There's One, Only!

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Anniversary

It's been a while, but I'm going to throw my two cents into this weeks Filthy Lie assignment.

Harv wants to know: How will Evil Glenn be celebrating his 5th Blogiversary?

Well... I haven't been able to find out anything specific about Evil Glenn's plans. But I did hear that he spent his week long "vacation" traveling to meet his Zionist masters to get his instructions for the coming year.

(The only real hint I got was that he may be adding "Oy Vey" to his regular comments of "Heh" "Hmmm" and "Indeed".)

Filthy Lie: Know thy Enemy-Frank J.

Wow. It looks like Frank J.'s been running IMAO for four years now. And you know what that means?

That's right! It's time to tell filthy lies about Frank! And in a manner shamelessly stolen from Frank.

Know Thy Enemy: Frank J.

FUN FACTS ABOUT FRANK J.

* Frank J. claims to be a samuri.

* He also has an apreciation for firearms.

* Together those two facts make him the most dangerous person in... his house.

* Except for his wife Sarah K. -who in addition to the above skills can also add "Combat Singing."

* Some people claim that his blog's name, IMAO, stands for In My Arrogant Oppinion.

* They're wrong.

* It actually means "I Mao" and is a reference to Frank J.'s belief that he is the re-incarnation of Mao Tse Tung.

* Frank J's site should not be confused with IMOW or IMOE. Which are, respectively, about lawn care and the leader of The Three Stooges.

* Frank J. claims to hate cats.

* He actually likes them a lot... with Orange Sauce and a side of noodles.

* It's order #42 at the Chinese restaurant down the street.

* Frank J. was once shot by a monkey.

* Frank J. was forced to kill that monkey with his samuri skills.

* Fortunately for Frank, the monkey hadn't completed Ninja school or Frank would have been a goner.

* Frank J. made IMAO a group blog so he would have more time to pursue his hobbies.

* The main one being -hunting down all the monkeys on the planet.

* Spacemonkey only gets to live until Frank gets around to extraterrestrials.

* Frank J. once met Chuck Norris.

* Well he would have met him if he hadn't hid in fear behind the sunglass stand at the mall where Mr. Norris was signing autographs.

* Frank J. isn't afraid of Chuck Norris. He's afraid of beards.

* Which is probably the only reason he hasn't kicked Harvey off IMAO yet.

* There is only one thing better than reading Frank J.'s writing at IMAO.

* And that's reading more of Frank J.'s writings!

* Happy Blogiversary Frank!

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Father's Day

So, what is Evil Glenn, arguably the father of the Blogosphere as we know it, doing on Father's Day this year?

The same thing he does every year. Sit in front of his computer, hitting the [Refresh] button on his e-mail. Waiting for the Blog-Father's Day card that never comes...

*Click*

Still no card...

Filthy Lie: June 6, 2006 (6/6/6)

(A Filthy Lie)

From what I have been able to discover of Evil Glenn's plans for this Numeralogically Evil Day, Evil Glenn intends to spend the whole day playing the most diabolical, fiendishly cruel, demonically inspired numeralogical game ever devised.

Soduku.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn gets dressed

Boy, sometimes I really wonder about Harvey. Of all the strange things to learn about Evil Glenn, Harv want's to know how Evil Glenn dresses for work?

We're talking about a blogger here. An evil blogger, but a blogger none the less. And that implies pajamas or even less.... *shudder*

But I'm going to assume that Harv's asking about how Evil Glenn dresses for his day job. Proffessor at some university or another.

Well, I managed to talk to a former valet of Evil Glenn's. The poor man was almost completely mad, but I managed to get some information out of him in the small period of lucidity he had as his sedatives were kicking in.

First, when Evil Glenn rolls out of bed, he kicks off his pajamas (or, if it was a cold night, his puppy-fur lined penguin suit) and stands au-natural, spraddle legged and spread armed, and lets himself air out for a full minute. Then he hops into the shower for 15 seconds, just long enough for his hair to get wet enough for his comb-over to work.

Once he's done with brushing his teeth and flossing (using the puppy collar from the previous night's puppy-shake) he skips back into his bedroom humming the theme to "Bonanza."

Back in his bedroom, he quickly puts on his left sock and a pirate eyepatch (over his right eye). He goes to the closet and picks out a shirt and slides it on over his head - the buttons are already all done up, so sometimes he get's stuck with it over his head and flails around for a bit. He then grabs the coat-hanger and pretends to be Captain Hook. (About half the time, he stabs himself with the hanger...)

After bandaging himself, if necessary, he then puts on his other sock and a tie. Then he slides across the wood floor to a large doorway and starts singing "Old Time Rock N' Roll" into his hair brush.

After the big finale to his musical number, he prances back into the bedroom and puts on his pants. BOTH legs at once! With a final flourish, he slides into his sandals and holds his feet out for the valet to buff.

Then, when he zips up, he then realizes that yet again, he's forgotten his underwear. What follows almost defys explanation. Somehow, Evil Glenn manages to put his underwear (tighty whiteys by the way) on without removing his pants. It involves a great deal of contortion, the coat-hanger he was playing with earler, and a lot of snapping elastic.

And that is HOW Evil Glenn gets dressed every morning. Don't you wish you had stopped reading in the first paragraph?

Filthy Lie: Evil Mother's Day

Well, I just happen to be too lazy this week to come up with a new Filthy Lie. So I'm taking a page out of blog-father Harvey's book and recycling this entry from last year. Besides, doesn't Evil Glenn do the same thing every year?

Everyone has a mother. It's a biological necessity. Even Saddam Hussein had a mother. (He had her boiled in camel milk as an April Fools joke, but that's another story.)

So it should come as no surprise that even Evil Glenn has a mother. And so, he also has to celebrate Mother's Day.

Thus, the question was raised:

What does Evil Glenn do for Mother's Day?

And to this end, I give you

Incredibly Inane Information about Evil Glenn's Mother's Day.

* Evil Glenn used to give his mother fresh flowers every Mother's Day. But now that the cemeteries all lock their gates at night, he has a hard time stealing them from the memorials.
* He once sent her a box of chocolate covered nuts for Mother's Day, but she had an allergic reaction to them.
* The next year he just sent her a big jar of nuts. It turns out she wasn't allergic to the chocolate, like he thought.
* Another time, Evil Glenn dressed up like Santa Clause and climbed down her chimney to deliver her flowers.
* He gets confused about holidays, and sometimes mixes them up.
* Fortunately, it was a warm night, so the fire wasn't too big.
* Too bad his name isn't Chester. (sorry really bad/obscure joke)
* Unlike his father who apreciates getting a big bottle of liquor for Father's Day, Evil Glenn's mother doesn't like to drink.
* So Glenn's dad get's booze in both in June and May!
* Evil Glenn has gotten so cheep that he's started giving recycled greeting cards.
* This year she's getting a Bah Mitzvah card.
* At least it's better than the "Congratulations on the Successful Sex Change Operation!" card she got last year.

Fitlthy Lie: Evil Immigration

Like just about everyone who travels in political circles, Evil Glenn has his own personal position on Illegal Imigration.

His official position on the subject is standing on one leg with his right foot tucked behind his left knee (like a number 4) while his left-hand index finger is in his ear and his right hand grabs his collar behind his head. He usually stands on a copy of the Wall Street Journal, but said that he could be persuaded to move to a glossy mag if anyone has convincing arguements for such a move.

Frankly, it doesn't make any less sense than the White House's position to me....

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Podcast

Wow. What a coincidence. This week's Filthy Lie request by Harvey was to find out what Evil Glenn's next podcast was going to be about. And by a freak chance, I happened upon an un-edited recording of just that!

Here's what Evil Glenn really thinks of Tony Snow becoming the new Press Secretary.

Click here to listen to the 'Evil-Glenn-Podcast'

A transcript of the recording is in the extended entry.

Evil Glenn: (really evil laugh)

So. You half-wits at the White House turned down my application to be the new Press Secretary. You felt I would have brought too much "baggage" to the position. You thought that I didn't have the "credentials" to be behind your stupid little podium.

Well. I'll show all of you! (Evil Laugh)

Well Mr. Snow, if that is your real name, we'll see how well you like talking to the press while you're being attacked by my assault penguins! (evil Laugh for a long time) Maurice! Bring me a lozenge.

(Wa wa wa wa wa)

What do you mean they're not ready yet?

(wa wa wa wa wa)

Well, what about the ones in my private chambers?

(wa wa wa wa wa)

Oh then. Just forget it.

Um... Well in that case...

I'll show you all by doing podcasts that sound better than any of your so called press conferences.

Yessss that should do it, Maurice. Now run this recording down to the special effects department so they can take the eeeeevilllll sound out of my voice the way they usually do. And have them edit out that section about the penguins..... mmmmmmm penguins.

(wawawaw)

What do you mean I'm still recording? Oh -

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn and the Easter Bunny

This week, Harvey asked us to caption this picture.

Evil Glenn: So, you leave eggs and you can't fly... that practically makes you a penguin.

Easter Bunny: Who is this man, and what is he doing with my tail?

That's the best I can do. Sorry.

Filthy Lie: Glennpocalypse

Signs that Evil Glenn is causing the Apocalypse:

* New translations of the Dead Sea Scrolls include the commandment to "Honor thy Blogger."

* Flocks of penguins were sighted flying NORTH for the Summer.

* Waitaminute! Penguins were seen FLYING?

* Several bloggers received massive traffic spikes, WITHOUT a corresponding link from Instapundit.

* One blogger got a link from Instapundit, but DID NOT get any hits from it!

* Movie theaters in Japan are showing Smell-O-Vision.

* The U.S. 9th Court upholds an L.A. City Court ruling that all school courses must be taught in Spanish, Ebonics and/or L33T H4><0r.

* Internet records show that there are now 10 billion blog websites. Or roughly 1.4 sites for every person on the planet. (Unfortunately, most of them have no humor content whatsoever.)

* A cat saves it's family from a house fire. (It claims the fire was set by the family dog...)

* Comedy Central actually censors South Park, out of fear of offending someone... or is that just out of fear?

* And finally, the glut of "Chuck Norris Facts" flowing around the internet is a response to Evil Glenn making the comment that he thought he was better looking than Chuck Norris. Only Evil Glenn's ability to completely disappear into the shadows has prevented Chuck Norris from Roundhouse Kicking him to death. And Chuck not being able to kill someone on the first try, is definitely one of the signs of the Apocalyps.

Filthy Lie: A Book for Evil Glenn

I know this week's Filthy Lie was supposed to be about what book I would send to Evil Glenn if I was trying to send him a message.

Unfortunately, do to other things, (a mixture of being a little forgetfull and a little busy) I wasn't able to come up with any titles.

However, a quick hack into Evil Glenn's Amazon.com wishlist did turn up this interesting title. How to Be a Villain: Evil Laughs, Secret Lairs, Master Plans and More!!! (Note the three exclamation points. This is a truely evil book.)

So I guess what Evil Glenn is telling us is that he's finally getting around to perfecting his evilness. I guess we'd all better be on our toes from here on out!

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Weekend

Boy, sometimes I just don't understand these requests that Harvey makes. This week, he's curious about Evil Glenn's weekend activities. Specifically, Harvey asks: Besides boiling down corpses in turpentine, what else does Evil Glenn think makes for "an exciting weekend"?

What is this "weekend" thing that they're talking about? The closest I can figure is every 5 days or so, all the regular people I work with seem to disappear for a couple days, and some different ones show up. Is that this "weekend" of which everyone speaks?

Anyways, since I was stumped right from the get go on this assignment, I decided to go straight to the horse's mouth. So to speak. I'm not saying that Evil Glenn is a horse.... or am I?

