Bluezer0.net

The Humperdinks Goes Live!!!!!

2012-11-24T19:43:14Z

BZ Staff

The Humperdinks: Enter the Sasquatch

2012-11-22T23:50:37Z

The Third Fictional Reporter reporting. . . Worthington – After being together for a year or so, I guess, “The” Shadow Humperdink, esquire and the goddess Danu dominate the scene in Worthington (aka Hollywood II: The Next Day). The goddess Danu has more than six brass knuckle pendants, and a brand-ish new-ish 1989 IROC Z28. Where is the money for such luxury coming from? Why does The Shadow disappear into the city at night and return at exactly 10:22 AM? Only The Shadow knows. But what I know is this: This strange upswing in Shadu’s standard of living just happened to coincide with the filming of The Humperdinks, the new webseries created, written, and directed by The Fat Kid. Are they getting kickbacks from the show? Did they sell their story? Or is it something more sinister? According to advance information I received this morning from anonymous sources, it’s probably a combination of things. The Fat Kid’s new webseries allegedly depicts the life and times of a sasquatch Mafioso and his wife, a Celtic goddess. As it bears their name, it is difficult to take it as anything other than a biographical series based on the real lives of the actual Humperdink family. It is difficult to believe that the Humperdinks would allow The Fat Kid to essentially fictionalize their lives for free – there must be some kind of payment. Whether they licensed their life stories away, or whether they agreed to a lump sum, it is clear that isn’t the Humperdinks’ only source of income. The afore-mentioned IROC is fucking sweet, dude. It’s all black, and its body is nice enough to have that kind of paint job – there are only thirteen scratches, two rust spots, one dent, and one spot where there’s Bondo. And it’s an ’89 so it has the TPI injected 350/5.7 liter, making this car easily worth $1,500, which we know is far, far outside The Fat Kid’s price range. Then try accounting for the old-school Cragar SS rims on that jaunz. It just doesn’t add up. There’s almost zero possibility that the goddess has gone back to work at Cinnabon, and The Shadow refuses on principle to work, so we can only arrive at one conclusion – that the gangstalicious lifestyle allegedly depicted in The Fat Kid’s new series is in some degree real. Whatever the case may actually be – because, for the record, as solid as it seems this article has been strictly speculation – the series will premiere whenever The Fat Kid gets off his fat fucking ass and premieres it, aka whenever he feels like it. But that is alleged to be soon. It stars Twittericans @NomieHomie and @BogusFlip, and was written, directed, and created by @The_Fatkid. It was produced and scored by @Decanus. Look out for it soon, on this website!!!!!

The Fat Kid (also) Flees!!!! Rumors Spread!!!

2012-09-22T19:41:34Z

The Third Fictional Reporter reporting. . . Clintonville – As some of you may recall, two weeks ago I reported that Decanus Picto had fled the long-time BZ offices on the basement level of Clintonville’s famous Chateau 4030, and that no one knows where Picto went or why. This morning I went to The Fat Kid’s fat fucking apartment and found that he, too, had fled for parts – and reasons – unknown. The Fat Kid’s Fatpartment is completely empty, and it seems to have gotten that way entirely over night. BZ scientists at first thought that he may have become so massive that he collapsed into himself, and was reduced to a singularity. They abandoned that theory when they figured that they’d probably have noticed the resulting black hole. Was the Clintonville ghost responsible for this? Did it drive them out? Or was it the shirtless white trash drug dealer next door? And will the shirtless dope dealer begin to wear shirts in the fall, or continue to flex his half-naked skinniness in that tiny apartment together with the probably-gay half-hipster half-punk with the Dead Kennedys back patch and the Woody Allen glasses? Will the fat Jew-fro kid regain his rightful place as the shirtless dope dealer’s side kick? Will the fat Jew-fro kid still walk around the parking lot with a bag of drugs on what looks like a serving tray, pretending he’s a maid while measuring out grams of weed or meth or whatever the fuck they sell there? Who gives a dick? The important thing here is that since Decanus and The Fat Kid fled, I have been doing some digging around. Though I have not been able to locate Decanus, I have heard some rumors about The Fat Kid. While drinking snakebites at everyone in Clintonville’s favorite bar, I heard two pretty girls – obviously aspiring actresses – talking about auditioning. When I asked them what they were auditioning for, they told me there was a new production being cast in Worthington, and they had both tried out for the part of the goddess Danu!!!!!!!! Apparently, yet another production company has sprung up in Worthington, Ohio, which is quickly becoming know as the second Bollywood, or “Hollywood II: The Next Day,” and they are making a television show about the famous and super-hot goddess. Could this show be the mysterious but much-ballyhooed, “The Humperdinks”? Has The Fat Kid run away to Worthington to become a fat fucking director? I will continue to investigate these and other questions. Check back for updates!!!!!!!!!!!!

Picto Flees; BZ Offices Vacated!!

2012-09-02T17:27:44Z

The Third Fictional Reporter reporting. . . Clintonville – I know all of you were waiting on the far edges of your seats to find out what happened in the case of the Clintonville Ghost – but ghosts won’t be rushed. They don’t work on schedules and, according to some, they have no sense of time, so last week’s would-be update was preempted by BZ’s announcement of the hittishest new TV series that hasn’t been produced or filmed or put on the internet yet, The Humperdinks. However, the Clintonville Ghost did not allow BZ offices to function normally for long. This chicken soft taco was violently hurled to the floor by the trashy ghost of Clintonville!!! The utter scariness of the event drove Picto and the BZ office managers out of the building for good. In the small hours of the 29th, strange noises were heard in the hallways of Chateau Clintonville, this time something louder than before. As a BZ employee, I was given my own chamber in the Chateau, and though I looked out the door to see whether there was, for instance, some shirtless white trash dope dealer selling meth or whatever in the hallway (which some skeptics have claimed is the real explanation for what is going on in Clintonville), there was nothing visible. The noises continued almost until dawn, at which point I got up and went to explore the building. When I reached the bottom floor I discovered the BZ offices wide open, which is strange since most BZ staffers don’t even wake up until around 2PM. Several staffers were there, coffee in hand, wearing the thousand yard stare. I couldn’t persuade them to tell me what happened – it appeared that Picto had cautioned them to keep their mouths shut – but they were all packing boxes. BZ was leaving the Chateau that has been its home since The Great Migration of 2007. The rest of the building was a mess. There was more ectoplasm, and trash thrown all over the floor, including a stack of envelopes that was ripped off the bulletin board and scattered around the hallway, and a chicken soft taco that was way too cold to eat, and had to be microwaved for like thirty-five or forty seconds before it was palatable. The filthy white trash animal of a ghost ripped some more shit off the bulletin board, as was expected. No one can really deal with him, and we hope he fails a drug test and gets in trouble with his probation officer or something. At this point, The Fat Kid and I, who once made up less than a tenth of BZ’s presence in the building (but two thirds of its gross weight), are the only associates left here – and he was slinking around so strangely it wouldn’t surprise me to find that he was planning to abscond soon as well. Where has Picto gone? And what of BZ? Will the organization reform? If so, where? And what of the ghost? The original report on the Clintonville ghost was that it was the spirit of the BAGD come back to take Picto and The Fat Kid to hell. Will it follow them? Nobody knows – not even The Shadow.

