Modern Day Mikey

While you all were studying for exams and writing papers in the fall of 2004, I was fast at work in my dorm room single drawing picture requests in MS Paint. I had started a thread, on that same Otakubooty forum that I keep talking about, which simply stated "tell me what to draw and I will." At first the requests were pretty simple or silly, but after awhile people wanted me to draw more and more situations of despicable sexual nature. Shamefully I complied because the praise for my work was greatly appreciated during that dark time of my life. Anyways, I just recently took most (I lost some of these plus all the original bitmaps during the great crash of '06) and made a flickr account so you can catch a glimpse at my sad, sad genius.

A lot of these are nws (NOT WORK SAFE) as they tend to depict very realistic penises. Of course if you are reading my blog instead of working then you should be ashamed. Each drawing comes with the original request in its description and a working title.

My MS Paint Masterpieces


Enjoy.

A Procrastination Story

A year ago I was taking a Creative Writing class at Greenville Tech (College that Works). Now, I wrote some stuff in that class that I'm pretty proud of that have no place in a blog, which are traditionally set aside for shitty poems about hating your parents. If you want to read any of the stuff I wrote that I consider "cool" then drop me a line online and I'll send them to you.

No, this is a story, not about creativity but about lack of productivity.

For our final Portfolio I had to have completed four poems and two pieces of short fiction. My one short story (a scifi thriller) was pretty long and needed revising. I didn't revise it. I touched up a couple of pieces I thought were pretty solid and word-shitted out some peer reviews that I hadn't done earlier in the semester. I had taken a poem that I wrote (in a very emotional state which I might talk about next post) my senior year of high school and revamped it for the final project. All in all putting this whole thing together hadn't taken much time at all and when I did a check off of all the things I needed I came up one poem short.

Now, I had plenty of time to write out a poem and make a fake revision of it but, in typical Matty fashion, I decided to waste my time staring at a web browser or something. I probably played Advance Wars: Dual Strike for the 100 millionth time. Honestly, I don't remember what I filled up that valuable work time with. I do remember that eventually as dawn approached I was in dire need of a poem.

Here is what I did. I fished up a copy of an old thread from Otakubooty that I had posted in about two years prior. The topic of this thread? SUPER SMASH BROS. HAIKU. Yes, haiku(s?) regarding the Nintendo fighting game Super Smash Bros. Melee. I copied and pasted all of my (no, I didn't plagiarize) old haiku from that thread into a Word Document, formated, and saved. Needless to say (considering the scrutiny of my school's grading criteria) I got an A on the whole project.

Here for you all now are the haiku (and the limerick epilogue) I submitted for a final project in an upper level English class at our Community College. Enjoy!

***

she sternly gazes
at Sealab, destroyed, but still
Yoshi or Young Link?

Oh shit, I’m Kirby.
Damage two hundred per cent
Where’s Mr. Saturn?

Queen of sleep and dreams
Sing your sexy lullaby
Ready for down-B?

shall I pull the sword,
or remain forever young?
and not have sword pulled.

Ugh I feel so sick.
What do you prescribe, Doctor?
"Me kicking your ass."

IM BOWSER RARRR RARRR
FIRE FIRE MAIM BITE FIRE PRINCESS
RARRR RARRR RARRR RARRR RARRR

Pokefloats. Wait...what?
No really, what is this shit?
Good God, what the fuck?

Two hundred ninety...
Where the hell is the last one?
Childhood wasted.

Mushroom missed the point.
Mario missed the Mushroom.
Look out, Mario!

Pink stain on the ground
Reminds me of Pink Yoshi.
Come back to me, Yosh!

My pink Yoshi hat-
Glowing beacon in the dark.
Young Link understands.

***

Haikus aren't the cool way to post,
But believe me I'm not here to boast.
Although mine were better
Straight down to each letter,
You've all killed the art to a ghost.

I needed to make something quite fresh;
Haikus reek of old Bangladesh.
And since I'm the wiser
Gimmick fertilizer
I decided to give the art new flesh.

The "F" in F5 Stands for Failure.

I think Blogger.com must be under some kind of Denial of Service attack because all of your comments aren't being reported on my end. I hit F5 (the shortcut button for refreshing a webpage for you blogbabies) for the better part of the day hoping to see what you all had to say about the latest look into my abyss. Needless to say, I sent Blogger.com a very concerned email shortly after I realized there was a problem. I'm still waiting to hear back from them. I've just felt oh so alone and I NEED you guys to reply to my blog. If I don't hear back from you guys on what I've written then how can I justify living? Boo hoo! Woe is me.

YEAH, MOTHERFUCKING RIGHT.

