Monday, September 20, 2010

Moving On

okay, hood may have been a dick, he may have been a pathological liar, he may have ruined my credit, he may have been a druggy, he may have ruined the Harry potter series for me, he may have picked up a hitch hiker who stole my plasma screen tv, he may have eaten the last piece of pie and not even put his plate in the dishwasher, he may have slipped ecstacy into my koolaid, he may have tried to poison me with arsinic, he may have had something to do with the 9/11 attacks, he may have pushed a new born baby puppy down the stairs, he may have lied on his ressamay, he may have stollen someones kid at birth and raised him thinking his name was Lagalass McTornado, he may have touched the stuff at cosi that says "Do Not Touch", he may have set my homepage as thekkk.com, he may have never paid his child support, he may have fed my neighbor to rapid wolverines, he may have littered, he may have peed on the carpet and blamed it on the dog, he may have crash landed an air plane into a hospital, he may have been terrible at photo-shop, he may have made holocaust jokes to my jewish relatives, he may have modeled his life after ke$ha, he may have shaved that kid in my science class's eyebrows off in his sleep, he may have said he was going to adopt that russian midget with no limbs but forgot to pick him up from the orphanage, and even may have attempted to stab me with some garden shears, but it's time for me to forgive and move on. You see, there's a little brain-damaged robin in all of us and we all have to learn to accept one another. It's christmas time, and because of that, here's a little treat for you all not in memory, but in celebration of my dearly departed friend Hood.

Hoods Throughout the Ages


The Scream (of hood)
"Riiiicoooooooo hood."

Hood-laham Lincoln
hood, circumnavigating the world with christopher columbus (and jesus)

The End.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Aparently hood was a conartist, a conartist with an addiction to playdough.

while looking through Hood's memory box today, i found a letter addressed to the company of play-dough. It turns out hood was a master conartist and lied in order to feed his addiction to moldable dough. here's the letter, read it in order:
front of note cards:







"photosynthesis notes" on the back of the notecards:











sorry the quality is equivalent to ass. you'll get over it. however, how any creature could do such a thing ultimetley disgusts me.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Hood's journal pt 1

Last week, I recieved all of hoods belongings in the mail. First, I started a huge bonfire and began burning all of his most precious belogings. It was mostly his collection of used celebrity napkins but under all of the used tissues and such, I found something very interesting. Hood's diary. I read it. I laughed, I cried, I got angry, but mostly, I had no Fucking idea what he was talking about. Sometimes, he would say things that I did! Most of the time, I knew for a FACT he was lieing, but then I rememered that he was mentally retarded so that could very well have been what he thought happened. In what you are about to read, Hood holds conversations with himself for no apaerent reason. There are obsenoties, so viewer discression is advized.