Coming This Fall: The Humperdinks Web Series

2012-09-01T23:31:16Z

Get ready for the new romantic love story and organized crime drama created by The Fat Kid... Coming to Youtube this fall!

The Clintonville Ghost

2012-08-19T19:29:22Z

The Third Fictional Reporter reporting. . . Clintonville – Those of you who can read and aren’t wacked out on thorazine may have noticed that the site stopped publishing [in-house] articles at the end of March. No one died – or at least no one good – but there were some strange events. The second to last article published was about that fattest of fat, and thirtysomethingest of thirtysomething “kids,” The Fat Kid, and his run in with the ghost of the BAGD in Chateau 4030. After that run in, things seemed to quiet down in Clintonville. In fact, they got so quiet that I stopped reporting, and even stopped checking in with His Fatness over my several-month-long Spring/Summer vacation (which I apparently get). However, when I returned a few days ago to ride out the end of August drunk at the Chateau, I found that The Fat Kid was no longer quite so calm, and Clintonville was no longer quite so quiet. Ectoplasmic residue found in the hallway at Chateau 4030. It’s pretty gross, right? Yeah. Ew, dude. When I got back on the morning of August 6th, I met The Fat Kid, and he was pretty shaken up. He was ever so slightly thinner, as evidence by the fact that his shadow no longer crushed houseplants, and he was pale and more lethargic than usual. I immediately assumed he had cancer. You know, because fatness causes cancer. But he assured me that his doctor had given him a clean bill of health. When I asked him what was the matter, he skirted the issue for several days, but eventually, I was able to get it out of him – the ghostly disturbances had started again, and this time the disturbances were getting physical. After the incident in which he actually caught the ghost on camera, he expected things to get much worse – especially given what the BAGD’s ghost said to him. When the activity slowed way down, at first he was wary, expecting an upswing, but after two months he inevitably let his guard down – and then took a shot to the head. When the activity first revived, he said, it sounded much like a burglary, which he was prepared for. After the incident, he had started sleeping with an anodized 6061 aluminum MagLite – well known to be the LAPD’s favorite mêlée weapon – by his bedside, so he was ready to deal with what he thought was an intruder ripping apart the infamous Chamber 19. BZ insiders are all too aware that Chamber 19 is the chamber in which the BAGD was stored, and in fact was locked away alone for weeks or months at a time – and that this must be where it went insane. Since its ghost has returned, employees have felt its presence there most strongly. But The Fat Kid didn’t think of this. He only grabbed his Maglite, and went downstairs, where the terrible thumping was coming from. He said that it sounded almost like a fist fight, or a drug bust, or some shirtless white trash dope dealer selling meth out his window. When he approached the door to Chamber 19, he became more frightened. It didn’t just sound like some shirtless dope dealer, it sounded like the shirtless dope dealer might have a pussified hipster friend with Woody Allen glasses and rolled up skinny jeans in there with him. He braced himself for hilariously white trash horror, and burst open the door. The second the door opened, all the noise stopped. The Fat Kid shone his flashlight around the chamber, but there was no one there. For a second he was relieved, until something invisible grabbed him by the shirt, threw him on the floor, and kicked the shit out of him with what felt like plastic wheels! And this was only the first time. After that, the incidents became trashier, and increasingly violent. It seemed to him as though the BAGD was fulfilling its promise to drive him to suicide. And it seemed to be working. He no longer slept. He couldn’t work. He couldn’t even think of anything other than the terrifying and violent ghost that was apparently haunting the Chateau. Though I believed him, I told The Fat Kid that this sounded like a pretty far-fetched story, and asked if he had gathered any evidence. He had, he said. He was too ashamed to take pictures of himself all beaten up by that trashy ghost, but he did have pictures of other things that proved the ghost was manifesting physically in this dimension. There was a particular incident in the hallway that The Fat Kid was too frightened to investigate right away, but that sounded like some white trash fucks running back and forth the whole length of the Chateau, throwing things. When he stepped into the hall the next morning, he saw that someone had ripped something off the bulletin board and thrown it on the floor – and on the wall next to it there was what paranormal researchers refer to as “ectoplasm,” a substance that supposedly forms as a residue when spirits enter this realm. Ectoplasm on the wall. In this slightly wider shot, you can see that the ectoplasm is right next to the papers the trashy ghost threw on the floor. Therefore, we can conclude with utter certainty that a spirit left the realm of the dead, entered this realm at that exact point in space, and then threw something on the floor – and this rebellious gesture was clearly worth the trouble. I have run this evidence past writers of several peer-reviewed journals, and they are all skeptical. They say it is well known – and even being investigated by the police – that a real shirtless dope dealer actually does live in Chateau 4030, and that he actually does sell meth or weed or whatever right out his window. They further claim that trashy, shirtless dope dealers have been known to spit on the walls of their homes, like some of the filthier primates, and it is clear to them that the shirtless dope dealer they allege lives in the Chateau is clearly exhibiting this well known white trash behavior. But after having been here for thirteen days, I have seen no evidence of this. It is my firm belief that these mindless skeptics and debunkers stretch their imaginations, and do all sorts of logical contortions, in order to protect the religion of science. Regardless of what these unthinking imbeciles say, I say that based on this firm evidence it is clear that we are dealing with genuine psychic phenomenon here. The Fat Kid claims that the incidents are increasing in both their frequency and their violence. We here at BZ will remain vigilant, and be sure to collect and carefully document any evidence that comes to light, so that we may in the future prove that psychic phenomena are real – not just with phony audio recordings of people whispering, and not just with meaningless EMF nonsense, but with real, tangible evidence.

