Press Conference!!!

Thank you all for coming. Let me begin by saying how deeply and truly touched I am by this outpouring of support after my recent ban from Medialine. The BBMD campaign has been been nothing short of amazing. When I was a little Dyckerson growing up in the projects of Dyckersonville, never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd achieve so much fame and success!

Now here's what we know at this hour. I am still currently banned from Medialine, but there are signs that the opposition may be starting to waver. In the last few days, Dyck sympathizers have turned out in droves to show their support in words and images. As you can see from ECP's screen shot, we had a minor setback last night when a rogue poster named TVShootist went nuts and flooded the message board with tons of meaningless, Dyck-themed threads. I want to state here and for the record that I had absolutely nothing to do with this idiot's actions, nor do I condone them. It was totally out of line, and Mark has every reason to be pissed. Most of these threads were quickly deleted (and rightfully so), but unfortunately many of the legitimate Dyckerson threads were removed as well.

However, there is some good news. As of Saturday, the anti-Dyckerson blog has been removed (but not before I made copies of all their hateful propaganda). Whether they left voluntarily or by force is anyone's guess. But in light of these more recent events, the haters may re-organize and return with a response, but for the moment, we seem to have scored a victory.

So what's the next step? When the Dyck haters first showed up a few weeks ago, I knew we were in for a firestorm, so I emailed Mark in an effort to nip this in the bud. Alas, I received no response. Then after I was banned a week ago, I emailed him again. I wish to point out that these were very sincere, respectful emails. But still no response. It's clear that Mark doesn't want to hear from me, so I would propose that each of you let him how you feel via email. I'm sure Mark is a busy guy, and we certainly don't want to further aggravate him, so I know you'll keep your emails concise, positive, and respectful. And of course, report back here if you receive any response.

In closing, I want to again thank you all for your generous donations of time and effort in the BBMD campaign! Now I'll entertain a few questions...

Nancy Grace: How did all this get started?
MD: It began a few weeks ago when a bunch of assholes came out of the woodwork and started harrassing me endlessly on Medialine. I say "assholes," plural, but I'm certain we're dealing with no more than 2 or 3 nutcases with far too much free time. By their own admission, they created MANY different user names on the forum over a long period of time. They then used these different names to accuse me of many things, most notably of being a racist. I think this is based on some gag pictures I posted of the Katrina looter. Threats were made against me and Medialine. Things escalated, and I said and did some things that I absolutely shouldn't have, and I deeply regret it.

Rita Cosby: So why specifically were you banned?
MD: What the hell is with your voice?!! Anyway, the anti-Dyckers bitched and moaned to Mark, using all their different screen names to appear to be a large group of people. There's no telling what exactly they said. Some of it may have been accurate, but these idiots have lied on many occasions. And sadly, Mark has really only heard their side of it.

Katie Couric: Would you like to see video of the inside of my colon?
MD: No thanks.

Bill O'Reilly: You've been banned numerous times in the past. You love this shit, don't you?
MD: Actually, NO. This is a royal pain in the ass. In previous bannings, I've been able to work things out with Mark and get the ban lifted. Each time, I have made sincere efforts to tone down my act and be sensitive to feelings of others. I feel I have done this quite well. Anyone who's been on Medialine for a long time knows that I used to be much, MUCH more rude and offensive than I am now.

Edward R. Murrow: Which one of you fuckers swiped my Marlboros?!
MD: Next question?

Dan Rather: Mabel, come in from the porch, 'cause this is BIG. This whole thing stinks more than a Texas outhouse in the middle of August. Sounds like these people's asses are tighter than the lug nuts on a '57 Chevy. So why not pull the old Shanghai Surprise and do a double-cross on the flip side?
MD: I believe the question was, why don't I just use a different name or IP address to get back into the forum? Well the answer is quite simply, I don't want to. The name Dyckerson has brand recognition, and with over 3,000 posts, I had achieved veteran status. Plus, I'd prefer not to undermind Mark's authority and go sneaking around against his wishes. Furthermore, I have many of our friend BarkieDawg's old PMs in my inbox, and I would like very much to reread them.

