Welcome to week 2 of the All New, All Different HCAD.
We’ve been doing a little better actually keeping up with our schedule if you haven’t noticed, but we promise to still deliver the seat of your pants, impromptu style that comes from our signature brand of procrastinating until the last possible moment. So we’re still writing stuff and still drowning in other obligations, just how we like it.
We’re keeping up with the same schedule that we introduced last week, as we enjoy having free time and you people don’t deserve any more than we’re giving you. Like last week, this week looks a little something… like-a this…
Thanks for reading, pal(s). Be sure to go tell your friend(s) about all the wonderful work we’re doing here so we can make enough money to feed our starving families.
“Where are we going, Jeb!?” Ben Carson asked. He stared intently at the passing blur of green that streamed by outside the car window. “Do we have another debate today?”
“Yeah, buddy. A big ol’ debate. Everyone will be there to see you, champ.” Jeb! pat Ben on the head and gave his coarse salt and pepper hair a scratch.
Continue reading “[Election ‘016 060] Carson and Me” »
“Get the fuck out of here, you ugly freak!” A red faced child yelled before lobbing a rock at Catzilla’s head. His friends snickered as they ran off and ducked into an alley.
Continue reading “[Clipart] Catzilla” »
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The unconscious Jeb! was sprawled across his couch, his slacks and dress shirt disheveled and stained with orange tinted smears and brown splotches. The floor, coffee table, and every inch of the couch not occupied by his bloated body were covered in sticky beer and soda cans and food wrappers, all licked free of crumbs. Jeb’s phone, rattled the half empty Mtn Dew that was placed on top of it, jolting Jeb! awake and sending detritus streaming off the couch and crashing to the floor like a waterfall of aluminum. Jeb! blindly swatted at the tabletop until he grabbed his phone and hit talk.
“Whuuuuh…. what the hell do you want? Who is this?” Jeb! mumbled into the receiver.
Continue reading “[Election ‘016 058] The Death of Jeb!” »
“Alright, Mr. Johnson,” the nurse said. “It appears that your vital signs are in order and you’ve actually lost a few pounds since the last time you were here.”
Herbert Johnson puffed his already bulbous stomach out as far as he could and smacked it like a drum. “Huh, could’ve fooled me!”
The nurse looked at Herbert with an unamused glare. He patted his belly for a few more seconds before giving up on making her smile. “Head down to examination room 213 and the doctor should be waiting for you to discuss the results of your blood work.” Continue reading “[Clipart 056] Doc in the Box” »
The humble auditorium of Ford’s Theater was empty, save for the company on stage performing a rendition of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar and a solitary box occupied by a sullen woman in her late 60s. There were only three seats in the box, one of them draped in an American flag and cordoned off with velvet ropes. Hillary Clinton sat on the far end of the row, surveying the performers below. Each senator plunged a sword into the side of Caesar, whose toga was stained with bright red stage blood. A young man, lean and handsome, with slicked black hair and a freshly pressed suit, walked in and stood nervously behind her, afraid to make a sound. Hillary turned to face him.
“Ah, Julian! Good to see you! Please, sit down.” Hillary beckoned to the young man. Julian hesitated for a moment before joining her next to the off-limits seat.
“You wanted to speak to me, ma’am?” Julian asked. Continue reading “[Election ‘016 57] Hillary the Memer Episode II: The Memes Strike Back” »
(Hey, I actually wrote something!)
“Howdy, kids! It’s me, your pal Cow Cow!” said Cow Cow the Cartoon Cow to nobody in particular as he jigged a merry jig across the rolling green pastures of McCormick Farms, leaping between the smelly piles of hide and fat that were the other cattle. “I’m here to teach y’all about friendship!”
The other cows didn’t make eye contact with the frolicking bovine, but not out of annoyance or spite. They were simply too stupid to know or care about how absurd it was that there was a cow dancing on its hind legs and singing. They just looked off with a glazed over, wall-eyed stare, chewing their cud and occasionally letting out a moo or a puff of gas. Farmer McCormick was making his weekly rounds, checking every other cow or so for any defects or disease. He’d inspect their gums, check for any cuts or other surface symptoms and, when everything appeared to be in working order, he would let them return to grazing. He ran a pretty tight ship, so there were very few times that he had to call in a vet to patch up one of the animals… or a more drastic solution. Today, however, was the exception. Continue reading “[Clipart 051] Cow Cow Cartoon” »
In the Grand Sanctum, the beating heart of the proud Kingdom of Libertaria, jewel of the mortal realm and last bastion of the Ones Before, the King Roenald of the Clan Paul did bequeath upon his son. “Lo, Prince Raendus, son of Roenald, son of Coaspar, sole heir to this holy kingdom beneath the light of the Gods’ eyes. You, young one whose untamed mane cries in defiance of heaven’s strongest winds, have been summoned to this Sanctum to complete a task. I and my subjects have long known this day, this most auspicious of days, would come, but we knew not that it would come so soon,” said the elder Paul, muscles limp and bones scarred from decades of battle and time’s weathering. “I have grown weak in my old age, Raendus, my son of sons, and I can no longer carry the weight of our people upon my shoulders. Yes, my son, it is your time. ‘tis the dawn of a new age. Tonight, as the three suns set behind the Spine of Aeyn, the throne shall be yours.” Continue reading “[Election ‘016 52] Rand’s Last Stand” »
Ted got out a pack of crayons and set them on the table next to a large piece of construction paper. He opened the pack and sniffed that crayon-y smell fresh out of the box. He took out the macaroni-and-cheese one and began to draw a map of Iowa.
Drawing this map of Iowa and then dividing it into its ninety-nine counties was the only way he could unwind and relax tonight. It helped him take his mind off the stress and put his energies into something creative and powerful and beautiful and intuitive.
He just wished that President Reagan could see him now. His drawing was sure to look great and represent the heart of America, but he wanted more than anything for Reagan to be proud of him,
One day, though, he would make the man happy, he thought as he marked a giant green X over Des Moines.
Continue reading “[Election ‘016 51] Eve of Iowa” »