Death Watch

I went for my physical last February. They drew blood, listened to my chest, felt my nuts, and probed my anus...and that was just in the waiting room!! But seriously, folks. Everything turned out OK, but the blood work showed I had high cholesterol. This was not surprising, as it runs in my mother's family...that fucking bitch. So the Doc told me the usual shit - "Eat right, exercise, don't smoke, and don't drink." (Well, I don't smoke and I don't drink, but thanks anyway, Copernicus.) He also prescribed something called Advicor. Then as a joke, I asked my doctor if Advicor was right for me, and he said "Shut the fuck up, asshole!"

Anyway, for the last few months, I've been taking the little beige pills and watching my diet (sometimes) and exercising (occasionally). I went back for a follow-up siphoning last week, and the results came in the mail today. My life is hanging in the balance here, and the bastards send me a cheap little post card. Couldn't even spring for a goddam envelope. There's good news and bad news. See for yourself:

Total Cholesterol: 237
Goal is less than 200. Down 28 points from February.

HDL (Good Cholesterol): 51
Goal is greater than 40. Up 11 points from February.

LDL (Bad Cholesterol): 121
Goal is less than 100. Down 31 points from February.

Triglycerides: 324
Goal is less than 200. Down 41 points from February.

The good news is, the bad numbers are down. The bad news is, they're not down enough. Especially the triglycerides. People, I don't know what the fuck else to do. Every morning I drink a cup of green tea with a Nutri-Grain bar. Lunch is a Slim-Fast bar. Afternoon snack is a piece of fruit. Water to drink throughout the day. Dinner is the only real meal I eat, and I'll admit it's not always healthy. A Diet Vanilla Pepsi with dinner. Even so, I eat salad at least 2 nights a week, and I rarely eat fried shit. My main problems are the night-time snacking (Doritos and sweets) and the lack of exercise.

People, I don't know what the fuck else to do. I work in a goddamn cube farm all day, and it's dark by fucking NOON...so it's hard to get any exercise. I go for walks during my lunch break if it's not raining or 20 below zero. I have no fucking energy at night. (I swear, sitting at a desk all day is more draining than you'd believe.) I really don't want to be on fucking pills the rest of my life, but I am at a loss as to what else to do. I'm too stingy to pay for a nutritionist, personal trainer, or any of that shit. So I turn to you, my loyal fans. What am I doing wrong? What should I be doing? What's my life expectancy if this keeps up? Give it to me straight.


Dyckerson Thanksgiving '05

I have survived another one.

Every year for the last 6 or 7 years, brother Dyckerson has hosted Thanksgiving at his house. So it's my brother, his wife, their 5-year-old kid (my niece), his wife's parents, and my mom. Nothing fancy, just a traditional Thanksgiving meal with my whackjob relatives. Today was no different, with a few exceptions.

This year, we initiated a new member to the group. She's my sister-in-law's sister, I think...although I don't remember. She might have been her cousin. Or she could've been both (they're from the south). Anyway, she's single (presumably no boyfriend) and just moved to our area. As we're being introduced, I'm thinking this is an ambush - Brother Dyckerson is trying to set us up. But she's actually a decent looking chick about my age with a nice body and personality. She was wearing tight jeans and a white blouse with the top two or three buttons unbuttoned to reveal a hint of her more-than-adequate bosom. I didn't have much chance to get any information out of her, because (1) my niece was running around like a maniac the entire time, and (2) I feel a little funny trying to seduce a woman with Mother Dyckerson sitting five feet away.

The other exception to the normal Thanksgiving routine was the neverending delay of the meal. We were all told to get there promptly at 1:00, and that lunch would be around 2:00. Well, I got there at 1:05 right on the dot, and lunch was served around 3:30. ONE AND A HALF FUCKING HOURS LATE!!! Don't ask me why - some crisis with the stuffing, I suppose. Anyway, for the majority of the time before lunch, we are forced to sit through a series of home videos featuring my niece doing a variety of cute things. Don't get me wrong, she really is cute, and some of the videos were quite humorous. But TWO HOURS of that shit is torture.

Finally, the meal is served. There is no blessing. No taking turns saying what we're thankful for. Just food, and lots of it. Turkey, stuffing, ham biscuits, mashed potatoes, yams, mac & cheese, corn, green beans, and 17 kinds of pie for dessert. I'm seated in between my niece and the new chick, so at one point I slipped a hand down the new chick's blouse for fun. She gasped, and I told her it was an accident - that I was simply reaching for the yams. I think she bought it. So later I slipped my other hand down my niece's blouse. (OK, part of this paragraph is made up...I'll let you figure out which part.)

So we all gulp down our food in about four minutes and retire to the family room for the afterglow. I guess that's what you call it. We all just kinda sit around, adjust our pants, and compare gravy stains. We talk about family members who've croaked in the last year and place bets on who will be next. (I put down ten clams on Aunt Edna.) Football is playing on the big screen, but you can't see it because the niece is still running around like a chicken with its head cut off. During a commercial, I get up to go to the crapper, and on the way I whip out my enormous schlong and wiggle it in the new chick's face. She grabs it, gives it a quick lick, and flashes her tits in return. (OK, part of this paragraph is made up too...but my schlong really is enormous.)