An Open Letter To The Good People Of Twitter.com

2012-07-15T05:02:41Z

Clintonville - Unable to grasp the concept of writing in 140 characters or less, our long time and perhaps our most dissatisfied reader Big Gunny Wayne sent us, the bored and sleepy staff of the long dormant BZ, his wordy and open letter to the users of the social media empire Twitter.com. Mr. Wayne has a something to say about the recent "tweeting" by 2012 U.S. Presidential candidate Decanus Picto during the Picto '12 America's Heartland effort this past June. Paducah, Kentucky's Columbia Theater hours before Decanus Picto's arrival for a stump speech and autograph session during the Picto '12 America's Heartland campaign swing. To Whom It Should Concern, In this letter I'm not going to discuss BlueZer0.net's welcomed absence from the intraweb's cloud of mind-numbing publishing. Instead, I am responding to Decanus Picto's recent, drunken, annoying Twitter based political campaign through our nation's beloved heartland. My vision that some day soon, people everywhere will rise to the challenge of thwarting Picto's untoward, deluded plans is an inspiring dream. Unfortunately, reality always awakens me and reminds me that there is a problem here. A beer-breathed, feebleminded-filled problem. In its latest manifestation, the problem made itself know to me in the form of Picto '12 POTUS campaign trail tweet filled month of June. You may not believe me when I say that ignorant and highly emotional persons are frequently swayed by Picto's bombast and fustian, but the facts are plain and abundant for anyone with the eyes to see and the intelligence to discern fact from fancy. Ignorance is the main weapon Decanus and his gloomy cohorts, like The Fat Kid (@The_FatKid), exploit to deceive the weak and the apathetic. What else do these insecure parvenus, craven, vapid soi-disant God-mockers have in common? If you answered, "They all conjure up dirt against their fellow human beings," then pat yourself on the back. I suggest that Mr. Picto insists that we ought to worship him and his cadre of flagitious wisenheimers as folk heroes as they crucify the wholesomeness of our nation on the cross of mocking, lying tweets. Now that you've read the bulk of this letter, it should not come as a complete surprise that I call on you, the better part of the Twitter-verse to shout down @Decanus and his co-conspirators whenever they dare to tweet their hateful lies and menacing deceits, no matter how well disguised, and help put the kibosh on his machinations by submitting them to the proper authorities for overdue banishment from Twitter.com. In harm's way, Big Gunny Wayne -Posted by Pimples Malone

Shadu Reunited (and it feels. . . OK)! Legal Status Update Pending

2012-03-25T15:49:22Z

The Fat Kid reporting. . . Clintonville – When last we heard about The Shadow almost two months ago, things were still up in the air. That is, after the charge against him (possession of a schedule I narcotic with intent to distribute) was dropped due to his not actually being human, it was not clear what The Shadow was going to do with himself. Legally stripped of the ability to work (not that he ever did anyway – not really), and barred from returning to the city itself, the last we saw of him was this pathetic tableau: The Shadow begging to be admitted to the goddess Danu’s apartment. Fuck him. He deserved that. But now it is clear enough that The Shadow and Danu are back together. Local celebrity couple Shadu, together at the grand re-re-opening of a Nebuchadnezzer II’s Hoagie Shack on the (rather seedy) west side of Worthington. The paparrazzi-type that sold us this pic claims The Shadow was saying, “Take one more picture of me, and I’mna ram that fucking camera straight up your gerbil burrow!” The goddess Danu was heard to giggle, “Calm down, honey. You can kill some people later.” The Shadow and Danu were seen together Friday night, at a local celeb party that took place at the fabulous new Worthington club, Nebuchadnezzer II’s Hoagie Shack. After the event was over, local paparrazzi followed Shadu for eight miles before getting their windshields smashed by bricks that The Shadow was apparently throwing out the back of Danu’s SUV. However, just before passing out due to blood loss, photographers Matt Bevilaqua and Rocco Dimeo claimed that they were heading in roughly the direction of Danu’s apartment on the south side. It seems, then, that the couple are back together – and even cohabitating. However, several things remain unclear. When the honorable judge Adam Keefe Horowitz ruled that The Shadow was legally an animal, he warned The Shadow that returning to the city and thereby becoming a nuisance could result in his being “put down” by a rifle shot to the head. When I phoned judge Horowitz at 2AM on Saturday just to let him know that The Shadow had been back in the city, and according to his ruling would have to be shot in the head, the judge informed me that he’d “make another ruling ‘cuz The Shadow wanted more of this, suckers they be thinking they can disregard the ruling of judge Horowitz.” However, as of press time, judge Horowitz informs me, he is powerless to rule that The Shadow be put down because Danu’s lawyer, Harold Melvoin, has filed an injunction preventing any action against him before the honorable judge Vincenzo Luvineri can rule on whether The Shadow, as an animal, can be classified as Danu’s pet! This, of course, would mean that The Shadow would be allowed back in the city, subject to the same rules as any other pet – however, he would still not be able to work legally. How will he support himself? Will he simply sponge off the goddess Danu? That seems less than likely. And that much aside, how could Danu, who works at Cinnabon, afford a lawyer like the famous Harold Melvoin? We shall see. Meanwhile, let’s all hope that Judge Luvineri makes the right decision, and rules that The Shadow must be shot in his fucking head. The bastard.