"dear diary,
"we'll be seperated for all eternity," they told me
Now, this sounded incredibly apealing to me. Of course, when I say 'incredibly appealing' I mean "I hate you all". But who would say something like that to a group of people who "genuinly care about you"
Ok, I'm going to stop right there. What if everyone said exactly what they were thinking? It would be a parallell universe of honesty!  Hmmm.... I bet some crazy bitch would probably freak out after some one told her her hair looked like shit and blow up the world. It's always the quiet ones..
  I wonder if there really are those DO NOT PRESS buttons that fire off atomic missles onto unsuspecting towns. 
"oh, hey Joe. Could you tell your ass wipe of a cat to stop taking a crap on my front porch!"
"ya, mike? I will when your wife trims those shrubs!  And I'm not talking about your over grown shittyass garden, I'm talking about her-"
kaBoOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! everyone's dead. Or at least, that's what those last thirty seconds would be like in my head. I imagine being blown the hell up would be a pretty quick and painless way to die. I also imgine being blown the hell up gives you a free pass to heaven fallowed by a hi five from Jesus for dieing in such a remarkable way. 
  Well, maybe that's not what the real Jesus would do, but I can assure you that that's what I'd do if I were Jesus. I'd also swallow a bomb. I've always wondered what that would be like... Would I spotaniously implode? Would I pass out? Would I have explosive diarhea? I will probably never know the answers to any of those questions. No, dash that. I will never know the answers to any of those questions.  Anyone ever told you that there's no such thing as a dumb question?  People have told me this and then I'll ask something like " is that a blind man driving that car!?!?" and they never take you seriously again. 
TWENTY YEARS LATER:
"Malinda, will you marry me"
*malinda starts cracking up and ends up dieing of laugter*
*paul dies alone well known as the town dumbass*
  now, as to why I would ever ask if it was a blind man driving the car next to us, my reason is quite legit. The side of the van said "service dog on board" and there was a handicap card hanging from the mirror. This immedietly made me think of blind people, because who s more handicapped than the blind? This question did send the entire car into a fit a laughter, resulting in the driver running a red lght and almost killing us all. My mother of course thought I must eather be mentally retarded and she just hadn't known it all these years or doing some sort of drugs from this obvious lack of common sense. Sense, cents, scents. That was impressive! I'm beginning to find it hard to be original and random. I tend to be unoriginal. I have to have something to build off of in order to be funny. For example, you give me the phrase " wow, your such a cock licker!" I pop out " that's what tiger woods said!"
Considering the fact that you never said that, and the fact that by you I mean myself because no one has ever read this, that statement was  entirely my own. I would suppose this makes me original and witty. Over the years, I've done a few original things.
" like taping that air freshner to that kids back?" you ask
" well obviously! That was so un original, so cliche, it was completely unexpected and 'hilairious' as you put it." I reply, anoyed.
   even though I don't care the tiniest bit about this anymore seeing that it happened more than a year ago, you never shut up about that insident! Someone new sits at the lunch table and how do people introduce me?
"this is hannah, she's flipping hilairiouse! She taped this air freshner to a kids back last year cause he smelled like armpit....." and so on and so forth.
  I'm sure they find this just as hilairious as you do, and sure I continue to play it up when it's brouht up, but soon I'm sure everyone will end up hating me for it. That's just how the eighth grade is: totally stupid. You know what else is totally stupid? Peopl who repeat things right after they happen... 
Poplar guy walks up to our lunch table
"hey Hood, saw you at magic mountian yesterday."
"uhh, ya..."
"ya, playing in the ball pit like some kind of fucking baby."
"well what were you doing there!"(defensively said)
"it was my cousins fifth birthday..."
"oh..." (I now feel like an ass)
"well, I bet you had fun with all those balls" (says this like a stupid jerk)
"yeah! I did have fun! With your mom last night! Oh, burn!!!!" (I get way too into it)
~lunch table laughs hysterically~
"hahaha! with you mom last nite. That was funny...." - girl next to me
*silence fills the lunch room*
"ya, way to say exactly what I just said, you unorigianl slut. I'm pretty sure that happened less than six seconds ago. I'm also pretty sure that it wasn't that funny. That added absolutely nothing to your side of the conversation. So why don't you shut the hel up next time you have nothing to say? Please, for be love of god, never talk to me again." is what I shouldve said but instead I reply with a smiling,"yeah!..."
I like that line," please, for the love of god, never talk to me Again." i wonder what would happen if I said that to a teacher... Or my mom.... Nothing good most definitly. It really is pathetic when people try that hard to be your friend. Quite honestly, you could offer me a piece of gum and I'll be your best friend for the rest of your life (BFFTROYL!).  Gum is like the leagle tender of jr highschool. I'm assuming one could get laid if he had enough gum. That's right, I'm talking about prostitutes paid in gum. (that was the first thing I thought of when I Saw that new trident layers comercial) I say this sarcastically though, and Only because I have relationships solely based on the distribution of gum. This is just another reason why children have absolutely no military power.
"we will crush your country if you continue your nuclear research" says the fourteen year old  president
"really? Because this pack of stride mystery flavored gum begs to differ!" says the dictator of Iran
Need I say more? We would last like a week and then the president would have traded the entire country for three pieces of five gum.
Sincerly,
hood the robin

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

An update on Hood.

As many of you may know, i have quit my job, as a full time nudist street performer, to spend my days searching the lands for my missing pet robin, Hood. I've gotten hundreds of leads and tips, but all have led me to dead ends. That is, until i recieved an email yesterday. it read:

"i have information on your robin , Hood . i read this story and felt alot of remorse for you. i cant imagine having to deal with a alcoholic and drug addicted robin. im sorry that you had to go through that, it must have been tough. i feel like the world owes you for saving the birds life. but i have some bad news. we found Hood ,... dead. i apologize for your loss. he died of a cocaine overdose. im very sorry i cant imagine how hard this is for you. take care."

I was imidietly struck with anguish and jumped up onto my computer desk and screamed to the heavens, "WHY MUST THE GOOD DIE SO YOUNGE!"
i then proceeded to smash my computer monitor with a plastic woofle ball bat. Finally, i hiperventalated in a corner for three and a half days until i started to hillucinate from my severe dehydration and lack of food.

That is all beside the point though. I knew i had to check if this lead was legit. I fallowed it up and found the true story of what had happened to my beloved bird.







Hood left the street fighting gang. Well, actually, they beet him up and left him for dead in a mailbox. Luckily, he was rescued by a Lioness and taken in as her own lion cub.She nursed him back to health by feeding him pre chewed carabu, but hood hated the taiste and screamed rape everytime she forced it down is throat. One day, hood had enough and took off like the ungrateful little bastard he was never to see mother lioness again. This is the part where the story gets a little sketchy, some witnesses have said that he joined the FBI while others say he got work as Jennifer Aniston's stunt double. I would go with the second because let's face it, they're practically twins.


















