Friday, March 24, 2006

I am the Gargoyle! Posted by Hello

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Monday, October 31, 2005

The Count Gargoyle

I vant to shit my pants!

Gargoyles and Vampires make strange bedfellows but this is 2005 and the multiculturalists have made sufficient inroads to bless this union. Begin the Vampire Gargoyle much the same as any of the previously described ‘goyles only throw in an additional fluid: blood. When you are staring at yourself hard in the mirror after a long night with Jose Cuervo and your reflection starts to blur with tequila cataracts and then altogether disappears because Dracula does not do mirrors, you better get out the garlic and the holy water because the booze is tearing the walls of your intestines like the endometrium of a uterus during menses and you are about to hemorrhage into the bowl worse than when your boyfriend punched you in the womb because he thought you were pregnant. If you are hemophobic snort ammonia as you Monster (S)Mash to keep from passing out, allowing you to maintain an upright position on the john. Follow the Universal Blood and Body Fluid Precautions as published by the CDC when cleaning up this Gargoyle as to prevent any undesired contact with your own bloodborne pathogens.

Vampires are famously sensual and sexual beings (see: Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise wearing fangs, a tuxedo and a cape in “Interview…”) and they typically gain access to victims’ inner sanctums and then jugulars by exercising their powers of seduction. Count Donny Masturbates All Over the Place, however, has not had a good meal in months. For whatever Mojo he might have with the ladies he spills into a sock each night as he watches them from their windowsill. Count Donny remains, then, forlorn, pasty, and hungry in his castle in Telford, a suburb of Transylvania. He also has a big head.

Red Cross Donor Alert: A blood types may only Gargoyle in other A types’ bathrooms. Vis-à-vis the B group. O groups, however, can Gargoyle in A groups, B groups or other O groups’ bathrooms as they see fit.

Little Known But Obvious Fact: Vampires don’t poop, as they don’t ingest solids. What they try to pass for a bowel movement might best be described as a desiccated hematoma.

Scouting Report:
Difficulty: Tougher than spotting the farmer’s tan on Wesley Snipes in “Blade.”
Intensity: Like getting pounded in the ass (so we’ve heard).
Clean Up Time: Immortal.

Monday, July 11, 2005

The Inappropriate Uncle

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Most uncles can fart on cue when you pull their finger but only the most inappropriate can gargoyle under their own volition when given this dactylic command. And this is notable because holding in a stewing gargoyle until the time proves exactly right is the only restraint these individuals exhibit in life. These guys are typically loaded, for instance, at every family function and sell pot to their nieces and nephews. The uncles’ impressive mastery of their own excretory system, then, can only be rightly compared to the laudable self control exhibited by Mr. Donny Beats during lent. To scout out these most inappropriate uncles look for ones that are unmarried, rock mullets, drink Piels by the twelve pack, and wear their Hawaiian shirts unbuttoned enough to show off unruly chest hair. The most nefarious will probably have only completed their education through junior college because they dropped out in order to franchise a Hollywood Tans.

A Philadelphia Story: Uncle Eddy Savitz, perhaps the most inappropriate of all persons to abuse the endearing designation “uncle,” was depravedly fond of soiled boys’ underwear. Were this perverse purveyor still alive today, he would be paying top dollar for the polluted drawers resulting from the many gargoyles catalogued on this site.

Scouting Report

Difficulty: Harder than the wood an I.U. (inappropriate uncle) pops when hanging out poolside with his underage bikini-clad niece.

Clean Up Time: More time consuming than picking out an I.U.s curlies from the sink after he shaved them off with your face razor.

Impressiveness: Yes, very impressive.

Friday, June 10, 2005

The Telemarketer

Congradulations, you've just won a free change of underpants! Posted by Hello

Just as aggravating telemarketers phone *67 at the dinner hour hawking visa cards, vacation plans and insurance policies this annoying gargoyle waits until you are eating and then employs high pressure sales techniques to make you purchase a bathroom time share of poop and vomit. Halfway through Mom’s undercooked chicken parm the line starts to ring in your stomach and gut and you wonder: who is this calling me? “Maybe it is my friend diarrhea” and like a friend calling, you look forward to the entertaining dialogue. But it sort of feels like throw up. This is like a call from Grandmom- you’re not thrilled about talking to her but in the end you feel better about yourself having done it. The last call you want to take, however, is from a fucking telemarketer and as the gargoyle brings you to your knees you scream “I told you assholes to stop calling me!” and you expel from both ends wishing you had taken the national Do Not Call List more seriously.

