Bluezer0.net

#NomieVision: The Decanus Picto Interview!

2010-03-01T20:23:34Z

Meet Nomie Homie. Host of #NomieVision on www.twitter.com. A somewhat daily, real time, running commentary on her favorite TV shows. Recently, shortly before one of her commentary filled tweet sessions, she took time to interview presidential candidate Decanus Picto. Since some of you may have missed it the first time on Twitter, here's your second chance. . . NH: Hello, welcome to #NomieVision (The Special Edition). A twitter interview show. I'm your host @NomieHomie. My next guest lives in Ohio and he's an internet celebrity, UFO abductee and now, if that's not enough to tweet about... ... a presidential candidate. Welcome @Decanus. DP: Thank you @NomieHomie for inviting me. NH: So you're running for president because you believe the world is going to end in 2012. That doesn't make sense does it? DP: Yes I am because like Neo, I don't believe in fate. I like to believe I'm in control of my life. I have a good plan for many of us to survive the apocalypse. Your followers can read about that plan on www.decanuspicto.com NH: Sure, whatever. You're a survivor. I understand your plan has four basic points. DP: Yup. 1. Become President. 2. Create a government sponsored jobs program for the young men and women hardest hit by this terrible recession... ...and have them work old mines building a vast civilization inside of them. 3. Party and have fun until the shit comes down. 4. Go down into the new underground cities and escape all of the bad shit. NH: Jobs program? You described it as "White slavery" in your speech. DP: Well, that was just me connecting with the people. Using a language that gets attention. They're living in a world that is saturated with txt and sms and tweets and stuff. I needed to use phrases that stand out, so they'll listen. NH: There have been claims of plagiarism surrounding your announcement speech. You stole your doomsday mineshaft idea from Stanley Kubrick didn't you? DP: What? You think because Biden is carrying water for Obama now Joe's speech writers are working for me? NH: No, that's not what I'm asking you. DP: Look, Kubrick and his collaborators are geniuses like me and my Picto '12 team. The evolutionary convergence of ideas by those with foresight isn't plagiarism. There are only so many words to use when describing stuff. It's gonna happen. NH: Ok, lets move on... You've promised to have this up and running before "the shit comes down" on 12/21/2012. But, you won't take office until 2013. So how are you going to get this done? DP: Well, it's simple really. I will be elected with a mandate from the people. Like Obama, I'll use the people's mandate to start calling the shots right after election day. Showing up at the White House pointing my finger at stuff for the cameras and signing President-elect orders. Lame duck Obama will have to follow them if he wants to move into one of our underground hizzles. NH: Just like that? DP: Yup. NH: Well, ok, there you have it. His plan. Thank you for tweeting with us @Decanus. DP: Uh, but we didn't talk about my spacemusic album. It'll be out late spring. NH: Sorry, The Jerry Springer Show is about to start. Give my producer the details. Next time on #NomieVision (The Special Edition), roller derby babes! Tweet you then. -Pimples Malone

Campaign Trail Update!

2010-01-24T19:16:10Z

The Fat Kid reporting. . . Pennsville, NJ – As Decanus’s campaign manager, I have too many duties to spend much time posting updates, however; be informed that things are going extremely well. The Pictish One has spoken with large audiences in cities far and wide, including glamorous Camden, NJ; Pensauken, NJ; Philadelphia, PA; New Castle, DE; Bear, DE; Elkton, MD; Pittsburgh, PA; Columbus, Ohio, and other illustrious cities and towns across our great nation. At the moment, the Decanus Picto for President Campaign is drumming up support at Pennsville, New Jersey’s famous gentlemen’s club, Melon Shakers, where Decanus spoke to four different super-hot chicks, at least one of whom may have signed up to be part of Decanus’s Legion of Hot Babes for a Better Doomsday and Post-Apocalyptic Future. Decanus, with new Legion of Hot Babes for a Better Doomsday and Post-Apocalyptic Future member, Tanqueray. Are you a super-hot chick? Want to join the Legion of Hot Babes for a Better Doomsday and Post-Apocalyptic Future? Send your picture with Decanus, or your picture of yourself with your Decanus Picto Print-it-Yourself Bumper Sticker-Type Thing, to the recruitment office.

The Fall Of Buckalew Palace (the movie)

2010-01-19T23:33:09Z

Waterford Estates -- November 30, 2009: A date still so shockingly painful, those of us in the know of the events of that day just can't find the words. So, to clue you all in on the importance and relevance of this film, borrowed are these words from The Golden Bough, by Sir James George Frazer, "...for like the great majority of mankind the savage is above being hidebound by the trammels of a pedantic logic. In attempting to track his devious thought through the jungle of crass ignorance and blind fear, we must always remember that we are treading enchanted ground, and must beware of taking for solid realities the cloudy shapes that cross our path or hover and gibber at us through the gloom. We can never completely replace ourselves at the standpoint of primitive man, see things with his eyes, and feel our hearts beat with the emotions that stirred his. All our theories concerning him and his ways must therefore fall far short of certainty; the utmost we can aspire to in such matters is a reasonable degree of probability." -Pimples Malone

Decanus Replies (sort of)!