So. I called Evil Glenn on his insta-phone. (He never answers if he thinks it's me, but I rewired an old toaster into my phone to give it a false caller-ID.)

Evil Glenn: Hello. Evil Glenn Industries. How may I torment you today?

GEBIV: Hi. I'm a reporter from the Free-range hobo hunting magazine, "Field and Screams." And I'd like to ask you a few questions for our readers.

Evil Glenn: Wait a second. You're not a reporter. You're that Jeep freak, GEBIV. Aren't you?

GEBIV: No I'm not!

Evil Glenn: Yes you are. Your name is right there in the transcript.

GEBIV: Darnit! I forgot to hook up my transcript falsifier.

Evil Glenn: Did you make your's from a can of crisco and a shop-vac motor?

GEBIV: No way. Those mark-4's are obsolete. I used a solar-powered calculator circuit board and two tobasco Slim Jims™. But I'm not calling to trade tech tips with you. I need you to answer a question for me. What are you doing to make your "weekend" exiting?

Evil Glenn: Well, it goes against everything I stand for, but I'm feeling a little magnanimous right now. Probably from the last batch of beagle shakes I had. Those little guys are so peppy!

GEBIV: Uh... that's more than I wanted to know, and unfortunately still not what I need. What are you doing for the "weekend?"

Evil Glenn: The same thing I do every weekend!

GEBIV: Try to take over the world?

Evil Glenn: No. Put on my favorite "Hello Kitty" things and dance around the house singing medleys of show-tunes. This weekend is "Hello Dolly" week!

GEBIV: ......

Evil Glenn: Anything else I can do for you?

GEBIV: Um... no, that's all right. I've just got to go scrub my brain with a brillo pad now.

There you have it. That's what Evil Glenn does for and exciting "weekend".

Now, could someone just explain to me what's so special about these "weekends"?

Filthy Lie: InstaGrandma

Evil Glenn has a grandmother?! And he enjoys spending time with her?

Ok, this is just too twisted for my weary mind. The only reasons I could think that Evil Glenn actually enjoys spending time with his grandma is that, being the Dark Lord of the Blogosphere, he's finally gotten past the "why don't you make something of your life" kind of nagging most guys get.

That and getting to play dress up with all the dolls his grandmother brings out of storage whenever he comes over...

Filthy Lie: Little Known Facts

Little Known Facts of Evil Glenn

Evil Glenn doesn't shave in the morning. One look at himself in the mirror is all it takes to scare his facial hair off.

Fully half of Japan's Hello Kitty merchandise is purchesed by Evil Glenn each year.

Evil Glenn opposes the rebuilding of New Orleans because it would cut down on the number of homeless too much.

Evil Glenn once defended a shark in a lawsuit. Pro Bono. As a matter of professional curtesy.

Evil Glenn performed an appendectomy on himself -with no anasthetic- simply to get rid of an organ that he felt wasn't "pulling it's weight."

Evil Glenn once drank an entire bottle of tobasco sauce, just to see if anything could make a lawyer cry.

Evil Glenn has no computer. He bloggs by a direct connection to his brain.

Evil Glenn can play "Inna Godda Davida" on the kazoo. There are usually no survivors.

Evil Glenn can find the "I" in "team".

Just like everyone else on St. Patrick's Day, Evil Glenn has a little Irish in him. In his case, it's from a batch of Irish Setter Shakes.

Evil Glenn can believe it's not butter.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's PR

Hmmm... Evil Glenn has a PR firm working for him now? That would explain the headlines I saw in the paper the other day.

Tennessee blogger helps cut down on Homeless numbers.

and

U.T. Proffessor works to reduce un-adopted puppies at local A.S.P.C.A.

and

True source of all evil now believed to reside somewhere between Kentucky and Alabama.

OK, maybe that last story wasn't quite as helpful to Evil Glenn as the PR firm wanted. But hey, look at what they've got to work with...

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Stuff

So, Harvey wants to know what kind of unusual things one would find if they searched Evil Glenn's house? (This is apparently a response to Evil Glenn's blasé attitude about someone allegedly finding ricin in Texas.)

Well, I didn't feel like searching all the way through Evil Glenn's house myself... there are some places I won't go if I don't have to. So I rented one of those huge boom cranes and hooked a corner of Evil Glenn's house with it. Then, tilting the house up on one side, I shook it to see what would fall out.

Here's what I found on the lawn when I was done:

* 429 empty Zima bottles.

* One Zima bottle with a human finger in it.

* 47,939,862 dog collars.

* What appeared to be a full china set (including the gravy boat) with every piece broken. (I may have shaken the house a little too hard...)

* 5,376 empty perscription bottles for Via-gra. (Don't want the spam bots to get me...)

* The front half of a bycicle

* The floor mats from a 1959 Studebaker

* 4 zippo lighters

* 9 kilos of premium grade pot

* Oh, I meant a 9 piece set of premium cooking pots. (Sorry.)

* 14 baseball bats with blood on them.

* 2 broken flashlights.

* 18 Television Remotes, without batteries.

* One slightly battered wide screen... er, a small black and white TV.

* And waaaaaaaaaay too many Hello Kitty things.

Now I need to go see if any of those remotes go to this new Big Screen TV I just got...

Filthy Lie: Mythbusters

I was flipping through the channels one sleepless night, and ran across a special edition of Mythbusters. As best as I can remember it, this is how it ran.

Adam: Hi. I'm Adam Savage!

Jamie: And I'm Jamie Hyneman.

Adam and Jamie, together: And we're the Mythbusters!

Adam: So Hyneman, what myths are we going to be busting today?

Jamie: It looks like we'll be busting some Internet myths. First is the myth that posting pictures of penguins will give you a massive amount of traffic.

Adam: I've heard of that one. Isn't that what they call an "Insta-lanche?"

Jamie: Yes. I believe that's what they call it.

(The camera pans back and shows that they are standing next to a large internet server. Adam sits down at a desk with a laptop.)

Adam: OK. So we've got this website full of penguins frolicing and playing, all ready to go. What we're going to do, is publish the website with this server here. And then we'll check back in a day or two and see how much traffic we've managed to get.

Jamie: As a control, earlier this week I set up a website with pictures of ducks and tracked the traffic. (He shows a chart with a shallow slope indicating the site's traffic.) Now if the myth is right, the chart for the penguin site should have a much steeper slope.

Adam: I'm thinking that it'll take something with at least 30 or 40 percent greater traffic for us to even see a difference.

Jamie: Indeed. And remember, this chart is for over a week's worth of hits. So we probably won't have measurable results for at least that long.

Adam: Here goes! (He clicks [Publish] on the website) Our penguin site is now online. In a week or so, we should be able to see-

*DING*

Adam: Wow! We've already got a hit. That was quick. How long did it take your Duck website to get it's first hit?

Jamie: I think it was just under 24 hours. But right after that it-

*DING* *DING* *DING*

Jamie: I think that-

*DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* ...

Adam: (Shouting over the dinging) It looks like this myth may be plausable!

(Suddenly, sparks start shooting out of the server tower. Adam grabs the laptop and runs for cover as Jamie snatches up a fire-extigusher and sprays it on the server tower.)

Jamie: That was unexpected. (His mustache twitches in amazement.)

Adam: Look at this! (He points at the laptop's monitor) The site spiked at over a million hits! In less than a minute!

Jamie: And every one of them from some guy in Tennessee.

Adam: I think that confirms it. Posting pictures of penguins on the internet will get you an Insta-lanche of site hits. Just make sure that your server is up to handling the traffic.

(Then the scene cuts to a music montage of Kari and Tori in the kitchen setting up a row of blenders.)

Voice Over Announcer: When we come back from the break. Kary and Tory will be testing the myth of weather or not Puppy smoothies provide more energy than traditional protien shakes.

At that point I changed the channel. And then just to be extra sure, turned off the TV, dropped it out the window and flushed the remote down the toilet. That was one Mythbusters episode I didn't want to see any more of.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Outtakes

Hmmm... It seems that Evil Glenn did an interview on CNN and forgot to notify the real press. So of course I missed it. Which is just as well I suppose. Rumor is that the whole thing was pretty dull and boring.

Apparently CNN edited out some of the more ...interesting bits.

But I was able - at great risk of life, limb and sanity - to obtain some transcripts of the deleted parts of the interview.

Evil Glenn: ... and this, coupled with the theory I spoke of earlier - in conjunction with the tonsisity of the frangulated confabulation - is why I feel that you owe me a pastrami sandwich. And if you don't get it right now, I'm going to hold my breath until you do!

Evil Glenn: (when asked about the recent Palestinian elections) That's a good question. And I'd like to respond this way. (Turns and moons interviewer, showing his Hello Kitty underwear.)

Evil Glenn: But blending the puppies gives it a nice sticky feeling. (laughing) No, seriously. The best way to get the fur out of your teeth is to use the hair of a freshly murdered hobo as dental floss.

Evil Glenn : (standing in front of a map of Europe) And we can see here, by the patterns of the frequencies of the so called "spontaneous" demonstrations, that... what? My barn door's open? I don't understand? "Close the screen door"? What doors are you talking about? And who's this "Mr. Johnson" you keep saying to page? Listen! Will you please stop this childishness! I don't know what you're talking about and I won't stand here and... Oh. (turns and zips up fly) Um... can we start over?

To tell the truth, I'm really glad that I didn't have to see that last one. Just reading the transcript was bad enough. Excuse me, I have to go scrub my brain out now... with lye.

Fithy Lie: Evil Glenn's Fatwa

What would you have to do to make Evil Glenn issue a fatwa against you?

Gee, I don't know. If none of the stuff we've done so far has angered Evil Glenn enough to make him issue a fatwa against us, I don't know what will.

The only thing that I could think of that would be irritating enough to someone - to the point of making them want to kill me- would be to give them this little earworm. Or maybe this one.

Mwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Filthy Lie: Evil Genn and Google

Wow. It looks like Google will team up with anyone. First, they gave up their morality and join up with the ChiComms. Now word is that they are teaming up with Evil Glenn!

From what I was able to find out with the absolute minimum of effort, the first Evil Glenn and Google joint venture is tenatively called Doggle.com. It'll be a search engine that should help you choose the right breed and correct power settings on your blender for any desired puppy shake.

There are also rumors of an Evil Glenn inspired Insta-Google.com. When request information, the site doesn't actually go out and search the internet. Instead, it'll give you a bunch of links to searches done on other search-engines. The links will be ranked on a three tier scale. With Hmm... being somewhat close to your search criteria, Heh being very close to your search criteria, and Indeed being exactly what you are looking for.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Spaceship

Harvey spied an otherwise inconspicuous post by Evil Glenn noting the launch of the New Horizons spacecraft. Which of course led Harvey to believe that Evil Glenn was planning on hijacking the NASA project. But Harv's still a little confused as to WHY Evil Glenn would want to hijack the New Horizons Spacecraft.

Allow me to explain with some-

Incredibly Inane Information about the New Horizons Spacecraft:

* The New Horizons mission is to the planet Pluto. Pluto is the name of Mickey Mouse's dog.

* The planet Pluto was named the year before the dog Pluto.

* The spacecraft is also powered by a plutonium reactor.

* The spacecraft will take 9 years to get to Pluto. Evil Glenn hasn't showered in 9 years.

* The spacecraft will get a gravity boost from the planet Jupiter. Evil Glenn once 'boosted' a Saturn sedan.

* The launch of New Horizons was broadcast live on the internet. Everything Evil Glenn does is put on the internet.

* The spacecraft New Horizons is an unmanned vehicle. Evil Glenn was 'unmanned' in a painful blender accident.

