Well it's hard to believe yet another year has gone by. So many great moments have been chronicled here. Almost 140 posts, and every one a classic. How does one go about selecting the best? A daunting task to say the least...but the staff of The Mighty Blog has combed through the archives and whittled down the list to the top ten. Ten incredible, unforgettable posts that defined Dyckerson in 2006. So join us now as we take a look back at this year's most memorable blog moments!

10. Fuck Geese - An amusing anecdote about my encounters with a pack of evil geese at the office park where I used to work.

9. Get The Fuck Out - Last March, one of my old co-workers at my old company resigned. I wouldn't be surprised if the prick was still there saying his goodbyes.

8. (TIE)

• Here We Go Again - Some people have no sense of humor. If you can't make jokes about beating up a little girl, dumping her body in the toilet, and urinating on her, then what CAN you make jokes about??!
• Fuck Richmond - An "American Idol" loser - I said LOSER - comes to my hometown, and all Hell breaks loose.

7. Pluto Responds - Remember when Pluto was downgraded from planet to dwarf planet? Well while the newsies were talking to professors and science geeks, I went straight to the source and landed THE interview!!

6. My Last Will And Testicle - Death is a real bitch. No one can escape it, so best prepare for the inevitable. And that's just what I did last May.

5. Don Henley Meltdown - The most recent post to make the top ten. This interview with the great Don Henley went downhill fast after he was heckled by my blog affiliates.

4. (TIE)

• What Are The Odds? - A quaint little tale about a day in the life of Dyckerson. A must-read for fans of all ages.
• Another Sensitive Post - Last September, I slipped in the bathtub and suffered a nasty blow to the head. The result: Sensitive Dyckerson. Warning: Not for the squeamish.

3. Fun With Spammers III: The New Blood - My personal favorite in the Fun With Spammers series, this installment involved our old friend "Barrister Kevin" from the Republic of Benin.

2. If I Did It - I'm not saying this is one of my favorite posts, but if it was, it would probably be somewhere around number two.


.....And the NUMBER ONE POST of 2006.....


1. This Country Is Fucked - Sometimes the comedy just writes itself. Case in point: my post on the absurdity that is Restless Legs Syndrome. Even my staunchest critics couldn't help but admire the brilliance of this piece. Special thanks to the folks at Requip for helping to make this post possible.


So that's it! Many thanks to those of you who voted, even though your votes did not count. May you all have a satisfactory 2007...and please, try not to do anything retarded, ok??

And as we bring this year to a close, I leave you with a poem of inspiration from our old friend Grandpa Dyckerson. Happy New Year!!!

Christmas '06: Gift Recap

Another Christmas has come and gone. For Dyckerson, Christmas is a time for giving...as in, other people giving me stuff. Each year following the big holiday, I like to take time to review the presents I have received. I will be rating each gift on a scale of 1 to 10 (10 being fantastic and 1 being utter crap). I will then take the average score for each present giver and use it to determine who I love the most. Let's begin.



From Mother Dyckerson:
A flashlight - One of those hand crank flashlights that require no batteries. A handy but cheapass item. (6.5)
A bottle of cologne - My body gives off its own naturally sweet aroma (just ask RevRee). Therefore I do not need cologne. Nor can I return it, because I have no idea where the fuck it came from. And if I ask her, she'll know what I'm up to. This is going in the re-gifting pile. ( 3.7)
A tin of store-bought cookies - I haven't tried them yet, so I have no idea how to rate this. For now, I'm going straight down the middle with this one. (5.0)
SCORE = 5.07

From Father Dyckerson:
A miniature Jeep Wrangler Rubicon - A nice thought, but it doesn't look anything like the actual DyckMobile, which is bronze in color and isn't a Rubi. Plus, mine has full doors...not the crappy half doors with the vinyl zip-up windows. Let's do a little better next time. ( 8.2)
A sweat suit - I actually asked for this. As predicted, he didn't get the kind I like. But he included a gift receipt in the box, so all is well. (7.7)
$150 cash - Other relatives, take note. This is what I call a Christmas present! ( 10.0)
SCORE = 8.63

