Jared The Gay Vampire: Part 4

30 09 2008

 

…At first, Jared thought about letting the phone go to voicemail. He was busy gazing at pictures of single guys on MySpace after searching his network for people with interests in both, “Vampires” and “So You Think You Can Dance.” Then the phone rang again. And again. With an annoyed scoff, Jared stands up and his sweaty bare ass sticks to the plastic chair. He skips over to the phone and picks it up.  

“Howdy! Jared speaking!” 

“We know what you’ve done,” the man on the other line growled. He had a mysterious yet malicious tone, like the voice from Field of Dreams mixed with Emperor Palpatine. 

“What?” 

“Don’t try to cover it up. We saw the whole thing.” 

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong! I mean…I was just looking at the pictures!” 

“Wait, no…” 

“Is it because I’m naked?” 

“That’s not what I’m talking about…” 

“Well what the hell are you talking about? The fact that I enjoy drinking red wine and reading Oscar Wilde?” 

“No.” 

“Is it because…” The voice cuts Jared off before he can finish. 

“We know you killed our delivery boy you sick fuck.” 

Jared pauses as a trickle of nervous sweat drips down from his forehead and onto his freshly shaven chest. “You can’t prove that. How would you even know that?” 

“Maybe because you were the last guy to see him. Or maybe because I’m homophobic.” 

“I’m not gay…probably.” 

“Or maybe it’s because you left his dead, penetrated body oozing on your doorstep.” 

Jared clutched the phone to his chest and ran over to the front door, swinging it wide open. Sure enough, the body of the delivery boy was still on his front steps, mouth open and completely bled out. With the voice still trying to talk on the phone, Jared couldn’t look away from the pool of blood and soft lips of the open-mouthed man.

Jared slowly raised the phone to his ear, and as if it were attached by string, his penis began to rise as well.  

The voice yelled, “Get ready for payback. We’ve kidnapped your lover Stephan and were coming for you.” 

With a glance down to what was quickly turning into another deadly murder-boner, Jared kissed the receiver of the phone and whispered, “I dare you.”…

This weeks post was written by a Fetus. A shell of a human being. Someone so small she/he mind as well have been a membrane. Or the mucus that simply surrounds the cell of the membrane. Yet, she/he is this weeks winner. Lets give a rousing round of applause for Fetus. 

ANYWAY, this is when you, the reader, takes over. Email dres@themiddlestchild.com with your continuation of the story. The only constraint = make it around 500 words, and make sure it blows minds. We will look at all of the submissions and choose one with which to continue with.  A new segment will be posted once a week.

Ready, set, make bathroom “X” with all that Sudafed. 





Time Fisters! Issue 1 Pg. 5

29 09 2008





The Official Presidential Debate Drinking Game: Round 1

26 09 2008

 

“Don’t you EVA pull that shit again, or Im’a bring the power of thirty Gods down upon yo’ cracka ass motha Fucka.”
By: A.P. Daniels
Now That’s How You Debate!   

Tonight is the first of the presidential debates.  And since American politics lately have done nothing to merit any respect of any kind, we here at the Middlest Child have decided to profane this event as an excuse to get black-out drunk.  I give you, the Presidential Debates Drinking Game: 

Change = drink

Hope = drink 

McCain uses an outdated word = 5 drinks 

McCain mentions being a Vietnam Vet = 5 drinks

McCain flashes his serial killer smile = drink 

Every time you catch yourself staring at McCain’s jaw instead of listening to what he is saying = drink.  And repent.  You’re a bad person. 

Every time McCain tries to “extend” his “arms” = chuckle then drink. 

Every time you feel your soul being sucked away by the eyes of Cindy McCain = 2 drinks 

Every time you grow an erection from how presidential Obama sounds = drink/touch yourself 

When Obama gets rolling and starts to sound like a Baptist preacher = drink.

      Follow up: If you can’t restrain yourself from yelling “Aaaamen!” after he

      finishes = finish your drink 

Either candidate mentions Ole Miss football as a cheap way to get applause = 5 drinks 

If a candidate’s response dodges the question so blatantly that the moderator either calls him on it or just laughs = 5 drinks 

Sarah Palin reference = drink

Hillary Clinton reference = drink until you have beer goggles 

Logical fallacy/non sequitor in argument = drink/hang your head. 

If the phrase “The horrible attacks of 9/11” is used verbatim = finish your drink/get over it. 

If Paris Hilton is even fucking mentioned = finish the bottle and blow your goddamned brains out.





Sarah Palien?

25 09 2008

In conjunction with one from the Daniel’s family (First name withheld do their security) The Middlest Child has come across this frightening bit of information. I believe we were the only ones to know the truth….until now.