2009-12-30T18:53:42Z

The Fat Kid reporting. . . Clintonville – When “Big Gunny Wayne” sent his latest big-wordy email (a word of advice: big [and/or misused] words do not equal good writing), Decanus was off on the long and dusty campaign trail, and could not be bothered to answer. However, having arrived back in Ohio, bearing many exclusively Philadelphian treats (do you even know what a Wawa is?), he has taken four minutes to reply. With his thumbs. Picto '12 issued staff wireless communication apparatus (File Photo) He has done so, thus: You again? I’m trying to eat my Iladelph-Style (go Iggles!) convenience-store lunch. All right. Look, dude, I have a thesaurus, too, but it’s on my Mac, which is not in the car with me, so I’mna hafta improvise. So bear with me. I know you conservative types like a lot of high-fructose, partially-hydrogenated attention for your silliness, but I don’t appreciate your riboflavin all up in my Yellow #6, and Red #4. It really messes up my turmeric color and artificial flavors, which affects my flavonoid content in a serious way. If you are dissatisfied in any way with this product, we will replace it or refund your money. Send receipt and proof of purchase to: Tasty Baking Company Navy Yard Corporate Center Three Crescent Drive, Suite 200 Philadelphia, PA 19112 (215) 221-XXXX Sent from my Vagina Wireless Backblerry. [Edited for spelling, punctuation, links, and phone numbers by: The Fat Kid, in association with the Decanus for President 2012 Campaign.] [Picture added by meddlers from the Bluezer0.net Image and Graphics Desk]

He's Back! More From BZ's Favorite Hater!

2009-12-22T19:26:39Z

Clintonville -- Big Gunny Wayne gets tough with Decanus Picto and BZ in a new email. The last time his hate letter was so special we had to post it and now it seems we are expected to again. So here's the latest. . . To Whom It Should Concern, For too long I've kept my silence after Decanus Picto announced he wanted to destroy our nation with his run for our highest political office. I offer this letter as a kind of medicine, an elixir if you will, to remedy the potions of lies that induce mindless drone sleep found permeating the shenanigans of Decanus and his hired hacks at BlueZer0.net. Within the deleterious milieu of wowserism exists the opportunity for Decanus to enshrine irrational fears and fancies as truth. But even if we disregard that and examine only his irrational apologues, this seems to me to be enough to show that every time he tries, Decanus gets increasingly brazen in his attempts to control what we believe. Decanus and his speech writing plagiarists do not want to rewrite history to reflect or magnify an imaginary "victimhood" in our future because they are conniving, dastardly, hypersensitive, and prurient (though, granted, they're all of the aforementioned) but rather because they are also sophomoric louts! In the end, this pack of charlatans mock our morality solely to shift attention away from their many vices. Creating this Vote Picto '12 campaign of mockery of the values we hold dear is the straw that breaks the camel's back. What you the awakened and concerned reader should do now is join in condemnation of this website of rudeness, ranker and heresy. Use every medium available to you. Use the Internet. Use your telephone. Use radio and newspapers. And whatever you do, never be afraid to speak out against the evil that is Decanus Picto and BlueZer0.net. In harm's way, Big Gunny Wayne

UFOs Over Arlington!!! (Again)

2009-10-22T20:17:51Z

The Shadow reporting. . . Upper Arlington – While the rest of you dipshits were watching for a new report on Decanus’s presidential run, I was out doing the real reporting. Not relying on other people’s work, but actually gathering information, and being out in the field. Really super late at night. Walking through my girlfriend’s neighborhood. Which also happens to be my weed dealer’s neighborhood. But that’s also the field. And I wasn’t holding, so there’s nothing you can do about it. And anyway, nobody saw me, or nobody that’ll talk, so go to hell. Cop. This video shows what The Shadow claims was a massive cruciform UFO, flying over the Upper Arlington neighborhood of Columbus, Ohio. Anyway, as I was walking along, totally doing nothing wrong – and I’ll deny it if you say I did – I happened to look up and saw a giant cruciform UFO headed west. By the time I got my video camera set up, the plane had started slowly to bank south, but the result is the same – strange lights in the skies over Upper Arlington. The sighting was less than half a mile from the new/old Upper Arlington monument. Having been witness to many such astonishing events before, I, as usual, knew what to do, and have already formulated a surveillance schedule to try to see whether there is a detectable pattern of sightings or appearances. So, that’s why I’ll be around my girlfriend and weed dealer’s neighborhood late at night off and on for the rest of the Fall – I’m looking for UFOs. And nothing else. Certainly not any sticky icky icky, because that stuff’s bad. Fall being a season of intense labor for certain sasquatchoid fat persons such as myself, the surveillance may be somewhat spotty and off-schedule at first, however; I will get a handle on the situation and report back ASAP. Check back for updates!!!! Also, go Phils!