Ann Curry: Any othur thawts youd lik to leeve with the ahdiense?
MD: Pray. And keep fighting the fight. Wear your BBMD ribbons with pride, and spread the gospel of Dyckerson whenever you can. No one should have their lives turned upside down by intimidation and hate mongering. Now show me your ta-ta's.


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Death Notices

In light of our friend BarkieDawg's recent passing and all the moving tributes that have been given, I've decided to take a cue from the media.

As some of you know, many news outlets pre-produce obits for major public figures who are close to death. That way, when they do croak, all the newsies have to do is insert the date and it's ready to go. I always like to be prepared, so I thought I'd do the same for a few of my fans:


RevRee: Reverious Q. Dyckerson (a.k.a. "RevRee"), beloved wife of Mightonimous Dyckerson III, died today of complications from a bad uterus. RevRee will be sealed in a giant Caramello wrapper and buried at Forest Lawn's Half-&-Half Cemetery. In lieu of flowers, donations should be made to the Don't Make My Uterus Go Bad Foundation.


Little Lamb: Liliputia Lambowski (a.k.a. "Lambo") died of natural causes yesterday in a Florida state prison, where she was serving a life sentence for distributing images of animal pornography on her blog. Oh dear! A private service will be held.


Traffic Goddess: Trafficia G. Oddessa (a.k.a. "Traffic Goddess"), ex-wife of Mightonimous Dyckerson III, was killed in the line of duty last week. While on a routine traffic stop, she was run over by an out-of-control Volkswagen Beetle filled with drunken clowns. No charges have been filed, because hey, how can you hate a car full of clowns?


HushHush: Hushetta H. Hushington (a.k.a. "HushHush"), mistress of Mightonimous Dyckerson III, died from undiagnosed breast cancer yesterday. Hush's life could have been saved if the cancer had been caught earlier, but unfortunately, she refused to show her doctor her ta-ta's.


East Coast Producer: East Coast Producer (a.k.a. "East Coast Producer") died of an apparent suicide today in his studio apartment. ECP, who had been out of work for nearly 12 years, was apparently distraught over the recent banning of his "partner" Mightonimous Dyckerson III from an Internets message board.


Bill The Cat: Bill The Cat (a.k.a. "Ron Mexico", "Don Magic Juan", "Mighty Dyckerson Slayer", "StormGod", "Scooter78") was killed in crossfire yesterday when a race demonstration he was leading turned to violence. Mr. Cat, who lived in an underground bunker on the outskirts of town, will not be missed.


R.I.P., BarkieDawg

For those of you who don't know, "BarkieDawg" was a veteran TV producer and a frequent poster on Medialine's message board. He was could be stubborn and opinionated when it came to politics or business, but he was also kind, funny, and generous with his time. We just found out he passed away last month.

I never met the man, and didn't even know much about him until about a year ago. But as many of you Medialiners know, I insult everybody at one time or another. It's never personal, but too often it is taken that way. Well one day, one of my jabs was aimed at ole Barkie. I don't remember exactly what I said (probably an age joke), but I do remember how he responded. I went to check my PM box one day, and there's a message from BarkieDawg himself. I thought, "Great. Here's another asshole who wants to tear me a new one." But that wasn't the case. Instead, he complimented my sense of humor and shared a little piece of himself as well. I PM'd him back, and we became online friends. We kidded each other openly and in PM's, and he offered me some valuable advice, as he did for many. I teased him mercilessly about his artificial legs (he was a diabetic), but rather than take offense, he'd laugh his ass off. Certain others could stand to learn something from that.
Here are a few classic Barkie threads from Medialine...

Barkie on TV ratings

Barkie on TV directing

Barkie on Hollywood

Barkie on NASA

Barkie on business

Barkie on peanut butter - take 1

Barkie on peanut butter - take 2

Barkie on relieving stress

Here's to you, old man. You have my everlasting respect. Woof!

The Game Is NOT Over

I know you're reading this, so listen up, "Bill the Cat." You seem to be under the impression that you've won something. Actually, you've won nothing. You're a loser, and probably always will be.