From Brother Dyckerson:
A book about movies - What, are you kidding??! This fucking thing must be 500 pages long! And I can count on one hand how many movies I watched this year. (3.1)
A book about The Simpsons - Get a clue. I haven't watched that fucking show in ten years. ( 1.9)
A joke catalog for the Acme Supply Co. - Remember the Road Runner cartoons where Wile E. Coyote would order shit from Acme? Neither do I. (2.3)
$50 gift card to Borders - I guess my brother did all his shopping in one store this year. That's OK, I like gift cards - almost as good as cash. And at least now I know where to return the three books! ( 9.6)
SCORE = 3.00

From Niece Dyckerson (Age 6):
A wall-mounted key hook thing - I keep my keys in my pocket or on my dresser, but now I own this stupid thing. Her parents told me she picked it out herself, and I believe them. What a worthless piece of shit. But I guess I have to hang it up in case they come over. I'm going to use the hooks to display pictures of children I like better. ( 1.4)
A can of silly string - Finally, a present I can actually use! I used up my last can during a lovemaking session with Jmeped. This will come in handy in Beginning Clown I. I'll be the envy of all my classmates! ( 9.9)
A rock-hard boner - Yes, this is the same niece who aroused me on Thanksgiving by repeatedly jumping on my lap. Well she did it again yesterday, and I do believe her pelvic gyration talents have improved. Sometimes the best gifts can't be bought in stores. ( 8.2)
SCORE = 6.33

Well that's it. The scores have been calculated, and this year's winner is Father Dyckerson! That means the old man will be the recipient of all my love for the next 364 days. The rest of you can go to Hell.

Thursday on The Mighty Blog:

We'll begin counting down the top ten posts of 2006!
Will your favorite post make the list?? Tune in and find out, shitheads!!

Fun With Spammers IV: The Holiday Edition

***Updated 12/23***

I don't know about you, but to me, nothing spells Christmas like a little email spam! I haven't done this feature in a while, so here goes! Today's contestant is MISS LINDA MEHI of IVORY COAST WEST AFRICA. Linda writes:


DEAREST ONE

I AM MISS LINDA MEHI FROM IVORY COAST AND I AM CONTACTING YOU BECAUSE I NEED YOUR HELP IN THE MANAGEMENT OF A SUM OF MONEY THAT MY DEAD FATHER LEFT FOR ME BEFORE HE DIED.THIS MONEY IS USD 2.5 MILLION AMERICAN DOLLARS AND THE MONEY IS IN A BANK HERE IN ABIDJAN.

MY FATHER WAS A VERY RICH COCOA FARMER AND HE WAS POISONED BY HIS BUSINESS COLLEAGUES AND NOW I WANT YOU TO STAND AS MY GUIDIAN AND APPOINTED BENEFICIARY AND RECEIVE THE MONEY IN YOUR COUNTRY SINCE I AM ONLY 19 YEARS AND WITHOUT MOTHER OR FATHER.

PLEASE I WILL LIKE YOU TO REPLY TO THIS EMAIL SO THAT I WILL TELL YOU ALL THE INFORMATION SO THAT THIS MONEY WILL BE TRANSFERRED TO YOU SO THAT YOU WILL GET ME PAPERS TO TRAVEL TO YOUR COUNTRY TO CONTINUE MY EDUCATION THERE.WAITING FOR YOUR URGENT RESPONSE.

LINDA


Well Linda wants an urgent response...and that's just what she's gonna get! Read on:


MY DEAREST BELOVED LINDA

I AM MISTER MIGHTY DYCKERSON OF DYCKERSONVILLE AND I AM URGENTLY RESPONDING TO YOUR ELECTRONIC MAIL MESSAGE.

PLEASE MY CONDOLENCES TO YOU FOR THE LOSS OF YOUR DEAD COCOA FARMING FATHER WHO IS CURRENTLY NOT ALIVE. IT IS SUCH A TRAGEDY THAT HE WAS POISONED BY HIS BUSINESS COLLEAGUES. HOW WERE THEY ABLE TO PULL OFF SUCH A DASTARDLY DEED? DID THEY SLIP CYANIDE IN YOUR FATHER'S COCOA?? THAT WOULD WOULD BE A BITTER IRONY, WOULD YOU AGREE? NOT THAT IT MATTERS NOW. WHAT'S DONE IS DONE, AND I HOPE THOSE FIENDS ROT IN HELL.