Overalls threw a bash for Jeans Brother associate Donny Beats-A-Lot and invited a veritable cast of igargoyled characters in addition to Blue and No including Mr. B, Henry Winkler and Dave Coulier. The occasion? Donny had blown his first load that was not completely initiated by himself (Donny erupted in his pants when a post-menopausal athletic trainer begin to massage and loosen up his shoulders in preparation for a Nukem scrimmage). This plus it was Donny’s birthday. Overalls was woking up some chicken for the guests and couldn’t help but snack on the chicken while still raw (Overalls has poor self control- see Coach’s Son, re: walking and beating off). As Overalls plops down dinner for the guests the salmonella in his gut mate and multiply into salmonellae sending Overalls speed dialing to the toilet. “That’s our Dad!” the Jeans brothers brag as the distinctive tones of the gargoyle ring throughout the downstairs, whetting everyone’s appetite.

Scouting Report
Difficulty: Harder than getting a sales caller to believe your parents are actually in the shower. Both of them.
Irritation Factor: Like diaper rash.
Clean Up Time: Longer than the message on your answering machine promising fame, fortune and bigger genitals from some guy in Minnesota wearing a headset.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

The Arthur Fonzarelli

No caption necessary Posted by Hello


The never obsolete captain of cool continues to spread his influence on what is now his grandkids’ generation like polmade on a comb over. To execute this extremely hip gargoyle, face the wall like a dunce and mount the toilet like it’s a straight-backed chair at Arnold’s. Lift the lid off the tank as smoothly as the Fonz lifts girls’ V cards at the hop and spew into the top and bottom like a turbo charged soda fountain. To flush, swiftly punch the puke box like the Fonz at the juke box.

Inside Edition: Jeans brothers associate Donny Beats-a-lot stays up all hours of the night watching Crappy Daze reruns hoping to see the rumored lost episode where Chiachi does it with Joanie. The episode has yet to materialize but Donny Beats imagines what the gratuitous scenes might look like as he jumps his own shark in the shower.

Little Known Hollywood Fact: Henry Winkler used to tape his lines to the wall in back of the toilet and memorize them while sitting backwards on the John making his Henry Stinklers.

Scouting Report
Difficulty: Parallel to Richie Cunningham driving in his member at the drive-in
Intensity: As intense as the dude from your high school that still wears his leather sleeved varsity jacket
Clean up time: Approximately 13 minutes to get the barf out of the toilet top, 1 flush, and hours/days/months of explaining if you are ever caught performing this bass ackwards act.
Special thanks to Todd Van Allen

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

The Upper Decker

Let the sherpa guide you to the height of your gargoyle potential Posted by Hello

Set up a deferred annuity account, without consulting a financial planner, in the bathroom of someone you loathe by climbing on top of the toilet and smashing in the tank, thus establishing a principle balance that will sustain withdraws with each flush into the foreseeable future. Allow yourself to be overtaken with the nauseating vertigo brought on by the extreme height and puke into the bowl below. Future defecators will be confused and frustrated when they go to clear their own poop and the “fresh” water is as brown as the muddy delta of the Mississippi.

Climbing to such altitudes to increase the gravitational potential energy of your crap does not come without risks. Like a Phillies fan seated in the 700 level of the Vet, you may experience nose bleeds, hypoxia and ultimately death. Give your body a chance to acclimatize to the thinner atmosphere by training on first floor toilets. Then, when you are ready for the big show, lighten your burden by hiring a Sherpa or any other asian you can find to carry your gear and hand up toilet paper when you are through with the upper deck.