While it is true that I'm currently "banned" from Medialine, it is also true that I have been "banned" many times. I assure you, Mighty Dyckerson is not going anywhere. Neither are all of Dyckerson's loyal friends and allies, who refuse to be threatened and harrassed by a coward who starts a bullshit blog and refuses to let anyone respond. I am not going to walk on eggshells in the name of "polical correctness" because of retards like you who are still living in the 1800's.

So I tell you what. You just continue your pathetic little "campaign" and see how far you get. Or better yet, take all your "documents" and wipe your ass with them. Or better still, why don't you stop being a victim for once, get off unemployment, and find a fucking job? Find something useful to do to earn a living, instead of trying to cash in on your so-called victimization with frivilous and unfounded lawsuits.

Dyckerson has spoken.


Good God Almighty!

Dyckerson is not a big sports fan, but I recently found myself watching the weekend sports on the local ABC station here in town, and I am in love. Check it!!

Her name is Dawn Davenport (although it will soon become Dawn Dyckerson), and she's new to town. The station's website indicates that she is from Georgia and is a fan of the Atlanta Braves and Falcons.

Now, I need to impress this chick, but as I said, I know nothing about sports. So quick. Somebody out there tell me something about these teams. Who are they and what sport do they play? What are some of the players' names? What color are their uniforms??

And please hurry. I don't want to lose out on this fine piece of ass!


Dyck Chat!

I thought we'd try out the chat feature of Dyckerblog tonight. I'll be there around 8pm EDT, so stop on by if you're in the neighorhood. (Registration is required to get in the chat room.)

See you there, losers!!!


Community Calendar

Here's a look at some events taking place this weekend:

First Divided Presbyterian Church is holding a bake sale to raise money for the purchase of a new organ. Their old organ, a pancreas dating back to the late 1880s, has developed inoperable cancer. Sat., 2-4pm.

The Masturbators Enthusiasts Club is having an informational meeting for new members in conference room at the Kleenex factory on route 10. Following the meeting will be a lecture by Dr. Kenneth Long entitled "Blisters: The Hidden Enemy." Sun., 6pm.

"Little Lamb" returns to the Fuzzy Pole Gentlemen's Club. $10 cover charge. Must be 18 or older. Reservations recommended. Sat.-Sun., 9pm & 10pm.

The 3rd Annual Willett's Farm Fall Apple Harvest is this weekend. Willett's Farm was torn down last summer to make room for a new Wal-Mart, so this year's festivities will take place at the Econo Lodge at Main and 4th. Attendees are advised to bring their own apples. Sat-Sun, 1-6pm.

Dyck Haters Anonymous will hold elections for its new officers in cell block A at the county lockup. Candidates for president include Don "Don't Call Me Coon" Juan and Ron "The Spade" Mexico. Sat., 3am.

The local chapter of the Crypts street gang is sponsoring "Looting for the Homeless" to benefit the victims of Hurricane Andrew. For a $25 fee, participants will be given fifteen minutes to trash Grandma Mabel's General Store in Cooterville. Those who know Grandma Mabel are asked not to tell her about this. Sun., 11am.

And that's what's happening this weekend!!!


Describe Your Genitals

I don't have any new material for today, so instead, I'm turning the floor over to all of you. Your task: In 100 words or less, describe your genitalia. What do they look like? Do they have an odor? And most importantly, what do your genitalia mean to you?

Happy Birthday Traffic Goddess!!

Just a quick shout-out to my dear, dear friend TG. Congrats on yet another birthday, babe! You look pretty good for a woman your age!


Leave Me The Fuck Alone!

Not a day goes by at work without some idiot co-worker collecting money to buy a gift for some other schmuck. If it's not somebody's birthday, it's somebody else's anniversary. Or someone's leaving for another job, and we couldn't possibly let them go without a going-away present. Or look, Harvey from Marketing passed a kidney stone - let's buy him a toaster oven! Didja hear about Martha in Accounting? Her grandmother dropped dead - let's get her flowers! Then there's the collections for employee's kids' shit - Girl Scout cookies, band uniforms, canned food drives... Wait, what's this? Little Timmy got his first pube, and you're collecting to buy him an iPod??! I've never even fucking met these people! FUCK OFF!!!

And today, it was yet another goddam baby shower. You see, on top of everything else, half the women I work with are fucking pregnant. I am not kidding. Half of them are fucking pregnant.

