A lot of people think I’m only interested in comedy when it comes to movies and entertainment. They couldn’t be more wrong. I love movies with purpose. I love movies that make you want to contribute to the greater good of mankind. Movies that inspire you to be a better person. That’s why I just watched one of my favorite inspirational movies ever…Blank Check. It’s the story of a genius bike riding preteen that gets hit by a rich douche bag’s car and in the douche bags attempts at avoiding any confrontation with the law he hands the kid a blank check. Right? I know. A fantastic plot line. Every time I finish watching this cinema classic I know I’m a better person. It has inspired me to do so much. Like today, I’ve walked in front of six cars, three tucks, and a school bus. Both of my arms are broken and I can’t feel anything below my thighs, but I’m not quiting because I know with persistence a rich douche bag will run me over and give me a blank check. And with that check I will be able to buy at least 100 cases of beer…and that right there equals a lot of fun for at least three days.

Under a Car,

Daniel Dickey

They say meeting a guy over the Internet can be hard… they must have not met you. What started in a M2M chat room for Phoenix singles has lead to a six day paradise. Am I in heaven? Probably (Because you’re an angel). Looking at your shirtless physique I wish I could taste your milk. If MacArthur Dairy decided to start mass producing a milk flavored after your chest and belly I would buy 1000 cartons. Maybe a million. A lot of my friends say you look like a murderer, but I know they’re just jealous. How could you be? Have they looked into those little Hershey eyes? Have they cyber kissed your stubbly dimples? Have they listened to you moan as you comb your hair with a fork?

Staring at this picture I can tell so much about you.

• You obviously love hugging lambs (Is that a rabbit?)
• You also like green and red dragons, like the one on you computer monitor.
• You also like bats, like the one on top of you computer monitor.
• You probably love animals so much!
• You probably have an animal shelter where you save (and/or eat) animals.
• Can someone get me a mop, because I think my heart is melting.

There’s so much to love about you. You ask all the right questions, “Are you parents home right now?” “What does your father smell like?” “If I send you a picture of my dick do you promise not to tell the cops?” You say all the right things, “Surprise! I’m standing outside your window.” “I washed my hair in Pig urine.” “Last night I had a dream I killed you with a bat. The object, not the animal.” How do you know he’s the one? You just do.

I might be getting ahead of myself when I say this, but when I graduate middle school next month I want to run away with you. I’ll knock on the door just like you said, and when your mom opens it, I’ll say I’m one of your friends from school, just like we practiced. Have you ever just laid in the dark staring at the stars? I want to name a star after you. I know my parents will get mad when I leave, but they don’t understand me. They’re just so stupid. First they wouldn’t let me stay out past 11pm even though all my friends could stay out till 12am. Then last week they told me I couldn’t ride my bike without a helmet. They’re the worst parents in the world. No one understands me like you. Remember three days ago when you asked me to send you pictures of me with slippers on? That was so sweet. I even started making a mold of my face with paper mache and newspaper just like you asked. The only thing I don’t understand, why does your doctor need to see pictures of my penis covered in jelly? I know you said I had to send them to you so you could show the doctor and he could make sure I was healthy, but why does your doctor need to make sure I’m healthy? Either way, I’ll take the pictures tonight and mail you the samples of my blood and hair for the doctors.

Thanks for taking good care of me,

Teddy Greenbalt aka Your Teddy Bear ;0)

Boy Scouts?

As my teacher distributed the florescent flyers, they glimmered under the classroom lighting. It’s highlighter green coloring grabbed my attention, but it was the eloquent writing that really sucked me in, “Do you want a pocket knife?” Yes. Yes, I do want a pocket knife. How do you know this? Did they print this flyer just for me? They must have, how else could they have known I wanted a pocket knife so soooo soooooo bad. I remember I used to carry around one of my mother’s lipstick cases because it resembled a pocket knife (Looking back, it did not resemble a pocket knife. I don’t know why I carried this around). The flyer went on to say other fantastic things like, “Do you want to learn how to make a fire with sticks?” OF COURSE!! As a eight year old pyromaniac I loved fires, especially ones made with STICKS!! It ended just as good as it started, “Do you want to go camping and build forts?” How did they infiltrate my brain and learn of all my innermost desires? They knew my dreams, my fantasy’s. Was this love? At eight I wasn’t sure, but I knew there was something special happening.