* New Horizons will be exporing the coldest reaches of our solar system. Evil Glenn has the coldest heart known to mankind.

* The rocket was the fastest ever launched from the Earth. Evil Glenn is the fastest poster in the blogosphere.

Are all of these coincidences? I think not!

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's DNA

As reported recently, Evil Glenn managed to beat a hobo murder charge in spite of what appeared to be overwhelming DNA evidence they had against him. In the interest of nosey people everywhere, and at The Alliance's request, I managed to get a portion of Evil Glenn's DNA sample from the trial.

What it said about Evil Glenn was astounding!

Apparently, at least according to the DNA sample from the trial, Evil Glenn is a short, Hispanic woman!

Well that explained a lot about the verdict....

But I wasn't satisfied with just that. So I pulled a play from one of the Government's top-secret spy programs being used on us. I mailed Evil Glenn a fake Publisher's Clearing House entry. And when he sent it back to me, I was able to get a genuine blood sample from the paper-cut everyone always gets when they try to stuff the return envelope. (That's all the Publisher's Clearing House really is; just a way for the Government to get samples of everyone's DNA!)

I dropped off the new sample of DNA at my local CSI lab and in about an hour, had a full analysis of Evil Glenn's DNA. And boy, did the analysis tell me a lot.

According to the comprehensive DNA analysis done by the CSI lab:

* Evil Glenn is one quarter Cherokee, one quarter Choctaw, one quarter Irish and one quarter German.

* He's also half French, but that part surrendered to the others a long time ago.

* He's not a real red-head.

* He's distantly related to Vlad the Impaler, Ghengis Khan, and Jack the Ripper.... or he was all three. The jury's still out on that one.

* He's allergic to cat hair.

* He's not allergic to peanuts. (There goes one of the Alliance's plans for getting rid of him.)

* He likes to bowl. And has a lifetime average of 204.

* His shoes are too tight. Oh wait, never mind, it's his heart that's three sizes too small.

* He wore braces until he was 15.

* He likes the color yellow.

* He excels at English, but did poorly on the math portion of the SATs.

* He wasn't potty trained untill he was 12.

* He has a large collection of stuffed animals.

* And that's not counting the penguins.

* He once ate a whole turkey by himself on Thanksgiving.

And last, but not least...

* Evil Glenn thinks that Star Trek: The Original Series, was mych better than Star Trek: The Next Generation.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Magazine

It's become obvious, at least to The Alliance, that Evil Glenn is not content with just taking over the Blogosphere. There have been many signs of this, but the most recent one was the rumor that Evil Glenn is now publishing a magazine.

But the rumor wasn't any more specific than that, so I had to do a little more digging...

As a precaution against contamination, I didn't use my own new computer, but called my blogless brother in to hack into Evil Glenn's files. Using his new laptop, of course. Besides, he's a lot better at that sort of thing than I am...

Anyhow, after a few minutes of furious tapping of keys, he sat back and said that he was giving up. He hadn't been able to find anything that he could see as evil. When I asked him if he found anything else, all he said that he could find was a lot of stuff about Dog Fancy.

It looked innocent enough on the surface. However, when I had him check the files a little more closely, I saw the true evil showing through. The next issue had nothing about how to take care of your dogs; but instead had a six page expose about marinades, and side dishes. Not to mention the centerfold of the new line of sexy blenders...

I told my brother to log off, but it was too late. His brand new laptop started shaking and smoke began to pour out of the sides.

Fortunately, I was able to duck behind something before it exploded.

My brother should be getting the bandages removed in a couple of days...

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn, the Arch-Villain

I slipped through the open door. So far, my entry into the fortress had been completely undiscovered. And the mission was going to be a cake-walk. Or so I thought.

Suddenly, a battery of spot-lights sparked to life. I was discovered! I turned to dive back into the door I had just emerged from and was met by a large goon. Another sprang up from a concealed trap door as two more dropped down from cables, completely surrounding me.

I quickly switched mental gears from 'flight' to 'fight' and attacked the closest goon. I managed to knock him out and had the next in a headlock, using him as a shield from the others, when a voice rang out from the gloom surrounding the spot lit section.

"Enough!"

I knew that voice! And its owner wasn't supposed to be anywhere near there.

"Gentlemen, you may leave us. And take your unconscious friend with you." the voice said to the goons I was fighting. I didn't release the headlock on the one I was using as shield, however. So the goons dragged only the one on the ground with them.

"Ah, Agent GEBIV. As resourceful as ever I see." Evil Glenn said, as he stepped into the light, flanked by a couple of his Insta-Henchmen. (The real tough ones, not like the rent-a-goons I had been fighting so far. And each carrying sub-machine gun.) "Here you are trapped out in plain sight and you still manage to find some semblance of cover. Heh."

"What's so funny about that?" I asked. "And what are you doing here? The message said that you were down in Antarctica for the weekend..." I shuddered at the unbidden mental image that popped into my mind's eye.

"Silly boy," he said. "The message wasn't from your precious Alliance, I sent it. It was all a trap."

"A trap? Why do you want to trap me?" I asked, more than a little nervously.

"Why to kill you of course." He replied. "Which brings us back to your first question."

"Huh?" Even with the sudden rush of adrenalin, I wasn't completely able to follow him.

"Your question of what was so funny. The answer is; what makes you think I value that goon you're hiding behind enough to prevent me from shooting you?"

"Um..... because he's... not a hobo?" I was fishing, and I knew it. And what was worse, he knew it too.

"Sorry," he replied, "not good enough." Then, to the Insta-Henchmen, and with a German accent, "Shoot them. Shoot them both."

With a quick kung-fu move, I flipped the goon I was holding into one of the Insta-Henchmen, knocking him out. Then, a nifty little move with my tactical yo-yo snagged the gun out of the other Insta-Henchman's hand. For good measure, I snapped the yo-yo back at him twice more, once to the stomach - doubling him over, and then a pop to his head rendering him insensate.

Now, I had the gun and was calling the shots. "So, Evil Glenn," I gloated. "How do you like this little turn of events?"

He looked a little startled, for just a second. "Well," he said, "I think that..." and then he reached into his pocket and started to pull out his own gun. What looked like a gold-plated luger... But I only had time to glance at it before I squeezed the trigger on the gun in my own hands, putting a round directly into Evil Glenn's heart.

He grunted once, and dropped the pistol he was holding. But then, to my surprise, straightened back up and smiled. "Wha.... I.... but.... you.... in the heart." I gibbered.

"Foolish boy." He grinned at me. "Perhaps you've heard of the famous Dr. No? The most notorious villain to suffer from dextrocardia."

"I know what that is!" I exclaimed. "That's when your heart is on the right side of your body instead of the left."

"Very good. You're not as stupid as you look."

"That's what I keep telling people." I said as I shot him again, this time in the right side of his chest. But again, to my surprise, he didn't die.

"Stop doing that!" Evil Glenn scolded. "You're ruining my shirt! What I was trying to tell you was that I suffer from something similar to dextrocardia. I have anacardia."

"Doesn't that mean you don't have a heart?" I asked.

"Pshaw." (Yes, he really said pshaw!) "I have the heart of a young man ...I keep it in a jar around here somewhere..."

Around this point, I was getting a little tired of the whole conversation, so I interrupted his little biology lesson. "Sorry," I said, "but I have to be going." And with that, I emptied the magazine of the machine gun into Evil Glenn's groin.

"AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" he screamed. "I'll get you for that, Harvey!"

"That's GEBIV!" I corrected as I ran off into the night.

Filthy Lie: Evil New Year's Eve

Harv wants to know, what will Evil Glenn be doing to celebrate New Year's this year? I presume this is so he can foil Evil Glenn's plans. Or at least know enough to hide.

I asked my bloggless brother to hack into Evil Glenn's computer to get his evil plans. Unfortunately, Evil Glenn hasn't actually decided what he is going to be doing yet. But we were able to get his notes, listing his possible ideas.

Memo to self: What to do New Year's Eve

• Pick lint out of navel? - Could be fun for the whole family
• File law suits? - Could be hard finding anyone at court. Not a religious holiday, so most lawyers observe it.
• Go to a hockey game? - Do they play hockey in Tennessee?
• Eat chinese take out and watch Marx Brothers movies? - Nah, that sounds like something GEBIV would do.
• Play the accordion all night? - Well, we don't want to be too evil...
• Watch sand fall? - ooooh.... sand.....
• Work on my plans for world domination? - But then it might feel like a work night.
• Go leprechaun hunting? - I'll get those Lucky Charms one of these days.
• Read a good book? - But definitely not "The Good Book." I am a lawyer after all.
• Drink myself silly and make prank phone calls? - Gotta check to see if I've got any minutes left on the cell phone...

Well, whatever Evil Glenn decides to do, you can be sure that it will be eeeeeeevvvviiiiilllll!

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Christmas

So, what's Evil Glenn doing for Christmas this year?

Same as every year, sitting around with his family beneath a penguin festooned tree, singing his favorite, evil Christmas Carols.

Like:

• Randolf the Red Nosed Hobo


• The Blending Song (Manchester Terriers Spinning in and Open Blender)


• Deck the Hoboes (With Bats and Hammers)


• The Hobo Got Run Over By My Buick


• Jingle Bell Rock

Finally, after the Inst-Children are put to bed, Evil Glenn will set himself down in his easy chair next to the fireplace, and wait with baseball bat in hand for Santa. He's still a little annoyed about his present from when he was ten years old. Apparently that was the year he made his first puppy shake, so instead of the puppies he asked for, Santa gave Evil Glenn a box of banana slugs. Evil Glenn has waited by the fireplace every year since.

Ah, Holiday traditions...

They're Finally Getting Married!

The lovely SarahK and the witty (and heavily armed) Frank J. are finally getting married this weekend in Texas. I'm sure that you can find all sorts of information and pictures over at Mountaneer Musings or IMAO. Their respective blogs.

But since this is a pair of bloggers (who met as a result of Frank J.'s T-shirt Babe contest) getting married, we know that it can't be happening without Evil Glenn being involved somehow.

So the question is:

What will Evil Glenn be doing at Frank and Sarah's wedding.

The same thing he does at every wedding he crashes - hitting the bars.

First the salad bar, then the shrimp bar, then the open bar ...then, probably that little bar that you rest your foot on, with his nose.

You know, for a lawyer he sure has a hard time passing a bar.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn and the Airport

Last week, Harvey put forth that Evil Glenn had a hand in causing a mob to attack the New York desk at Washington National Airport. Evil Glenn admits to some connection with his comment of:

I remember seeing the New York Air desk at Washington National literally overrun by a mob once. They deserved it, too.

But Harvey wanted to know a few more details. After a week of investigations, all I was able to come up with was a witness saying that they saw Evil Glenn putting up a billboard outside the airport.

It said:

FREE XBOX 360 WITH EVERY FLIGHT TO NEW YORK

Yeah, that would do it...

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Law

Murphy's Law. Put simply, Murphy's Law states that whatever can go wrong, will. It has many corollaries, such as The Buttered Toast Corollary (the buttered side always hits the floor), The White Shirt Corollary (anything spilled will always hit the person wearing white), and The Cat Corollary (a cat will always jump into the lap of the allergic guest) to name a few. And now, we can add The Evil Glenn Corollary - namely, anything Evil Glenn does will impact negatively on my life.

For example, Evil Glenn finally got TiVo. And now there's nothing good on TV to watch. Ever.

Then, he bought himself an Xbox. And now the Xbox 360 comes out and not as many of the cool games are being put on the original Xbox platform. Which is the only one I can afford.