I don't mind the occasional passing of the hat if it's for a worthwhile cause, like boob jobs for flat-chested teenage girls. But these assholes are nickel-&-diming me to death! And it's not like they ever did anything for me - and guess what!! I don't want them to!!! Why not?? Because my personal life is just that... PERSONAL. What a concept!!

Instead of cash, the next pregnant bitch with a baby shower is getting a special gift from me: A jar of spermicide and a pack of rubbers.


Help Wanted

Dyckerson is a busy, busy man. Between my enormously successful blog, my brand-new message board, and my many guest appearances on other site, there just aren't enough hours in the day. I can't be everywhere at once, and God forbid I get sick, go on vacation, or have a computer meltdown!

For this reason, I've decided to delegate. That's right. I'm hiring another Dyckerson. I'm looking for someone intelligent, witty, and charming who can post on my behalf. This person will be entrusted with my user name and password, and for all intents and purposes, will be another Dyckerson.

Here are some of the qualifications I'm looking for:
  • Excellent verbal and non-verbal communication skills
  • Highly motivated self-starter
  • Female, age 18-21
  • Ability to type at least 40wpm
  • Proficiency in I.E., Firefox, and/or Netscape
  • Extremely large breasts
  • Available nights and weekends
  • 1-2 years experience with Dyck (in-house training will be provided)
In addition, the successful candidate must pass a background check, or at least be very sorry for whatever you've done and promise not to do it again. Interested parties may submit a resume, 20 references, cover letter, and 8x10 glossy to:

Dyckerson OmniMedia
100 Dyck Way
Dyckersonville, Dyckerstan 69690

Deadline: October 20, 2005

Dyckerson OmniMedia is an Equal Opportunity Offender (EEO).


Porn Is For The Living!

So I had this uncle who croaked a few weeks ago. (Don't worry, I didn't know him that well...and he didn't leave me a dime.) He was a really old guy and a widower - a veteran, served in Korea, yadda yadda yadda.

Anyway, my mom is telling me how they're helping his relatives go through all his shit, and they run across a TON of old Playboy magazines!! In fact, this geezer had a subscription paid in full up through 2009!! Not only that, but they find a trunk full of all this porn - we're talking the good stuff, too!! So I casually ask mom what they plan on doing with all of that (wink, wink). She says she doesn't know, but that they'll probably throw it out. I'm about to be sick!!

Then I ask her about the paid Playboy subscription through 2009. She said they called the company about the subscription, and the operator asked if there was someone else in the family who'd like to start receiving the magazine. They said no, just send a refund. Now I'm about to die!!!

Now, I ask you, what would you do in this situation? You've got a bunch of grieving old people sitting on a mountain of primo porn that's just going to waste, and here I am...a warm-blooded male at his sexual peak. How do I tactfully ask them if I can have it? After all, shouldn't the porn collection should stay in the family and be put to good use?? I think Uncle Dyckerson would've wanted it that way...


It's Here!

My message board, that is! It's a little place we like to call Dyckersonville. Come on by and pay us a visit! If this doesn't satisfy your thirst for Dyck, nothing will! Many thanks to PoliceHub's Locokarma for helping to set this up. Loco, you are a true Dyckerson fan!!

By the way, the URL is a little messy, so make sure you bookmark the site! And tell your friends!!!

Here's a little something special for Bill the Cat:


Trauma In The Water

As I was scrubbing my filthy bath tub last night, I was reminded of an interesting story from a while back...

Seems I snagged an invitation to a private party for a bunch of TV folks. I figured, what the hell? So I go to the party, and everything is pretty boring for most of the evening. But the guy throwing the party had a hot tub, so a few of us finally decided to liven things up by stripping naked and jumping in!

So all of us are in this hot tub for a while, having a good time. A few people eventually get out, so I'm left alone in there with this really hot chick and this dude who's yakking on his cell phone. I don't even know these people!! The chick glances down at my enormous manhood and starts caressing it. Next thing I know, she's on top of me, and we're going at it - right there in the hot tub, in front of all these people!