(hood's senior picture)


Well, i guess we'll never know for sure but sooner or later he became a male model. He travel Rome, Spain, Itally, and even had a cover shot for play girl magezine. This brought him great sums of money (which really pisses me off because he stole my social security number and defulted on some old credit cards so now my credit is ruined and I have to live in this shit hole for years to come. So thanks alot, you ugly fucking bird.)
and he spent great sums of it on food. He became super obese and that means selulite, kankles, and the worste case of pregnant man stomach I've seen in years. Because of this, he was fired. He spiraled into a deep depression and the only way he could deal
was by taking a shit load of drugs. Any drug you can think of, he took it. Until one day he met Andy Evans, his gay lover. Andy turned his life around and sent him to an extreme rehab program where hood was knocked out, placed in a cooler, and then sent down to the depts of shark infested waters (you can watch the program "rehab with man eaters" on shark week) hood awoke to a shark looking him right in the eyes yelling "Yo! Where my fishes at?" Hood remained calm. He sent out a battle cry Cakaa! And a furry falcoln dove into the water and made that shark his bitch by lighting him the fuck on fire. Hood was then taken in by a herd of domesticated dolphins who tought him how to comunicate through a series of clicking noises. Soon after this ordeal, hood went back to school and got his highschool deploma. He then proceded to get a job at a local highschool as a sex Ed teacher. However, he was quickly fired because he did not know where either a penis or a vagina were located. Things were looking up for once in his life, until one day Andy Evans was shot in the face. I would explain that story more in depth, but I really don't feel like it and I'm pretty sure you don't care. Hood was heart broken. He went back to drugs. One day, he got aids from a dirty haroine needle. Then, since he had decided life just wasn't worth living any more, he watched 387 episodes of Seinfeld in a row. A few weeks later, neighbors noticed a horrific smell eminating from the ranch style home and called police. Police came in to find a horrific seen. Hood was dead, with cheetos in his mouth. They did an attoupsy and determined his cause of death as "Seinfeld overdose".

So that is the conclussion of hood. I am writing an advice book about our times. If it ever gets publihed, the title will be "1000 reasons why you should never raise a goddamn retarded robin in your fucking home". It's a childrens book. Thanks for all your help. God be with you.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE: THIS STUPID ROBIN.

(hood at his 16th birthday party, 10/17/2006)

This is my pet robbin, Hood. He has been missing for the last 8 months. Let me tell you a bit about our story.

Hood was born as an egg in a small log cabin in the middle of a horrible winter storm. He was, as modern americans call it, an "accident" and his mom just wasn't ready to commit to the responsibilities of parenthood. She made her mind to migrate so she carefully nudged the newborn egg out of the nest, where Hood plumeted to what would most likely be his death. Then i came along like a hero or whatever, and cought the egg like a ninja! however, my incredibly muscular hands were so hard as cement, that the egg cracked a bit from the initial shock. This left poor hood with a learning disability. Some would go as far as saying he was a vegitable, but i saw past this. I took him in as my own small pet. I went to Tim Horton's and bought a box of tim-bits. I proceeded to eat said tim-bits. When I was done, hood had a new home!
Now, your probably all wondering, why the hell I would name my pet robin Hood. The answer, readers, is because i thought it would be funny in the way that it's similiar to the disney character "Robin Hood". Unfortunetly, it turns out no one yells out your species before your name, so he's pretty much just gone around his entire life sounding like some sort of gender-confused gangster. oh well, my bad.AnYwAyS! Hood was alot more stupid than i thought. Everytime i put him in his box, he would run into the walls like one of those automatic vacuum cleaners when they would get stuck in a corner. But don't worry, He would loose concessness eventually and just wouldn't wake up for a couple of days.
Me and hood had some great times together. I recall one particular incident when hood turned his head towards me and said "chirp chirp chirp!" which in bird talk means, "I'm hungry" so i slapped him in the beak and screamed "WHAT ELSE IS NEW, FATTY!!!" ya, good times, good times!
Soon after, hood got into a street fighting gang. He went out partying every night, shooting cocaine, and this one time he brought a prostitute into our apartment. A fucking prostitute!! His life was in a downward spiral. we were constintly getting into arguments. I remember one time he left a needle full of haroine on the floor and i accidently stepped on it .
me:"Hood, your addictions are getting out of control."
hood:"chirp chirp chirp chirp" i'm trying to fit in
me:"that's not something you want to fit into!"
hood:"chirp chirp chirp chirp"that's what she said!
me:"I can't take all of your perverted jokes anymore! hood, i'm sending you to rehab! sexual-pun rehab!!!"
and then he knocked over the meth lab on our front porch as he drunkenly stumbled away.
I haven't heard from him since. here's the most recent picture i have of him.

(yeah, i know. he's seriously let himself go)

If you have hear from , seen , bought drugs from, or have any tips about Hood, please contact me at:
holyasscase@yahoo.com
thank you! and god bless:)