OK ENOUGH ABOUT THAT LET US PLEASE GET TO THE USD 2.5 MILLION AMERICAN DOLLARS. I HAD NO IDEA THE COCOA FARMING INDUSTRY WAS SO LUCRATIVE, BUT I AM PLEASED TO HEAR YOU HAVE MADE EDUCATION YOUR TOP PRIORITY. AS YOUR APPOINTED GUIDIAN AND BENEFICIARY, MY FIRST ACT WILL BE TO ENROLL YOU IN THE FINEST AMERICAN COMMUNITY COLLEGE MONEY CAN BUY.

I ACTUALLY DO BUSINESS WITH THE BANK OF ABIDJAN. IN FACT I HAVE STILL HAVE THE FREE TOASTER THEY SENT ME WHEN I OPENED THE ACCOUNT. SO THERE IS NO NEED TO WIRE ANY FUNDS. PLEASE RESPOND URGENTLY WITH YOUR ACCOUNT NUMBER AND I WILL HAVE THE MONEY TRANSFERRED ONLINE VIA THE ABIDJAN WORLD WIDE WEB SITE.

I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO HEARING FROM YOU. MAY YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL HANUKKAH AND HAPPY JEW YEAR. GOODBYE PLEASE.

DYCKERSON


Christmas came early in the Dyckerson house this year, because our friend "Linda" took the bait! Here's her response, which I partly edited for length. Thankfully she turned off the caps lock button this time:


Dearest One,

I thanks you very much for your mail which you sent to me after reading it i do understand that you really want to help me in my present predicaments...Please I am like an orphan now who needed help that is the reason why I contact you to see if you can render me a help from your country because my conditions here is too bad. I don't have brothers or sisters but I have uncles, they have not been fair with me since the death of my father, all they care about is sharing my father's properties among themselves, saying that am just a little girl so won't know what to do with those things, when I tried to protect, they started threatening my life and send me out of family house.

The good things that happened to me is that they are not aware of this sum of Two million five hundred thousand US dollars . USD ($2.5million ) which my late father left in a suspense account...Please you are to confirm what is required to transfer this money into your account, Because i will visit them and details them about you.

[Contact information omitted.]

Dear, I believe that GOD made this choice for me. this money is a legally acquired money by my late father, Because he was a cocoa dealer...Furthermost i will like you to keep this matter confidential with you please i don't want you to tell it any body because those people that kill my father may be looking away to eliminate me to get this money

Here is more info about myself, I am Miss linda mehi, from the Republic de Cote d'ivoire, I am the only daughter of Late Mr mehi who died in the caurse of poison. my mother died few months after given birth to me and since then I was motherless. I am now 19 yrs old girl who living alone in Cote d'Ivoire where to save my life and also to claim the money which my late father left for me. my late father's brothers did not knows that my late father left such sum in the bank and the area I am now, this is why I am worried to move out from here, moreover they might kill me if the locate to where I am staying, I want to let you know that the situation is very hard to me this time.

Best Regard


Can you believe this shit??! Dyckerson responds:


Beloved One

You poor innocent child. Me thanks you for sharing with me your story. Your uncles really treat you hard causing you danger and I would likes to render a help please. You is quite fortunate your father left you that suspense account. I used to have an action account at the bank of Abidjan, but I transferred it to a comedy account because the interest rate was more goodly.

Furthermost it sounds like your father was a great cocoa dealer before he died in the caurse of poison. I belives GOD loves cocoa dealers and I is certain he has a special place in Heaven just for him. I should likes to contact you about the sum, but I fear my phone may be bugged. You see, my aunts are trying to eliminates me so they can get to the USD $4.3 million American dollars left to me by my father. He was a rich pork rind dealer here in the Republic de Dy'ckersonville. And if you comes to my country, I shall impregnates you with my 34 year old pork rind dick. You'll give birth to a dead pig and we'll cut him up and turn him into pork rinds.

Please I will contact you urgently as soon as the ivory coast is clear. Have a bitchin' yule.


Will "Miss Linda" be dumb enough to write again?? Stay tuned and find out!!!


Enjoy these previous installments of
Fun With Spammers:

• Fun With Spammers (the original)
• More Fun With Spammers
• Fun With Spammers III: The New Blood

The Dyckerson Family Christmas Newsletter '06

It has been another crazy year for the Dyckerson clan! We've had a lot of laughs, and yes, a few tears as well. And lately we've had an assload of explosive diarrhea, thanks to that goddamn Taco Bell they opened down the street.