Last week, he sold his old set of snowshoes. So I ended up with two feet of snow falling over Thanksgiving week.

I just hope he doesn't get a set of skis before Christmas. Or else it'll be a blue green Christmas for me...

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's light blogging

Boy, this was a silly and easy question to answer:

What has Evil Glenn been doing at his computer instead of editing his book or blogging?

Playing DOOM³, what else is there?

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Class Action Lawsuit

Just great.

I got a letter yesterday informing me that I'm the subject of a class action lawsuit.

Basically, when you boil out all the legalese and lawyer double talk, it looks like I'm being sued for discrimination. More specifically, I've discriminated against everyone that I've never given all of my money and posessions to. Which amounts to everyone in the whole world, minus one (me). They want to garnishee my wages for about the next 50 million years!

Of course the lawyer is willing to settle out of court on this one. At the bottom of the lawsuit, was this note, written in pencil:

Of course, all of this can go away and not trouble you any more, if you just pay everyone one dollar, each. Into an account that I'll manage until we can see to proper disbursement, of course.

- Glenn Reynolds

So. Um. Does anyone have approximately $6.5 billion I could borrow?

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn, the Musical

The invitation just showed up on my doorstep one day. It didn't come with the mail, and I never saw who delivered it. One minute, nothing; the next, a big envelope.

I was a little hesitant to open it. I was afraid that it might be another Mission: Implausible! from Harvey. I was wrong. It was worse.

It was an invitation to attend the premier of the new Broadway Musical "Glenn And The Amazing 16-bit Color Laptop." Actually, it was less of an invitation and more of a threat... the last line read, "I know where you live and have a rocket launcher."

So, since I'm pretty sure that my Homeowner's Insurance doesn't cover Evil-Blogger RPG damage, I couldn't resist his offer.

Apparently, my recent foray into the world of reviews was a mistake. Evil Glenn must have figured that if I could say halfway nice things about DOOM, then I'd write good stuff about anything. What follows is the account of the horrors that I went through that night.

The invitation said to get there early, as there was limited seating available. And it looked like every reviewer and critic in the state had received the same invitation I did. Several were visibly twitching every time they heard any loud noise. And one poor guy actually wet himself when a car backfired on the street outside.

Fortunately, I have a congenital defect which forces me to get everywhere at least 15 minutes before I have to. So I had no problem finding a seat. Well, actually the problem was that I found too good a seat. I was able to see and hear everything.

When I first walked into the theater, I heard what sounded like 20 or so cats being tortured. My first thought was that I was hearing Evil Glenn's truly atrocious pit orchestra tuning up. But as I was ushered down to the Reviewer's Box, I was forced to revise that thought. It was the pit orchestra, but they were actually torturing cats! They had them stretched out over all sorts of frames and tables, and with the help of some mallets, were using them as instruments. Any hope that I still had upon arriving at the theater was instantly crushed. I then knew that this was going to be far worse than I had feared.

This is what I saw.

After what seems like an eternity of cat-screeching prelude, the curtain finally goes up. On stage, is a slightly youngish looking Evil Glenn (he has on one of those propeller beanies and is wearing what looks like those short-pants boys were forced to wear back in the 30's) sitting at a computer clicking a mouse. A projection screen descends from above, and we see that "Little" Glenn is just finishing his registtration of the domain name for Instapundit. With a little flourish, he hits the Enter key and brakes into song.

Happy Insta-day

"Little" Glenn: It's a happy, happy, happy, Insta-day.
In a happy, happy, happy, Insta-way!
I'm gonna start a bloggin',
And empty out my noggin'
On this website every day!

A choir of what looked like midgets in cherub costumes drops down from the rafters and dangling on wires like a bunch of Christmas ornaments, joins the singing.

Cherubs: It's a happy, happy, happy, Insta-day.
In a happy, happy, happy, Insta-way!
He's gonna start a bloggin',
And empty out his noggin'
On this website every day!

Fortunately, after about six or seven verses of this, the song finally ends.

The next scene has a rather dejected looking "Little" Glenn sitting at his computer despondently poking the keyboard with one finger. The intro to the next song starts, and I am surprised to find the cat screeches sound familiar! I look down at the program and see that I was right, the music had been actually written by Queen.

Some Stories to Blog (Sung to "Somebody to Love" by Queen)

"Little" Glenn: Can anybody,
find meeee.
Some stories,
To,
Blog.

I get up every morning and type a little,
Before I can barely see.
Take a look at the monitor,
And cry,
"What am I doing to me?"
I spend all of my life typing,
And just don't like what I read.

Oh, somebody.
Somebody.
Can anybody find me,
Some stories to blog?

I type hard,
Every day of my life.
I type my fingers to the bone.
At the end of the day,
I don't like what I've done.
I've got to get out of this writer's block,
I've got to find some more links.

Oh, somebody.
Somebody.
Can anybody find me,
Some stories to blog?

At this point, Satan shows up. And in return for "Little" Glenn's worship, Satan promises to show him how to blog faster and more often than ever before. And to sweeten the deal, he also promises to make "Little" Glenn the Dark Blog-lord of the Blogosphere.

"Little" Glenn agrees. A large puff of smoke, and "Little" Glenn is gone. Now, standing before us is EVIL GLENN.

Evil Glenn: Heh!

Satan: Indeed.

And so ends the first act.

The curtain comes up for the second act, and we see Frank J.! Actually, it's just some skinny kid, but he's wearing a "Nuke the Moon" t-shirt and wielding a katana. So we know who it is. He's in the process of declaring blog-war on Evil Glenn, and he breaks into song.

To Fight The Unbeatable Blog (Sung to "To Dream the Impossible Dream" from The Man of La Mancha)

"Frank J.": To fight the unbeatable blog,
To contend with an unbeatable foe.
To strive for impossible numbers,
To blog what the sane dare not know!

This is my blog!
This is my war.
I'll beat that puppy blender,
I know it is so.

I'll follow my dream,
And when the war's won...

With that, Evil Glenn comes running onto the stage and punches "Frank J." in the mouth. "Frank J." crawls off the stage, whimpering as Evil Glenn stands there and gloats.

Finally, after several forgettable hours, we come to the last scene of the show. Evil Glenn stands on a dais overlooking rows of people furiously typing on keyboards below him. You can see the cables from all the keyboards run to one computer, the display of which is on the projection screen. Almost faster than you can read, print is flowing past. You can just make out that they are all posts on Instapundit, being typed almost faster than humanly possible.

Cracking the whip he holds in his hand, Evil Glenn rains down commands to his frantically typing minions.

Evil Glenn: Heh!

Minions: Heh.

Evil Glenn: Indeed!

Minions: Indeed.

And then Evil Glenn breaks into song.

My Way (Sung just like Frank Sinatra)

Evil Glenn: And now, the end is near,
And I must deal a final hurtin'.
You know, that if I don't,
There just might be some desertin'.

I rule the world,
Yes that is true.
And control the information super-highway.

But yes much more than this,
I made them do it MY WAY!

Then, he catches a top-hat and cane that come sailing out to him. As he starts tap dancing a complicated, jerky dance involving twirling his cane while whipping his minions below him, they break out into song.

Happy Insta-Day(Reprise)

Minions: It's a happy, happy, happy, Insta-day. (*Ouch* *Ouch* *Ouch*)
In a happy, happy, happy, Insta-way! (*Ouch* *Ouch* *Ouch*)
He's gonna keep a bloggin',
While hoboes he's a floggin'
On this website every day!

This goes on for almost half an hour, with each verse key changing to the next higher one. Finally, as the song reaches up into the realm where only dogs can hear, I black out...

And then, some unknown time later, I awoke back at my house. The echoes of the music were still ringing in my ears, but at least they were just echoes.

Filthy Lie: Who's a Nazi?

Recently, someone made the observation that The Alliance logo is somewhat Nazi-like.

There is a perfectly good explanation for this similarity in appearence. Unfortunately, I don't know what it is.

The nearest I can tell is, since The Alliance is dedicated to opposing a Communist spy who likes to dance the robot; we must be fascists. And since we're organized fascists, we must be Nazis. After all, that's what anyone who opposes all the Socialist programs the Liberal Democrats are always promoting is called.

So, remember if you don't sit there and drink the Liberal's kool-aid, that makes you a fascist and a Nazi. At least according to their slightly biased point of view. Of course, they consider anyone to the right of Castro to be an extremist wacko...

Anyways-

All hail Frank J.!

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Alien

Hmm. This is a good question: Why is there an alien at Evil Glenn's house? (As shown by Chris Muir's cartoon Day-by-Day)

Now I could take the easy route and say that this is a very clever reference to the classic Sci-Fi movie, The Day the Earth Stood Still. But that would also imply that Evil Glenn is some sort of savior figure... and I'm not willing to go there.

What Chris Muir has unintentionally discovered is in fact the latest in home security devices as created by Evil Glenn Industries. It is the Insta-bot™! A high-tech personal guard made from the finest materials a blogging income can buy. That's right - paper maché.

And until the first rainfall happens, the Insta-bot™ will stand guard, protecting Evil Glenn from all media investigators looking into his alleged past indiscretions concerning hoboes, penguins and puppies.

So be careful, Evil Glenn's got some heavy duty defenses right now! But they're the only things standing between him and the ever vigilant Mainstream Media...

(This has been a Filthy Lie.)

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Voices

So, Harv want's to know what the voices in Evil Glenn's head are telling him.

Well, I asked the voices in my head if they had any ideas. Once they were done with the usual "Kill! Maim! Rend! Destroy!" they settled down a little.

Voices: So, what do you want?

GEBIV: Do you guys know the voices that are in Evil Glenn's head?

Voices: Oh those guys? Sure. We're in the same bowling league.

GEBIV: You bowl?

Voices: What? Aren't we entitled to a life even if you don't have one? We go on Thursdays, in case you didn't notice.

GEBIV: You know, I thought Thurdays were pretty quiet.

Voices: Yeah. Now, what did you want to know?

GEBIV: Evil Glenn's voices, what do they tell him?

Voices: Oh, besides the usuall -Kill! Maim! Destroy!- stuff?

GEBIV: Yes, besides all that.

Voices: Not too much else, except that one really weird one. It goes on and on about penguins all day. Sometimes, it even interferes with the bowling league. But at least it drowns out those guys from Howard Dean's head.

GEBIV: .... OK, you know what, I don't want to know. So I'm not going to ask.

Voices: Well, have it your way. Kill! Maim! Destr-

So, that's what I was able to get. Not too surprising really. You know those voices, they're pretty much all the same. At least that's what they keep telling me...

Fithly Lie: Evil Glenn's Cruise Line

Well, I guess the impending Wisconsin winter (I belive it begins the day after Columbus Day) is weighing heavily on Harvey, because he seems to be actually contemplating a cruise on Evil Glenn's newest acquisition, Princess Cruise Lines.

I don't have any personal information on what happens on a cruise, (I haven't had a vacation in several years) but I have heard some rumors on what to expect from Captain Glenn.

First of all, when they say it's a southern cruise, they mean SOUTHERN. As in South Pole. That's right, the cruise line is being entirely converted into penguin sighting trips.

Or should I say, penguin spying trips. About half of the current state-rooms on the cruise ships are being re-fitted to contain massive volumes of high-speed video cameras with extremely powerful telephoto lenses. The on board movie theaters will be playing the newly acquired footage on a continual basis.

The only other thing I heard about the reconfigured cruise line (as if the penguins weren't bad enough) is that whatever you do, you don't want to tell Captain Glenn that you are retired. As far as he's concerned, retirement is just a bad haircut away from being a hobo. And even though he usually leaves his hobo-whacking bat at home, those shuffleboard sticks make a pretty good substitute.

