Years ago, when my brother and I were made of better material than we're composed of now, we invented a game. It was a sick, twisted game. Now that I think of it, as men, we should be killed for inventing such a game.

The rules are simple. When one of us wasn't paying attention, the other would try and hit him in the junk. For those of you that don't know, your junk is equivalent to your: balls, sack, ball-bag, scrote... you get the idea.

This game never ended, and was best played in the most inappropriate of places. One could fully expect to get tagged during someone's funeral, wedding, baptismal, date, whatever. And the 'tags' were never gentle. It wasn't meant to just get your attention. It was meant to drop you to your knees. Puking, crying, wallowing on the floor, or shitting yourself was just extra fun.

In our defense, we were about 20something when we started this. Old enough to know better, but young enough not to care. Now that we're 30something, the game still goes on, but it's gained a few more players. I being a bit more sound in the mental department, have opted out. My brother on the other hand, well let's just say I got the brains...

Somehow our local hangout got wind of the game. And for whatever reason the tags have gotten brutal. Out of hand even. Before I quit, I distinctly remember dropping a friend of mine with a 40lb sledgehammer. I thought it was funny as hell. He's still a bit bitter over it and has sworn to get me back sometime before he dies. Another famous tag I'll take credit for is when I tagged someone with 6 cell Maglite! He couldn't breathe for several seconds and turned more colors than there are in the average Crayola box.

Like I said, I opted out. Karma has a way of getting back to you. I still dread walking into the shop sometimes... Especially since this crazy sawed-off bastard named Mark has joined the ranks. He does not give up. Subtlety plays a big part in the game. He has not an ounce of it. Most people try and hide the fact that they're about to get you. Not Mark. He just goes for it. If he misses, he just keeps trying. And trying, and trying. Eventually he gets you and he feels better about life. But until he does, don't sleep!

Uhlike Mark, who prefers the direct approach, there have been some notable tags. A friend of mine who goes by the name of Ebola, has been the victim of several notable hits. My brother (big suprise) was handing him a paintball gun (so Ebola thought), before he could get his arm fully extended, the gun was dropped in his lap. It might not sound too bad, but it was funny as hell to witness. I guess there's something funny about watching guys turn colors and crying like women (or worse). Hetzie says bitches, but she's never been hit in the nads really hard.

Ebola is a favorite taget. How can you not tag someone who's zapped himself with a 50,000 volt tazer? Ohh the things we do when we're bored. I've got a few more instances, but Hetzie's being a prick and wants to leave, so I've got to up the computer. Maybe there will be a part two to this. Maybe. I've got to get clearance to name names. Holla back!

I stay out of the chattoom on Saturdays. I'm afraid one of Lucy's spies will see me. The crap that comes out of my mouth (fingers?) is way too easy to pick on. So I leave you with Sexy Cow.

Want Milk anyone?

That last post was horrible. I know. I apologize. This one may be even worse. It's one of those things I should have gotten out of my system last year, but it managed to ooze into 2007. This is the last one.



That might not be funny to you, but that shit is hilarious to me! I wonder if she had to take her teeth out to do that? Okay, that was a little nasty. Funny as hell, but nasty! Once again, that's the last one.

My girlfriend although seemingly innocent, is anything but. She has a cute face and has the ability to produce a little squeeky voice that fools the average person. I however know the real deal.

Like most women, she has an alter ego. Not quite like a superhero or supervillan, sort of like psychopathic killer clown alter ego. Hopefully that got you all on the same page I'm on, but if not, try Single White Female, Basic Instinct, Brokeback Mountain....

If that were the whole of it, I guess she could be tolerated and allowed to live. Unfortunately that's not the case. It would seem that her alter ego has manifested itself in the strangest of places. It chose her vagina as the place to call home. Now whenever she's upset, her vagina takes over. She's nice. Her vagina is mean. It uses bad language! That was a direct quote. I wish I could, but I can't make this stuff up.

Here's the part I get in trouble for. While she was sleeping I took a picture of my girlfriend's vagina. This may disturb a few of you, but without proof, no one would believe me. Brace yourselves!



Is that not the scariest thing you've ever seen in your life? Let me tell you, it disturbs the hell out of me! If I ever saw something like that out in the wild, I would kill it. Twice!

Since I'm already going to get my ass handed to me for this, I must make something very clear. There's a lot of confusion as to who actually is my girlfriend. While I won't divulge that information, I will say this: The vagina in that picture definately does not belong to: Night Bug, Trisha, Hetzie, Kristin, or Auti_2006. Hopefully that buys me enough time to pack my shit and disappear somewhere. Anybody in Oklahoma have a couch I could sleep on for a few days? Michigan? North Cacalaky?

Some of you may have noticed that I've changed my moniker. Had I been thinking, I would have done this a little over a year ago when I started this blog.

As strange as it sounds, I need to separate my two identities. Although Big Shane is who I am on a day to day basis, Wilson Fisk will serve as my Blogstream persona. I also find it easier to write about Shane as Wilson Fisk. Weird I know, but what writer isn't?

For those of you that don't know, Wilson Fisk is also known as the Kingpin. By day he's a hugely successful business man. By night, he is the overlord of the criminal world. There is nothing that goes on that he doesn't know about or have his fingers in. Even down to seemingly insignificant purse-snatching, he better get his due. If the only thing in the purse was 12 dollars and some gum, he better get 7 bucks and half the pack! That's what's up!

Wilson is needed here at blogstream. Who else is going to roust Scrathy's bar? When Zappa needs an article for his Geekly Pages, I'm there. (as long as he only runs articles I approve).

Don't worry. I'm not experiencing blowupuation of the ego. I'll still answer to Shane (only Al calls me Shaney poo). I'm still the same guy I ever was. Hell, everyone knows Adam's name isn't Adam, but that's all we call him... Same thing.

Hit me back with your comments on this one. Thank you. I'm out!

Well, I was out. I have to leave you with this. I found it funny. I hope you will too.