I was so excited I reread the flyer and stormed out of class before the 2:00pm bell rang. Flyers in hand, I waited in the car pool for my mom. Before she stopped the car I was already in the backseat giggling with glee. Immediately, she noticed my obvious excitement and asked what was behind the big smile. This is what I said to her word for word, “Mom, knifes, scouting, wooden fires, happiness, please, oh my god, mom, boys, tents, ahhhhhhhhhhhh”. I fainted at ahhhhhhhh, but when I regained consciousness my six year old sister was drawing dicks on my face. Face covered in droopy dick drawings, I jump into the front seat and let my boyish love burst out, “Mom I have all these flyers for this thing called the boy scouts. They teach you how to make fires with wood, how to build forts, and the give you pocket knives”. Out of breath I smiled and waited for her response. While my mother fixed her hair in the mirror she casually replied “Danny, silly, boy scouts are for faggots”. “WHAT! Wait. Mom, what’s a faggot?” Now touching up her lipstick, “Don’t worry baby you’re not a fag”. My six year old sister decided to speak up, “Of course he’s a faggot, look at all those big dicks on his face”. I was confused. Didn’t they hear me? I was talking about the boy scouts! This was the greatest thing in the world. In the midst of my thought my mother spoke again, “Danny, we’ll sign you up for soccer again this year. You liked that, remember?” I play soccer for one game and quit after no one told me to wear shin guards. I had to wear legs braces for three years. The wounds on my shins will never heal.

While crying and failing my arms wildly I explained to my mother that I don’t want to play soccer, or stupid baseball, I wanted to be in the boy scouts. They give you uniforms and you get badges and I also loved the movie Bushwhacked, where the boy scout troop gets kidnapped by a runaway felon. At this point my sister suggested my mother should sign me up for girls scouts, that way we could get cookies. They both laughed as I screamed and punched the dashboard. It hurt and I started crying. To calm my tears my mom said I could talk to my father about joining if I really wanted to do it.

Still gripping hope, I told my dad that I wanted to be a boy scout. In his work shirt and a pair of underwaer, he stared at me for quite some time before he finished his beer and then asked, “Are you fucking with me? Did your mom make you say that, because I still didn’t fix the washing machine?” He yelled upstairs, “I’ll fix the fucking washing machine, damn it”! Shaking my head, “Dad no one told me to say that. I got a flyer in school about the best thing in the world…The Boy Scouts! I want to join it so bad. I love it so much. I love it enough to be the president boy scout”. What my father said next as he poured steak sauce on his chicken leg has stayed with me throughout my life, “Danny what if I told you you could be a boy scout, but on your first trip your leader would stick his finger in your ass?” How does a eight year old boy respond to this? “You mean like a thermometer, to check my temperature?” Still staring at me blankly my father replied, “Yes, he wants to check the temperature of your asshole to make sure it’s nice and warm”. Again I was young, “Well if it’s warm then I might have a fever. Am I getting sick?” My father smacked me in the face with his sauce covered chicken leg and walked out of the kitchen. Seconds later he walked back in, “Are those dicks drawn all over your face?” “Yes dad”. He broke a lamp as stormed out of the kitchen once again.

As the day came for the boy scout meeting after school I remember sulking in my seat as ‘the other kids’ talked about what color pocket knife they were going to get. I made a promise to myself that day, when I have a son he can be a boy scout no matter what. Even if he is stupid and has three legs, he can be a boy scout. Because everyone should have the opportunity to learn to build forts and stick fires.

I should mention that after the kids who joined came back from there first camping trip they all said the were sick. They all looked fine so I question what was wrong? They told me their troop leader said they looked warm and had to check them for a fever.

Update: They were all molested and have no friends on facebook.

Here’s some pictures of their scout leaders, courtesy of court records.