Another hour passes, and finally we say our goodbyes. Another Thanksgiving come and gone. As for the new chick, I suppose I could call my brother and get her number. But I don't know if I'd feel comfortable pursuing a woman that's so close to his wife's family. I mean, what if it didn't work out?? Besides, I don't even know if she's really available. So I've decided to stalk her instead. And if she comes to the house for Christmas, I'll do her on top of my brother's washing machine. And I'll videotape it for the family to watch next Thanksgiving.


My life is incomplete.

I am 33 years old. I own a house and a car and a thriving business. I'm a beloved icon known by millions on the Internets. But it's not enough. I feel I'm missing something. And that something is a woman.

Now most of you know me as the witty, wisecracking Dyckerson from the message boards. But there is another side to Dyckerson.....a Dyckerson who is warm, kind, compassionate, and caring......an intelligent, sincere, passionate Dyckerson. Yet somehow true love has eluded me all these years. I know, I know. Seems impossible to believe. But alas, it is true.

I don't know what it is. Maybe the ladies are intimidated by my fame, my charm, and my rugged good looks. Or perhaps every woman I've ever met is a lesbian. Your guess is as good as mine. But the future Mrs. Dyckerson is out there, and I am determined to track her down. Apparently she isn't going to come knocking on my door, so I must get out there and find her myself.

This is where you come in, fellow bloggers. I need your advice. Where do I go to find this chick? What do I wear? What do I say when I meet her? How soon should I expect to get some action? How can I get her to sign a prenup without being offended?

Please help!!


I have been violated...AGAIN!!!

Some of you may remember my post about Kwang Chang, the barber from Hell. You can read about Kwang here. This is the woman who traumatized me after cutting my hair last summer at Fadool's Barber Shoppe. I have managed to elude her on subsequent visits, but today, she was back with a vengeance.

When I opened the big glass door and walked into Fadool's, there she was. The three other male barbers all had customers, but Kwang had been waiting for me. It's almost as if she was expecting me to walk in the door that very moment. Our eyes locked, and I froze. She gestured toward me, and I soon found myself in the chair of torture.

While she began to trim my follicles, I braced myself for the inevitable. I thought I was ready, but this time, she threw me some curve balls. (I suspect she had been tipped off about my previous blog entry by a member of the anti-Dyckerson coalition.) First off, she proceeded to apply some gel-like substance to my head, and as God as my witness, I swear it was duck sauce. It sure as hell looked like it. So she worked the goo into my head, and then, using a small hand towel, she violently buffed my head like a champion bowler polishing his prized ball before a big tournament. She created so much friction, I was afraid the chemicals in the hair goo would ignite and engulf my head in flames.

At this point, my neck was fully clenched in preparation for the death squeeze. But ole Kwang must've sensed this, because she went for the shoulders instead...and her grip was tighter than ever. Shivers of terror ran up and down my spine. I wouldn't be surprised if she had been working out all this time in anticipation of my return. The pain was exquisite, and it was all I could do to keep from screaming out in terror. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally released me from her grip, giving me just enough time to make my getaway. I threw something in the air (I think it was money...) and quickly scurry out the door.

Now this is TWICE. Twice I have been manhandled by this dragon lady with scissors. This woman is dangerous and a menace to society. It's only a matter of time before she strikes again. So Dyckerson fans, I'm calling on you to unite. We must start a campaign to get this woman ousted, and we must do it NOW. Send your letters, emails, and post cards to Fadool's Barber Shoppe and let them know you want Kwang Chang out!!!

(By the way, as it turns out, duck sauce makes great hair gel. Tasty too.)


Bush's Baked Beans

I want to kill this fucking jackass.

The first commercial with the talking dog was cute, I'll give you that. But that was what, 10 fucking years ago?? Dude, it's not cute anymore. Get some new fucking material. Got it????

And hire a professional actor, because you're not cute either - you're fucking CHEAP. This isn't a local ad for a used car dealership. It's a fucking NATIONAL AD, cutie pie. And you're not a fucking celebrity either. Celebrities get paid for their services, not the other way around.

Oh, and by the way, your fucking chili gives me heartburn and gas.


Guitar Lessons with Mighty Dyckerson

Lesson 1: Meet Your Guitar!

Welcome to the world of guitars! Guitars are exciting. They've been around for a long time...and by long, I mean at least 20 years. If you've ever listened to music, chances are you've heard a guitar at some point. But if you haven't listened to music, you probably haven't heard one. If this is the case, please go fuck yourself.

Now, let's familiarize ourselves with the guitar. As you can see in the photo on the right, the guitar is made up of parts. I don't know what most of them are called, but the only things you need to worry about are the string-like things in the middle. I call these "wires." When you touch the wires, they make noise. I can't really tell you why. But I recently found out you can create different noises by pressing down the wires on the neck-like thing which I call the "shaft." The first time I pressed down the wires on a guitar, there was an awful, awful noise. But the noise was coming from me. I was screaming my fucking head off because pressing on the wires hurt like bloody hell. (See next week's lesson on callouses.)

