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THIS IS WHERE YOU GO TO READ RANDOM SHIT,

SOMETIMES REFERRED TO AS A "BLOG".

APRIL 9, 2006

ROLLY KABANG, THE LASTEST LEPRECHAUN

A Coming of Age Story

By Eddy Rubskin

 

I was 5 years old when I had my first nervous breakdown.

I know what you're thinking. "That's not posible, Ed. A five year old couldn't have a nervous breakdown!" Have you been reading the other articles on this fine website or just blindly scanning the words like a moron? In case you didn't notice, we here at The House of Necrozen are a tightly wound bunch.

There are alot of things out there that either scare the shit out of me or completely piss me off. I can't go one full day without seeing an SUV and wanting to take a bat to the windsheild. Who the hell really needs to drive something that fucking big? I say "Listen here, Captain Nemo, the earth called and she needs her goddamn gravitational pull back!"

Everytime time I see a soccer-mom nodding to the drive through intercom at McDonalds I want to walk up to the back window of her Ford Violator and throw up on her brood in the back seat. And I would have done it, too - only I hadn't  eaten enough garbage from the clown god to facilitate a proper gurge.

 

 

And if I turn on the News one more time to get the weather and the bitch behind the desk is taking 5 minutes of valuable news time to give me an update on the last person voted out of survivor, I'm going to drink a bottle of vinegar and put my fist through the screen. And all those who are going to fill up Justin's Inbox with letters saying "What's with Eddy Rubskin? He's insane!! LOL." Save your time, high and mighty. I know I'm crazy, I don't need you to tell me that.

Either way,  my life as a limp-dicked kvetch started early and alot of people ask me how I ended up like this...

It all began with the mystical appearence of Rolly Kabang, Lastest Leprechaun.

True story.

One Fine St. Patrick's Day, in kindergarten class, my teachers decided to surprise us, their  young impressionable students, by pulling a stunt which I now blame for  most of my jittering psychosis.

The morning started out normal.

I come into class and realize I was busy drawing pictures of skeletons the night before and I had forgotten to color the picture of the clown holding four cookies. Well I'm a nervous person to begin with and the idea of falling by the wayside, failing my homework, scared the shit out of me. Then the stinky kid comes over to me and starts looking at the skeletons I drew on the back of my worksheet. Of course, he draws the attention of the teacher, who come over and asks me why I didn't color the clown and I shrug.

Fastforward to the middle of the day pee-break, which we all took together - lining up and marching down the hall as the good soldiers we were - straight line, alphebetical order etc. Of course, I don't pee, because I don't like the idea of pissing in herds. So I just go into the bathroom and pretend, like I always do.

As we were coming back into class from the bathroom, we all stopped dead in our tracks - including the teachers. I was one of the kids who was at the front of the line, so I got a first hand view of the chaos. The kids in the back were shuffling thier way to the corridor to see what had happened. Our eyes were wide with horror as we scanned the classroom, which had been ransacked mercilessly. The desks were turned over and half-colored cookie clowns hung out of open cubby holes like faceless victims of a fruitless war. There were crayons and papers and books and toys littering the floor. And it seems that the culprit had left some sort of clue behind, at least that's what the teachers were saying.

Then I saw it.

Everywhere, sprinkled over everything - green sparkles.

One of the kids in the back had an idea. Maybe it was a Leprechaun!? The teachers began to vigorously nod their heads - and that's the point where I could feel the tears begin to well up in my eyes. The whole situation was begining to seriously fuck with my reality.

This kind of stuff wasn't supposed to happen at school. School was my stone anchor of reality in a life mostly filled with flights into the fantastic. As you might guess, I had quite an active imagination when I was a kid. But school was the one place where I didn't have to worry about being afraid because it had structure and routine...

Until now.

The teachers (there were two - the regular teacher and her helper) began to pick up the mess as the rest of us stood frozen in horror. It was the assistant teacher who found the note.

She stood there for a moment, in an over emphasized "I wonder what this is" pose - her shoulders and hips unparallel and a single finger on her chin. The other teacher encouraged her to read it out loud. As she began, I prepared for the worst - planting myself on the nearest technicolor plastic seat.

"DEAR MRS. BLANKS CLASS,"

the note began

"My name is Rolly Kabang. I am a leprechaun. I am angry because all the big people have tried to catch me, so I have messed up your room. If you want me to be happy, stop trying to catch me. Happy St. Patricks day."

 

 

I lost my shit. Litterally. There was a loud rumble, and I shit my pants.

My stomach had already been bothering me to begin with, and the idea of a little green monster sneaking into our room while we were gone and tearing the place up scared me so bad that I lost control and out it came. I began to cry and the teachers took me to the office.