Filthy Lie: Female Glenn

Harvey posed a real twisted question this week. How would Instapundit be different if Evil Glenn were a woman?

What got me was that I thought that Evil Glenn already had a female persona. Isn't he just Martha Stewart in drag? Just look at it. Both of them are always putting things in blenders. They're never seen together. And as far as I can tell, no one can prove that Martha Stewart has never killed a hobo.

It's iron-clad proof for me.

That would explain why Instapundit has always had somewhat of a feminine touch to me.

Filthy Lie: The final post.

It was an average morning, and I was checking my e-mail while eating a bowl of grape-nuts. And as I sat there and crunched, the messages downloaded and scrolled up my screen.

Suddenly, one of them caught my attention! It was from myself, but instead of a transmitted date, there was a bunch of question marks.

I scanned it for viruses and it came up clean. Intrigued, I opened it.

I couldn't believe what it was. It was Evil Glenn's very last post!

The explanation that I gave myself was that after Evil Glenn quit blogging forever, I had cut and pasted it to send to myself. That way, if google ever lost the cache of Instapundit, the final post wouldn't be lost forever.

And here it is.

IT IS OVER. I can no longer keep up with the pressure of running this blog. I shall now devote all of my time and energy to my true first love.

Ballet.

Oh, the music, the choreography, the tight pants, the beautiful sets, the tight pants... But I digress.

So this will be the last post here at Instapundit.com forever. Ah, there's the mail. And it looks like my leotards are finally here. So long.

Indeed.

And there you have it, now we know how Instapundit will end. Too bad the e-mail was a little garbled, and the date didn't come through. So we don't know when it'll happen... but it will happen.

Filthy Lie: About Evil Glenn

Our great enemy, Evil Glenn, at his evil site, does reveal a little information about himself. But for some reason, it just doesn't look complete...

After a little bit of research, I found that there were quite a few things missing from Evil Glenn's About Me page. Aside from the obvious things about his penchant for dancing the Robot at Communist rallies while sipping puppy shakes and beating hoboes, there was a lot missing.

For example:

* Evil Glenn has been voted Homecoming Queen three times running for the University of Tennessee.

* In third grade, Evil Glenn coined the phrase "Do you want fries with that?"

* On alternating Thursdays at 9AM, Evil Glenn can always be found figure skating at the local hockey arena. Even when there's no ice.

* Evil Glenn once burped out the entire alphabet backwards, while standing on his head and playing the accordion with his feet. There were no survivors among the witnesses.

* Unlike most residents of Tennessee, who have none of their teeth left, Evil Glenn still has almost half.

* Although his title of Dark Lord of the Blogosphere is still unofficial, he plans on being elected President of the Blogosphere once he can figure out how the DUers keep rigging all the internet voting.

* Evil Glenn is a big fan of Michael Moore, and hopes to beat him over the head with a large pipe someday. Unless Mr. Moore stops looking like a hobo; in which case Evil Glenn will probably just shake his hand.

* Evil Glenn is afraid of the color mauve.

* Instapundit is actually a group blog. But only people who know the 16-digit randomly generated password for each hour can post.

* Evil Glenn once beat Aquaman in an arm-wrestling contest. Unfortunately, he lost the rematch since it was held at the bottom of Lake Michigan.

There are many more omissions, but nothing that I can print here. This is a family oriented blog after all.

Filthy Lie: International Instapundit

Instapundit.

It's a word that strikes terror in the hearts of bloggers here in America. The Evil Dark Lord of the Blogosphere and his website are either the bane or unattainable goal of nearly everyone.

But the question today is, What does "Instapundit" mean in other languages?

Well, leaving out the plethora of languages in which Instapundit is now a synonym for "Puppyblender" we still get some rather interesting definitions....

In Chinese, it means "Avatar of the Glorious Leader"

In Spanish (Argentina dialect), it means "Procurer of Penguins"

In Finnish, it means "Where did I park the Volvo?"

In the language of the Innuit (Eskimos), it means "That yellow snow behind the igloo."

In Korean, it means... oh wait, there's that "Puppyblender" again. But in Korean, it's a compliment.

In French, it means "Glorious dancer of The Robot"

And in Arabic, it now means "The South end of a North bound camel."

Let me check the rest of them again.... yep, it pretty much means Puppyblender in every other language.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Blogad

Harvey's made a request that could actually help Glenn Reynolds! Since Glenn dropped off the top of the Ecosystem, he's been contemlpating using blogads to regain his linkage.

Harvey want's us to come up with an idea or two of what kind of blogad Evil Glenn might use.

The most effective one that I can come up with is this:

Click Here for FREE GAS!!!!!!!!!!!!

INSTAPUNDIT.COM

(This site contains more hot air than any other.)

Yeah, that'll probably get him some hits.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Summer Camp

Last week, I got some spam in my e-mail for a fun new Summer Camp. Since I've got nothing better to post today, I thought I'd share it with you.

Come to the best camp in the world!

Come to Camp INSTACAMP!

Camp INSTACAMP caters to the young, impressionable bloggers looking for new skills; or who are trying to hone their existing talents. We offer many classes on internet posting, as well as a well rounded curriculum designed to sharpen both the mind and body of the blogger. Camp INSTACAMP has everything that a young blogger could ask for.

* Learn how to make multiple posts an hour using our handy-dandy comment system.

* Enjoy our high-energy, high-protein cuisine.

* Build your upper body strength with our patented Hobo-Flex exercise system.

* We now offer dance classes for the rythmically impaired.

* Alternative religions encouraged.

Camp INSTACAMP is filling up fast! So get your registration in today!

The one-week fee for Camp INSTACAMP is 2 puppies per person. For the two-week course, the fee is 3 puppies, or one German Shepherd. Or, enroll the whole family for the low-low price of one Saint Bernard!

(All registrants give up all claims to their souls from the date of signing and for perpetuity. If your soul is already the property of Evil Glenn or any of his subsidiaries, this provision may be waved upon completion of the penguin procurement form, P-27. All campers must also be in good standing with the Evil Glenn, Blogspere Overlord fan club.)

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Biography

Well, rumor has it that Evil Glenn is coming out with his very own autobiography. But that's all that the rumors are saying. No title, or ideas about the content are available yet.

However, my cracked research staff (an insomniac, a five-year old hyped up on M&Ms and a pink plastic flamingo) managed to find out a little more for us.

First thing they found was the proposed title:

It Takes A Blender

(Or: How I Learned to Use the Waring and Love My Dog

Then they found some of the reviews:

Revolting! - The New York Times

Nauseating! - The Washington Post

Delicious! - The Korea Herald

And finally, they found an excerpt from the book itself:

It was my tenth birthday, and I finally got the puppy that I always wanted. My mother warned me that I was responsible for it. But I believe that secretly, she was happy that I finally had someone to play with.

Later that evening, we had plans to go to the zoo where they were opening up the new penguin exhibit. I was just a little worried that the big blender convention in town was going to make things too crowded. But mother said that the only worry we would have is if the town's hoboes were forced out of the park where they normally stayed. Then they sometimes would hang out at the zoo...

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn and NASA

Cape Canaveral, FL - Yesterday, rumors of a shake up of the top officials at NASA were confirmed with the appointment of Evil Glenn Reynolds as the new head of Space Flight Operations. In a press briefing earlier, he promised to make future missions as safe as possible for all astronauts. Or, failing that, entirely staff the space flights with homeless people. "After all," he was quoted as saying, "who'd miss them?"

He also announced plans for an extensive series of orbital mapping missions over the South Pole. He planned to use newly designed cameras that would, as he put it, "...show you details down to the finest penguin feather."

In another sweeping move, he stated that he would be personally taking over all the dietary planning for future flights. This announcement was followed by a sample of the energy smoothies he intends on using which were given out to the entire press corps. Said one reporter, "It was barking good!"

Most were skeptical of his plans to launch several dozen missions per day, however. His logic of -

"If I can post a couple of hundred times during lunch, why can't we launch a few dozen rockets each day? It's not like you have to do more than count backwards from 10. Heck that's easier to do than typing 'Indeed'! You don't even have to link to anything."

Filthy Lie: Buying Instapundit

It was inconceivable! Evil Glenn actually put a price on his blog. Admittedly, it's a rather high price, but to assign a monetary value to such a lifelong passion... well, I just can't believe it.

But then, the question comes up: Who will buy Instapundit?

Several choices immediately leap to mind.

The Huffington Post has the money, and could only benefit from either the absorption, or destruction of Instapundit. But they may not want to have more than the token conservative on their staff that they already have.

The Chinese could buy it, and I'm sure the Evil Glenn, the Mao worshiper, would gladly sell to them. But I don't think there is are any Chinese characters for Hmm, Indeed, or Heh!

India could buy it. They have both the manpower and technical skills necessary to keep up the massive amount of postings that are expected on Instapundit. They also already worship cows, so using Evil Glenn's Idea Heifers would prove no problem for them. However, they may have some qualms with the karmic downside to all of the puppy-blending and hobo murdering that is a mainstay of Evil Glenn's livelihood.

Harvey would have bought the site, but most Graffitti Currency has only sentimental value. Besides, I think that not partaking in Penguin Porn is just about the only virtue that Harv has left.

Oh well, it looks like no one has both the money and the tastelessness to purchase Instapundit at the moment. So I figure that we're stuck with Evil Glenn for the time being.

...At least until Paris Hilton gets interested in the internet.

Filthy Lie: The Brief Toppling of Instapundit

It was dark in the suburban garage. The candles burning around the edge of the circle only emphasized the darkness rather than dispell it. Inscribed into the circle was the traditional pentagram. It and the circle were drawn on the floor in fresh chicken blood.¹

The two supplicants had worked on the pattern all night. And now, in the darkest hours before the dawn, they were ready.² They began to chant. Klaatu Baraata Nikto.

The darkness in the room seemed to congeal in the center of the pentagram. They started chanting even faster. And louder. Klaatu Baraata Nikto. Klaatu Baraata Nikto! KLAATU BARAATA NIKTO!

"Ahem." The voice emanated from somewhere in the darkness at the center of the room. "That doesn't really work, you know. Besides it's just a line from a 50's Sci-Fi flick."

"But Dark One, it brought you here, didn't it?" one of the supplicants said.

"Actually, the evil desire in your heart did all the work. Everything else is just window dressing." The voice answered. "And don't call me the Dark One. I am Phil, the prince of Insufficient Light, ruler of Heck."³

The couple tried to make out what the speaker looked like, but the lighting was just not good enough. Finally, after squinting for several minutes, they gave up and asked their question. "Oh Phil, can you grant us supremacy at the top of the TTLB Ecosystem? Over even the giant Instapundit!"

"Hmmm. Tricky. And what do I get for this?" Phil asked.

"Our soles!" they answered.

"Let me draw up the contract, and we've got ourselves a deal!" Phil stated.

The next day, the pair sat in front of their computer, constantly hitting the refresh button or the TTLB Ecosystem page. As they watched, their ranking grew higher and higher, untill at last, it eclipsed that of Instapundit.

"HAPPY DANCE!" They shouted as they began to caper around.

Suddenly, the computer monitor blinked. When they looked at the rankings they saw their site's dropping like a stone. In moments, their ranking had fallen almost completely off the charts, all the way down to that of a Flippery Fish.

Then the monitor dimmed, and a voice echoed in the now insufficiently lit room. "BWA HA HA HA HA! I am now here for your souls!"

"But what happened?" they cried. "We were supposed to be at the top of the Ecosystem!"

