the writing of john scott ridgway and his mental demons -- gilford tuttle, white male christian, and johnny pain -- punk serial killer with a penchant for vegetible molestation.
Published on November 8, 2006 By Gilford Tuttle In Philosophy
Somehow, this story didn't print right... so, everyones comments were on two paragraphs from the middle of the story. Or so I think, since I came in here and only two paragraphs were here. They may have read the whole thing... Sorry. Here is the real post.

On the run from the vast Mormon Mormon High High Counsel, and a crack team of ninja scientologist lawyers, some crazy Kabbalah killers lead by Mad Donna, Assface Kurcher and Demigod Moore, the God Ralph and his often unfaithful followers are trekking across the welfare and robot-worker propped up 'Land of the Once not so free but now really a bit Too Free,' post-bush world (meeting culture after culture that had sprung up among those . . . 'left behind' . . . when the Bush Monarchy moved the rich to the moon and created The Very Very White World). After three days of driving at speeds upward of 150 miles an hour and causing dozens of accidents that forced Ralph's followers to go through numerous painful resurrections and healings, they have come to a part of the country that is filled with trailer parks.

Trailer parks stretched throughout the mid-americas for thousands of miles on all sides, and little was known about the inhabitants. Leading into the labryinth of mediocrity was a road filled with bags of garbage, old car parts, and a number of suprisingly well kept up garden gnomes in various holiday themed outfits. Ralph ignored the barrier, and was almost dissappointed when the bus smashed right through. Immediatly the world almost seemed to turn on it's side... all the people they were seeing were grossly misformed.... eight arms, three heads, four huge ass cheeks... and what looked like a bunch of half-human, half-goat people.

"Yuck," Mugily said. "What the hell is wrong with these people?"
"Descendents of hillbilly's and white trash. I suspect without a strong government in place to stop inbreeding, the walk to the neighbor's was too far for them. Looks like the goats were closer than the neighbors too. Usually that doesn't result in offspring, but all the inn-breeding and beer has actually managed to make their genes stupider than normal. They all seem to weigh over three hundred pounds. You notice that?"
"Of course I noticed. They look like huge warts on the landscape."
"They would probably look better as warts. Yes... they... would."
"Ralph!!! Do not make them into warts."
It was too late. Two mountanious women in tube tops and short shorts standing outside of a trailer became huge, bloated red warts. Mugily expected this to enrage the others, but instead they non-chalantly began breaking peices of the warts off, rubbing them on their genitals and then eating them."
"Ralph, tell me they don't consider that seasoning?"
"They're just seeing where the wart fits best. You fucking humans and your gland rubbing and juices spurting... " The one thing that Ralph found disgusting was human sex. The gods looked at it like humans were basically puking vile juices on one another while flopping about all slapstick -- Mugily suspected this masked Ralph's jelousy over not being able to connect on a deep emotional level, but he was wrong.
" They'll eat the evidence in ... wow, they devored those warts."
"Can you bring them back?"
"Yes. Good point. What's with the Elvis statue?"
"They worship the older, disappaited Elvis. They try to look like him. Mostly they just watch soap operas, drink beer and have family oreinted orgies."
"Don't stop."
"We have to. I've already told Elvis's ghost that I will talk to these people on his behalf. He doesn't like being the patron saint of Gravy and Biscuits. He wants it to be Cadillacs. I'm going to see what I can do. I loved Hound Dog. Once played it for fifteen years straight. I'm going to give them some more warts to eat, to ... uh, make friends."
"Ralph, don't piss them off. Can't you see they all have shotguns in their pick ups and those little confedirate flags that on their bumpers, the ones that declare -- 'Too Stupid For History Class."
"Mugily, my scribes usually do what I tell them."
"And look where that has gotten you Ralph? We've got Ninja scientologists, mad cap mormons... that whore Mad Donna... all trying to kill us. They've already succeded like twenty times and I am so sick of feeling my own death.... and they'll kill us again if you keep warting these people."
"I'm just trying to make following me fun. Forgive me for enriching your pathetic little human life. Well, I guess we should stop and talk to them."
"No, let's just keep..."
"Hey, look, a statue of Elvis with a chicken wing hanging out of his mouth.... Oh, reading their minds is pretty gross... all they think about is beer... and their sisters, mothers, uncles... wow, I thought you were sick, but these humans. . All they eat is gravy and biscuits... barbacue their dead at big, ritual parties where the women flash their breasts and the men flash their... these guys have big asses."

As the unweildy crowds gathered around the Bus, Ralph took the PA and began speaking to them: "Listen, we don't have a lot of time... first off, I am Ralph, a god, and I am here with news from Elvis. He wants you to give up goat fucking, first off."

Hearing their beloved goat fucking maligned by an outsider pissed off the Elvi Peep's (as they called themselves). Angry cries of, "What? Take away goat fucking? That's blasphemy!"
"Only one touching my goats is me, and peoples who can trade a sheep or a large cat." "Get him!!! Make him fuck a goat!!"

