It's a father, mother, son, daughter and dog. The father says to the talent agent, "We have a really amazing act. You should represent us."

The agent says, "Sorry, I don't represent family acts. They're a little too cute."

The mother says, "Sir, if you just see our act, we know you would want to represent us."

The agent says, "OK. OK. I'll take a look."

So the scene opens to my adoring family in our Bavarian castle. We're dressed in fancy 17th century clothes. I'm playing Dies Irae on a massive antique harpsichord, drinking some fine 18 year Malt Scotch, while my wife does stitchwork in a large chair. My children are playing with the dog next to our ornate fireplace. After a couple of minutes dabbling with the musical piece, my wife comes over and slams the harpsichord lid, as hard as she can, onto my fingers.

"Darling," I say, between the tears and screams, "what an interesting thing to do." I get up off my 17th Century harpsichord stool and slam the thing into the side of her face, dislodging some teeth. As she falls over somewhat dazed, I reach into the harpsichord and wrench out one of the strings, which I then use to strangle my wife with.

At this point, the children are obviously distressed. They, and the dog, run over to try and stop me. Rounding on them, I kick my daughter right in her 12 year old vagina, and elbow drop my 8 year old son onto his fragile little chest. Did I mention he's a hemophiliac?

Through all this, the dog is barking and snapping incessantly at me. It's one of those little handbag rats. I douse it in my Malt Scotch and drop kick the damn thing straight in to the fireplace, where it begins to combust.

After all this commotion, my father and mother appear on the stage. Given that they're both over 80, and served in the SS during the war, they're both very good looking people, if a little flawed. My father looks around the place and becomes so turned on by the violence that he begins masturbating. My mother, she's such a darling, hurries over to her semi-conscious grandchildren.

Father, still masturbating, strolls over to my wife who's beginning to come round. He notices the teeth she's missing and decides to fuck her mouth, rather hard. My wife, in a large degree of pain already, goes into shock and bites down. My father socks her one in the head, but she won't go down. He's shaking her about like a wet fish, but she won't budge. It's priceless.

Meanwhile, my mother has disrobed and commanded, in her harsh Germanic tones, both the children to do the same. I'm standing over them with a Hussar's sabre I've taken from over the fireplace, so they're more than willing to comply. My mother gets my son to start eating out her 85 year old pussy. It's drier than the Sahara, bless her. I insert the sabre into my daughter's already painful vagina, slowly at first.

The dog, still on fire, finally manages to escape and blindly runs straight at my Aryan father, who's managed to pull his mangled penis out of my wife's semi-conscious jaw. Dad bleed extensively, I'm talking a fountain of the stuff, straight onto the dog and proceeds to stamp on the damn thing. In shock, it begins to expel all it's effluvia onto the stage: piss, vomit, shit and cum.

Dad, still mad at my wife, picks her up by the hair. He rubs her face in it, only to find she's getting turned on. Because his penis is so damn mangled, he decides to start fisting her, taking advantage of the situation. But dad's got a thing about anal. And rather than fist, he punches his way in. I should know, we've done it before.

So as my Dad's slamming his fist into my wife's ass, while she's rubbing dog filth into her cunt, I've upped the ante with my daughter and sped up the sword. Obviously she's bleeding quite heavily at this point, just like my wife's ass in a couple of minutes. My son's in tears at what he's being forced to do and, in disgust, vomits straight into his grandmother's pussy. She smacks the boy in the eye socket and, in true Nazi style, marches off to get her jack boots.

I've had enough of my daughter, so I thrust one final time with the sword, so hard the tip comes out the top of her head. As her body goes into its death spasms, I make my son fuck her in the mouth. Her body also lets go, and she shits out a kilo of the brown stuff. I tell my son to roll about in it, while his grandmother comes back on stage.

In this time, my wife's ass has started hemorrhaging all over my dad. He's had more than enough and snaps her neck, not before giving her a few knocks to the head though. He's a gentleman like that. Mother comes back on stage in full SS regalia and has a branding iron in the shape of the Star of David. Red-hot I might add. As my father and I walk off stage, she inflicts the branding iron on my shit covered son, while singing songs about the master race. She's got a powerful voice on her that woman.

My son, naturally, passes out. My mother, disgusted at his weakness, kicks his body all over the stage, then throws it on the fire. At this point, I love this part, my father and I rise up through the floor with this large, Frankensteinian machine. My mother and father gather my family's corpses (and the dog's) into the center of the room while I plug the thing into the electricity grid.

Now this bit is a miracle of science. Part voodoo, part Nazi technology, it's one grand scene. My father goes to call for the servants while my mother slits her wrists with the sword, and draws a pentagram around the corpses, before toppling over dead on top of them.

As I crank up the machine, Father returns with the servants who are carrying a cage. Inside the cage is the Pope, bound and gagged, but still in his regalia. We're not that cruel after all. I open the cage and my father helps the servants bring on a massive crucifix. After a bit of struggling on his holiness' behalf, we manage to nail him to the damn thing. To stop any more wriggling about, I use the hammer that pinned him on to break his knees and elbows.

The machine starts to glow green and make loud noises, so I know it's ready. The servants hoist the Pope's crucifix, upside down, over my darling family. My father, ever loyal to the Reich, bless him, gives a rousing speech from the Nuremburg rally before stabbing himself right through the cock with the sword. It's too much for the old man, and he finally gives up his 89 years of living.