Decanus on the Campaign Trail

2009-09-18T03:49:21Z

The Fat Kid reporting. . . Dover – Decanus Picto, 2012 presidential election frontrunner, has taken to the campaign trail to drum up support for his election, and to get young people from all over the country to sign up for their chance to be a Decanus Picto 2012 Mine Slave. Decanus Picto, pictured here in front of Helen’s Famous Sausage House in Dover, Delaware, which is the preferred suicide spot for many world-weary Delawareans. Decanus’s first stop was in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where he delivered a message of hopelessness to Pittsburgheans. “People of Pittsburgh,” he said to no one in particular, “I know you think I’m just some weirdo ranting on a street corner, handing out poorly Xeroxed literature. But I assure you that I am the real prophet of doom. The end begins in 2012. Troy Polamalu is dead. I know they told you it was a knee injury. He actually had a heart attack, and is dead. Also, the Pirates slurp on nut sacks, and always will. They will one day surpass the Phillies in losses. When the shit comes down, only the elite among you will be spared, and allowed to live in my mine. But the rest of you still qualify as mine slaves. So abandon all hope, and sign up.” Decanus’s next stop was supposed to be Philadelphia, but because of the state legislature’s failure to pass a budget, security was somewhat sketchy, and he chose to move on without stopping. Late last night, he found himself at Helen’s Famous Sausage House, located in redneck-infested Dover, Delaware, where he addressed the lone trucker in the parking lot. “President Obama wants to waste your tax money on a missile defense system, designed to intercept ICBMs from Iran. But what about those that’ll come from North Korea? What about those that’ll come from Russia? And what good is missile defense when your cities are buried under hundreds of feet of water due to the rising sea-levels? You will all die unless you join me.” The trucker by the side of the road, who was asleep in his truck, did not respond. “This place looks familiar,” Decanus said to one of his aides. “Where are we?” When informed that he was in Delaware, he simply said, “Not for long,” got in his campaign Jeep, and was out 5000-style.