2006 started out on a sour note. As you may recall from last year's newsletter, Mrs. Dyckerson was promoted to supervisor of Harry's House of Whores. Well I am sad to announce that Harry's burned to the ground in January. The fire department's investigation concluded that the blaze had been caused by a vibrator that was left turned on. The vibrator eventually overheated and ignited a box of Kleenex. Fortunately no one was hurt, but unfortunately, Mrs. D. was out of a job.

Little Dyck Jr. is growing up so fast, the little bastard. We finally weaned him off breast feeding, and not a moment too soon. My nipples were really getting sore! His pediatrician told us he may be mildly retarded. I'm hoping he'll snap out of it like I did.

Megan, our oldest, got knocked up for the third time last spring. As you know, we aborted the first two babies using a rusty coathanger. (Which reminds me, I really need to wipe that thing off. The blood keeps staining my shirts.) Anyway, Megan decided she wanted to keep the baby this time, so she went on Maury to find out who the father is. Turns out to be her fucking gym teacher. I guess she's been doing more than jumping jacks and squat thrusts.

More sad news this fall when we lost our Great Grandma Dyckerson. She didn't die, we just lost her. She was last seen wandering around outside the nursing home in late September. If anyone sees her, please give us a shout. We need her social security checks.

And finally, we just got finished remodelling the kitchen...and boy, is it spectacular! Granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, solid oak kitchen table, and the best part: the chairs have built-in crappers!! That's right, we can eat and shit simultaneously!! It saves us a lot of time, and it has really brought the whole family closer together.

Speaking of which, from our family to your family.....HAPPY FUCKING HOLIDAYS!!!

Don Henley Meltdown

Recently I sat down with musician Don Henley for an exclusive Mighty Blog interview. Mr. Henley is an avid reader of my blog, so I wanted to give him a chance to address recent allegations that he is a "fag" and/or "douche." Things started out well enough, but unfortunately, Mr. Henley's anger got the best of him...


Dyck: Mr. Henley, thanks for being here today.

Don: My pleasure. Please call me Don.

Dyck: Don, you are undoubtedly the finest singer/songwriter of your generation. You started singing and playing drums in high school. You belonged to several small bands in Texas before co-founding The Eagles with Glenn Frey in '72. After the group disbanded in the early 80s, you went on to become a Grammy-winning solo artist...while the careers of your former bandmates fizzled away. Then in 1994, you reunited with The Eagles for the phenomenally successful Hell Freezes Over tour. Today, you continue to tour and write brilliant, inciteful music.

Don: Thank you.

Dyck: My first question is, are you a homosexual?

Don: No. I am happily married with three beautiful children. In the 70s, I fucked Stevie Nicks on a regular basis. And in 1982, I was busted for having a wasted 16-year-old girl naked in my bed.

Dyck: Well that's good enough for me. I believe a few of my readers have some questions for you.


Karla: Hey Don, you're a washed-up fag!!!

Don: Oooh, you can talk, you can talk, you can talk, you brave mother blogger!

Karla: Hey, that's uncalled for...

Don: Well that's what you get for interrupting the Desperado, don't you know? Throw her out! She's a blogger! She's a blogger!!!


Bostick: Don, you suck, cracker ass!

Don: Look, another blogger! Thirty years ago, I'd have you upside down with my fucking drumsticks up your ass!!!

Bostick: Hey that's not necessary!

Don: Shut up! Shut up or I'll hang your blogger ass in a New York minute!

Andy: Uncalled for! This is uncalled for!

Don: Ooooh! Ooooh! It shocks you! It shocks you, you filthy blogger! Well take your dirty laundry somewhere else!!


Dyck: I think we better wrap up this interview. Don, I hate to do this, but I'll have to ban you from my blog.

Don: That's OK. I have to go anyway. Joe Walsh and I are going to a Barbra Streisand concert tonight. This definitely won't be a "worthless evening," if you know what I'm saying! Later!!

Yep, I've Still Got It

The following story is one of the reasons I hate to leave the house. Last night I decided to pay a visit to one of the few remaining watering holes in Dyckersonville that hasn't banned me for life. Sweet Lord Almighty in Heaven above, I wish I hadn't.