As I was standing in the office (they wouldn't let me sit on account of the shit in my pants) the helper teacher came in and explained it all to me. I must've had a frozen look of horror on my face, because she took her time explaining to me that Leprechauns didn't exhist. She said she had stayed behind and messed up the room and put glitter all over the place - that she thought it would be fun.

Fun.

Standing there, with shitty pants - redefining the word fun - I realized one simple thing.

TRUST NO ONE!

thanks for reading

 

 

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APRIL 2, 2006

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO DAN FIELDING?

An article of curious resolve,

by Justin Day

 

 

WAS HE A VICTIM OF THE LUNATIC MACHINE?

 

I spent a great deal of my life wondering if he would ever find a nice lady and settle down.

So what ever happened to Dan Fielding?

I'm not talking about the Emmy winning actor, John Larroquette who played him on the hit TV show Night Court. I couldn't care less about that guy. I want to know where Dan Fielding  (the chauvinistic bastard with a golden heart) is right now. What's he doing?

Did he ever catch the woman of his dreams?

Dan Fielding was born in a time when television was important. In the virgin years of communicatastrophe, the mid-eighties, eons before the masses had ever heard of a contraption called the "INTERNET", television was our main connection with the outside world. It was our magic window-box. The television sold us our future, and all we had to pay was attention.

I personally think that the show Night Court was created by a psychiatrist as a weekly session for blue-collar whores. But that's just my opinion.

Dealing with such issues as Solicitation, death, aliens, god, crime, drugs and the longing feeling all of us have "to be a part of a group that really cares about us", Night Court gave its viewers a half an hour to question who they were and why.

Watching the old show on TVLand got me thinking about our world and its current state. Frankly, I don't think a show like Nightcourt would be possible in this, the age of Perfection and Projection - the age of the victim. People no longer feel obligated to grasp the finer points, if they ever did to begin with. Today topics must be broadened. Ideas must be bloated and all-inclusive. There is no room for character. Individuality is seen as a weekness. It's a fascist approach to expected ubiquity.

Our country has an agenda and it's much more important than our small lives. We're not supposed to question things anymore - that only leads to problems. If your TV challenged you, then you might start challenging the ideas around you. This is why most of the shows you see today are so hokey and boring, and the ones that do give you something to think about are condemned and eventually canceled (RIP Arrested Development).

Night Court would be canceled after the first episode if it were aired today.

Why do I think this?

That question brings us back to our original question. What ever happened to Dan Fielding? Hmmm... Interesting story - I'll tell you. He was arrested not long ago.

You see - Christine, the blonde bombshell from the show sued him for sexual harassment. Dan was the type of person who was known for his office antics with the ladies. You could see it every episode. He loved women and loved telling them that he loved them. Was he really a disgusting pig who got off on mentally raping weak women? No.

He was just a dude who didn't know any other way to express himself. But that explanation doesn't hold water these days. A character flaw like that will not assist a man in this Oprah driven, SUV protected world of soccer moms. You have to be perfect now. You have to be robotic and never cross the line. You have to wear a mask. You have to walk on your tippy-toes and use your inside voice - if you dont, you're a terrorist.

Do you see those models on television? Those American Idols are your cookie-cutter messiahs. That's who you want to be. Not a doctor, scientist, designer, or computer mathematician. You want to be a citizen. That's right kids, you have to be a wonderful citizen. Or else...

Or else what?

Those who find out never get to tell the rest of us the answer to that question - they just disappear into their homes, where they sit on computers and live out their daily fantasies in a world of secrecy - and that's where THE MAN wants them.

Dan Fielding is out of Jail now - he's at home, paying money to talk dirty to some webcam girl and that's where they want him. Maybe he really is sick and perverted now, but that's not his fault. He didn't start out that way. He had no other place to go. He was quarantined because he didn't fit in and this changed him.

The way the USA sees it, he can't infect others while he's confined in his own prison.

I think the same thing happens to those Catholic priests who molest children. They are consumed by thier
own restrictions. I'm not saying that what they do is OK, I'm simply saying that sometimes you have to
take a step back and look at the mechanics of the situation. Sometimes you have to survey the machine. The Priests are denied the natural human right to sex, and this denial stagnents and turns to perversion. The question remains: Had they not stopped themselves from having sex, would therE still be a sickness in their minds? 

Restriction, Censorship - these practices don't make humans better people. Unnatural nforcements such as these drive people crazy and change them into the very thing they were trying to avoid.

If people don't wake up soon...

God Bless America for becoming a lunatic machine.