Decanus Addresses the Kiddies

2009-09-10T20:06:03Z

The Fat Kid reporting. . . Clintonville – Independent 2012 presidential candidate Decanus Picto held another press conference Wednesday, in the famous Back Parking Lot Event Center and Pavilion. The press release announcing the conference described it as a rebuttal to President Obama’s recent back to school speech in which he addressed the nation’s children. Pages two and three of Decanus Picto’s seven-page press release. They are mostly illegible. The same three members of the press – representatives from BlueZer0, The Weekly World News, and Fox News – arrived for this conference, and Decanus began his address to the mini-crowd, meant to be conveyed by us to the nation’s high school students, or any students who will be at least 18 years old by 11/06/2012. So, you know, please take notes from the text below. Good morning, students. Or, like, afternoon. You know, whatever time it is now. I forget because, like, I had planned to get up super-early for this press conference – you know, at like 10:30 – but then I slept through my alarm clock, and then by the time I got up it was like 11:45 and I was still in my boxers. And then I remembered I was supposed to be out here doing this press conference thing, and, you know. I strapped my boots on, and here I am. I’ll bet a lot of you students recognize yourselves in that little anecdote about my morning. And that’s what I’m here to talk with you about. The other day, on what was probably your first day of school, our super-hot president, Barack Obama, addressed you all in a really inspiring way. He told you a lot of bullshit about what you can achieve, and gave you all a lot of orders about what you have to do, and so on and so on, and I just wanted to address a couple of the things he said. I want to talk to you in realistic terms about your future, and what the reality of life is. President Obama said, “Every single one of you has something you’re good at. Every single one of you has something to offer.” But do you really? I mean, how many of you spent the entire summer playing Madden, and getting trashed off Listerine? Yeah. That shit’s wicked, right? Whooo! But I’m saying, though, how many of you did that all fucking summer? Most of you, right? You think those are marketable skills? You think you can put that you were undefeated at Madden for the first three games you played this summer? You think you can put that on a job application? No, obviously not. What else do you have to offer? President Obama says that you might not know right now. President Obama says, “Maybe you could be a good writer – maybe even good enough to write a book or articles in a newspaper – but you might not know it until you write a paper for your English class.” Please. How many of you really think you can do that? Do you really think you can remember where all those confusing commas and colons and whatnot go? Well, let me tell you this – I’m like twice or three times or four times as old as you, and I can’t remember that shit. President Obama says, “Maybe you could be an innovator or an inventor – maybe even good enough to come up with the next iPhone or a new medicine or vaccine – but you might not know it until you do a project for your science class.” Please. You can’t even figure out how to use an iPhone. And your “science” project is going to be the same as everyone else’s – that fucking papier mache volcano with the baking soda and vinegar for lava. President Obama says, “Maybe you could be a mayor or a Senator or a Supreme Court Justice.” Well, obviously. All you have to do there is give your mistress a good spanking. Some frrrrreak bitches really like that shit. Frrrrreakpublicans really like that shit, too. But do you really want to be that guy? Or do you want to be the hypocrite asshole who has a whole sham marriage and then gets embarrassed in the media when it turns out that he’s gay, or when it turns out that he’s drilling prostitutes, or that he’s on crack? No. You want to drill prostitutes and smoke crack in private, like a regular American. And what about the girls? This all has been geared toward guys, but I’m saying, what are you girls going to do with yourselves? In this country they don’t train women to do anything but apply glitter and make themselves throw up. And unless you’re super hot, you can’t fall back on stripping. What, are you going to marry one of these jerks sitting next to you playing PSP, who’s not even really listening right now, and hope that he won’t beat you, or that he can hold a job? Well, let me tell you this – he will, and he can’t. And don’t you forget it. You want to be a secretary, wind up your boss’s mistress, and then be out of a job when his wife finds him out? Well, I say, fuck that. That’s my new campaign slogan, Fuck That. All these alternatives for all you young men and women are bullshit. President Obama says, “No one’s born being good at things, you become good at things through hard work.” What do we say? Fuck That. President Obama says, “I know that sometimes, you get the sense from TV that you can be rich and successful without any hard work – that your ticket to success is through rapping or basketball or being a reality TV star, when chances are, you’re not going to be any of those things. But the truth is, being successful is hard.” What do we say? Fuck That. President Obama says that, “no matter what you want to do with your life – I guarantee that you’ll need an education to do it. You want to be a doctor, or a teacher, or a police officer? You want to be a nurse or an architect, a lawyer or a member of our military? You’re going to need a good education for every single one of those careers. You can’t drop out of school and just drop into a good job.” What do we say? We say, Fuck That. Yes we can. You know how you can drop into a good job? I’ll tell you. And the best thing about it? It’s easy. A couple weeks ago, I dunno how long, I addressed your parents about a plan for your future. I mean, not really your parents, but the parents of people several socio-economic classes above you. And it wasn’t really your future, either, it was the future of people several socio-economic classes above you. But don’t worry about that. The point here is that in Decanus Picto’s America, there is a future for the Madden-playing, glitter-applying, getting-fired-from-cashier-job, dead-end people like you. I have a plan, and it includes you. My plan is the people’s plan. President Obama said you should stay in school. He said you should work hard and try to be something. But that’s all boring and shit. Can working hard in school compare to when you’re playing Madden and you make one of those Bob Sanders or Brian Dawkins hits, and wreck the other team’s ball-carrier? Can it compare to applying glitter to your tits, and then taking pictures of yourself that accentuate your tits but conceal how fat you are below them, so you can post them on the internet and masquerade as a hot chick? No. And you can do those things. Er, keep doing them. How? You ask. Well here’s how: slavery. Now, when you hear the word slavery you probably think about some boring-ass history class and, like, farms, and black people, and whatever. But that’s not the slavery I’m talking about. I’m talking about new, modern day, white slavery. And here’s how it works: You sign up to be a Decanus Picto 2012 Mine Slave. And then you do whatever you want. You take those pics, drink that Listerine, drop the fuck out, just chill til the next episode. Then later some junk happens about a mine, but that’s like a long-ass way away, like four years or something. In the meantime you can do anything that you want while leaching off your parents, or if things get bad and they throw you out, you can get on public assistance. It’s only for a couple of years until I’m elected, and my slavery program begins. Did they tell you in school that slavery was bad or something like that? Fuck That. If you listened to everything they told you in school, you’d be a moron. George Washington and wooden teeth and cherry trees? All that’s a myth. What’s the slavery program like? I’ll tell you. For the guys it’ll be a great adventure. First, you’ll get to go and live in a barracks. What’s that like? It’s like where soldiers sleep in boot camp. You know, rows of beds and stuff. Or like where college kids sleep. But there are no shitty, early-morning exercises, and no boring, difficult classes to attend. So, it’s like college or the military, but only the good parts. That’s awesome, right? What do you do all day? Mining. Mining is the most awesome, under-rated job on the earth. First, you get to go way, way, way down a mineshaft in the dark, and you get your very own carbide-tipped drill. Fuck yeah, right? Then you get to drill your way through rocks and shit and carve out a big-ass cavern. That’s cool, right? It’s like a first-person shooter, except instead of shooting monsters or zombies or something, you’re drilling through rocks and stuff. And then you have to load them into this elevator thing and remove them from the shaft. But other than that, it’s just like a first-person shooter, except you’re the star! TV promised you success and unlimited firepower, right? I’m delivering on that promise. For the ladies, slavery is different, but it’s cake – literally. For the ladies, it’s like you’re all starring in your very own reality show! How awesome is that? You get to live in a barracks, too, except there are cameras every-fucking-where. Web-cams, TV cameras, random dudes rolling through taking digital footage from hand-helds – you’ll have all the attention your fathers never gave you! And then you just chill with your girlfriends and do whatever and have close relationships, and hug each other, and there’ll be free make-up and slutty clothes! Meanwhile, the footage that we shoot will be burned to DVD, available for download from a whole network of websites, and streaming live through webcams, sales from which will be in the millions, and finance this whole operation – and you will be instant superstars. Each and every one of you. And what will you do all day? Well, nothing, really. Essentially, you’ll be like a 1950s housewife. The guys’ll be doing all the work. You get to stay home. You just have to keep house, though. You know cook and stuff – occasionally hook up a cake – and then sometimes you’ll have to serve as what miners call the canary, but don’t worry about that. Mostly it’s cavorting half-naked with your girlfriends, and some cooking and cleaning stuff – no big deal – and then sometimes like sending water or whatever down the shaft for the guys. Who, by the way, will pay lots of attention to you. They’ll actually die of hunger or thirst if they don’t, so you’re guaranteed some action! And how long do you have to do this for? Not even long enough for it to get boring. As soon as the mine is completely drilled out, those of you who survive the ordeal get to go back into the world, as superstars. The guys’ll be revered, like football players, and will have instant street-cred anywhere they go. And the girls’ll be much-photographed internet and DVD celebrities, just like the Olsen Twins [it was just too easy to insert a joke link here – Ed.]. What could be better than this? What could be easier, more satisfying, more fulfilling, more lucrative than this? You say the world isn’t perfect, and that life is hard? Decanus Picto says Fuck That!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And let me address a little rumor spread by some dumb-asses. Some of you may have heard that the end of the world will begin in 2012, and that by the time you get out of the mines or whatever, the nuclear wars and natural disasters will be fully under way, and you’ll all die, and stupid shit like that. Nah, dude. Don’t worry about that. That’s some ol’ bullshit. They don’t know nothin’. Remember kids: sign up to be a Decanus Picto 2012 Mine Slave, and then drop the fuck out! That’s all you have to do. President Obama says to work hard? I say, yeah, work hard at playing Madden!