Big Gunny Wayne Hates On The Fat Kid

2012-03-18T23:49:04Z

Clintonville - With Decanus and The Shadow out, both suffering from spring fever, and The Fat Kid faking up a doctor's note, little is going on this week at the BZ offices. So, the BZ staff decided to break out the mail bag again. Lucky for you, our loyal readers, they found a surprise! Big Gunny Wayne loads it up once more. Just like last time and the time before that, he's pointing his wordy criticisms with both barrels of the dictionary shotgun. This time he shows The Fat Kid no mercy. . . To Whom It Should Concern, If ever I had a letter to write, this is it. My challenge is to convince BlueZer0.net readers that The Fat Kid's perceptions constitute one of the many conduits of antagonism in our culture. I don't want to promote The Fat Kid's blandishments. Generally, I find The Fat Kid's obloquies rather minatory. But too often, The Fat Kid's utterly flabby synapses leads him to believe that heathenism is a viable and vital subject for our nation's online media institutions. First, the misinformation: He suggests that satanic squirrels and space aliens are out to launch their hell-war of death all over us. What? Better he stop getting his opinions from devious dissemblers and start doing some research of his own. This much is clear: When I say that The Fat Kid's diatribes are mystifying revenge fantasies, I mean it. I don't mean that they remind me of something recalcitrant or that they have one or two recalcitrant characteristics. I mean that they are recalcitrant revenge fantasies. In fact, if he leads with, "The Fat Kid reporting. . ." one more time, I'm certainly going to throw up. Let's get down to brass tacks: BlueZer0.net is administered by pecksniffian, namby-pamby boeotians and it doesn't do us much good to become angry and wave our arms and shout about the evils of The Fat Kid's particularly dotty form of irresponsible journalism. Let's just ignore him and see what he does. That's it for this email. I sincerely hope that typing it was not a complete waste of energy. I would like to encourage our spirits to soar. Unfortunately, I do realize that my words will probably trigger no useful response from The Fat Kid's brain. I just felt obligated to go through the motions because there should be a law against what he is doing. In harm's way, Big Gunny Wayne Now, wasn't that surprising? -Pimples Malone

The Haunting Continues (with streaming video!!!)

2012-03-11T17:26:18Z

The Third Fictional Reporter reporting. . . Clintonville – Some of you may recall that several months back, BlueZer0 reported on some strange incidents that took place in Clintonville’s famous Chateaux Clintonville complex, the former home of The Shadow, and long-time home of BZ luminaries such as Decanus Picto, the BZ offices, and now – after a brief stint in an overpriced shithole in Upper Arlington – the Fat Kid is back in one of the Chateaux as well. However, things have not gone smoothly for The Fat Kid, as he has been the target of numerous attacks by supernatural entities, at least one of which has sworn to drive The Fat Kid to suicide, and take him to hell. However, as this story fell by the wayside in the wake of The Shadow’s daring daylight robbery and subsequent arrest and imprisonment, I saw this thread as an opportunity to earn a paycheck. Accordingly, I packed my digital recorder and. . . well, that’s all I packed. And I didn’t really pack it so much as I just stuck it in my pocket. But whatever, dude. Just read the thing below. A horrible cell phone pic of one of Clintonville’s three famous Fateaux. The Fat Kid might live in this one, no? The Chateaux at night are big and bright. And they kinda remind you of that Amityville house, too, right? With all the lights on and stuff? That’s the effect I was going for here, anyway. When I returned to The Fat Kid’s Chateau for the first time since November, I noticed that the atmosphere of the place was grim. Not like someone farted real bad, but rather like someone had just been beaten up, and they were still real mad about it. Upon reaching The Fat Kid’s wing of the chateau, it was deadly silent, and my footsteps echoed up and down the unusually long corridors. In The Fat Kid’s cavernous library, the effect was the same as, over a snifter of Newcastle Brown Ale (recently voted the world’s most important liquid, beating out water by a wide margin, and beating out blood by over 50%), he related the following account. FK: It is not worth telling, this story of mine – at least not worth writing – because people won’t believe it. People only believe in ghosts when green-looking people on TV pretend to have seen them and then act real scared. Other than that, unless they have a recording of some static that they can pretend is a voice, they just act like ghosts don’t exist. But they do. Since the BAGD swore it’d get revenge on me for shit that other people did, my life has been pretty normal. Right afterward, I was really on my guard – always looking around corners carefully, burning sage – smudge sticks, they’re called – in all the corners, wearing protective amulets, and regularly invoking Shabuel, Demuel, and Vihael – and lemme tell you, Vihael is a cut up. But anyway, there were only a few small incidents. One night, I was sure that someone was walking around in my room, for instance, but I couldn’t see them. And one night I heard someone walk down the hallway and stop at my door, but the footsteps never went away – it was like the person just stood there and disappeared. But, again, that was small stuff that never resulted in anything in particular, and then after a little while even that stuff went away. For a couple of months, there was nothing. But now it has started again. Two weeks ago, I was having trouble sleeping. I was just staring at the ceiling, sort of getting impatient, tired of waiting to drift off, and then I noticed that there was a kind of sound, a small type of sound – the kind of thing that can go totally unnoticed unless you’re in a perfectly quiet