Many of your guitars feature a handy storage compartment. Unfortunately, the wires partially obscure the opening to the storage compartment. This is a major design flaw, and I hope it is corrected in future models. But I like to fill mine with Cheetos and munch on them while I'm playing. I encourage you to do the same.

Anyway, that about wraps up our first lesson. In conclusion, I would like to say that I'm drunk off my ass, and I really need to find a bathroom. Looks like that storage compartment will find another use tonight.


Sorry Britni, perhaps I was a little harsh

Now that I think about it, I kinda admire Britni's exhibitionism. I mean, what's wrong with showing a few nude photos of yourself on a blog? Nudity is natural. In fact, Britni has inspired me to share a revealing photo of yours truly. Here goes....

So there you go!! Come and get it, ladies!!!!

My Latest Cyberwar

....is with a chick who calls herself "Britni." I somehow stumbled upon her blog one day while navigating the DyckerBlog Network.

Britni appears to be a student at some college with very low standards, but there is no evidence to suggest she has ever attended a class. Instead, she spends all her free time flirting, going to parties, getting drunk, and fucking some loser guy. She's a skank, a slut, and an exhibitionist, and she's proud of it.

Now, I know what you're thinking: Dyck, what's the problem? She's every guy's dream!!" Under other circumstances, I might agree with you. But even Dyckerson has standards. Look at this chick. Sure, she has a decent body. But she sleeps with every guy she meets, so where's the challenge? Besides, I bet has every social disease known to man (and probably a few that haven't even been discovered yet). Jesus, I wouldn't fuck her with Rosie O'Donnell's dick!

What do you suppose Britni's parents think of her reckless behavior? Do they know they're wasting their hard-earned money sending this ho to college?? What do you think her major is? Theater? Art History? TV Journalism?? Am I alone in thinking this bimbo is a total sleaze?



First, I want to thank you all for coming here tonight. I promised you a big announcement, and a big announcement is what you're going to get. I know you're all dying to know what it is, so I'm not going to hold you in suspense any longer.

The big announcement is coming right up...
And when I say big, I mean this announcement is somewhat large...
On a scale of 1 to 7 (3 being the highest), I'd say this announcement is quite sizeable...
So without further ado, here it is...
But first, a few impressions...
Nah, I'm just kidding! The announcement is...
I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico!!!!!
Actually, that's not the big announcement at all...
That was just a joke...
I like jokes because they're funny...
The REAL announcement is...


Nah, I'm just kidding again...
Actually, I'm not!!! That is the big announcement! I have really been reinstated on Medialine!! That's right, Dyckerson fans!! Thanks to all of your tireless efforts in the BBMD Campaign, the ban has been lifted!! Your voices have been heard!!

I haven't made any official announcement on Medialine because I wanted all of you, my loyal supporters, to be the first to know. Dyckerson lives on!!!

And now, I'll take a few questions...

Tune in to DyckerBlog for a major press conference this evening. Folks, this is BIG. This conference will be simulposted on DyckerForum, and all DyckerBlog Network affiliates are encouraged to carry it as well.
That is all.


I'm Back, You Morons!

Greetings, Dyckerson fans! I have indeed returned from my spirtual journey deep within the heart of Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains. For three days, I immersed myself in the awe-inspiring, wonderous beauty that nature has to offer. And if I ever see a fucking mountain again, I swear I'll slit my throat with a plastic butterknife.

Here we have a lovely mountain photo taken from Shenandoah National Park. Look at all that prime real estate. I think it's the perfect spot for a Dyck-Mart and some high-rise condos! Gotta call my contractor!

I managed to grab the photo just moments before these cows were herded to the slaughterhouse. You can almost hear that one on the right saying "Please don't eat me"...

As you can see, the Meadow Muffin Carnival is coming up this Saturday. Hard to believe another year has flown by. Cow pie bingo is my favorite...

And on the right is my trusty Jeep. Temperatures were in the 70's, so I went topless all weekend. So did the Jeep...

I'm not quite sure what to make of this photo. I shot it with my cameraphone, so the image is a little blurry. I spotted this creature wandering near the dumpsters outside the Best Western where I was staying. If you ask me, the dude needs a shave...

And this last one is a little something special for RevRee. She wouldn't leave me alone until I showed her my tattoos.


Vacation Time!

Beginning Friday, Dyckerson will be taking a few days off to go on one of his nature retreats and rejuvenate. This time, I'll be returning the lovely Blue Ridge Mountains in southwest Virginia. The forecast calls for sunny skies and temps in the mid to upper 70s, so chances are I'll be taking the top off my trusty Jeep one last time this year! But fear not, Dyck fans, for I will be taking my cameraphone and camcorder, and you can look forward to a full recap upon my return on Sunday. That is, assuming I don't die of a heart attack before then.

In the meantime, keep spreading the word about DyckerBlog and DyckerForum!!!