Jerk-Offs Gaffle The Fat Cycle!!!!!

2009-09-04T06:22:54Z

The Shadow reporting. . . Upper Arlington – After BZ’s semi-exclusive coverage of the Decanus for President press conference, BZ’s fattest employee made his way home on the Fat Cycle, locked it up, and then rested for seven hours. Unbeknownst to him, there were spies all around. The Fat Cycle. This is the only picture we have, and the only picture we ever shall have, because somebody has ganked the bike. After having borrowed said cycle to race back to the scene of the saucer recovery at Third Avenue, I got sort of lazy, and instead of rolling through the forest trails on foot as I used to, I had taken to borrowing that fat fucker’s bike to get places. This afternoon, when I went to The Fat Cave to borrow it once more, we walked out to the bike rack and it was gone. This old-school footage of The Shadow rolling through the woods is here because we didn’t want to take a picture of the spot on the bike rack from which The Fat Cycle had been gaffled. You know, ‘cause that spot’s empty now, and there’s nothing there. It appears that members of opposing parties were spying on The Fat Kid’s super-fat ass, and once he was inside, they came back with bolt cutters. The members of said parties must have forgotten which one was The Fat Kid’s, because they took everything that was protected with anything less than the mighty Master© U-Lock. Apparently democrats and/or republicans are inveterate bike thieves, because he had a keyed cable on there, and they cut right through that jaunz. There were only four bikes left on the whole rack. (Seriously, bikes with u-locks were the only ones left – let that be a lesson to you.) Police were called, but they didn’t give a shit. I mean, I don’t blame them, I’m just saying they aren’t concerned with bikes.

Spot the Gray, Episode 3: Revenge of the Jaredians

2009-08-30T04:49:04Z

After two false starts with the BZ Staff’s favorite feature, Spot the Gray, we’ve decided that we just don’t care whether people like it or not, because it makes us snicker. So, without further ado, we bring you Spot the Gray 3. Our subject this week is a familiar face from the dark Delaware days, our pal and non compos mentis conspiracy insider, Jared. We chose Jared because the innuendo in part deux of the Interview with the Alien was pretty heavy handed, giving the impression that Jared is in fact one of these parasitic grays, or at least is the host for the particular gray that lives in Jared’s tool shed. So, we decided that it was important to submit photos of the man himself to scrutiny, and determine once and for all whether the he was man, or gray. Keeping in mind the guidelines given to The Shadow, we submit to you, the BZ audience (and staff), the following several pictures. Gray, or not gray? Internet moles have recently provided us with this close-up of the J man. Can you see the gray in there? This, of course, is everyone’s favorite artistic pic of Jared, entitled, A-hyuk. This is Jared’s famous self portrait, which is known in the art community as the gay Jesus pic.

BlueZer0.net’s Lexicon Of Terms (updated)!

2009-08-27T05:06:44Z

BZ Staff. . . Are you having trouble understanding the terminology used at BlueZer0.net? Do you find yourself "put off" by our use of new and big words and cleverly discriptive phrasing? Well, we want to help by enhancing your understanding and adding to your enjoyable reading experience by making our glossary available. It's to be updated and expanded over time by both staff and readers, so don't hesitate to send in your favorite, new or confusing BZ term for its addition into the Lexicon Of Terms. It's a glossary now, but someday it will be a really cool looking concordance! Buckalew Estate noun. buck·a·lew e·state 1. The home residence of cult figure Jared Buckalew, the doomsday crowd’s conduit to the everyman [the Buckalew Estate is sometimes referred to as the Buckalew Palace or Buckalew Compound or Delaware’s little Biaveh]. Chateau Clintonville noun. cha·teau clin·ton·ville 1. A hilltop complex of chateaux inhabited by a colony of artists, students, retirees, satirsts, ufologists, dead prophets, hobos, socialites, cats [human and feline], chipmunks, bigfoots and raccoons. Doomage noun. doom·age 1. A sub-genre of Newark, Delaware’s heavy metal music scene. 2. The environmental aftereffects of an Altar of Dagon "Dagonian Doom Metal" concert. Jaredian Ass-Herpes noun. ja·red·i·an ass·her·pes 1. A condition of general malaise, indifference and selfishness. Contributory causes may include the combination of heavy cigarette smoking, consumption of strong alcoholic beverages and excessive masterbating to fat chick pornography. Jaredify verb. ja·red·if·y, ja·red·if·ing 1. To make worse in ways consistent with those of Jared Buckalew. adjective. ja·red·if·ied Liberate verb. lib·er·ate, lib·er·at·ing, lib·er·at·ed 1. To take a prize by manner of loot, scam or filch. Lizardry noun. liz·ar·dry 1. An action or effort supporting the grand conspiracy against mankind undertaken by the shape shifting reptilian race from the 4th dimension. 2. An aggressive act of territorial behavior in an area immediately adjacent to a space heater. Pumpboy Liberation Front (PbLF) noun. pump·boy li·ber·a·tion front 1. A brave band of resistance fighters that claimed a direct line to the Sacred Order Of Attendants And Sales Associates of ancient Lessor Babylon. The PbLF has been inactive since the fall of their arch-nemesis, known as The Tooth, and the demise of her evil realm in northern Delaware. Wal-Mart noun. wal·mart 1. A shade of blue seen in the hottest flames of hell. 2. A place to buy inexpensive space heaters. Waterford noun. wa·ter·ford 1. An upscale, Beverly Hills-type trailer park that includes the Buckalew Estate and is the envy of all those in the land of the doublewide [see Buckalew Estate].