Have at it internet folk.





Top Ten Reasons to Vote for John McCain

24 09 2008

By Kari G.

Surprisingly, not every candidate on the ballot is looking to privatize social security and gather as may nuclear weapons as possible. But one is, ladies and gentlemen: John McCain. So, in honor of my newfound love, I present the top ten reasons to vote for him in November (in descending order).

McCain is America

10. His name. John Sidney McCain. America has seen a fair share of notable Johns, and McCain would be a proud addition to such a list, including: John Adams, John Hancock, John Stamos, John Wilkes Booth, Jon Bon Jovi…and let’s not forget John Smith, the lovable American that brought the power and success of democracy to Pocahontas’ accepting village. John’s last name, McCain, stands like a bold rock on the page, and has the McCorporate power prefix like that of the All-American cheeseburger. His name might as well be McAmerica. McCain’s competition is futile, as his first name rhymes with Iraq (Barack), and he shares his middle name with Saddam (Hussein). That’s a double-whammy. Did I mention his last name is strikingly similar to Osama? Triple whammy. That’s the most un-American name I’ve ever heard of.

 

9. John McCain doesn’t know how to use a computer. In an interview with Yahoo News, McCain was asked if he used “a Mac or a PC,” to which he responded triumphantly with, “I am an illiterate who relies on my wife to handle everything like that.” Bravo, John. It’s about time we as Americans did away with all this “technological” nonsense and moved towards the good old days, back when you wrote information on clay tablets and were struck with a ruler for bad posture or for not poking fun at a minority. Remember those days, John? It’s not like computers have anything to do with being in charge of nuclear weapons, right?

 

8. McCain’s not interested in social issues. He bluntly quoted, “It’s not the social issues I care about,” and couldn’t be more enlightening. Who cares about civil rights? Who cares about the people? Not America, that’s for damn sure. If there’s one thing America stands for, it’s democracy (see: imperialism). As long as McCain’s in office, we’ll be too preoccupied with the important issues like national security to worry about little “social issues.”

 

7. McCain doesn’t understand economics. He quotes, “The issue of economics is not something I’ve understood as well as I should.” Ain’t that the truth. I’ve never been the best at balancing my checkbook, and it’s just a myth concocted by the Democrats that our economy is in the gutter. As long as those tax cuts keep digging into the working class, I’m home free! Plus, economics isn’t that important of an issue (see Reason 8 for details).

 

6. He has a great sense of humor. At a National Rifle Association rally, a hilarious joke was made about Senator Barack Obama being assassinated. The joke stated, “That was Barack Obama. He just tripped off a chair. He’s getting ready to speak and someone aimed a gun at him and he fell to the floor.” Actually, that quote didn’t come from McCain, but Senator Mike Huckabee. What a jokester, though! Let’s hope he carries that NRA sense of humor straight into the VP spot!

 

5. He’s intimidating. Let’s be honest. The greatest quality we need to look for in our next president is how well they’d fair in a staring contest against terrorists. Plural. Well, ladies and gentlemen, McCain strikes fear into the hearts of even the toughest of tough, as a fellow American and Republican Senator quoted, “The thought of him [McCain] being president sends a cold chill down my spine. He’s erratic. He’s hotheaded. He loses his temper and he worries me.” Fuck yes. That is word for word what we need to hope Bin Laden is saying in his cave in whatever the hell language foreigners speak. Once we get an arsenal of nuclear weapons into the hands of a hot head like McCain, terrorists won’t know what to do (don’t worry, we’d nuke them before they nuked us).

 

4. McCain knows how to win. When that preppy-boy Matt Lauer asked McCain what a time frame for bringing American soldiers back from Iraq would be, John replied with, “That’s not too important. What’s important is the casualties.” You tell him, John. What does Matt Lauer know about war? It’s obvious that the only thing that matters is death. Families that are whining about their children fighting war across the world will just have to suck it, ‘cause they ain’t dead yet! McCain also stated he’d be perfectly fine with keeping troops in Iraq for 100 years. Why the fuck not, right? I mean, if the people of Iraq didn’t want us there, they probably would’ve told us by now. It’s not that big of a deal, America. It’s only a century.

