammer out that protects my behind and a contract to negotiate between Julio Ice-glacier-ous and his teammate Inflate-a-Bill.

LC

That wiley, Irish bastard!

Frickin’ Dinky McGhee. I don’t know how in the hell he did it, but he managed to escape my brilliant trap to beat the ever-lovin-Lucky Charms outta him.

I left a trail of Guinessess for him leading to the, what I have now taken to calling, The Rumble Dome-o-sphere. I was waiting in said Rumble Dome-o-sphere with my 2 handles of empty Beam. I remember waiting for what seemed like ages until I couldn’t wait any longer and had to go get some Taco Bell.

So I left and got some delicious Double Decker tacos, Cheesy Gordita Crunches and beef & bean burritos. Man that was some good slightly Mexican food.

But no Drinky McGhee. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Just like the number of successful robberies that Stupid O’Stupid has pulled off. Well, I don’t know that for sure, but that’s the word on the street anyways.

So I now I have ta come up with a new plan to catch that potatoe humping douche all over again. Which is really a shame, cause I had some t-shirts made up that said “2 guys enter, one of ‘em leaves…” on the front and “Welcome to Rumble Dome-o-sphere!” on the back. They really kick ass. Now I guess I have to unload ‘em on the Ebay like Mofo had to do for his “The Masked Mofo: Superhero of the Year” shirts that he made before 2002’s Superhero of the Year banquet where he didn’t win Superhero of the Year. I got my shirt for $2.50. It gave me a rash.

LC

Brilliant!

Stupid, Irish son of a bitch!

No, not Bono. Well, not this time anyways. Don’t even get me started on him. I still owe him big time for that time in Belfast.

This time I mean a different stupid, Irish son of a bitch: Drinky McGhee.

He’s gone and pissed me off for the last time. Go and sully my good name all over town (and probably out of it too) will you? I’m gonna give you the beating of a potatoe eatin’, sister kissin’ lifetime. That’s what I’m gonna do!

First I gotta find him, then BAM! Right in the ol’ potatoe sack.

I have Batman-style devised the bestest plan ever to catch that red-headed retard too. And I can tell you guys and not worry about him finding out, because I know full well that Seamus O’Jackoff can’t read above a 1st grade level.

I’m gonna just line up some Guinness in a row all ET/Reeses Pieces style, and then have him walk into a room where I’ll be waiting after having drinked 2 handles of Beam. Oooh, I should probably make sure that those beers aren’t full when he gets ‘em. No wait, screw that! I want him “powered up” (bastard can’t even get an original power). I want to be able to say that I whipped his pale white and freckled ass while he was at full strength.

After I’ve beaten the Rueben sandwich out of him, I’ll take him over to the Police Station and throw him in the drunk tank. Then he’ll have to answer for all the crap he’s been pulling.

Now to go and set my brilliant plan into Action Jackson.

LC

Suit Up!

Peoples have been askin me who all was what all for Halloween. So I figured I’d just go ahead and let all you guys and chicks know:

LC = The Masked Mofo- first place in the imitation contest!!

Mofo = The Masked Mofo

SK = The Slut- he even wore the short shorts and some heels.

The Slut = Ben Stein- Huh, go figure. I guess it was supposed to be a “slutty Ben Stein” or something.

PI = an Ewok

PBS = God’s gift to women (a box w/ a bow and a tag that said “To: Women, From: God”)

The Reverend = Jesus- it’s the same thing every year, except that one year he accidentally went as Tinky Winky, because he thought it was supposed to be a Sesame Street muppet. I think he nearly got excommunicationed because of that.

That’s about it for the heroes you all know and love. I’m still waiting on Felix and Feng to send me that file of all the pictures that were taken at the party. Maybe later I can get those up here in the Interdiary.
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P.s.

I think one of the funniest costume-related things I saw that night was some little, fat guy running around dressed as PI. He was all like “Look at me! I’m Positronic Indigestion!” He was even running around with a little lighter, making it go on and off. I told him it’d be cool if he got some hairspray and made fireballs too. And it was pretty cool… until he lit Extend-o-neck’s giraffe costume on fire. Frigid Lass (who Mofo calls Frosty the Snow Bitch) had to come and put it out.

Felix had the little guy thrown out after that. I felt kinda bad for him actually, like it was kinda my fault or something. Until they started playing “The Chicken Dance” and I had to go shake my bootay in the dance floor. The Chicken Dance will cure just about anything I tell you.

LC

A real Halloweenie

Mofo can be such a buzz kill sometimes. But sometimes he can be the life of the party!

Like for instances the big, big Halloween party that was put on by a couple of local heroes, Fire Island Felix and Feng Shui (they went as Ace and Gary if that gives you any hints about anything). Felix and Feng always throw the best fancy parties, but they always go all outs for Halloween. And also Arbor Day for some reason.

Anyhoo, I went to the party dressed up in the funniest costume I could think of: The Masked Mofo. And Mofo was none too pleased. But he was the only one really. Everybody else thought it was just as funny as I did. In fact, I even won the “best impersonation” with my imitation of Mofo: “You guys suck! You guys are nothing without me!!” Man, I lit up the whole room with that one. Well, except for the one guy in back who yelled out something about everybody being asphalt or something. Maybe he said “maskhole”…

So at the beginning of the party, which Mofo had a hard time getting into because he couldn’t find his invitation and the bouncers had already let one Masked Mofo in already (me), Mofo was a real dick. He was just mocking everybody and saying about how he could throw a better party. Blah blah blah. But then I got him some punch and some of those lady finger thingies (which some looked like ladies fingers and some looked like thingies), told him to shut it & have a good time, and then went off to do some keg stands.

A couple of hours later Mofo comes staggering up to me and SK, who was dressed up as The Slut by the way, and started goin on and on about how he really loves us guys and about how the team wouldn’t be nothing with out us. Something about we were his bestest friends and if something ever happened to him, he wanted one of us to help continue on the Mofo legacy (I think the mask works well for me). And then he threw up all over SK’s high heels.

So that pretty much ended Mofo’s evening right there; and SK’s too because let’s face it, noone wants to dance in vomit-covered high heels. I just laughed and tried to find a camera to capture the moment.

SK took Mofo home, while the rest of us stayed at the party until the cops came to shut it down around 7am or so. The best part about that was when drunk Felix thought the cops were strippers and started throwing money at them and trying to get them to take off their clothes. I think they were gonna arrest him for public drunkedness and possibly assault, but they decided against it when they realized they’d have about 250 drunk and angry superheroes on their hands. So they shut it down, we went over to the Eagle Diner and I got my usual “Moon Over My Hammy”. A good end to a good party. Man, I can’t wait until Arbor Day!

LC