Now everybody's watching and pointing and laughing... when all the sudden, out of the corner of my eye, I see another chick who's been sitting on the deck and fondling herself the whole time! So I yell over to her, "Hey babe, why don't you come and join us?" So she gets up, struts over to the hot tub, and starts peeling away her clothes to reveal her lovely caramel skin.

When she gets to her panties, she slowly slides them off to reveal her sweetness. Then she hands me the panties and she descends into the hot tub with us. She starts to mount me, but then I get a whiff of something so disgusting and offensive, I immediately jump out of the hot tub, still naked, with my now-flaccid schlong flapping in the breeze. I ask, "What the hell is that smell?!"

The caramel chick turns bright red with embarrassment and apologizes. "I'm sorry, but I was at the laundromat earlier today, and when I came back to pick up my clothes, this dirty old guy was wearing my panties!!"
So then I leave, and she screws the guy with the cell phone.


X-Box or Playstation?

I'm thinking about getting one of these deals. I hear they've come a long way since the days of Centipede and Ms. Pac-Man. I know X-Box is Microsoft and Playstation is Sony... and I know they're both coming out with newer versions for Christmas... but I don't really care about having the latest and greatest.

So speak to me, people. Should I get one, and if so, which one should I get? What are the best games? I want answers, and I want them now.


Some Housekeeping

First off, the DyckBlog Network continues to grow! A newbie photog has just started his own blog and has begged Dyckerson for a plug. Poor kid has no shame, but I gotta admire his chutzpah. He calls himself Iron Shoulder (he must watch a lot of the Food Network), and his blog is linked in my sidebar. And a special note to all members of the DyckerBlog Network: I've created a DBN logo that you use to pimp up your blog! No need to thank me. Let me know if you need the code.

Secondly, many of you have been closely following my misadventures with Comcast. Here's the latest. Today they were supposed to send a flunkie to my house, but since I already fixed the problem, I blew them off. At last check, the service box outside was still unlocked. But so far, nobody has fucked with my cable, knock on wood. My plan is to create a separate blog so I can post all kinds of crap about the people in my building. Then I'll go around door to door and post anonymous flyers with the URL on it. Their curiosity will get the best of them, and they'll log on to read all my rants!!!

And finally, the Anti-Dyck movement seems to be losing steam quickly, as predicted. Their pathetic little blog has a total of zero comments. Hopefully they've realized the futility of their efforts and slithered away. Thanks to all of you for your unwavering support of Dyckerson during this difficult time!!


Inside Dyckerson

Recently I sat down for an interview with Matt Lauer from The Today Show. Here is the transcript:

Matt: Thank you for agreeing to talk with us. I know you're a busy man.
Dyckerson: Oh, you're entirely welcome. I can always make time for my public.
Matt: So tell me, Dyckerson. You're a message board icon. You're the host of Medialine Feud. And now you have your own blog. What's that like?
Dyckerson: It's crazy, Matt! Just crazy!! I mean, it's all happening so fast. One day, I'm just a poor kid struggling to make it in this business... and now... well, it's just great. I'm very lucky.
Matt: And I would add modest to that. But lately you've been the subject of some harsh criticism. Let me read you a quote from the Dyckerson Sucks blog: "In time you will bow to us, the unclean non-believers. Once you are ready to call a truce and behave like a human, post it here and I will call off the dogs, until then you will fell our wrath." How do you react to that?
Dyckerson: Well, Matt, as you know, when you get to be a celebrity, you have to put up with these kinds of things. It can be scary sometimes, especially with the paparazzi and all. There's not much privacy.
Matt: Has it affected your family?
Dyckerson: Not really. (Climbs on couch.) Fortunately, my wives RevRee and Traffic Goddess have helped me get through this. They are my strength, and I couldn't do this without them.
Matt: I'm sure that's a comfort, but these people are clearly in need of psychological help. Wouldn't you agree?
Dyckerson: Oh, come now. Next you'll be telling me they need to be taking those mind-altering prescription drugs. Psychology is all in your head. Look, these people are just plain nuts.
Matt: So you're denying that there's a benefit to...
Dyckerson: Matthew, Matthew, Matthew! You haven't done your homework! You don't know psychology! I do!!
Matt: Perhaps we should change the subject. Let's talk about the future. What's next for Dyckerson?
Dyckerson: Well, I just got finished doing a benefit for the victims of Hurricane Shitface. Now I'm going to take a little time off to work on a screenplay. It's going to be a movie based on my blog. Sandra Bullock is playing Traffic Goddess, and Halle Berry has just signed up for the part of RevRee. I'm very excited!
Matt: You are an inspiraton to us all.
Dyckerson: Please, Matt. That's really not necessary.
Matt: Well thank you so much for stopping by this early in the morning...
Dyckerson: Hey Matt, before I go, can I ask you something?
Matt: Sure.
Dyckerson: What's Katie really like?
Matt: God, she's a fucking bitch. Did you see where she had the mammogram on the show last week? Nauseating.
Dyckerson: Yeah, that's what I thought too. A total asshole.
Matt: Word. OK, now here's Al with the weather.