The night started out decent enough. I sauntered in around 9:30pm and moseyed my way over to a corner of the bar. The house band, the Pork Rinds, was playing Top 40 crap to a group of 30 or so. The barkeep greeted me with a hearty howdy-do and I ordered my usual: a Filthy Whore. For those of you who don't know, a Filthy Whore is made with one part vodka, two parts scotch, and three parts kerosene. You throw it all in a blender, toss in a dead fish, and mix it up real good.

Anyway, I was sitting there enjoying my Filthy Whore and checking out the scenery. Pickins were pretty slim, but there were a couple of broads who caught my eye. One of the tomatoes was sporting a leathery jacket and nursing a Bud Lite with her ugly friend. The other dame was only moderately attractive, but she had a nice rack. Oh yeah, and over in the other corner, a 50 year old hag who looked like she had been sitting there since people started making jokes about when Nixon was in office.

So I was trying to decide which one of those two lovely cupcakes was going to enjoy the company of Dyckerson...when all of the sudden, who should approach me but (you guessed it) the 50 year old hag! This bitch parked her ass on the stool next to me, lit a cigarette, and ordered a drink. She reeked of B.O. and cheap perfume, and her clothes appeared to have come from a thrift shop. And not a second-hand thrift shop either. More like a third- or fourth-hand thrift shop. Kind of a sneak preview of what the crazy babbler will be like in five years. Christ, I wouldn't have pooned that old maid with Bea Arthur's dick!

I tried to ignore this skanky grandmother and focus my attention on the wall-mounted TV. Jesus, I wish the damn thing had been turned on. Then maybe I wouldn't have heard her when she said hello.

She had one of those deep, gravelly voices that chain smokers get. She was somewhat hard to understand, but here's a rough idea of how our conversation went...

Hag: My name's Kathy. What's your name?
Dyck: David Burkowitz.
Hag: What do you do?
Dyck: Me no speako de English.
Hag: (unintelligible)
Dyck: That's nice.

And now, for the good part...

Hag: I'm homeless.
Dyck: Huh?
Hag: I have no place to go tonight.
Dyck: Well that's a shame.
Hag: So why are you here tonight? Are you trying to pick up somebody?
Dyck: Umm...I am gay, I have AIDS, and I have no penis.

(And here's the icing on the urinal cake. All during this time, the Pork Rinds were playing Don Henley's "The Heart of the Matter." This used to be one of my favorite songs. Well no more. Now, it will always be our song. I'll have to burn all my Henley CDs. Hell, I think I'll even burn my henley shirts for good measure.)

At that point, I pretended to get a call on my cell phone...

Dyck: What? There's been a terrible accident?? My house burned down and my family is dead??! I'll be right there!!!

I then paid my tab and hot footed it out of there. There's another bar I won't be going to again. Of course the real tragedy is, the two hotties I left behind will never experience the seductive powers of Dyckerson. 'Tis a pity.

Well dip my balls in boiling oil and call me Slappy!

Restless Legs Syndrome really does exist!!!

Come On Down, Bitch!

I have good news and bad news. First, the good news: One of my blog affiliates, Husho McWilloHushkeays will soon be making a pilgrimage to Hollywood to attend a taping of The Price is Right television game program!



Now, the bad news: I don't think Husho has ever watched the goddamn show before. Seriously, this chick couldn't tell you the price of a can of Dole pineapple slices if her fucking life depended on it! Without my help, she will likely make a complete fool of herself and bring shame and embarrassment to the Mighty Blog community. Now I don't care about that first part, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let her drag me down with her.

So let's cut the shit and get to the rules. These are all lifted verbatim from The Price is Right Code of Conduct. All audience members are expected to have these memorized, so pay attention:

• When writing for tickets, specify your preference for seating in the w00ting or nonw00ting section.

• Upon entering the studio, audience members are subject to random drug screenings, strip searches, and racial profiling.

• You may look at, but not touch, the mummified corpse of Johnny Olsen on display in the studio lobby.

• No food or beverages are allowed in the studio. A five-minute smoke break will be given after the first showcase showdown.

• Cripples, retards, tubbies, and individuals with gross deformities will be asked to sit in the unlit section in the back of the studio.

• Gentlemen - The third stall in the men's room is reserved for Mr. Barker. If Mr. Barker asks for your assistance in wiping himself, please oblige.

• Ladies - The above rule applies to you as well. Mr. Barker has been known to wander into the wrong restroom from time to time.