Decanus Announces Presidential Run!!!!

2009-08-24T19:15:05Z

The Fat Kid reporting. . . Clintonville – This afternoon northern C-town had some extra traffic as former BZ owner and CEO, Decanus Picto, held a press conference in the much-storied Back Parking Lot Event Center and Pavilion. Decanus’s eye-ruining campaign poster, unveiled at the press event this afternoon. The press conference was attended by such media luminaries as BlueZer0.net, The Weekly World News, and Fox News – so there were three of us – and lasted a mere five minutes, which is in keeping with his straightforward style of speaking. The entrance to the Back Parking Lot, pictured here several months ago. At night. Because The Fat Kid forgot his camera when he went to the Decanus thing, and this is the only stock photo we can find. The following is an exact transcript of Decanus’s announcement speech: My fellow Earthicans, As you may have noticed, things are getting out of control. The country is bankrupt, not least of all because of an insane, pointless war that was started under false pretences. That crazy dude from North Korea is now officially a Nuclear Pimp, and so is that other crazy dude from Iran. No one has any clue where Osama Bin Laden is. The population is increasing while the water and food supplies are dwindling. Our average intelligence is declining, while the challenges we face are becoming ever greater. These are terrible times to be alive. They are the End Times. Trying to live a normal life now is a sucker’s bet. And what are we, the every-day people, to do about this? Military technology and organization have advanced to the stage that we can no longer simply seize power as we might once have done, but we still cannot sit idly by. We must use a new kind of approach. Our approach must simultaneously respect the military might of the system, and empower us to fell it. Our approach must simultaneously subvert the system and work within it. This is why I, Decanus Picto, have decided to run for president. We haven’t the weapons, or discipline, or sobriety necessary to simply take control of the government. But we do have the rhetorical savvy necessary to snake control of it away from those who are actually qualified to run it. We do have the boldness, the criminal know-how, the tenacity, and the fanatical following necessary to turn it on its head, and utterly destroy it for our own ephemeral gain, no matter what the cost. And why not? The world’s going to end in 2012. Why run for president in that year if that’s the year of the end of the world? That’s a stupid question. It’s not like the world’s going to end at 12:01AM on January 1, 2012. The world won’t end until December 21, 2012. So, we’ll have a good couple of months in there where we can totally fuck around and do whatever the fuck we want, with the resources of the world’s only remaining, though declining, super power at our behest. Wanna send some Misfits CDs into space? Why the fuck not? Grays like The (original) Misfits. Everybody likes The (original) Misfits, or else they’re stupid. Wanna use government money to hire 900 disgusting, lying hookers to form the world’s largest all-girl daisy chain? Let’s do it, and don’t forget the camera. But, you might be thinking, why do we need control of the government just to fuck around? What good is a 900-girl daisy chain, when you only really need three to five girls? And why do you wanna send Misfits CDs to space when we need them here? We can fuck around on our own, so why waste all that effort? Well, this is a stupid series of questions. Is that all we’d do – create all-girl daisy chains and listen to The (original) Misfits? No. That’s just the icing. Those are just the perks. Our project is really one that’s much larger and more important than anything hitherto conceived by man. We are going to preserve a nucleus of human specimens, and make sure it survives the calamity of sun spots and solar flares and rising seas and earthquakes and nuclear missiles that awaits the rest of humanity. How do we do that? I already know. That’s right, fellow Earthicans, I have a plan. As everyone with an IQ point knows, all the coming wars and Earth changes are going to go on at the surface of the Earth. The obvious thing to do, then, in the absence of technology that would allow us to leave it, is to go beneath it. And as most of the work has already been done for us, going beneath the Earth will be quite easy. Neither radioactivity nor solar radiation could penetrate a mine thousands of feet deep, and so long as we choose mines that are in ground sufficiently above sea-level, neither could the rising water. It would not be difficult – not with the army of white slaves I intend to force into my control – to drill out these mine shafts further and create sufficient space. It would not be difficult to build nuclear reactors that could provide power almost indefinitely. To build greenhouses to grow food, to create space for livestock to be bred and slaughtered, and I would guess that dwelling space for several hundred thousands of our people could easily be provided. And it would not be necessary to decide who stays up and who goes down. It could easily be accomplished with a computer. A computer could be programmed to accept or reject candidates based on factors like youth, health, sexual fertility, intelligence, and a cross-section of necessary skills. Of course it would be absolutely vital that our top government and military men be included to foster principles of leadership and tradition. With the proper breeding techniques, and a ratio of, say, ten females to each male, we could easily rebuild the population of the United States in the hundred years or so we would have to stay down there. And then when our descendants emerged, they would be the masters of the world, and could build the greatest civilization ever yet seen! So, to reiterate, my plan is four-fold. 1. Snake my way into the presidency. 2. Through conscription, raise an army of white slaves –‘cause black slavery is really a touchy subject – and force them to renovate the deepest mine shafts that exist at about 5,280 feet above sea-level, and build a vast civilization inside of them. 3. Fuck around (i.e. create 900-hooker daisy chains, launch Misfits space probe, et cetera) until the shit comes down. 4. Go down the mineshaft, and die happy. Oh, and then also there’s something after that about our children’s children coming out of the shaft in a hundred years or something and building some kind of utopia or whatever. Who’s with me?!!!! This video, by Century Media recording artists Behemoth, for their love anthem, “Slaves Shall Serve,” is awesome. At the end of the speech, there was a thunderous applause from all three of us, and Decanus’s campaign manager started playing the Decanus Picto for President Theme Song, “Slaves Shall Serve” by everyone’s favorite blackened death metal band, Behemoth. Need I say that BZ whole-heartedly embraces Decanus Picto (as long as the sympathetic press corps are included under the umbrella-term top government and military men), and his platform? DECANUS FOR PRESIDENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Rumors Around Clintonville