With the tears still brimming in my eyes from witnessing such a proud act, I take two cables and clamp them onto the Pope's nipples. I squat down and shit out a massive load of clay-like brown stuff. I start drawing runes on his face, then stuff his mouth with the remainder. Returning to machine, I pull the switch and this beautiful, sickly green lightning goes straight through the crucifix and into the bodies. The pentagram on the floor starts to glow. It's something beautiful I tell you.

As the Pope screams up there on his cross, my family's bodies start twitching. His holiness bursts into flames just as my wife starts to stand on her feet. The last thing he sees is my wonderful zombie family reaching up towards him.

The zombies promptly turn on the servants, tearing into them with their undead fingers, ripping at organs and such. There's blood everywhere. It's at this point that Satan, dressed as Hitler, manifests in the pentagram and commends me on such a sterling job of inhumanity. My dad would be so proud.

As a finale, Satan pulls out his 3 foot spiked penis and fucks me right in the ass, vigorously as you like, while my zombie family, sated on human flesh, start a fuck conga of the dog being fucked by my daughter, my son fucking my daughter, my zombie wife doing my son, dad's her while eating my mother's zombie cunt. Then Satan and I start singing "Time of my life", just before the curtains drop on this happy family scene.

For the longest time, the agent just sits in silence. Finally, he manages, "That's a hell of an act. What do you call it?"

And the father says, "The Aristocrats!"

When I was a little kid, I didn't understand that you were supposed to stick your dick through the zipper area of the pants and the flap in the underwear. I just assumed the zipper was to make the pants fit and underwear were just made that way.

Well one day, when I was just a wee lad, I went outside to take a wis, though I'm not sure at all why I didn't just use the toilet. I wend around back of the house to the basketball rim and did the usual pulling of the pants waist down past my pre-pubescent cock. For some reason however, these jeans seamed to be extra tight that day.

Halfway through pissing I just lost the grip of my thumbs and the pants waist went straight up knocking my ding dong up in its path, still flowing. And right into my eyes it flowed. It was hot, it was nasty, but it wasn't the worst feeling I've ever had in my eyes.

: And I also just got some new stainless-steal hoops for my spider bites.

Certainly, ridding out the last few days of my 15 day ban on April Fools Day could have been done without. Poozy, you fuck. Now I won't get to enjoy this glorious sight honoring the Chinese people.

Good show Tom, Good show!

I've been trying to think for a few days of what to write in this box. This is all I could come up with.

Well let's see. Where does one begin such a list? I'm kickin' this one freestyle...
Yo!

In no particular order, a list of things that piss me off:

] pre-paid cell phone plans that are a rip-off any way you look at them

] being volonteered or put in situations I don't want to be in or do

] ex girlfriends who turn into sluts

] 3 people smoking in my car at once

] my employment at Frisch's

] the complcation of tax returns

] Trent Malone

] old ladies who bitch until they get their way

] gravely sidewalks which I blame for my end in skateboarding

] stupid fucks who just live to start shit

] california richies, and anyone who would watch them on tv

] buffy the vampire slayer

] fat white girls who fuck skinny black dudes

] people who abuse dogs

] copyright laws that force show writers wo use crappy knock-offs of nostalgic music

] mondays

] fried chicken, it's such a waist of something good

] retarded girls who somehow succeed in life

] people who fuck with my shit who arent my close friends

] sports fags at school who know every stat of ever team of every sport

] kids who think they're "baller" in the 5th grade

] people smoking under the age of 15

] when a certain female voice appears in a KMFDM song

] my computer situation

] losing my pass book for restroom breaks...

] people who keep talking

] atheists

] bible-thumpers

] republicans

] democrats

] conservatives

] liberals

] the anti-facist alliance

] those who opose war

] those who are for war, for all the wrong reasons

] Hillary Clinton
UPDATE***
] the ag kids who think Obama is a terrorist

] those who will vote for McCain because of his political affiliation alone

] people's girlfriends who tell them they can't be my friend

] sitting around this house with nothing to do but type a list of things that piss me off

] songs about shoes/lip gloss/being in the club/expensive cars

] Scientology (We are legion, for we are many)

] McDonalds employees who were involoved in the giving of my name for conterfiet money

] the Federal Communications Commitee

] CCTV, just a matter of time before they infect the US

] the juvenile court system which thinks "There is no such thing as a traffic 'accident', someone is always to blame" and therfor makes me pay almost $300 just to get my lisence back

] anyone who's only reality exists within a television

] whoever broke the fucking elevator.. i'm sick of these stairs!

These people>>>

My Fukken Über adventure takes place June 18th! I'm buying tickets for me and three friends to head up to Columbus to Skully's to Hanzel Und Gretyl's "Doppel Über Death Tour" where a good friend of mine and local Industrial/Metal Artist RIOTHEAD will be opening! This will definately be the shit since I've been waiting for a HuG show for years, and now with the one opening I'd like to see! I'll be writing a review as soon as I recover from the event...

Or at least he would have, if the door was unlocked. Mall parking lot, and he was looking inside at all the new expensive toys as we were walking out toward the car. Checked all four doors to see if one might be unlocked... We all just kind of stared blankly on as we didn't know what to think and didn't want to jump to any conclusions. But, he threw up some gang signs as a sign of distress, then walked away toward the back of the parking lot.

Good Times.