 

3. He’s a religious man. Not just that, McCain knows that the real way to succeed as a country is not to acknowledge all those kooky religions that this salad bowl of a country is following, but to focus simply on one: the best one. Unite the people and their beliefs. Mccain says, “The number one issue that is in the selection of the United States [president] is ‘will this person carry on in the Judeo-Christian tradition that has made this Nation the greatest experiment of mankind.”’ Amen. To Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

 

2. He’s going to bomb the shit out of Iran. McCain is an all-American. He’s a military man, and a POW to be exact. He knows his guns. Therefore, placing the military at the disposal of a bitter war veteran is the best choice for our nation. Researchers could prove, one assumes, that there would be no negative consequences for invading yet another country in the Middle East. If anything, it would only assert our worldly dominance and get those pesky terrorists off our backs. We need to open up the files on Brinkmanship, an idea developed in the Cold War by John Foster Dulles, who told Eisenhower the best way to defend our nation was to use nuclear weapons as a threat and bring war “to the brink.” Hell, Cold War ideals like containment have worked damn well so far. We need to take charge, and McCain can do this. He playfully stated to press, “You know that old Beach Boys song, ‘Bomb Iran?’ ‘Bomb, bomb, bomb…bomb, bomb Iran.’” Ha! That McCain is one hilarious guy! I believe he changed the words to the classic, “Barbara Ann,” but if you ask me we should call up Brian Wilson and the rest of the boys and ask them to change the lyrics. They’re much better that way.

 

1. He knows how to put a woman in her place. At a public conference, McCain’s wife, Cindy, playfully twirled his hair and stated (annoyingly), “You’re getting a little thin up there.” McCain kept his cool and replied with a subtle, “At least I don’t plaster on the makeup like a trollop, you cunt.” McCain claims it was a “long day,” which I see as fair proof that this behavior will be continued during his long days in the Oval Office. This is good news, America, because we need a strong-willed, masculine president that’s not afraid to tell his woman to make him a sandwich. Because sometimes he’s hungry. And sometimes she’s being a cunt. And America, McCain will not hesitate to throw the c-word into battle against those cowardly terrorists, either.

 

There you have it, my fellow Americans. The top ten reasons to vote for John Sidney McCain. The facts are here. The quotes have been spoken. I know you may be hesitant because of his age, but let me assure you that his senile behavior will only enhance the bold and immediate responses McCain will provide to threats made to American soil. Think about your safety, America, and vote McCain in November.





Terry, The Forgetful Serial Killer

22 09 2008
By: Kyle Dickinson        

 

Today I found Kurt Russell’s body in the back of my car.  What excitement!  Mangled, bloodied, decapitated, the whole works.  This guy was murDURED. My first reaction was: “Wow, is Kurt Russell ACTING dead in the trunk of my car?  Putting on a horror show for lil’ ol’ me?  Jesus, the make-up is out-of-this-world and he really went for it on the decapitation!  I mean, personally, I would have picked somebody else to act for me, but this is probably Kurt’s best work since…ever.”  

And that’s when it dawned on me – Kurt Russell could never really be that good.  He just isn’t believable.  I saw the preview for Poseidon and I nearly vomited someone else’s blood.  He is not only mediocre, but he hasn’t been relevant since the early 90’s; I’m surprised he wasn’t in Wild Hogs.  Anyway, like I was saying, I realized that Kurt Russell could not and was notacting in Escape from Terry’s Trunk, but was rather a corpse rotting in my Jetta.   I smiled.  Something was right with the world. 

You should have seen it!  Whoever chopped his head off did just a fantastic job.  If you were to put him sitting up in a chair, with his head back on top, it would have actually looked like he was alive!  You should believe me, because I tried.  It looked pretty good though, like a sleeping Kurt Russell.  Like he was a night guard at some downtown building who had fallen asleep on his shift.  You could just walk around in front of the cameras, flipping him off and stealing shit, without him even noticing.  And you know he fell asleep watching Seinfeld, or Spike TV.  The sound would still be on, and we’d know that he was probably a guard in danger of losing his job, so now that he happened to be dead it wouldn’t really matter.  Kurt Russell: Sleeping Security Guard.  That sounds so much better than Kurt Russell: Actor. 

I looked around to see if anyone had noticed, or possibly smelled his decaying scent, but there was no one in the parking garage so I closed the trunk.  I thought to myself, “I hope I murdered Kurt Russell, cut his head off, and put it in the back of my trunk.  That would be fantastic.”  So, I got a garbage bag, took him to my room, and thought for a while.  The television was still on, but it was paused, on a frame of Kevin Costner.  It all came rushing back.  I began to laugh at my mistake.  Oh, Terry, you’re so silly! 

You see, I had stumbled upon “The Upside of Anger” the night before.  I was high, it was on basic cable, and I enjoy Joan Allen (she’s such a bitch!).  But after staring at the television for more than a half-hour I began to get infuriated, simply terrifyingly angry.  I’m usually so calm on my marijuana cable-surf days, that I knew something was wrong. Kevin Costner was just plastered all over the screen.  This was a Kevin Costner movie.  How had I missed that?  I had thought it was a romantic sort of chick-flick (favorite genre, anyone?)  “Oh,” I said to myself, “he’s in that stage of his career now.”  I had always hated him, and I usually would have just changed the channel, but I got that feeling.    