The Price of Fame

It seems I have a psychopath who's obsessing over me. This little douchebag goes by several different names - about a dozen at last count, including Bill the Cat, Village Idiot, Stormgod, Don Magic Juan, Scooter78, and many others. And he uses these names to talk shit about me where ever I go. He's even gone so far to create a crappy little blog in my honor. I felt so sorry for the jackass, I even added a link in my sidebar.

This misguided, misinformed little freak doesn't understand why his many usernames have been banned from Medialine, while Mighty Dyckerson lives on. This dipshit even thinks I'm the moderator!! If this dude doesn't get it by now, he never will. He's either playing some elaborate joke that only he gets... or he's truly insane. In either case, I've given him enough of my valuable time. But feel free to read his ramblings at your leisure. I guarantee it'll be good for a laugh or three!


New Features!!!

It's a rainy, shitty day here in Dyckersonville, so I decided to add a few enhancements to the Internet's fastest growing blog!!

First, I've added a collection of some of my favorite threads from various message boards. (Unfortunately, the really good ones were long ago deleted by moderators.) There's a link on the sidebar, or just click here. Make sure you check back for additions!

Next, find out what's going on with Dyckerson before anyone else by subscribing to the Dyckerson Mailing List for a selection of Dyckerson's favorite message board threads!!!
Do it NOW, motherfuckers!!!

Fuck Comcast

OK, this is an all-out war. I am so fucking pissed, I'm ready to have a coronary.

First, let me preface this post by saying that everything I post on DyckerBlog is based on real experiences in my life. I make nothing up. Sure, I add the occasional embellishment here and there. But otherwise, everything is 100% true. Now on wth the rant!!

I pay Comcast over 120 fucking dollars a month for digital cable, a DVR, and high-speed internet access. For the last several months, there have been periods of time when I get a crappy cable signal. Analog channels were all grainy and hi-def channels were nonexistent. But it was very sporatic, and I didn't feel like taking time off from work to wait at home between the hours of 8am and New Year's Eve for the pothead cable guy to come by and tweak a screw... or screw a tweak. Take your pick.

Finally, this past week, I'd had enough. I called the Comcast bastards and set up an appointment. Thursday afternoon, the dude comes by, spends all of five seconds looking at my signal, and goes out to the service box on the exterior of the building. (As some of you may recall, I live in a condo).

Now, let me explain how this works, because it's important to the story. There is one main cable coming up from the ground. That cable goes into this service box. In service box, the main signal gets amplified (I hope) and separated into eight separate lines, one for each unit in the building. OK, so now you know. So cable dude opens the service box (which is NOT LOCKED, mind you), fiddles around for a few minutes, and comes back in. He says, "Yo, man. I just switched your connection with somebody else's, so hopefully that'll fix 'er." (Great. So you really didn't do anything.) Then he adds, "Now you might have this problem again, 'cause one of your neighbors might call and complain... and another tech will come out here and switch 'em around again." (Fantastic. Thanks a lot, homey.) Anyway, I had to get back to work, so I didn't have time to tell this guy what an idiot he and his company is for having this shoddy setup to begin with.

Well, everything was fine til I got home from work tonight (Friday). I grab a cold one from the frig, prop my feet up on the coffee table, and turn on the big-screen to catch Gilmore Girls*. Nothing. Nada. I remembered what cable dude said about the switcheroo game and the neighbors, and I am pissed. Somebody has been fucking with the cable.