Heard on the Street: The Jeans brothers have been hired by the Mentos company to produce one of their weird ass commercials. The ad opens to a housewife mopping the kitchen floor barefoot and squeezing her crotch, indicating her need to urinate. When she runs into the bathroom to relieve herself she finds Blue Jeans perched on top of her tank pinching one out. She mouths, “What the fuck are you doing?!” but Blue Jeans just grins and holds up a half-eaten package of Mentos. She then smiles back like a Buddha receiving Total Consciousness. No Jeans, being the extremely particular director that he is and unhappy with the continued look of consternation on the woman’s face upon seeing Blue dumping into the top of her toilet, demanded so many retakes of the final scene that Blue Jeans ingested a good four to five packs of Mentos before the bitch finally got it right, causing Blue to puke into the bowl below from the overdose.


Mr. B, a long time Jeans brothers associate and prolific gargoyler, originated the Upper Decker one night at an after Winter Dance party. Having been passed up by his long time crush who instead double dated the Jeans brothers that night, Mr. B goes stag to the dance dressed in an eight ball jacket and crashes his crush’s after party uninvited. Falling through the front door drunk and disorderly with three rancid tuna hoagies under his armpit for himself and his friends Blue and No, Mr. B is greeted with stares and whispers as the only two welcoming people at the party are in the basement double finger-banging their date. Discouraged, Mr. B seeks refuge in the upstairs master bedroom where his crush was conceived and buries his insecurities deep inside his gut along with the three hoagies.
Slowly working up the courage to go back downstairs to ask his crush to go steady, Mr. B makes himself beautiful in the bathroom mirror by picking all of the tuna out of his teeth. All the sudden Mr. B feels the hoagies sprinting down his descending colon to the finish line and, not wanting to interrupt his preening, Mr. B climbs on top of the toilet so he can continue to see his reflection in the bowl water. The foot long hoagies roar out undigested and more rancid than ever into the upper tank causing Mr. B to lose his balance and fall backwards anus-first onto the flotation mechanism, which reverses the flow of his GI track like a civil war ram rod producing vomitus onto his newly dolled up reflection in the bowl below.

Little known fact- Mr. B the entrepreneur invented his own water shooting ass/vagina cleanser called the B-day®.

Scouting Report

Difficulty: More difficult than obtaining a copy of No Jeans Upper Decker and Topps shelf rookie card. The one that says “Fuck Face” on the nub of his bat.
Intensity: Like climbing Mt Everest without supplemental oxygen
Clean up time: Depends how handy you are with a goldfish scooper, but if left untreated, months.

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

The Bizarrgoyle

The Bizarrgoyle: More complex than just switching the color in MacPaint from Brown to Green. Posted by Hello

Break the mold and gargoyle outside the box and into the twilight zone by puking out your ass and shitting out your mouth. While no one has proof that such a phenomenon exists, Blue Jeans swears by his pants that he totally Kris Krossed himself out one fateful Opposite Day. “No Jeans kept calling me dingleberry breath. Obviously you can’t have dingleberries without poop. It’s like the chicken and the egg. I pooped out my mouth and I’m lucky, because had I’d been more fastidious and wiped properly I wouldn’t have any proof.” Pressed for further evidence Blue Jeans offered, “The janitor came in and threw sawdust on my ass puke. You don’t put sawdust on poop.” There you have it. But until we can investigate this matter further, or at least until we obtain a more objective and unbiased affidavit, we will file this gargoyle alongside the records we keep on UFOs, Sasquatch, the JFK assassination and certain STDs.

Bonus: For added effect turn off the lights and shine a flashlight underneath your chin as you Bizarrgoyle.

Hollywood Moment: David Duchovny, who plays second fiddle special agent Fox Mulder on the hit show the X Files, cultivates the unusual and Bizarrgoyles like the true method actor he has always been.

Scouting Report

Difficulty: Out of this world
Intensity: What do you think!
Clean Up Time: A lifetime of coping and countless hours of therapy
Likelihood of Bizarrgoyling: Winning the lottery, being struck by lightning, twice, wrestling with Big Foot, Blowing Nessey, Seeing a ghost, having hot chocolate with the Abominable Snowman, and getting laid by a REAL woman all in one day