room. It was a metallic sound, almost like a muffled squeak – and then it hit me that it was my door knob. Someone was twisting my door knob, almost millimeter by millimeter, trying to get it open, but not to wake me. The thing is, I leave my chamber door unlocked – I see locking it as unnecessary, since there’s so much security at the East and West entrances. I started sweating, thinking it was a burglar or something, and that whoever it was, they would be in my chamber WITH ME in just a few seconds! I was paralyzed – I couldn’t move no matter how much I wanted to. Every couple seconds, the doorknob would squeak just the tiniest bit, an almost undetectable amount, but I could hear it. But then it stopped. I almost thought that I had just been scaring myself to death with paranoia, but then something WORSE happened. The door started to open. Again, the movement was slow and painful. It opened only the tiniest bit at a time, and then for almost a full minute it would sit perfectly still. And during that minute, I’d hope and pray and wish that it would be over, that whoever was standing there would just leave, just go away, but then that infinitesimal movement would begin again, and end just as quickly – and then I’d wait again, sweating, eyes wide, and utterly paralyzed. After this went on for however long – it seemed like hours, but could only have been minutes at most – the worst thing happened. When you’re going through something like this, with anticipation tearing you to shreds, the one thing that keeps you sane is the miniscule, but very real, hope that whatever is tormenting you isn’t really there – that you’re making it up, or that you’re delusional, or hearing things. But there comes a time when your worst fears are confirmed, and it shocks the system. And that’s what happened to me – my fear was absolutely confirmed when I saw a crack of light coming in from the hallway – the door had actually opened! Someone real and tangible, with intentions that could only be VERY bad, was standing right there, opening my door millimeter by millimeter, and there I was, in otherwise pitch darkness, with no weapon – I didn’t even have shoes on! That crack of light steeled my resolve, and the shock it gave me freed me from paralysis. I reached over to my bedside table and grabbed the first thing that came to hand – but it was useless. It was my digital camera. The camera was too light to do anything but irritate the intruder if I threw it at him, and there was nothing else within my reach, so I did the only thing I could think to do – I turned it on. I don’t know why. I guess, in retrospect, I thought I’d take a picture or two, and maybe leave some evidence behind for the police when they found my body in a few days or whatever. But in any case, that’s all I could think of, and that’s what I did. The problem, though, was that the camera made noise coming on, and even my moving just to reach the thing had made noise in the otherwise silent chateau, so I knew the intruder knew I was there, and awake, and waiting for him. This was the worst moment – not knowing what he, whoever HE was, would do. Would he leave? No. That didn’t make sense. Whoever this person was, he was there for a definite purpose that he was bent on carrying out. The only thing he’d do, the only strategy left to him, was to spring the door open as quickly as possible, but at an unexpected moment, and try to take me by surprise in that way. That was the only possibility. And I figured the man would probably have a gun and would simply shoot me, or maybe he’d just rush at me right away without leaving me time for photography. So if I was going to leave any evidence for the police, I’d have to guess exactly when he’d open the door, and take a pic at that exact second. Again it was an excruciating wait – the tension was ripping me apart, and the sweat streaming off me. I waited, but nothing happened. There was just the crack of light streaming through, and dead silence, but with each second that went by I feared more and more that I’d miss my chance. Eventually, I felt that I couldn’t take it anymore, and decided to force the situation – I’d snap a pic and trip him up, make him do something out of sync with his intentions when he heard that sound, and catch HIM off guard. Maybe he’d kill me all the same. But maybe he’d leave. Or maybe it’d buy me a second or two to get out of bed and fight my attacker on an almost equal footing. I decided to do it – and I did. But there was no picture. Earlier in the day I had been shooting a homemade porno with a bunch of homeless ex-runways, who were now too old to get by on their looks, and the camera was still set on video mode! When I pressed the button, there was no flash or anything, just that irritating beep that cameras make! And then a second later, the door eerily creaked as it swung open and there stood – THE BAGD’s ghost!!!!!!!!! All I could see was its silhouette, but it was certainly him – all aluminum pipe, with that eldritch bungee cord hanging off its neck like a stretchy noose! The macabre BAGD’s nightspirit stood in my doorway laughing at me, and told me it was going to take me to hell! The spectral BAGD makes an appearance at The Fat Kid’s fat-ass door. Do you believe he actually fits through there? Really? His fat ass through that regular-ass doorway? I don’t. Not without some lubricant. Maybe butter. I’m sure he has a ton of it around. In just seconds the BAGD’s ghost disappeared, and I almost didn’t believe what had happened. I thought it must have been simply a nightmare – but I still had the camera in my hand, and when I sifted through the porno clips I had shot earlier, there it was – I had the ghost on video! After this, The Fat Kid didn’t want to continue the interview, which was just as well, given that he told pretty much everything that happened. However, I was able to get him to agree to let me have a copy of the video, and I will upload to the site ASAP. So, the haunting of Clintonville continues. And who knows when or how it’ll end?