So I get on the horn to Comcast calmly explain that I have no signal. Operator says, "Did you check the connection to your TV?" (OF COURSE I DID, YOU FUCKING MORON BITCH!! YOU THINK I'M GODDAM RETARDED?!!) She continues, "Well we don't see an outage in your area. The earliest we can send someone out is Tuesday." (WHAT THE FUCK?! YOU THINK I'M GOING TO SIT HERE ALL WEEKEND WITH NO CABLE AND NO INTERNET WHEN I KNOW DAMN WELL SOMEBODY'S BEEN FUCKING WITH THAT BOX? BULLSHIT!!!)

At this point, I can see I'll have to take matters into my own hands. I grab my keys and my flip-flops and head outside for the service box. (May I also add here that it's pouring rain outside.) I figured that since the box was unlocked the day before, I should have no problem getting in there. Well guess what. It's locked. Somebody's definitely been fucking around here. But now I can't get in to the damned box. And I'm wet.

Not to be deterred, I go back in, rummage through my shit, and try to find something I can use to pry open the box. Five hundred tools and nothing works. Fine, I ain't done yet. I hop in the trusty Jeep and head to the local Lowe's, where I purchase a pry bar. That's right, a pry bar. I'm pretty much losing control by now. Once I'm back home, I venture back outside (it's a fucking monsoon outside by now), and try out my investment on the box. One...two...three! GOT IT!! The box is open!!!

I take a quick survey of the situation, studying the spaghetti of black coax that's crammed in the box. Not pretty, but not complicated either. I see there's one unmarked cable that's not hooked up to the distribution amp. It's just laying loose in there. Hmm. Let's give it a try. So I connect the cable to one of the unused outputs on the D.A., peak in my window to see my TV, and voila. I have cable.

Now the title of this thread is "Fuck Comcast." And Comcast could use a good fucking for various reasons... and they will be dealt with when they come by again next week. But I suspect that the tampering that went on today may have been the work of neighbors. I could be wrong, but it seems awfully strange that MY cable would be completely disconnected, just ONE DAY after having the cable dude out here. That, plus the fact that I have some shitty neighbors.** These assholes need to be dealt with, and I have a revolutionary idea of how to do just that...


you'll have to tune in next week to see what happens!!!!

* Yeah. Gilmore Girls. You got a problem with that???
** See 09/25/05 post entitled, "Fuck Neighbors"


Katie Couric And Her Boobs

I'm getting ready for work this morning, trying to decide which pair of Docker's I should put on. I have The Today Show on in the background*, as I usually do, so I can catch the local weather updates. Little did I know what was in store...

Apparently, October is "Tit Lump Awareness Month," because they're doing some feature on women and breast cancer. Only it's not enough to just talk about it and maybe show a few tasteful graphics. Nope, not for Katie. She decides she needs to have a mammogram done on national TV. Now, if this woman were 15 years younger, this would be my lucky day. But Katie is in her fifties, for Chrissakes. I have no interest in seeing her saggy, wrinkled bazooms while I'm eating my Fruit Loops**.

So away she goes, turning her back to the camera and removing the hospital gown to reveal her age spot-covered back. Flashbacks of her colonoscopy enter my mind...and soon, my Fruit Loops exit my stomach via my mouth. Too add insult to injury, they zoom in on her X-rays so I can see her droopy rack in living color. I'm telling you, it's enough to make this Dyckerson want to change teams!!!

From now on, I'm listening to the radio in the morning.

*This happens to be the same TV I'm trying to unload (see 09/30/05 post entitled "Liquidation Sale").
**I don't really eat Fruit Loops for breakfast. I chose that brand purely for comedic effect.


Fuck Co-Workers!

I've got a jackass here at work who spent 5 days fucking up a bunch of code I had written for a software enhancement. He rewrote a bunch of shit, thereby fucking up other programs that I worked on that share the same code. Why??? Because he didn't understand it. And rather than ASKING ME what I had done, he assumes it's WRONG and takes it upon himself to rewrite it all. Well guess what, Pepe! When all the goddam bug reports start coming in, I'm going to forward every fucking one of them to your ass!!! Have fun this weekend, you monkeylovin' retarded sack of SHIT!!!

