Hello all, on friday, the 11 of july, I got my comment told and made fun of on Red Eye, one of my favorite new shows. the comment was...
Dear Greg,
I feel that you are the reason for Bill not being accepted into the Big Brothers, Big Sisters program. Obivously one of the FBI agents watches your show and heard all the gay jokes about Bill and took them seriously. But if you look at Bill he is just not that appealing for a little brother. He would probably eat him.
Best Regards,ConnorMissoula, MT
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
I MET AND SHOOK HANDS WITH RON PAUL!!!!!
You all fucking suck. Check this out. I was working and one of my heros Ron Paul was speaking there. So as I was cleaning the tables I noticed him walking out of the room. I ran over and asked for an autograph. He signed a piece of paper that I had in my pocket. Then one of the men with him asked me if I wanted to get a picture. So one of the men there took the picture and sent it to my Email. So now everyone sucks but me. I met the person that should have been president of the U.S. Suck it Obama and McCain, you are nothing compared to Ron Paul!!!!!!!!!!
Monday, May 26, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Bio-Toxin
This is the horrible story of a tragic end of the Lego population except a few men and women that are immune. Or so they think.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
A Little Yellow Neighborhood
This is my little yellow neighborhood, it a little corner restraunty thingy, and a house for the crazed CIA Agent that thinks he is on the run, but the CIA dropped him, because he was strange. There is a chef as well. Each of these models is a Creater Lego set.
The Chef.
The CIA agent.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
The Strange Occurrence
Once upon a dark and dreary night, I was walking home from the local bar, having downed something around seven or eight shots of Jack Daniels, I could not tell where I was. Wobbling back and forth on a dark, damp sidewalk, I slapped my self several times, then could see somewhat better. With most things less blurry, I pressed on to my home just a few block down the road. staring down the street and the tall bright street lamps and the apartments that looked like they went on forever. I saw a familiar face. It was under a hood, and at first I thought that I was imagining things, but it was him.
Joe Brickelstien, he was about six foot one, and had a very harsh protruding nose. His eyes were black, and always wide open, as if someone had scared him shittless. The jaw on the man was more protruding then the nose, all together he looked like a neanderthal. Stepping fast he moved toward a dark, rundown, building. I had walked past this place for years and never seen anyone go in or come out. Never a car parked, or a light on. So I decided to follow him. At first he did not notice me, until, I stepped into a puddle. He stopped, I stopped. As if time had frozen, we both stood there what felt like an eternity. Slowly he turned his head. I started to walk down the street. Slowly turning back, Joe, quickened his pase and jolted up the stairs of the building and rushed through the door.
Slowly I walked into through the broken gated yard. There was an old tricycle lying on it's side. I thought that maybe the child that left it missed it. Pressing on, I look up at the building. It was two stories high and all of the dark blue paint was peeling off. As I walked up the stairs, I heard and felt each one give under my feet. One of them creaked. I froze. Then moved on. Slowly approaching the door, I stared at the knocker. It was a Lion's head knocker, with the ring in it's mouth. I grabbed, and knocked three times.
I heard slow foot steps from inside the house. They came closer and closer, until finally the door creaked open and the neanderthalic man was staring at me. "What do you want", he said. His voice was deep, like Darth Vader. "You will leave now, or you'll get a punch'en." His broken English, and made up words would always make me laugh, but not know. If I would not have left, he might have killed me.
He did not recognize me so I slowly stepped off of the porch and wobbled back into the street. after about twenty steps, I passed out. Waking up many hours later. A small boy was poking me with a stick, asking If I was Dead. I told him to shoo off, he ran down the street, like a jaguar after his prey. Wandering back up the street toward the abandoned building, my headache finally kicked in. I saw flashing lights, blue and red. There were a lot of men in black and blue uniforms, and a few in suits.
Running up, I saw that it was a brigade of police cars and a few detective's cars. As I ran up one of the officers, Shawn Brickaughlen, stopped me and I asked him about what had happen. He said that someone had been murdered. A young man, eighteen. I thought that it was going to be Joe, but that was the worst part about it. If it wasn't Joe, then he was the one that did it, the one that murdered the poor young man.
To Be Continued...
Joe Brickelstien, he was about six foot one, and had a very harsh protruding nose. His eyes were black, and always wide open, as if someone had scared him shittless. The jaw on the man was more protruding then the nose, all together he looked like a neanderthal. Stepping fast he moved toward a dark, rundown, building. I had walked past this place for years and never seen anyone go in or come out. Never a car parked, or a light on. So I decided to follow him. At first he did not notice me, until, I stepped into a puddle. He stopped, I stopped. As if time had frozen, we both stood there what felt like an eternity. Slowly he turned his head. I started to walk down the street. Slowly turning back, Joe, quickened his pase and jolted up the stairs of the building and rushed through the door.
Slowly I walked into through the broken gated yard. There was an old tricycle lying on it's side. I thought that maybe the child that left it missed it. Pressing on, I look up at the building. It was two stories high and all of the dark blue paint was peeling off. As I walked up the stairs, I heard and felt each one give under my feet. One of them creaked. I froze. Then moved on. Slowly approaching the door, I stared at the knocker. It was a Lion's head knocker, with the ring in it's mouth. I grabbed, and knocked three times.
I heard slow foot steps from inside the house. They came closer and closer, until finally the door creaked open and the neanderthalic man was staring at me. "What do you want", he said. His voice was deep, like Darth Vader. "You will leave now, or you'll get a punch'en." His broken English, and made up words would always make me laugh, but not know. If I would not have left, he might have killed me.
He did not recognize me so I slowly stepped off of the porch and wobbled back into the street. after about twenty steps, I passed out. Waking up many hours later. A small boy was poking me with a stick, asking If I was Dead. I told him to shoo off, he ran down the street, like a jaguar after his prey. Wandering back up the street toward the abandoned building, my headache finally kicked in. I saw flashing lights, blue and red. There were a lot of men in black and blue uniforms, and a few in suits.
Running up, I saw that it was a brigade of police cars and a few detective's cars. As I ran up one of the officers, Shawn Brickaughlen, stopped me and I asked him about what had happen. He said that someone had been murdered. A young man, eighteen. I thought that it was going to be Joe, but that was the worst part about it. If it wasn't Joe, then he was the one that did it, the one that murdered the poor young man.
To Be Continued...
Jail House Now
As you can see here this is a mid-western jail house a
nd jail. As you can see, there is one man in the jail, with a helmet on. The Mayor, the one in the suit with the slick black hair, and the sheriff, in the black commanders cap. To the right there is a plane, (from the Indiana Jones sets) and a car, (also from Indiana Jones). Inside is the key to the jail, water cooler for drinking and a desk, without a chair.
nd jail. As you can see, there is one man in the jail, with a helmet on. The Mayor, the one in the suit with the slick black hair, and the sheriff, in the black commanders cap. To the right there is a plane, (from the Indiana Jones sets) and a car, (also from Indiana Jones). Inside is the key to the jail, water cooler for drinking and a desk, without a chair.
Hole in One!!!
Did you see, even Legos are better at golf then you are. Just kidding. If you are Tiger Woods. I wish I could do that. Surprisingly it took longer then one try to get that. Legos are not good at golf either. That video was a lucky shot. To see more cool Lego guys do cool stuff check'em out at Http://www.youtube.com/thelegopanda
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