I bet you boiz n' gurlz thought that I was some pathetic waste of space that justifies his life through what others think of him. Well sorry to disappoint you, dicklicks, but my world doesn't revolve around what you think no matter how much you think it. I think some people need to build a time machine and go back and talk with Freud to get your egos checked out. Let me lay out just how pathetic you all are compared to me. Were you getting teary-eyed reading my opening blogograph? I custom wrote that little intro to tug at your weak little heartstrings. I've studied blog upon blog throughout my research and I know what kind of emotional buzzwords are best used to get comments. And I'll tell you right now that I'm not about to stoop to those tactics, pun in-motherfucking-tended. Yeah, I'm mad you guys think my life depends on what you, my small group of readers, thinks. But it's not true. Still not convinced that I'm more e-cool than you? Well let me let you in on a little secret:

I daily visit four (and only four) other websites that can supply me with the comments I need. I'm not a blogger exclusive. So I hope I don't bruise any of your feelings with this revelation of where else I go to get my juice.

Otakubooty.com
I'm a proud member of the Otakubooty community. Otakubooty is a dating website for people who consider themselves, no, ourselves otaku. What is an otaku? Why not just ask me to define the word Juggalo? It's just impossible to describe in words what an otaku is, but if I had to try I'd say, "[It] is a person who is cooler than most other people on the internet." I get maybe 4 or 5 comments from members on that site EVERY DAY. That's like an infinity times more than I get here. Hear that? Ya'll is slim pickins. Some of my best e-friends take time out of their busy lives to skim through the prewritten list of comments that you are allowed to leave. Some of these comments are considered 18+ so I won't go into them in detail here. Occasionally I'll even get a message from some hot chick asking me why I've viewed her profile 200 times. Basically, I can go to this website and get all the attention I need in exchange for posting nude pictures of myself, and that's more than I can say for your sorry lot.

Gamefaqs.com
Maybe you've heard of it? It's only the biggest and best online community for people who are into gaming. If you want good conversation about your favorite games then check no further than the Gamefaqs message boards. If you are some noob lurker on their site then you might know me as Sephirothr4ven-kun. Yeah, THE Sephirothr4ven-kun. Gamefaqs is a place where I know if I put up a thread about who would win in a fight, Yoshi or Young Link, I'll get some timely responses. We have this funny inside joke where every time I post something everyone responds with the word "fag." It's a pretty hilarious typo of the word "faq" (stands for Frequently Answered faQs) which I'm known to be pretty 1337 at writing, when it comes down to it. I'll usually get like 40 or 50 replies like this before my topic sinks to the bottom. I'm smart enough to take screenshots of all those threads in case people want to try to question my clout. And NO, I don't photoshop them.

Facebook.com
You could almost call me a founding member of this community. Back when it first came out I got in on the ground floor on day one. And I'm not the type of bozo who goes around friending everyone I see just to swell up my count. Last time I tried that (as a test to all those out there) no one actually accepted my friendships (You all passed the test). Facebook is set up to where I don't even need to get comments directly from my friends. I just check my feed and it's like every detail of their lives are commented up against my own. Facebook is the Fun House Mirror of networking sites. I know some of you bloozers are on there too, so don't think I'm not aware of your little games. Writing on each others' walls about how today you aren't going to comment on my blog so that when you do inevitably flood me with comments tomorrow I'll appreciate them more. Listen! I don't need tough love okay? I just need anything... no no no. Okay, no. That was a test, too...ah, and you all passed but barely with like a D-.

And lastly but definitely not least Myspace.com
Man, am I popular on this website. I can't look away for less than three minutes without some Super Model asking me to be her friend. How many of you know Super Models? No, Daniel, your wife's JC Penny catalog doesn't count lol! There is something that some of you lack and will probably never learn. It's called charisma, and it's what I use to fill out online profiles to make girls want to be my friend and message me about their picture websites. Lesson 1: Always say that you are single, always. This will have the honies flocking to your inbox. Lesson 2: Always say that you are dissatisfied with the size of your penis. Girls love a guy who's sensitive and honest. Lesson 3 (the greatest of all): Make sure you don't have any losers in your Top 8. Go ahead and check, you won't find any of yourselves in there. It's nothing personal I just think you might cramp my style. Follow my lessons and you'll become pretty popular on myspace.

I hope this sheds some light on my daily web browsing. I'm not just sitting here at my blog hitting F5 over and over waiting for some kind of human contact. No I sit with 5 open tabs in my Mozilla Firefox Browser. Each one opened to one of the websites I mentioned above. I then follow a very strict refresh and browse regimen to maximize the comments I get. First I hit F5, scan, and process any changes. If there are no changes on the website I click the tab to the immediate right of the previous tab (unless it's the last tab in which case I cycle back to the first). I then follow that Refreshercise over and over until someone has responded to a thread or profile. Then I take the time to compose and send a follow up comment and to bask in my badittude. Only then do I move on to the next tab. You see, the Internet never slows and certainly never stands still, especially if you have up to five websites to visit. You can become a very busy and successful commenteer if you just follow my (F)five easy steps.