Meanwhile, I'm losing the shirt off my back as my fucking stocks continue to PLUMMET!!!


Fuck Stocks!

Jesus Christ, what a day!! Dyckerson's portfolio took quite a beating! Google is down... Oil stocks are down... A whole year's gain right down the shitter!! I tried to jump out my damn window, but I work on the first floor - didn't even get bruised.

Should I ride it out, or sell and cut my losses? Or maybe take advantage of the low prices and buy, buy, buy??


List Of Stars I'd Like To Sleep With (In No Particular Order)

This is by all means not a complete list, but it's all I could think of for now. I'll add others as I think of them:


Everybody Kwang Chang Tonight

As I was getting my hair cut yesterday, I was reminded of an experience I recently recounted on Medialine. Unfortunately, that thread was removed (undoubtedly due to pressure from the Bald-Is-Beautiful interest groups). So I thought I would re-tell that story for the benefit of those who might have missed it.


It's a warm, sunny summer Saturday - perfect day for a good ole-fashioned hair cut. I'm sitting in Fadool's Barber Shop and waiting for my turn in one of the well-worn, yet oddly comfortable chairs, reading a two-year-old copy of some hunting & fishing magazine. Who do we have at bat today? We've got three middle-aged men and one woman of Asian descent. Enter Kwang Ae Chang.

Being the constant observer that I am, I notice Kwang finishing up with a customer. Customer gets out of the chair, reaches for his wallet, and forks over the cash. Kwang gratefully takes the cash, deposits it in the klunky old register, and gestures for the next customer. He waves a "no thanks," indicating that he's waiting for one of the male barbers. Thanks a lot. That means I'm next. So Kwang looks at me, and as I look deeply in her eyes, I can tell she's saying, "Please, Dyckerson. Do not forsake me like that other gentleman. I am but a simple woman who came to your country in hopes of living a humble life as a haircutter. I do not ask for much. Just allow me to trim your follicles."

Now how can I guy turn her away? So I put down my copy of Bass Weekly and head for the chair. Everything proceeds like a normal haircut. A little off the top; tapered on the sides and the back. Nothing fancy here. It is at the end of the haircut that things take an odd turn.

After she finishes cutting, I'm all prepared to get up and reach for my wallet, just like her previous customer had done. But lo and behold, what is this?!! I feel her hands around my neck!! What in the world is she doing? Wait a minute, hold the phone... She's SQUEEZING my neck!! OUCH, what the fuck?!! Holy Jesus in Heaven above, why is this chink squeezing my neck?!!

I'm speechless. All I can do is sit here being held captive in a barber's chair lifted 3 feet off the ground. Seconds feel like hours as she squeezes my neck not once, but TWICE. I've had a lot of haircuts in my time, but never in my life have I gotten the Chinese neck torture. What is this?? The barber version of the "happy ending"?? I've never felt so dirty and violated in my life. Finally, she lowers the chair, and I stumble to my feet, still shaking from this unsolicited and quiet painful physical contact. I quickly pay the fifteen bucks and get the hell out of there.


So that's the story. I have returned to Fadool's several times since then, and thankfully I've yet to re-encounter the infamous Kwang Chang. But I every time I see a barber pole, I am haunted by her memory. I don't know if there's a support group for people who've gone through this... but dammit, there oughtta be.


Mighty Dyckerson: Nature Lover

Yesterday, I decided to play hooky from work (and the ever-flatulent "Mr. Wong") to enjoy a beautiful fall day in the sun. I ventured out to the serene Pony Pasture down by the James River here in Richmond, where the water level was low because of the drought here. I climbed on the exposed rocks and managed to take a picture or two with my trusty camera phone. So by popular request, here is a sampling:

This third photo is a little odd. I was perched atop a large boulder with my camera, hoping to capture a gentle ripple on the water's surface... when out of nowhere, this menacing creature appears before me!! Too bad my Bemis* wasn't nearby, because I damn near crapped myself!! Wowee!!!!

*See 09/28/05 post entitled "Toilet Troubles."