I had to kill someone. 

Okay, I know what you’re thinking: why was it Kurt Russell who was headless in my apartment, and not Kevin Costner?  You’re really going to laugh.  Honestly.  I got them confused.  That’s all!  Ever since that 3,000 Miles to Graceland movie, the two are just flip-flopped and crisscrossed in my head.  I mean, I’ve always hated them individually, but that movie just made them one big human fuck-up in my eternally fucked-up brain.   

To be honest, I really can’t remember the series of events that lead Kurt and his head to my trunk, but I must’ve just spotted him first and got caught up in all the excitement and highly concentrated hatred.  Oh well, Kurt Russell had done enough damage to write it off as “justice served.” 

Kyle Dickinson wrote this piece. If you like it then by all means read his personal blog www.theunlimitedfreedomcastle.com. It’s this cute project he is doing with illustrator/artist/best friend Kent St. John. It is even gallery friendly. (It has appeared in art galleries) Overall its pretty money. www.theunlimitedfreedomcastle.com
  


 





Jared the Gay Vampire Part 3

19 09 2008

… And all of a sudden, with an angry thrusting motion, Jared grabbed the unknown Vampire’s head and stabbed him through the heart with his massive, shining, murder-boner.  Luckily for Jared he’d recently gotten a silver spiked piercing on the tip of his boner (which he’d gotten on a whim), and the vampire turned to dust almost instantaneously.  

It was in this “almost” moment that Jared squealed with delight.  The sight of a man, on his knees, in front of him was a rush that he hadn’t yet experienced in his years as a possibly-straight male.  It was a feeling of sheer exhilaration coupled with unending sexual fulfillment, and when the vanquished vampire vanished, Jared stared into the nothingness with a look of disappointment.  More tears welled up in his eyes, and dropped in slow motion onto his bulging, bloodied cock.  It was cinematic.  But the tears did not stay long, and a smile crept on to his face.  It was a smile of recognition, the recognition that Jared was finally something in this crazy, fucked-up world.  

For so long Jared had been just another boring-ass, white-bred, polo-wearing, trust fund baby from Laguna Beach.  And he knew it.  He began to feel that his life was filled with meaningless material things, like his devotion to his mother, and cataloging his kick-ass cuff link collection.  He’d become so disillusioned with the world that he began to slap the homeless people of Santa Ana just so he could feel something.   Also, it was becoming hard to battle the feelings he’d developed for his best friend, the charming computer technician, Stephan.  Up until that day, Jared was lost.  Now, baby, he was found.  

Standing there, pants down, and completely flaccid, Jared pulled out his pocket mirror and looked at himself.  With that special smile still on his face he said to himself, “Jared, you’re somebody now!  You should go start a Myspace page, and then a Myspace group called Gay Vampires Unite, so that every Gay Vampire can feel they have a place in this world!  Also, you should tell Stephan how you feel.  It’s the only way you can truly be free!”  

With a newfound flourish he ran to his room, and he started that Myspace account.  Oh boy, did he ever.

That’s when the phone rang…

 

Thanks everybody for your submissions we received a whopping 1 email. A single submission. Down from last week. This weeks winner is Kyle Dickinson from Oregon. He’s ruggedly handsome yet refined. He took upon himself to write two things and we liked them both so he will be featured on Monday. Thank you K-Dick I don’t care what you’re mom says, I’m sure she loves you.

ANYWAY, this is when you, the reader, takes over. Email dres@themiddlestchild.com with your continuation of the story. The only constraint = make it around 500 words, and make sure it blows minds. We will look at all of the submissions and choose one with which to continue with.  A new segment will be posted every thursday night. 

Ready, set, don’t kill yourself.





Time Fisters! Issue 1 Pg. 4

18 09 2008





Top Secret Documents Revealed

16 09 2008

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s with great courage that yours truly, Kari G. and Dres F.C. present to you the following three documents. While out scavenging the trash for food to feed our poor writer mouths, we stumbled upon a treasure chest of confidential correspondence that had luckily escaped a shredder. Behold, readers, letters between Barack Obama, Alec Baldwin, and Tina Fey in regards to the GOP campaign.

LETTER ONE:

LETTER TWO:

LETTER THREE:

These letters explain so much. We felt it our duty here at themiddlestchild.com to expose the truth and genius behind these letters. If Kari G. and Dres F.C. were to suddenly disappear, you now know why. Good night, America. And good luck.





Time Fisters Issue 1 Pg. 3

11 09 2008