So, don't cry for me, Argentina, (you can almost spell Internet with the letters in that) the truth is I never left you. I merely minimized your tab. I'll be back one day. Today. Like in 4 minutes.

Matty, Pro Farmer, #1 Dad

Blogs are omnivorous. They feed off of both reader comments and stories about getting dumped on the Internet and the like. Getting comments from your blog readers is like getting a huge steak at a restaurant when you ordered a tiny steak. You just aren't expecting it and when the bill comes you totally don't tell the waiter. In your state of fullness, however, you are more than likely going to tip him an exorbitant amount and then get inspired to go home and write a really good blog post. Writing about emotional iDumping is like going out and shoveling a tough, fibrous diet of e-woe and heart@breaking into the readers' mouths. See, all blog readers are fat cows. Yes, you, the person sitting in the chair in front of the screen, are nothing but a cow to be slaughtered for my nourishment. Sure if I feed you a mass of grain you'll respond with constant, yet lackluster replies. All that personal drama sits in the readers stomach and over time get turned into cud. Then they'll hoark it back up into their mouths and chew on it for a time before deciding to produce milky responses. If I want the juiciest comments I can't keep feeding you the same boring stuff. No! I have to fatten you up even more with tales of the most horrible bloody lows I can think up, because a man can't live on tiny steak alone.

A reader needs variety in his or her diet. It's the only way. When my blog first started the comments posted by some users were so dramalicious that I didn't even need to think up any new material at all. I just fed those readers' comments into the bovine mouths of all my other readers. For awhile this was the perfect "all meat" diet and my blog was awesome. But this kind of cannibalism can only create disaster. Even my most faithful readers ended up contracting a strain of Mad Blog Disease of the Brain that ate them away faster than that Micro Machines Motor Mouth guy at a pussy eating contest. I felt like I couldn't compete with the insane success of my early work so I just gave up on farming for comments all together.

So what do I feed you?

If I talk only about video games or Yu Gi Oh cards then I'm going to alienate a lot of you. If I just talk about how bitchy all my dumb, mean old ex-girlfriends are then they'll stop reading and I'll lose half my audience. I can't just sit around and talk about this bump on my shaft because, although it may be important, it's not going to get much of a response except from the small Doctor community that are required, by the State, to read and analyze my blog. (If only I had a pair of tits my life would be so much easier.) While I may only have modest man-boobs I do have one thing. My ability to create metaphors to link ideas.

Metaphors are tits.

Nothing says, "Good writing." like being able to bring two things together with a complex and incoherent metaphor. Take my whole cow thing I tried to create. You may think it isn't going anywhere. You may think it's nothing but a weak Mootaphor that I used to up my farmer contingent. Well when the cattle get restless you can only do one thing. Give them a firm, swift prod. First with a link to a picture of my "prod" being used as a DS stylus and then with a nice juicy slice of life. People who live amongst the blogotropic planes don't have lives. They suck off the lives of others like how that Motor Mouth guy sucks off a bull's cock at a Bestiality Convention. Filling their small, efficiently pink mouths with a half pint of hot, salty experience, which has a distinct oatty aroma, satisfies them in a way never intended by the Lord our God.

So what rad adventure do I have to tell you about today? Well, I, Matty S., have been digging an 80 foot trench. Hmm. Doesn't seem like much does it? Let me tell you something, Miss Priss; until you work a day in your god damn life and get out there and break some earth instead of breaking hearts then don't ever come up to me online and talk to me about how you are "all that." I have a connection with the Pioneers of our Country's early days, the first Cowboys. I have those same blisters that they had on their palms right at the knuckle. I have those other blisters on my dick that come from jacking off with a fist full of blisters. I've felt the sweet sting as palm blister on dick blister burst forth like the first time Pa took us down to Santa An to see the fireworks show the Traveling Merchant brought all the way from the settled territories. My taint has sweated and sweated creating a perfect mixture of scranal sweat that'll make your boxers smell sweeter than a freshly plowed field. And I do all this, like the early farmers, to start a new beginning.

When I finish this ditch I'll have enough money to move to the coast and settle down and maybe pick up a few more cows along the way. I'll have plenty of experience in trough digging and I'll be able to keep my readers fed with a proper diet of drama, wit, gross-out humor, and racism. It's going to be hard to get from A to B. I don't have an Indian girl to lead me through the unmarked paths. What I need most of all is to have a herd that'll respect me and treat me right. Maybe even post a comment on my blog every now and again. I figure with enough cooperation I'll be able to brand all of you soon enough with my own special brand (LOL) of blogedy. So saddle yourselves up and get ready for me to ride your tight butts into the sunset. This blog ain't about ta' mosie, I don't reckon.