2009-08-19T20:08:01Z

The Fat Kid reporting. . . Clintonville – Things have been extremely quiet in Clintonville these days, which is surprising given that not long ago, BZ founder and CEO Decanus returned from a (roughly) year-long stay on Biaveh, where he worked as janitor, and space bus ticket designer. We here at the BZ offices were expecting Decanus to announce his return to BZ, or at least to hear something about his long-awaited first record, but there has been no word. This example of Decanus’s work as space bus ticket designer is on loan from some dumb ass who paid $30 for it. However, due to the large number of parabolic microphones hidden in and around the Chateaux, extreme quiet isn’t really a problem. More than a week ago, as part of regular Chateaux security surveillance, a BZ staffer charged with monitoring such a system, sent me the following email: Fat Ass, Unknown sources, milling about the back parking lot, whose discussion was captured by remote-operated parabolic mic, indicate the following: 1. That Decanus has yet to find a suitable record deal for music that he apparently already recorded, probably on Biaveh. He continues shopping the record, but his only offer has come from Interscope Records. As Decanus wisely declines to share a label with artists like Scooter Smiff, Clique Girlz, and Gavin Rossdale, he continues his search. 2. That Decanus seemingly does not have any plans to return to the BZ fold in the near future. 3. That Newcastle Brown Ale is the most amazing liquid ever concocted by man – soundly beating runners up, Interferon, and Astroglide. 4. Decanus may be launching his political career in the very near future, if he can get off work Wednesday and Thursday. That is all. The receipt of this email was not surprising (because everyone with an IQ point or two knows it’s more important to have Newcastle Brown Ale than Interferon), nor was it particularly noted. Many unfounded rumors have had their origins in the back parking lot (notable rumors conceived in that lot include: that smoking seeds makes you impotent, that drinking Mountain Dew makes you impotent, that eating the green M&Ms makes you impotent, that Styrofoam is made out of cats, that smoking Styrofoam makes you impotent, and that Cap’n Crunch cuts the roof of your mouth), so we paid little heed. However, it is Wednesday, and sources indicate that Decanus has not gone to work. Therefore, it is our considered opinion that Decanus will be making an announcement sometime soon. Check back for updates!!!!

The Truth is Not Out There Anymore

2009-08-14T18:20:38Z

The Shadow reporting. . . Upper Arlington – After last week’s rainstorm, I managed to sneak out of the posh and pleasant Fat Cave unnoticed by the alien authorities, who must have assumed that their vicious rain attack had subdued me. I felt like I had to return to the crash site ASAP, but it was about a half hour walk, so I borrowed the Fat Cycle. Despite its structural damage, I made my way there, but to no avail – the rain had turned the river an opaque brown that there was no hope of seeing through. Furthermore, the level of the river had risen, and the already turgid Olentangy was running even faster. There was essentially nothing I could do but wait and watch. The Fat Cycle: Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah FAT MAN!!!! Afraid to return to my campsite under the Third Avenue Bridge, I spent that night in the woods watching attentively, but to no avail. There was nothing – no movement, no people, no lights. Nothing but traffic, staggering hobos, and once the sun came up, some skinny chicks running. The river conditions were the same, so I slept through the day, right where I was, and awoke that evening hoping that the river had calmed some, but there was no luck. The black helicopter that chased The Shadow out of the woods. After a few days, the river did calm down, and the water started to clear, but it was still not quite safe to be in the area. Lingering clouds from the tail end of the storm were still trolling the area every couple of hours, and there were birds everywhere. Things droned on this way for a quite a while, and it was just two days ago that things really started to pick up. First, a truck disguised to look like an ODOT truck showed up. I wouldn’t have thought this strange at all, but then black helicopters started canvassing the area. After I got the above pic, it swung back around to let me know it knew I was there. This shadow government worker, from the shadow department of shadow transportation, lowered a cable through a hole in the bridge, in order to help raise the craft. (The shadow government is not associated with The Shadow.) I knew this meant things were bad. I took a look into the river, and noted that for the first time in days, the craft was visible, and it was obvious that was why they were there. They showed up disguised as government workers, in order to camouflage the fact that they were about to load an alien craft into their truck. But there was nothing I could do. Not only was I incapable of fending them off, but even if they left I had no way of recovering the craft, anyway. During my stay at the Fat Cave, the Fat Kid and I had teleconferenced with the BZ offices in hopes of procuring funding to raise the craft and transport it back to the Chateau, but they reminded us that I had previously absorbed our entire budget while renting equipment to explore Ancient Olentangea. So really there was no point to any of this anyway. I hid in the bushes until the helicopter was gone, and then cycled back to the Fat Cave. I returned to Third Avenue yesterday, finding exactly what I had anticipated – that the craft was long gone, and no trace was left behind. The shadow government has won again. The every man has lost again. But we here at BZ will keep watching the skies, and keep hanging around the new/old Upper Arlington monument, searching for answers. Plus, one day, I’m going to explain that goddamn stone circle.

