4/12/2007

Westward, Hos!

'Tis my last post before I embark on my transcontinental journey to sunny California. God forbid something should happen to me while I'm gone, but the world is a crazy and dangerous place. So if you don't hear from me again, please do not shed any tears. I ask that you only remember the good times we had together - the joy...the laughter...the wiener jokes. Besides, I prefer to think of death not as an ending, but as a beginning. The beginning of an eternity spent rotting in a box six feet in the ground.

Before I go, I have a few messages for some of my closest fans and colleagues.....

To RevRee: You were always my favorite. You've been there for me through thick and thin, in good times and in bad. You were the wind beneath my wings. Life is short, so stop reading this post immediately and make the most of it! Go now!

To Stacy: Now that she's gone, forget what I said about that nappy headed half-&-ho. My love belongs to you and you only. You parked a forklift under my heart and raised it to new heights. I'll never forget that time we made out in the Super Colon, with cancerous polyps dangling above our heads. Go...and write a poem celebrating our love. Or better yet, write a poem about forklifts.

To Ms. Babble: RevRee and Stacy meant nothing to me. You were the only one who mattered. Sure, we had our disagreements. But the fetus growing in your womb is everlasting proof of our undying love. Be sure to tell our child about me when he/she/it is old enough. Now turn off the computer and go rest.

To Luck O' The Irish: The stuff I said above is pure bullshit. Ever since I set my eyes on your sexy tattoo, I knew you were the one for me. Now hurry down to the tattoo parlor and have them tattoo my avatar on your ass!

To Maven: Ignore what I said about those other sluts. What you and I have is special. With your penchant for ennui and plantars warts, how could I not love you? Now run to the drug store and get yourself some Compound W!

To Manola: You know I'm lying about those other filthy tramps. You are all I could ever want. You...and your bodacious ta-tas. Now put down your giant orange phallus and come to daddy!


SO LONG SUCKERS!!!

26 comments:

Crashtest Comic said...

California sucks...

~ Stacy ~ said...

Damn! That was incredibly romantic, Mister Dyckerson. My heart is all aflutter. (Could be the caffeine.) I don't even care that you've lied to all the other girls. I know your heart belongs to me.

Muahahahahaha!

Oh, um... Be safe, mon amour, and have fun! I'll be rooting for you to spin that wheel!

Oh, and don't do anything Grandpa Dyckerson wouldn't do.

Gosh, I'm gonna miss you.

Manola Blablablanik said...

You saved the best for last! Ahhhhh ...

tfg said...

WTF was that was that crap?

Mighty Dyckerson said...

CTC - Not when Dyckerson is there!

Stacy - Show me your ta-tas.

Manola - Show me your ta-tas.

TFG - Sorry, I should've mentioned my stalker would be taking over the blog in my absence.

Dixie said...

What am I supposed to do without my daily Dyck??

Have fun! Win me something! Mkay??

RevRee said...

Have a wonderful time Dyckerson! Be sure to grab your crotch when the cameras on you, so I know you're thinking about me!

It's Me, Maven... said...

Dyckerson, baby, please, don't confuse "eternity" with "eternal care." Most cemeteries will only offer "perpetual care" up to 50-100 years, after that time who knows what they'll do to your dessicated corpse.

Good luck with the Bark-man!

Luck o' the Irish said...

Heading for the tattoo joint RIGHT NOW. Then I can truly say you were a pain in the ass.

Beth said...

I have never been so hurt in all my life...you talk about your hos and you.did.not.mention.me.

thanks alot dickerson,,,ya I just called you a dick, so there.

Willo Keays said...

Ummm .... hello?!

Gucci Muse said...

OH Dyck, you chauvanist pig, you cassanova, you! My, my...how you can turn a girl on!

And, I am not even mentioning how slick you have honed your woman juggling skills.

Bravo.

Aza said...

I am truly impressed and deeply touched at the discretion you took with regards to tapping my ass the other night and not blabbing about it all over the internet. I now see what we have goes well beyond the “weekend tap n’ brag” directly to “Maybe her perfect ass is the ‘one’”. That means a lot to me Dyck, really. I hope you have a safe and exciting journey! Should the unthinkable happen I hope you’re met with a quick and not so agonizing end. Oh, btw… you did remember to will me your pickled penis upon your death, right?

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Dixie - Time to dust off the cucumber.

RevRee - Don't need to grab my crotch. The fleas in this motel are taking care of that for me.

Maven - You seem to be an expert on the subject. Were you an undertaker in a former life?

Irish - I want pics!

Beth - Forget what I said about those other skanks. You're the only one for me. Really. I mean that.

Willo - GO SANJAYAH!!!

Gucci - My juggling skills are surpassed only by your jiggling skills.

Aza - Sorry, McDonalds already has the rights to my pickled penis. They plan to slice it up and put it on the Big Macs.

~ Stacy ~ said...

McDonald's/Big Macs?

Did you drink on the plane?

And what's up with that damn message: "This blog does not allow anonymous comments."?

Scary Monster said...

Ya think they'll let you grab yer banana on network TV?

Have ya figured out how you are going to get to BB's private commode and leave a signiture turd?

Gucci Muse said...

Now, Dyckerson, how did you know I do get jiggy with it? My jiggling, if you are even favored with it, will far surpass any tremor you will ever get out there in LA.

Enjoy the Beverly Inn, but I would advise caution with Beverly Out. You have been warned.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Stacy - No drinks, but I did join the mile high club with a stewardess named Rema!

Monster - I have located Bob's commode. I bribed LA City Hall for a copy of the studio blueprints. Subsequently I was able to locate a ventilation duct that leads to the roof. I plan to scale the side of the building under the cloak of darkness, crawl through the ventilation duct, and follow it to Bob's dressing room. Voila! Let the loaf pinching begin!!

Gucci - We are talking about your boobs, aren't we?

karla said...

Have we met? I see you mentioned me, and it's quite flattering, but I can't seem to recall ever meeting you before. Who is this?

NAME: Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

How nice of you to bid farewell to your blog "ho's." You're like a cyber-pimp!

It's Me, Maven... said...

No not an expert despite having lived across the street from a cemetery during my formative years; and then later on as an adult I once was vocationally tested to see with my talents and intelligence which line of work would I excel at, and it was determined that a grave digger or mortician were the results. Oh, and let's not forget about my former friends, who were also in the mortuary sciences, who processed a man for his "final reward"... a man, I might add, who had an EIGHT BALL tattooed on his scrote. (One of my more colorful anecdotes from my lifetime of being a freak magnet).

son of dyckerson said...

You didn't even say goodbye to me?! Your "only" illegitimate son? Well, I guess that's to be expected from the deadbeat who ran away after impregnating my mom. Thanks Dyck, have fun!

Gucci Muse said...

My, my Dyck- if your imagination is stuck on the jugs, you are certainly missing out. Get off the can and juggle the jiggling!

Christie said...

you've been nominated for a (few) RFS Blog Award(s)

Randomness said...

Wow, I thought I ment more to you then that. I put up a new avatar just for you and even added more pics...and for what?? Not even a damn mention at all in this blog. I am disappointed, I just don't know what to think. See if I do anything else for you ever again if I am not going to get any form of thanks. So, don't expect anything special just for you ever again ASSHOLE!! I am going to go cry myself to sleep now.

Ramblings from an Old Woman that lived in a shoe. said...

Randomness: I broke the code. I found you a new Mighty Man. He will be lusting after your site soon. I hope he meets with your approval. He has promised NOT to leave town without leaving you a love note. NO MORE CRYING OVER THE MIGHTY D...