"Ah," said Phil, "But you failed to read the fine print to see how long you would remain there. Besides, I have a prior agreement with Evil Glenn for the top spot. If he even finds out that I gave you 10 minutes over him, there'd be, well... heck to pay."

With that, his figure slowly coalesced out of the darkness. "Time to pay up."

The Prince of Insufficient Light glowered as he drifted away from the house with his payments clutched in a small cloth bag. Stupid! he mentally berated himself, Always read all of the fine print.

Back in the house the two bloggers looked at each other. "Well, that was a close one," the first said. "He nearly took our eternal souls."

"Yeah," his companion replied. "We sure got lucky... But my feet are really starting to hurt."

¹ Which was kind of unnecessary, as any dark red fluid would have done just as well. In fact, the shape wasn't even that important. Many an intrusion of the nether-realms into our own world started with a leaky transmission.

² Yes I know, this sort of thing is usually done at midnight, but with the advent of Daylight Savings Time, thing have gotten a little lax.

³ This character was borrowed from the Dilbert Universe. Mr. Adams didn't seem to be using him at the moment. On the off chance that Mr. Adams reads this... I am a worm. I am not worthy.

Filthy Lie: Web Cam Pr0n

I didn't want to sully my blog with this kind of filth, but it has come to my attention that Evil Glenn is now dabbling in internet pr0n!

He just set up a webcam of a bunch of chicks sitting around on a beach. NAKED!

I warn you. Nothing is held back on this site. If you are above the legal age of consent, then you can go to...

Evil Glenn's Chicks Gone Wild!

This disgusting behavior must be stopped!

INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's New Book

Evil Glenn's New Book

Recently, rumors have hit the literary world that Glenn Reynolds was releasing a new book. Naturally, since he is ostensibly a law professor, the great legal minds were all lined up to see what he had produced.

Boy were they in for a shock.

All I've been able to obtain is the title and table of contents page from this new book. But let me assure you, it is no legal tome.

1001 Recipes for Puppy Smoothies

- by Evil Glenn

Chapter 1 --------------------------- The Blend Setting

Chapter 2 ----------------------------- The Mix Setting

Chapter 3 ---------------------------- The Whip Setting

Chapter 4 --------------------------- The Puree Setting

Chapter 5 -------------------------- The Frappe Setting

Chapter 6 ------------------------- The Liquify Setting

Chapter 7 ------------------------- The Fission Setting

His publisher has also hinted that Evil Glenn will be releasing several companion books to compliment this cookbook. Possible books will probably include The 2006 Blender Buying Guide, and A Connoisseur's Guide to Kennels of the North East.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Fourth of July

I jumped out of the lawn chair I had been sitting in as soon as I saw the truck turn the corner onto my street. He was late. I had been sitting there for almost three hours, and the UPS delivery was usually there by 10. I checked my watch. It was almost 10:15!

I tried to walk nonchalantly out to the big brown delivery vehicle, but I think my enthusiasm might have been showing just a little. It was probably the Dukes of Hazzard slide across the hood of my Grandfather's Caddy that gave me away. The delivery guy grinned at me while I signed his little computer and said, "Hmm, excited to get this?"

Of course I was. I'd been checking the tracking on the shipment every two hours since I ordered it the week before from an online store out of Wisconsin, and every hour since it had been shipped the day before. I was as giddy as a small child on Christmas morning!

"Not really," I lied. Then I snatched the package out of his hands and ran back to my house. I think I giggled a little bit, but I'm sure he couldn't hear me.

It was murder waiting for darkness. But eventually ...finally, night fell. And at last, I was able to set it up. The SUPERNOVA 5000. This baby was guaranteed to blind everyone looking at it in a five mile radius! For at least 3 hours! The fireball from one of these was once seen by astronauts in the International Space Station.

I could hardly wait.

First, I set up the launch pad in the back yard with the rocket/firework/bomb all prepped up and ready to go. Then I put on a heat reflective suit, asbestos gloves, and a welding helmet as I got ready to light it off.

Then I fell in the pool.

Well, at least this should make me a little less flammable, I thought after I had climbed out of the pool. Unfortunately the welding helmet had sunk to the bottom of the deep end, and was for the moment irretrievable. I figured that I would just have to make do without it.

Finally, the moment I had been waiting for arrived. I lit the fuse and dove behind a table I had sitting on edge across the yard from the pad. I covered my head and waited for the sound of the rocket launching.

*FSSSSssssssss.....*

What? I couldn't believe it, the firework was a dud! Then it made a little *POP* sound and a single sheet of paper fluttered out of the top.

With a morbid sense of doom, I picked it up and read:

Agent GEBIV, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find out what Evil Glenn will be doing for the Fourth of July this year. If you are discovered or captured, don't worry. I've heard that Glenn has been mellowing a little bit lately. You'll probably even survive.

This message will self destruct in 10 seconds..."

I angrily crumpled up the paper and threw it away. What a rip-off! I knew I shouldn't have ordered something from a site called Bad Explosions.com, I thought to myself. And now I have to go on a...

*KAAAAABOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!*

-Three hours later, when my vision returned, I realized that it was once again, time for another...

MISSION: IMPLAUSIBLE!
(Cue Theme Music)

Since by now, it was well after midnight, I decided that a stealth mission was called for. I donned all black clothing to be able to merge with the shadows,(very slimming too) and headed for Evil Glenn's lair.

In accordance with the way my life had generally been going, I was captured almost the moment my foot touched his property. Within minutes, I was dragged by his lackeys into what looked like a large kennel. Evil Glenn was there. His gloating started immediately.

"Ah, my young apprentice. I see you have finally come over to the Dark Side." he said in a sinister voice.

"NEVER!" I rebuffed him. "Besides, you know I can't afford the union dues."

"Ah yes. I've noticed that recruiting has been down a bit since I allowed them to unionize. Perhaps I should re-think that policy..." He drifted off into his thoughts for a moment, and then with a smirk asked me, "But if you aren't coming here to join me, why the black clothing? Other than it being very slimming."

"Ninja suit." I replied, a little testily. "It was supposed to make it harder for you to catch me."

"You'd have been better off wearing dark grey then. Black actually stands out more at night than a nice dark grey." For a moment, I was afraid that he was going to launch into a lecture. But then he returned to questioning me. "Then why are you here, my young friend?"

"Harvey sent me." Now I was a little sullen at having made such a stupid mistake about my clothes. "I'm supposed to find out what you were going to be doing for the Fourth of July this year.

"And I'm not your 'young friend' you filthy monster." I added.

"Lawyer."

"Whatever."

He paused to think again, and for a moment I wasn't sure what he was going to do. Then he smiled. Now I was worried.

"Actually, I don't mind telling you at all since I don't think that there is anything you can do about it. Unfortunately, my original plans were disrupted, so I have had to fall back to plan B."

"What's that?" I asked, immediately regretting it.

"Observe." he commanded. He reached into a cage along one side of the kennel and pulled a small dog out by it's scruff. "We have here a common mutt that has been force fed a special diet for the last 24 hours."

I didn't like the way this was going, but I asked, "What 'special diet'?"

"Oh, a little mixture I worked up on my own. It has everything a puppy needs: charcoal, sulfur, salt-peter..."

The realization suddenly hit me. "But that's-"

"Hush!" he said, cutting me off. "Watch!" He pulled a Zippo out of his pocket. Then, with a deft flick of his wrist, he lit it and held the flame to the tail of the dog in his other hand.

He dropped the dog to the ground as soon as the tail started burning, showering sparks everywhere. It ran back and forth across the lawn, until it's yelping was cut short by a small explosion.

I was nauseated. There was bits of puppy all over the lawn. "That's horrible!" All I could think about was that poor little dog. "What a waste..." I said thinking about how it's life had been cut so tragically short.

"Oh, nothing is wasted," said Evil Glenn. "I have drains placed all over the lawn to funnel everything down to the processing vats. I assure you that I am not giving up my smoothies just for the sake of some fireworks. Actually," he added, "this gives them a certain zing that makes for a nice change of pace."

He clapped his hands together with satisfaction. "Now let's get some of the bigger dogs out and really have a fireworks display!"

"NO! I can't take any more of that." I cried.

"Very well. Insta-henchmen, take him and throw him off the property."

"You're letting me go?" I was stunned. I had expected torture. In fact looked forward to it if it meant not having to watch dogs explode. But this was much better.

"Why not? You're an American, and this is our Nation's birthday. Consider it a one-time gift."

As his Insta-henchmen started to drag me away, I remembered something he had said earlier. "You said that this was plan B." I said. "What was plan A?"

"Oh that? I was planning to take over the International Space Station and then I was going to crash it into the Statue of Liberty during the Fourth of July celebrations. But just before my team of agents got to the station, there was a bright flash from somewhere near Buffalo that blinded them..."

"Um. Gotta Go!" I said as I wrenched myself from his lackey's grasp and ran off into the night.

I may not have been able to stop his puppy-fireworks, but at least, indadvertantly at least, I stopped his planned destruction of the ISS!

Filthy Lie: Who's the Bigger Link Whore?

The debate has been raging across the Blogsphere for the last week or two, about weather or not link-whores like The Alliance of Free Bloggers are good or bad for the whole concept of blogging. Some people feel that we members of The Alliance are just a bunch of goof-offs that are taking away some of the attention that serious blogs rightfully deserve.

Well, they're partly right. We are a bunch of goof-offs, but I don't feel that we're taking anything away from anyone else. The internet isn't a net-sum-zero place. Just because someone follows a link to The Alliance, and maybe to my site, doesn't mean that took away any hits from a more serious site. At least in my opinion... whatever that matters. Besides, anyone who spends a lot of time on a goof-off site like There's One, Only! or the Alliance isn't usually going to be the kind of person who spends a lot of time on a more serious site anyways.

But that isn't the whole point of this post. This post is intended to answer the question as to which is the bigger link-whore, The Alliance of Free Blogs or Instapundit?

To me, the whole answer lies in how you define link-whore. Is it someone who does anything for a link (like a crack-addict), or someone who'll give a link out to anyone (like your stereotypical streetwalker)?

In the first case, The Alliance would clearly be the winner. After all, Evil Glenn doesn't do anything to get links. He's so big they just happen without any effort on his part. But this definition doesn't really fit the whole situation. In this case, you would really be taking about link-junkies. And at that, there is no doubt that The Alliance is made up of the biggest link-junkies around. We will do just about ANYTHING to get a hit! Just ask; we'll probably do it.

However, when it comes to handing out links like a woman of the night hands out her affection, no one can compare to Evil Glenn. He'll link to anyone as long as they catch his eye. Weather it's something humorous, something controversial, or a particular political insight; if he likes it, he links it.

At least at The Alliance some standards have to be met. A member site has to catch our eye, and they have to let us know about it (usually by linking to The Alliance first or at least sending an e-mail). And while we do occasionally link to non-members, they still have to meet the same rigorous standards that members do (namely the aforementioned link or e-mail to The Alliance). See. Much higher standards.

So while The Alliance may be a bunch of link addicts, willing to do anything for a hit, up to and including making up filthy lies about an upstanding member of the Tennessee legal community; at least we don't hide being a link-whore behind the facade of appearing as an upstanding member of the Tennessee legal community.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Father's Day

The Dark Lord of the Blogsphere sat on his throne, brooding in the dark. He re-read the letter clutched in his hand for what seemed like the hundredth time. Finally with a sigh that sounded exactly unlike a freight train running over a slow turtle, he made his decision.

Stabbing a bony finger down onto the panel on the side of the desktop, he turned on the intercom. "Send in the Insta-son." He said into the mic.

A few moments later, the Insta-son walked into the Dark Lord's gloomy study. "Yes Father? You wanted to see me?" he asked.