Decanus Returns – FROM THE DEAD!!! Claims Responsibility for the New North Korea

2012-03-04T08:31:03Z

The Fat Kid reporting. . . Port Columbus International Airport – Regular readers will recall that, after reportedly being smothered [to death “accidentally”] by an adult film star’s ass, Decanus Picto was sighted, first at a Turkish restaurant in Grove City, and then just days later he was photographed in North Korea, where he was being led around in what looked like a slightly less than voluntary way. While there were rumors that the always-mysterious Picto might have been the exiled son of Kim Jong-Il, and that North Koreans might have believed the same types of wacky things about him as they believe about their “Eternal President,” Kim Il-Sung, and his recently-deceased son, Kim Jong-Il, these have proven nothing but shameless frauds, trumped up by our informant, Kim Il-Smith, just to get twenty dollars from us [In an unrelated incident, Il-Smith has since been beaten up, and robbed of twenty dollars. – Ed.], and Decanus has safely returned to America. He landed at 3:20 this afternoon at Port Columbus International Airport, where he addressed the media – and BlueZer0 was there. The media fervor was created due to the fact that Picto’s visit commenced just three days before North Korea announced that it was willing to cease all nuclear weapons tests, shut down their uranium enrichment program, and allow UN and IAEA inspectors to monitor activities linked to these programs. While these two things may, under other circumstances, have seemed like coincidences, it is known that Picto spent his entire time in North Korea closeted with the country’s new leader, Kim Jong-un. This, of course, has led to speculation that Picto in fact negotiated the country’s peaceful new position in an effort to attract the attention of the electorate. Picto, claiming that he did in fact die under that Colombian whore’s ass. Though he was tired as fuck, and wanted to get out of that neighborhood because “they be trippin’ over here and shit," Decanus agreed to speak for a few minutes, though he declined to answer questions directly. My fellow Americans, I’m addressing you now because I know that some of you have heard rumors about my involvement with North Korea at this particularly sensitive time. Some of you have seen a picture released by Kwangmyong, and in this picture I was being led by heavily-armed security guards, wearing these funny Russian-looking hats. I’m also addressing you because I know that my funeral was international news, and that “the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated,” as a fine American humorist once said. So, I’ll address each of these issues in turn. First, with reference to my death, I’d just like to say that everything about my death and funeral reported by BlueZer0 was correct. That’s right. Once in a long while there are people who have risen from the grave. Jesus is the obvious example, but there are also people like Lazarus, Osiris, Adonis, Dionysus. You’ll notice a trend here – except Lazarus, who didn’t COME back, but was instead BROUGHT back – these are all classic slain-and-risen gods. They all follow the formula and are of ancient origin. And then on the end of the list. . . there’s me. You know, and I don’t mean to sound like Empedocles or anything, but uh. . . I’m just like them in a certain specific way. You can go ahead and infer whatever you want about that. But the fact is that I died under that whore’s ass. I was there, in that smotherbox, gasping for breath, and soon everything went dark. There was no more pressure. No more dolorous life. No more worries. No more pain. No more whore’s-ass taste in my mouth. Nothing. Just peace. And then suddenly there was a blinding light, and I went into that light. And there I had many experiences. I saw my whole life from start to finish, all at once. I saw and felt everything I did, but from the perspectives of the people whom my decisions affected. And I met people. Important people. And I was told things. I was given information. For three days I dwelt in the dimension of the dead, learning the secrets of the other side. After three days, I found myself awake in my coffin. It took me another three days to break through that lid, and claw my way up out of my grave. But once I did it, I felt like I had been reborn, and like I had a mission in this life. For three days I dwelt in the dimension of the dead, and for another three days I dwelt in the land of the dead. And now I have come back to the land of the living. And I will give you everything I have to give. And I have brought information and insight back to Earth. I’m here to impart that information specifically to the American people. And, of course, 2012 is the year for that. So, I made my way back from Colombia, and found myself in Grove City. And it was there that I learned what my mission was – to cut roasted meat off a spit. But when my peace was disturbed by that jack off and his wife with the wrist injury, I had a vision. As I ran out the back of that kabob place, I decided to get wasteder than a motherfucker. And that I did. I drank Wild Irish Rose until it actually tasted good. Yes, THAT much. And it was during that time that I realized that there were opportunities all around me. Opportunities to make the world a better place. But that if the world was under a nuclear threat, we couldn’t carry on in peace. So, the next day, I recovered from my liquor coma, and then the NEXT day, I flew to South Korea, and started making my way north. When I finally broke through the border and reached Pyongyang, I somehow knew that Kim Jong-un would see me. That he expected me to come, and that I could get right in. Some of you have seen that picture of me, and it did look like I was under a military threat, but there was nothing to it. It’s normal for security to be heightened when a foreigner of uncertain background enters the private rooms of a world leader, the leader of an unregulated nuclear state. And that’s especially so when a new leader has just taken office. But I was admitted to the chamber of Kim Jong-un, and after a brief discussion, in which I had related to him many things that I learned in the dimension of the dead, we had reached an agreement. And then we spent the rest of the weekend watching M*A*S*H on DVD. That’s a funny fucking show. I really dig it. But the point is this – my diplomacy wasn’t heroic. Or, I mean, it kind of was. It was kind of awesome, and un-freaking believable. But it wasn’t JUST heroic. It also demonstrates that I have a unique ability to negotiate with other cultures, even power-mad leaders of utterly insane nations. A proven ability to create peace in the world. I plan to use that ability. And, of course, 2012 is the year to do that. Thank you all very much. At this point, Decanus stepped away from the awed crowd and caught a cab back to Clintonville without saying another word. What did Picto mean when he compared himself to the slain-and-risen gods? Was he saying that he, too, is a god? And what did he learn in the dimension of the dead? Though we can only make inferences about that. However, it is obvious, even without his saying it directly, that Decanus plans to restart his POTUS campaign. Picto in 2012!

Picto Lives!!! But WHERE?

2012-02-26T05:21:49Z

The Fat Kid reporting. . . Pyongyang – Last week’s sighting of the so-called Pecanus Dicto may or may not have been real, but in any case Decanus Picto is back in the news. The Korean Central News Agency (KCNA) has released a single photograph of Picto arriving at the Kim Il-Sung Administrative Center. The picture is dated February 23rd, four days after Picto was sighted at Grove City’s now-famous Kabob Palace. Decanus Picto being escorted through customs by North Korean “greeters.” For those of you who don’t recall, this is a big deal because Decanus was reportedly smothered by a porn star’s ass in January of this year, while scoring a porno film in Bogotá, Colombia. A screen shot of the film that Decanus scored during his trip to Bogotá, showing his on-screen credit. It. . . doesn’t look good. I’m gonna go ahead and not watch it. Thanks all the same, though. Word on what Picto is doing in North Korea is. . . fuzzy. An article on Kwangmyong claims that Picto traveled to North Korea to experience one of the unusually mild winters that Kim Jong-Il added to the country’s weather system in 1999. Though Kim Jong-Il died in December, 2011, Decanus’ coming was foretold by a starling in 2010, Kwangmyong reports, so the great leader, son of their “eternal president,” had enough time to arrange for pleasant weather at the time of Picto’s arrival. Kwangmyong aside, among BlueZer0’s informants are several North Korean defectors who came to this country to buy fabulously cheap bootleg DVDs from some Nigerians that hang around by Nationwide Plaza. One such defector whose name is – you guessed it – Kim, told BlueZer0 that there is a more sinister purpose to Decanus’ trip to Korea, and that it may not have been altogether voluntary. The otherwise anonymous Kim spoke with me briefly today. “Koreans in the north are force-fed propaganda all their lives, and they are made to believe what is untrue,” he said. “They are told in elementary school that North Korea is the greatest country in the world. But the dictatorship runs on a ‘Cult of Personality,’ where they are made to believe their leaders are almost gods. They are told that Kim Il-Sung created the world – and some of them actually believe that. They used to believe that Kim Jong-Il could control the weather. And some of these same people have gotten around the boundaries of Kwangmyong using cell phones and dial-up modems, and have become BlueZer0 readers. And they have come to believe similarly strange things about Decanus Picto. They believe he has certain powers that mortals do not have. And some of them believe he has a secret connection to Korea. That he was sent away from here as a child, for his own safety.” Kim would not comment any further, however, his allusions are very interesting. Those of you who frequent the site will recall that Decanus’ place of origin was under dispute in his obituary. Our film-loving defector/informant seems to be implying that Decanus may have been born in North Korea, and sent away as a child to foil would-be assassins who may have plotted to kill him. But why would they do that? The only other North Korean I can think of who was sent away in this manner is Kim Jong-Il himself, whose father was the North’s “eternal president” Kim Il-Sung. Is Picto actually an Il (or how ever you figure Korean surnames)? Have the North Koreans called him home to fulfill his destiny as Supreme Leader, and to show Kim Jong-Un the door, and possibly the GRAVE? CHECK BACK FOR UPDATES!!!!!!!!!