Ralph waved his hand in the air and bongs suddenly appeared in the hands of one and all... "Here, this is my special blend. I want you to put down your beers, inhale the weed, and lose your four or five extra asses, okay?"

Beer cans and rocks and small children began to pelt the bus as the angry crowd threw whatever was close at the interlopers who were threatening one of the profound tenents of the Elvi -- 'No Goat Shall Go Unsodomized."

"Look, you walking warts... Elvis has spoken to me, okay? Why the hell else would I come here?"
"To fuck goats?" One of the crowd asked?
"No, you see... I'm here... "

A commotion on the edge of the crowd caught their attention. Then a group of black clad ninja's and hippy looking people with red garrots could be seen trying to fight their way to the bus. The commotion died down almost as soon as it began.

"Ralph, what is it?" Mugily asked the now seemingly bored god.
"Oh, the wart people are eating the scientologists, kabbalists, and Mad Donna and her hanger ons. They're already sending out replacements after us."

"People of the trailer world,"Ralph told the crowd, "We brought this offering of folks to ritually sodomize and barbacue as a way of showing our freindship. Now ... there... you are cured of your imulses toward goats and relatives."

Cries of approval immediantly began to come from the crowd.

"Hey, Elvis never shared his drugs..."

"Will you bless my gravy and biscuits?"

"Thanks for making me despise my uncles asshole, Ralph."

And lots of other affirmitive remarks which helped to quell the trembling in Mugily's bowels that he had been feeling ever since learning he was distantly related to the white trash that he was sure would eventually ritually sodomize him and then cook him up in a barbacue (in a forgotten reference to better times, the ritual sodomizing on people about to be barbacued was called 'stuffing,' though none of them seemed too impressed when Mugily pointed this out to them, and for a moment he wished Ralph had made them all warts).

Later that week, as they drovee out of the other side of the trailer park, the ghost of Elvis tearfully saw them off, then went out into space intent on being reincarnated as a common, garden variety toad, which had been the earliest and most pure dream of his childhood.

on Nov 11, 2006
Is this art, or is he retarded?
on Nov 12, 2006
Go back into your little world, the one you created to be so special... And why the hell do you think I would care what you think???
on Nov 12, 2006
If you have to ask, it shows you're the retard.
on Nov 12, 2006
I am glad to see you missed the humor in this. It is a fucking first draft, asshole. You are not the entire joe user community... and you have really wasted enough of my time. Go the fuck away.
on Nov 12, 2006
Oh, and also, sorry about the curse in the title. I guess I should have read the rules or something, huh? I changed it. Thank you for the tip.
on Nov 12, 2006
Somehow this file did not print right the first time. The above comments are on two randomn paragraphs that initially made up this entry. Sorry about the confusion.

on Nov 13, 2006
I understand you intend to post your stories to the forums rather than unticking the "Post to forums" button and putting them just on your site. Is that correct?

If so, are you looking for comment? I can see you've made a great many spelling and grammatical mistakes which I can go through for you if you'd like. Increased literacy might improve the mood of your forced audience.

For example in your title you use the word incestial. I assume you mean that the said goat-fuckers are related yet have sex with each other. In that context it's more common to use the adjective 'incestuous'. Although adjectives sometimes have -ial endings, the word incestial doesn't exist and instead the ending -ous is used.

If you are unsure about whether a word you use is correct or not I'd recommend checking with a good dictionary. In the greater English world that would be the Oxford Dictionary; if you're in the US I think there's one called Webster's. Either way a consistent spelling style is a must.

By checking words you are unsure of you will greatly increase the enjoyment and satisfaction of your numerous readers.
on Nov 13, 2006
That's a good point. Unfortunatly, I write so much that I put up the first drafts, and then in periods where I am less productive, I edit. I tend to put them up first draft, then worry about that later, going back and correcting what I catch. this used to drive my editor crazy. She would tell me just what you did. I should be better about this. Thanks again for the good criticism.

As far as the other part of your comment, about a forced audience... I really haven't forced anyone to read or hear my comedy since I was a kid. Take it or leave it. You don't have to come in here if you don't want to. As far as having you edit me, thank you for the offer... it is exceedingly kind of you, but I need to tackle such things myself... I have a gentleman who is going to edit all of the comedy before it is put into a new edition of The Psycho Killer's Shit List. But your comment made me think about the difference between how I view print, and the internet. Here, it seems likea journal thing that I put up for the hell of it, and then go back and get the best and try to publish it. This is a problem that I will work on. I am like that -- I actually think about what people say and incorporate it into my own little personal search for truth.

The reason I have been putting these in the forums is because I get a lot of negative responses, actually. I have had plenty of praise in my life, and it didn't help my work one bit. I prefer people who have a legitimate bitch about my work, like you do, but even those who are less literate help me to guage how people are reacting to me. Believe me, though, some of the anger is over what I am writing. Slam all their little gods and they get mad, but all they can say to me is that 'I am shit.' So, bust my balls if you wish... Have a good day, and thanks again for the worthwhile comment.