"Father." snorted the Evil Blogger under his breath. Then, he flung the letter onto the desk. "Do you know what this is?" he asked the younger man.

The Insta-son glanced over the document for a moment and then answered. "It looks like a medical report of some kind."

"It's the results of a blood test." said the Dark Lord. "Two tests actually. Mine, and ...yours."

"So?" The Insta-son was puzzled by this exchange, to say the least.

"The report says that you are not my son," pronounced the Blogger in a tone of voice that could have frozen whole oceans. "Your slattern of a mother must have cheated on me! Because this document proves, medically and scientifically, that I am not your biological father!"

"Of course you aren't." answered the Insta-son.

"WHAT!?! You know? But... but, how... when?" stammered the Dark Lord.

"You told me. I'm adopted, remember? And every year, on my adoption day anniversary, you tell me the story of how I became Evil Glenn, Jr."

"Oh. Right. Now I remember," Evil Glenn (Sr) said wistfully. "We found you in that alley with a homeless couple I had just bludgeoned. I was just getting ready to beat you to death when the Insta-wife -such a wonderful woman- noticed you hitting the dead hoboes with your little toy hammer. She insisted that we adopt you on the spot." He wiped a small tear from the corner of his eye.

"Aw, Dad. You always get so sentimental when you tell that story." the Insta-son gushed.

"Come here son. And give your Dad a hug." beamed Evil Glenn.

After they had hugged for a little bit, the Insta-son looked up at his father and asked, "So, what do you want to do for Father's Day this year?"

"The same thing we do every night!" The Dark Blogger proclaimed.

"What, try to take over the world?"

"Well... yes, that. But first, let us kill some hoboes!"

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn and the Koran

All across the Middle East, people were rioting. Cars were burning. Buildings were being torn down. Small patches of wild-flowers were being needlessly trampled! And why?

Because they claimed that Evil Glenn had desecrated the Koran!

But what could Evil Glenn have done to the Koran that would incite these peaceful, friendly, and tolerant Moslems to such violence? (Boy was that hard to type with a straight face...)

A quick superficial look over Evil Glenn's personal copy of the Koran revealed nothing wrong. However, a more careful examination was much more illuminating.

It appeared that Evil Glenn had underlined and annotated several of his favorite passages. Mostly having to do with stuff like 'smiting the unbelievers like dogs.' But some of the passages seemed to be underlined at random.

You don't think that he used his Idea-Mini-Cows to choose some of the verses to comment on? That would sure give the Moslem world a reason to get mad...

And it would explain some of the odder sections that he had underlined.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn Pictures

Last week, Harvey gave us a few images of Evil Glenn to use in a Filthy Lie.

Thanks to my newfound best friend, Gimp (and some budding image manipulation skills), I now have Potoshopic photographic evidence of some of Evil Glenn's evil activities.

First, we see Evil Glenn getting ready to dig into a fresh puppy sandwich, with the leftovers to go into the blender!

Next, we see Evil Glenn posing for the camera just before he kills a well dressed hobo with his trusty hobo-whacking bat.

And finally, we see Evil Glenn helping his students perfect The Robot Dance. If you look closely, you can see Evil Glenn's robotic remote controller in his hands!

It won't be long now before we find Photoshopic photographic evidence proving the rest of our Filthy Lies about Evil Glenn!

Fitlhy Lie: Evil Glenn vs. Writer's Block

Every blogger dreads it. And nearly every one of us will be forced to face it some day. Writer's Block. In fact, we bloggers have our own term for a type of it. BEAL. Blogger Ennui Apathy & Lethargy. (I'm not sure if she coined the term, but Susie of Practical Penumbra seems to be the one who put it into common usage.)

BEAL is such a problem that it can even affect the giants of the Blogshpere. Frank J. of IMAO has been forced to battle it. Harvey of Bad Example has been held in it's clutches. John Hawkins of Right Wing News must suffer it from time to time. (I know I struggle with it on a daily basis. Not that I deserve to be in the same paragraph as these others. Well... maybe Harvey.)

But while BEAL can be deadly, it is Writer's Block which can be more frustrating. BEAL best summes up the feeling when you just don't have the desire to blog. Writer's Block is when you want to write (or blog) but can't think of anything to say, or how to say it.

And while I doubt that Evil Glenn has too many bouts of BEAL, surely he must have Writer's Block occasionally. There must be days that even though he wants to write, he just doesn't know what to write. So the question is:

What does Evil Glenn do when he has Writer's Block?

Those "Indeed"s, "Heh"s and "Hmm..."s don't just write themselves. Or do they?

My recent investigative research has uncovered an unusual thing. Just like Harvey has his Idea-Lemur Bosco, Evil Glenn has his three Idea-MiniHeifers; Indeed, Hmm..., and Heh. But what's really weird, is how Evil Glenn uses them. In contrast to Bosco, who pounds on Harvey's head until he posts, Evil Glenn plays a form of Cow bingo using his three Idea-MiniHeifers.

What he does, is spread out a few newspapers (local and national), some printouts of internet stories, and the printed transcripts of a few of the major news networks on the floor. Then, he turns the Idea-MiniHeifers loose. The tiny bovines wander around on the scattered papers, and each eventually, "picks" a story by competing its digestive cycle on a news item.

Here's a picture of the Idea-MiniHeifers in action.

(Click for bigger image.)

The best part of this system, is that the cows also provide Evil Glenn's commentary for him when he doesn't know what to type. If Glenn can't think of anything to say about the article, he merely links to it, possibly cut-and-pastes an excerpt, and notes which of the cows chose it.

That's why so many of his posts are done just that way. And you thought that Evil Glenn was just indicating his opinion in a concise way. In actuality, he doesn't know what to say, and is just indicating which cow's chip chose the story!

I guess it just goes to show, that a lot of the commentary and opinion on the internet is just a bunch of [OPERATION TIMED OUT]

Filthy Lie Mad-Lib 2

Since the last Mad-Lib was so much fun. I decided to try another. First, I filled in the blanks.

verb ending with -ing: blending
past tense verb: blogged
place (e.g., Cincinnati, the beach): the Blogsphere
adjective: Evil
type of pet: puppy
boy's name: Glenn
singular noun: hobo
past tense verb: murdered
animal (e.g., zebra): penguin
number: 14
number: 42
plural noun: bloggers

And the story is in the Extended Entry!

While I was blending to the bus after school, I saw a poster announcing that a pet show would be held the next day in the Blogsphere. I was so Evil! I couldn't wait to enter my pet puppy Glenn in the show.

The next morning at the pet show, Glenn balanced a big hobo on his nose. Then he murdered around three plastic bloggers. Suddenly, a big penguin bumped into Glenn. He blogged 14 feet in the air. The judge made a terrible face when he saw what happened so I didn't think Glenn would win. Imagine my surprise when he won the number 42 prize! I was happy to have a great puppy like Glenn.

Mad-Lib Fun!

One of the comments to yesterday's generic romance was to make it into a mad-lib. While that wasn't my initial intention, it did spark an idea. I searched around the net and found this fun little mad-lib site (for grades 3 and up, so I should fit in just fine!). I used this to make a mad-lib Filthy lie about Evil Glenn.

Here are the words that were asked for:

town: Nashville
adjective: evil
singular noun: blogger
number: 29
plural noun: hobos
adjective: tiny
singular noun: puppy
male: Evil Glenn
past tense verb: blogged
singular noun: hammer
female: Susie
adjective: fast
singular noun: blender
singular noun: tuna sandwich
singular noun: computer
past tense verb: ran
adjective: weak

And the story is in the extended entry!

Yesterday my class took a field trip to Nashville. We had a really evil time. The guide showed us one blogger, at least 29 hobos, and a very tiny puppy.

Evil Glenn had an accident. He blogged over the hammer and banged into Susie. She fell against a big fast blender and put her tuna sandwich through the computer. We all ran! The trip was even more weak than a day at school.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn vs. Huffington

After reading what Harvey had said about Evil Glenn appearing on television opposite Arianna Huffington, I had to watch the video. And while viewing it, I couldn't help but get the same feeling that Harvey had. That Evil Glenn was going to be giving the Huffster the biggest smack down the net had ever seen.

But the question is, what will Evil Glenn do about Arianna Huffington and the Huffington Post?

Since I felt that on this issue, Evil Glenn and I would be in some form of agreement, (Huffington should be destroyed) I decided to go right to the source. So, steeling myself, I called the Puppy Blender.

*ring* *ring* *ring*

Evil Glenn: Hello, GEBIV.

Me: How did you know it was me?

Evil Glenn: Caller I.D. you twit.

Me: Oh, yeah. Anyways, the reason I called was-

Evil Glenn: To find out how I'm going to get Huffington and her Huffington Post.

Me: Wha...! How did you know that?

Evil Glenn: Mwa ha ha ha! I know everything!

Me: Even about the...

Evil Glenn: Yes.

Me: ... *shudder*

Evil Glenn: So, do you what to know what I'm going to do to her?

Me: All right. What's your diabolical plan?

Evil Glenn: Well, it's a multiple layered plan. My first step was to ignore her. I was hoping that the vile site would just wither on the vine and die. But since the "big media" was giving her so much publicity, that wasn't going to happen. However, by not wasting any of my time on her, she will be forced to use up all of her favors from the Main Stream Media just to get started. Once that happens, I'll move to stage two.

Me: What is that?

Evil Glenn: I Installanche her!

Me: Isn't that good?

Evil Glenn: Only if her servers can handle it. With Instapundit linking to every post and driving the traffic up, she'll be lucky if each page loads in less than half an hour. Then, with her bandwidth all used up, she will have to pay for more.

Me: Yeah, but won't that mean that she'll get more advertisers?

Evil Glenn: *chuckle* Yes it does.

Me: You make that sound like you want it to happen.

Evil Glenn: Oh, I do. Then, once she is dependant on all of that advertising revenue to support her site, I'll stop linking. Her traffic will dwindle to nothing overnight, the advertisers will all pull their ads, demand all of their money back, and drive her into bankruptcy! The plan is foolproof! It can't fail! Mwa ha ha ha ha!

Me: Hey, nice evil laugh!

Evil Glenn: Thank you, I've been practicing.

Me: Well, that sounds like a pretty good pla-

Evil Glenn: And then, when she is totally broke, I will appear, bearing a matching set of latex penguin suits, to sweep her off her feet and rescue her!

Me: Whoa! Too much information! Um... gotta go.

Evil Glenn: Oh, one more thing. I wouldn't drink that milk in your fridge. It went bad two days ago.

Me: Why you-

*CLICK*

There you have it. Evil Glenn's diabolical plan to destroy the Huffington Post through shameless promotion. If I could only get him that mad at There's One, Only!

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Farm

OK, kiddies. It's time for Sing-Along Time™ with your good buddy GEBIV! Now just let me get the ol' banjo tuned up a little.

*twang* *twang* *twang* *Sproing!*

Oh well, who knows how to tune one of these things anyways?

Ready? Oops! I almost forgot the most important thing to do before Sing-Along Time™!
[Hangs sign reading "Please don't shoot the banjo player!" around neck]

And a one, and a two...

Evil Glenn Had A Farm

Evil Gle-enn had a farm,
Ee i ee i oh!
And on this farm he had some puppies,
Ee i ee i oh!
With a blend-blend here,
And a slurp-slurp there.
Here a blend, there a slurp,
Everywhere a blend-slurp.
Evil Gle-enn had a farm,
Ee i ee i oh!