Decanus Alive? Elvis-style Rumors Spread Through Ohio

2012-02-19T05:09:40Z

The Fat Kid reporting. . . Grove City – A crowd has formed outside the famous Kabob Palace Turkish restaurant and bar, but not because the people of Ohio love Turkish-style lamb. Instead, they’re here because some jack off claims to have sighted Decanus Picto in the back, slicing meat off a rotating spit. Yeah. That’s why I had to take a bus all the way to Grove City. Some guy and his wife claim Picto is alive. Grove City’s famous Kabob Palace, where Picto was allegedly sighted by a drunken jerk off. [Reports indicate that he was actually a jack off – ed.] Though sightings of dead celebrities such as Elvis and JFK were once common, the era of grainy photos and tabloid journalism are over, and Elvis sightings have been relegated to websites of almost Angelfire-esque or Tripod-ean shittiness. The sighting in Grove City has caused quite a stir anyway, though, because a quick customer, John Offerman, managed to get a slightly-less-grainy-than-expected picture of Picto with his iPhone 4S, which is totally badass and I want one. Also, the alleged Picto made some very strange statements before he escaped the establishment. An iPhone photo of the Turk who is allegedly Picto, without his crazy kill-the-infidels headscarf/wrap/turban thingy. Said Mr. Offerman, “At first, you know, he looked just like some regular Middle Eastern dude with one of those big turbans on. But not like the Indian turbans where it’s just like a hat, but like the turbans from the violent part of the Middle East, where they got the, like, mask part of it that covers the mouth and stuff. He looked like that.” Mr. Offerman went on to explain that the loose end of the turban got caught on the rotating spit, which ripped the whole thing off. “I was just looking down at my bomb-ass iPhone. You know, I wasn’t really doing anything, I was just pretending to text, and trying to avoid eye contact with anyone that had one of those crazy kill-the-infidels hats on, but then my wife started tugging on my shirt sleeve and going, ‘Jack, look, Jack, look!’ So, I sort of looked up a little bit, and the turban was getting wrapped around the spit thing. At first he was trying to fight it, but it didn’t help, it just got more tangled, and then it came off and fell right on the floor. And then there he was – it was definitely Picto. No doubt.” As the crowd started to realize it was looking at a person who very closely resembled the recently deceased musician, they started to push back behind the counter and close in on him. Mrs. Offerman said, “Picto started backing away like he was scared, even though he had that big meat knife in his hand. I said, ‘You’re him, you’re Picto,’ and he said, ‘No, I’m not Decanus. He’s dead. I’m somebody else. I’m his identical cousin, Pecanus Dicto.’ And then he ran off. Right out the back door. It’s pretty fucked up that he’d lie to our faces like that. And he didn’t even sign my copy of An Electronic Soundtrack for the End Times. I guess he thinks he’s too good to mix with his fans.” Mrs. Offerman declined to be interviewed further as the arthritis in her wrist was acting up, and she wanted to get home to Hyannis Port as soon as possible, but she stressed that she was certain it was Picto. Identical cousins, while rare, are known to occur in select locales throughout the world, such as Zanzibar, Tanzania and Brooklyn Heights, New York. However, having checked with whatever stats-keeping government agency a person would consult on such a matter, I can confirm that zero cases of identical cousins have been reported in Ohio. Further, I have checked with the same types of agencies in all the places Decanus was reportedly possibly born (as per his obit) – Germany, New Jersey, California, and the Philippines – and none of those locales have any cases either, making it look highly unlikely that Decanus actually has an identical cousin. It goes without saying that the always-mysterious Picto never said anything about having an identical cousin – or family members of any kind – but that’s no evidence, as he keeps personal information to himself. Regardless, it seems to me much more likely that we’re simply dealing with a person who looks like Picto. However, reason never stopped rumors from spreading, and that’s exactly what they’re doing all over central Ohio.

Email From Longtime BZ Reader Chris J!

2012-02-12T05:06:14Z

Clintonville – The staff at BlueZer0.net really does enjoy reading the feedback we get from our fans. Since The Fat Kid is away on special assignment this week [Editor's note: He was last heard from muttering something about "a deceitful, bushy mustached bastard" and "halal food."], we've decided to share some of that feedback from one of our loyal readers. Chris J, seen here enjoying his favorite fruity drink, has something to say. Email 1 [First Contact]: ____________________________________________________________________________________ Subject: Wanted: Staff Cryptozoologist From: Chris J ▆▆▆▆@yahoo.com Date: August 15, 2010 1:09:37 AM EDT To: BZ Staff sexcult@bluezer0.net ____________________________________________________________________________________ Wondering need any fooyimasilogical persons. ____________________________________________________________________________________ Email 2: _____________________________________________________________________________________ Subject: Re: Bluezer0.net Update: BZ House Band Contest Begins Date: Fri, 17 Jun 2011 06:04:32 -0400 From: Chris J ▆▆▆▆@yahoo.com To: BZ Staff sexcult@bluezer0.net _____________________________________________________________________________________ leave me alone or I w kill u. _____________________________________________________________________________________ Email 3: _____________________________________________________________________________________ Subject: Re: Bluezer0.net Update: The Divine Revelations of Danu Date: Sun, 17 Jul 2011 16:51:07 -0400 From: Chris J ▆▆▆▆@yahoo.com To: BZ Staff sexcult@bluezer0.net _____________________________________________________________________________________ Die _____________________________________________________________________________________ Email 4 [A Thank You To Him]: _____________________________________________________________________________________ From: BZ Staff sexcult@bluezer0.net Date: August 15, 2011 2:30:59 AM EDT To: Chris J ▆▆▆▆@yahoo.com Subject: BZ And You! _____________________________________________________________________________________ Dear BlueZer0 Reader, We are grateful that you took the time to respond to some of our article notifications. It is the acknowledgment of our work by loyal readers like you that makes our BZ experience even more fun! -BZ Staff _____________________________________________________________________________________ Email 5: _____________________________________________________________________________________ Subject: Re: Bluezer0.net Update: I'm Stuck in Franklin County Correctional Center, and Time Keeps Dragging On. . . Date: Mon, 26 Dec 2011 04:34:08 -0800 (PST) From: Chris J ▆▆▆▆@yahoo.com To: BZ Staff sexcult@bluezer0.net _____________________________________________________________________________________ Dum ass you see petty shit got u a mini stint every 3 months you end up in the local jail for some minor shit trying to prove your this big house criminal. Buncha bad tats all hard west side  U cost me more money in taxes every year. Go do somthing Big be a real thug then you go to the big house them niggas will eat you to pieces. Fuckin princes. Call your mommy make her suffer to spring your Dum ass so you can break another car window out and cost us all money again . Think about that Liszt boy. Remember real criminals don't get to harass people on the web they don't have computer day _____________________________________________________________________________________ Email 6: _____________________________________________________________________________________ Subject: Re: Bluezer0.net Update: An Open Letter from Danu, the Goddess of Big-Ass Rocks (So LISTEN UP!!!!) Date: Sun, 8 Jan 2012 15:54:12 -0800 (PST) From: Chris J ▆▆▆▆@yahoo.com To: BZ Staff sexcult@bluezer0.net _____________________________________________________________________________________ The good news is I found you yes your ip adress I saw where you stole my email adress from Craigslist. I have an adress conected to you I've been watching you and now I'm thinking what to do I would turn you in but the dumb nigger has no laws in place for you this means I have to handle you this is a warning run run for your destiny I'm lurking in the dark waiting to strike I believe people that distribute porn should pay for there sins my brother I will fix your sinister filthy habbits, I have the law for you ... see you soon _____________________________________________________________________________________ -Pimples Malone