• Ladies - Also be aware that Mr. Barker may attempt to penetrate you with his microphone.

• Do not look directly at Mr. Barker at any time.

• Do not speak to Mr. Barker unless first spoken to.

• Do not touch Mr. Barker unless he touches you first.

• Should you be called on stage, you will play the pricing game assigned to you. No trading or swapping of pricing games is permitted.

• Plinko chips are not edible. Please refrain from putting them in your mouth.

• Individuals with pacemakers should not operate or stand near the Clock Game prop.

• CBS and The Price is Right will not be held legally responsible in the event that the yodeling mountain climber exposes himself to you.

• If you feel the urge to kiss Mr. Barker, you may do so gently on his right cheek; however, no licking or open mouthed kisses are permitted.

• Should Mr. Barker be heckled by an African American or other ethnic audience member, Mr. Barker reserves the right initiate a racial tirade (a.k.a. "meltdown") against said audience member. For this reason, all cell phones, camera phones, and other communication and recording devices are strictly prohibited in the studio.

• Any audience member who is caught shouting quotes from Happy Gilmore will be spayed and/or neutered immediately.

• If Mr. Barker should fart in your general direction, you will inhale deeply and politely compliment Mr. Barker on the aroma.

• If Mr. Barker should lose control of his bladder during taping, production will be suspended while his pants are blow-dried by the model of his choosing.

• Audience members wishing to sue Mr. Barker for sexual harassment shall form a line behind door number two after the show.

That's it, Husho. I suggest you adhere to these rules. CBS pages are trained to shoot on sight, and they will not hesitate to do so. Have a great time!!!

The Many Sides of Dyckerson

I've been doing a lot of soul searching since my blog was reviewed by the folks at Blog Laughs. Perhaps my blog is a bit too "frat-boyish" and "juvenile" as the critics put it. Maybe my posts do contain too many jokes about poo-poos, pee-pees, wee-wees, ta-tas, hoo-hahs, and the like.

But your beloved Mighty Dyckerson is capable of much more than this childishness. Mighty Dyckerson is a man of the world...a well-rounded and cultured gentleman of class. Mighty Dyckerson doesn't need to resort to vulgarity to keep His audience engaged. Mighty Dyckerson is capable of speaking with great intelligence and eloquence about a wide variety of subject matter.

Take politics. I believe we need to strengthen our borders and put the brakes on illegal immigration. Social security needs major reform. And we must revise our exit strategy in Iraq. Speaking of which, I have a question about that Soddamn Insane guy. When he was hiding out in his spider hole all that time, where the fuck did he take a shit? Did he just drop a deuce right there in his spider hole? Or did he sneak out at night and go behind a sand dune? And what did he use to wipe his ass, an empty Doritos bag??

Then there's the arts. You might be surprised to learn I am an art lover. My most cherished possession is my black velvet painting of the Mona Lisa squatting over a midget and taking a piss on his head. The attention to detail is stunning, right down to the smile on the Mona Lisa's face. You can just tell she's enjoying herself as she expels her urine with the grace and ease of a swan in flight.

Or maybe sports is more your cup of tea. Your Trojans are looking good for the Rose Bowl this year. Speaking of Trojans, I was wearing a Trojan the night I banged two chicks at the same time. It was at a funeral home, and we had just buried my aunt Dyquetta. During the service, I noticed these fine pieces of ass bawling their eyes out in the front row. Afterwards, I took them aside and consoled them in my own special way. Turns out they were distant cousins, but I guess that's technically OK, isn't it??

You don't like sports either? Fine, let's talk about the world of high finance. Next year I'm hoping to diversify my portfolio by reallocating a portion of my 401k to international funds. I'm also planning to invest in one of these for my bedroom. Britney is my favorite, I think.

Perhaps you're more of a thinker. I happen to know a thing or two about philosophy. In fact, my favorite philosopher is Kierkegaard, the father of existentialism. It was Kierkegaard who said, "for one to truly have faith in God, one would also have to doubt that God exists." Well I'll tell ya, those chicks I banged at the funeral home sure believed in God - they kept screaming His name every time I (censored by Blogger) in their mouths!!

So as you can see, there's more to Dyckerson than meets the eye. I think some of you out there may owe me a Kramer-like apology. I'll be waiting...