Saucer Crash at Third Avenue!!!!

2009-08-08T20:19:03Z

The Shadow reporting. . . Upper Arlington – It seems like nothing happened this past week. I mean, we got an insane, open-ended, ridiculously-worded email from a very Jesusy man whose point (other than that he’s going to somehow bring us down because we aren’t Jesusy) was unclear. And there was the BZ audience’s utter failure to participate in the interactive feature, Spot the Gray, which is apparently lame even though we think it’s awesome and will probably continue with it just for our own amusement. But otherwise, there was nothing. Until last night. The Shadow shot this octagonal flying saucer down last night, and it crashed into the muddy Olentangy. For the last week or so, I’ve been stationed under the Third Avenue Bridge, waiting for our saucer to return, but with no luck and nothing going on. Last night was no different. The cops had rounded up all my hobo buddies, and sent them to a shelter where they’ll be held for a couple days before they work their way back to the river, so it was just me and the mosquitoes. I sharpened my hobo knife, went for a swim, set up some muskrat traps, and settled in for what I thought would be a long and pointless night. Then, around three in the morning (I can’t afford one of those la-dee-da glow in the dark watches, so I can only estimate the time) I saw that the saucer had returned. Last time I saw the saucer, my strategy of running toward it and yelling did not prove fruitful, so this time around I had a more sophisticated strategy – to sit there and stare at it – which allowed me to make the following observations: The craft was metallic, highly reflective, and roughly silver in color. It made no sound, but the underside gave off a blue-ish glow, known as a corona discharge, which indicates the presence of high voltage. The craft was roughly disc-shaped, but up close (I was only fifty yards or so away from it) I could tell that it was actually octagonal rather than strictly round. And, perhaps most significantly, it was hovering directly above the stone circle. The craft hovered for quite a long time – so long that I started to get a little bored – so I decided to slightly tweak my new strategy by creeping up closer to the craft, and throwing a rock at it. You know, for science. The rock I selected was about the size of a baseball, and appeared in the dim light of the craft’s corona to be limestone. I chucked it such that it’s course described a high arc, which would allow me to hit the top of the craft even though I was below it. And I kind of missed. I then selected another rock of the same description, and missed it again. But then I chased down that same rock and tried one more time, and I scored a direct hit. As the rock bounced off it, the craft emitted a loud clang, and then sort of faltered in its hovering, and started to wobble like one of those hoax saucers suspended from a string. After trying for several seconds to recover its stability, the corona blinked off, then on, then off again, and the now-blackened craft took a header into the drink. It appears, then, that limestone is like kryptonite to saucers. You heard it here first, gentle reader. We have an effective weapon against saucer-shaped craft. And as Americans, aren’t effective weapons really the only things we want? The craft, pictured here with a 21-foot Giant Olentangean River Carp, the largest freshwater fish species on the planet. I waited for the rest of the night, hoping to see the craft re-emerge, or a tow truck show up or something, but there was no sign of movement or light whatsoever. In the morning, I climbed up to the top of the Third Avenue Bridge. What I saw there was stunning. It hadn’t rained in several days, so the water was clear, and I could see right down to the bottom, where the disabled craft lay in plain sight. The river had raged all night, so it was covered in a fine layer of silt, but there was no mistaking the size and shape of the craft. I instantly recognized that the most important thing was to recover the craft, and that I couldn’t just stand there looking at it all day. However, I was apparently being monitored, for as soon as I turned around to climb back down to the shore line, the crisp sunlight started to fade. Dark clouds rolled in, and I knew I had to return to the Shadowtastic sub-bridge apartment, or be under their control. After spotting the landing site of the craft, The Shadow was attacked by this rainstorm, filmed from the shelter of The Fat Kid’s apartment, aka The Fat Cave. By the time I reached Upper Arlington, however, it was too late – I was being rained upon, and had to take shelter in that fat fucker’s apartment (which, by the way, is actually quite nice), where I was able to get enough alcohol in me to ward off the effects of the insidious mind-control drug, water. The rain has continued for several hours unabated. However, as soon as it clears, I will be back on the scene. Hopefully, I will be the first civilian ever to recover a saucer. Check back for updates!!!!!!!