The Shadow Will Not Face Charges!

2012-02-05T16:47:03Z

The Fat Kid reporting. . . Columbus – The Shadow was last seen running through people’s backyards in Clintonville. Or at least that’s where he was last seen before I dimed him out to the cops and showed them where he went into the woods in Whetstone park, and they got their dogs to track him down and subdue him. After that he was last seen in a jail cell, again awaiting an arraignment hearing in Columbus criminal court. And then finally they tried to arraign him. Tried, but failed. The Shadow, seen here leaving court in his monkey suit. You get it? You see what I did there? Huh? Huh? Anyway, this is The Shadow, being led out of court just prior to his relocation to the woods of – you guessed it – Clintonville. During the hearing, prosecutors contended that Shadow Humperdink was in possession of a schedule I narcotic with intent to distribute. However, The Shadow, serving as his own lawyer, mounted a spectacular defense. He began by pointing out that the prosecution could not establish chain of custody of the weed, and asked to have the evidence declared inadmissible. When the honorable Judge Adam Keefe Horovitz refused to make that declaration, The Shadow deployed his greatest rhetorical gambit to date, arguing that since he was technically not a human being he couldn’t be charged with crimes under any federal or state law. “You can’t charge a dog or cat or goat or deer or any other animal on the Earth for any kind of crime whatsoever,” The Shadow said. “Why, then, should I, as a Sasquatch who enjoys none of the rights and privileges of humanity, be subject to fucktarded laws meant to govern only humans? Bears, cougars, and wolves kill livestock all the time, but no one tries to put them in jail. Weasels sell crank door-to-door here in the Midwest, but no one tries to put them in jail. Guinea pigs commit extortion, but no one tries to put them in jail. Every sparrow any of us has ever seen has committed wire fraud, and is guilty of insider trading, but no one tries to put them in jail – and they don’t even try to hide it, the gutsy bastards. So, how can I be charged with a crime? It’s not fair, it’s not right, it’s unconstitutional, and it shouldn’t be allowed. I should be relocated to a wooded area further away from the city. I’m not asking for special treatment – this is the same courtesy the court would extend an over-excited beaver that built a dam on Fourth Street, or a super-pissed Godzilla that destroyed a major metropolitan area. You’d take the beaver back to the river. You’d take the Godzilla back to the Pacific. So, take the Sasquatch back to the woods. It’s the only right thing to do.” This defense stunned prosecutors who, after a brief recess, argued that because The Shadow is a sentient being who possesses the ability to speak, think, and reason, he should be considered a de facto human for legal purposes. They argued further that The Shadow does in fact enjoy all the rights and privileges of humanity, as demonstrated by the fact that he received welfare for seven years, owned a home, got a permit to build a particle collider, and has received tax returns for the past six years. Judge Horovitz asked whether counsel could cite precedent. Assistant D.A. Lars Frederiksen cited The State of Minnesota vs. Bullwinkle J. Moose, in which case Moose was forced to surrender his entire upsidaisium mine to the state as reparations for destroying property in the cities of Upsala, Watertown, Trout Lake, and Frostbite Falls during a prolonged drunk-driving incident. Asked to respond, The Shadow maintained that he didn’t understand the charges being brought against him, and asked the court for permission to go outside and eat some bark off the sycamore in front of the courthouse. After a twenty minute recess, during which The Shadow ate an awful lot of sycamore bark, judge Horovitz gave the following ruling: “I find that the defendant, Shadow Humperdink, Esq., cannot be charged as a person, and therefore cannot be incarcerated. He is to be relocated in a wooded area of his choice, as long as it is outside Franklin Township. However, Mr. Shadow, I also find that because you are, by your own admission, an animal, any further trouble you cause may be dealt with severely. When an animal wanders into a city and starts selling weed, the animal may be relocated. However, when an animal becomes a repeated nuisance, it may be ‘put down’ – with a rifle shot to the head. As this is not your first brush with the law, be warned.” With that, the case was dismissed, and The Shadow was led out of court – wearing a shit-eating grin all the while. Within an hour it was decided that The Shadow would be relocated to the woods in Clinton Township – that is to say, Clintonville. He rode shotgun in the animal control truck, as they cruised up High Street to Whetstone Park. Though The Shadow disappeared into the woods almost immediately, rumors floating around Clintonville have it that he made his way to the goddess Danu’s apartment, and after several minutes of pounding on the door and whispering into the crack, she let him in. Will the goddess take him back? Only The Shadow knows! Or, well, I guess Danu knows, too. But whatever.