Evil Gle-enn had a farm,
Ee i ee i oh!
And on this farm he had some hobos,
Ee i ee i oh!
With a whack-whack here,
And a smack-smack there.
Here a whack, there a smack,
Everywhere a whack-smack.
Evil Gle-enn had a farm,
Ee i ee i oh!

Evil Gle-enn had a farm,
Ee i ee i oh!
And on this farm he had Frank J.
Ee i ee i oh!
With a punch-punch here,
And a punch-punch there.
Here a punch, there a punch,
Everywhere a punch-punch.
Evil Gle-enn had a farm,
Ee i ee i oh!

Evil Gle-enn had a farm,
Ee i ee i oh!
And on this farm he had some penguins,
Ee i ee i oh!
With a [censored] here,
And a [censored] there.
Here a [censored], there a [censored],
Everywhere a [censored].
Evil Gle-enn had a farm,
Ee i ee i oh!

*BANG*

*thud*

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Mother's Day

Everyone has a mother. It's a biological necessity. Even Saddam Hussein had a mother. (He had her boiled in camel milk as an April Fools joke, but that's another story.)

So it should come as no surprise that even Evil Glenn has a mother. And so, he also has to celebrate Mother's Day.

Thus, the question was raised:

What does Evil Glenn do for Mother's Day.

And to this end, I give you

Incredibly Inane Information about Evil Glenn's Mother's Day.

• Evil Glenn used to give his mother fresh flowers every Mother's Day. But now that the cemeteries all lock their gates at night, he has a hard time stealing them from the memorials.
• He once sent her a box of chocolate covered nuts for Mother's Day, but she had an allergic reaction to them.
• The next year he just sent her a big jar of nuts. It turns out she wasn't allergic to the chocolate, like he thought.
• Another time, Evil Glenn dressed up like Santa Clause and climbed down her chimney to deliver her flowers.
• He gets confused about holidays, and sometimes mixes them up.
• Fortunately, it was a warm night, so the fire wasn't too big.
• Too bad his name isn't Chester. (sorry really bad/obscure joke)
• Unlike his father who apreciates getting a big bottle of liquor for Father's Day, Evil Glenn's mother doesn't like to drink.
• So Glenn's dad get's booze in both in June and May!
• Evil Glenn has gotten so cheep that he's started giving recycled greeting cards.
• This year she's getting a Bah Mitzvah card.
• At least it's better than the "Congratulations on the Successful Sex Change Operation!" card she got last year.

Filthy Lie: Questions for the Dark Lord of the Blogsphere

Recently, Harvey mentioned that Empress Pink Kitty was going to be meeting Evil Glenn face to face (for real) at the BlogNashville Symposium and brought up the question:

What would you say to (or what questions would you ask) Evil Glenn if you met him at BlogNashville?

Well, I got to thinking. (Which hurt - a lot.) But I couldn't decide which questions to ask Evil Glenn.

Then it hit me. What with bloggers being such big celebrities, and Evil Glenn being just about the biggest blogger there is (that's why he's the Dark Lord of the Blogsphere), he's probably starting to get a little annoyed at all the attention. I bet that he's even starting to long for the good old days. Back when he was just a simple little lawyer/law professor who only occasionally dreamed of taking over the world and blending all the puppies.

And all that thought led me to wondering what part of the blogger fame he was most weary of. And so I give you...

The top ten list of questions Evil Glenn is tired of hearing.

• 10. How can I become a big, world-famous blogger like you?


• 9. Wow. You make how much money blogging?


• 8. Can I borrow $20?


• 7. How about $10?


• 6. What do blended puppies really taste like?


• 5. Do you have a macro that types "Indeed" and "Heh" for you?


• 4. What is the mean flight speed of a fully laden swallow?


• 3. Is that a keyboard in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?


• 2. Do you think you're as popular as Frank J.?

And the number one most annoying question that Evil Glenn is tired of hearing...

• 1. Instapundit? What's that?

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn and Baseball

It wasn't easy, but they managed to drag the Evil Blogger into the chamber. "You can't do this to me!" Evil Glenn screamed. "I'm not subject to the laws of you mere mortals!" A bit of froth started to appear on his lips. "I'll get you all! And your little doggies too! Mmm... puppies." He seemed to distract himself for a moment with that thought, and the Federal Agents holding his arms took advantage of it and wrestled him into the witness stand.

After he had been firmly shackled to the chair, and a large amount of sedatives had been administered, the questioning began. The first Senator to speak up was Senator Kennedy(D-MA). "Mr. Reynolds, could you please tell us, in your own words, what first prompted your involvement in Baseball."

"Ah yes. The beginning. What a good place to start." Evil Glenn paused for a moment. "Let me think...

"It all began when I overheard two of my students arguing over something. As they continued to argue, I kept hearing repeated statements about the umpires being 'a bunch of bums', and how the fans in the stadium all wanted to kill said umpires. This intrigued me to no end. I immediately went out and purchased tickets to the next game to see what it was all about.

"Imagine my surprise when I discovered that these 'bums' everyone was complaining about were a group of men wearing black, who's arbitrary decisions affected the outcome of the game! And the players and coaches had no way to complain about their rulings. They were practically judges! And of course, completely off limits in my book."

"What do you mean by 'off limits'?" the Senator asked.

"Well that should be obvious!" replied Evil Glenn. "I can't go around murdering judges. They used to be lawyers, and there are professional courtesies to observe."

"Then there was no alcohol involved with your discovery of Baseball?" Kennedy sounded vaguely disappointed.

"None at all."

"Not even beer?" Kennedy was starting to sound a little desperate. "Because if there was, I feel that we should take a recess and investigate it further."

"Sorry." Evil Glenn said without actually sounding sorry. "No beer either."

Kennedy just slumped back into his chair.

John Kerry (D-MA) leaned towards the microphone in front of him. "I would just like to say at this moment, that I served in Vietnam."

Evil Glenn looked at him. "And...?"

"That's all." Kerry sat back, comfortable in the knowledge that he had once served, however briefly, in Vietnam.

"I have a question for Mr. Reynolds." It was Chuck Shumer (D-NY). "After you decided not to kill the umpires, why did you stay interested in Baseball?"

"Well, by then I had discovered another thing. Gambling."

"Gambling?"

"Oh yes. I was quite surprised to learn that people would actually wager money on the outcome of these sporting events. I was making quite a bit of money at those games... but I still didn't like the fact that I would sometimes loose."

"So, is that when you decided to give your favorite team a little... edge?" Asked Senator McCain(RINO-AZ)

"I only gave them a little energy drink that I had developed." Answered Evil Glenn a little defensively.

"A drink filled with steroids!" proclaimed McCain. He then turned to the other committee members. "So you can see why Congress should have authority over-"

"Actually, there were no steroids." interrupted Glenn.

"Drugs then."

"None."

"Then what could this 'wonder drink' you gave them contain?" the Senator asked sarcastically.

"Blended puppies!" Evil Glenn said with an... evil grin.

"Puppies?" exclaimed one of the other Senators. "That's awful!"

"I don't see what the problem is," Glenn replied. "After all, they serve cooked dogs in the stands all the time."

"Those are hot dogs you demented man! They are made from beef... well, mostly beef. But definitely not dogs!"

A look of consternation appeared on Evil Glenn's face. "Pardon me for one moment," he said. "I have to take care of something."

With that, he stuck one long finger down his throat and emptied his stomach onto the floor next to the witness-stand. "Ah, much better," he said as he wiped off his chin. "I was wondering what was making me feel ill."

A meek little clerk stepped up to the Committee Chairman's elbow, and whispered into his ear. The Chairman listened, nodded a couple of times and frowned once. He then leaned forward and spoke into his mic. "It seems that, as repugnant as the thought is, I must release you, Mr. Reynolds. Apparently you have broken none of Major League Baseball's rules. However, we will be suggesting certain changes to those rules to see to it that none of your actions can ever be repeated."

Evil Glenn rubbed his hands together as soon as the Federal agents had released his restraints. "Very good." he said. He paused for a moment then asked, "Can you tell me one thing?"

"What is that?"

"My personal shake supplies have been a little low while I was, ahem, helping my baseball team."

"And...?"

"I was wondering if you knew if the animal shelter was still open?"

"GET THAT MAN OUT OF HERE!" bellowed the committee chairman. "And someone get a mop."

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Reality show.

The popcorn was almost done, the smoothies were chilling in the refrigerator, the attack rabbits had been kennelled, and the dungeon had been remodeled into a home theater. Evil Glenn smiled. Everything was all set.

He thought back to a month before, when a couple of his biggest e-advertisers had approached him with a new idea. "Hey," they said. "You've got this internet thing all sewn up. Why don't you try to break into TV?" Their opening statement had intrigued Evil Glenn, so he called off the Insta-henchmen and let them finish. They had sold him on what they called "the hottest idea ever to hit the airwaves, Reality TV!"

Glenn had then set out to produce his very own Reality program. He hired the best cameramen, the best writers, the best make-up girls. But no caterers. He still preferred to make his own meals - the caterer never seemed to get the puppies smooth enough.

After three weeks of filming, he was ready to show the program to his advertisers. They arrived at his Fortress of Evil right on time. Smiling graciously, Glenn's Insta-Wife led the guests down into the transformed dungeon where the viewing was to take place.

Once everyone was seated in front of the screen, Evil Glenn stepped in front of it to introduce his creation. "Ladies and Gentlemen, you have all invested heavily in my latest project; which I will soon be showing to you. I just hope that you are all as proud of it as I am. Heh. Indeed." He then took a small bow to acknowledge the light applause from his somewhat captive audience.

Taking his seat he called out to his Insta-henchmen. "Lights!" One of them dimmed the rooms lights. "Roll the tape!"

Following a brief pause, a roll of duct-tape came bouncing across the floor. "I meant play the TV show, you idiots!" he screamed. He turned back to his guests and added in a somewhat calmer tone, "Good henchmen are so hard to find these days."

Just then, the projector started. Everyone stopped talking and settled in to watch what they hoped would be the next smash TV hit.

(The show starts with a close up of Evil Glenn. It pans back as he is talking, and we gradually see that he is walking down a sidewalk in what looks like a typical American Suburb)

Evil Glenn: Hello. Welcome to The Glenn Reynolds Show! Today we are walking along a beautiful street in a small town in Ohio, where just this week, I helped a young man purchase his first home.

(He stops and turns to look up a driveway.)

Evil Glenn: Ah. Here he is now. Good afternoon Mr. Culzephyr.

Culzephyr: Oh hello, Evil Glenn.

Evil Glenn: Did you get all of the paperwork I sent you?

Culzephyr: Yeah. And it's all done.

Evil Glenn: Good. Then as soon as the bank signs off, the house is all yours.

Culzephyr: Thanks. You know what? You're not too bad for an Evil Genius bent on controlling the Blogsphere.

Evil Glenn: Indeed.

(The camera cuts to a different street where Evil Glenn is sitting on a park bench)

Evil Glenn: Welcome back. In this quaint little town in Texas, there is a lovely little bungalow that just went on the market. It is within walking distance of the park I'm sitting in right now, and also has convenient access to the highway. Next, we'll be going to-

A shriek drowned out the audio of the program. Evil Glenn signalled to his insta-henchmen to stop the projector. When the lights came back up, he saw his investors sitting there stunned. One was weeping softly, while another was muttering incomprehensively under his breath. The one who had shrieked looked up at Glenn.

"What did you do?" he asked. "You were supposed to make a reality show."

"That's what I did." replied the evil blogger. "I made a realty show. I don't know why they're popular, but you and your fellow investors told me that they were all the rage right-"

"No, you fool!" the man yelled. "RE-AL-I-TY SHOWS!! You know, a TV show about real life. Not Real Estate!"

"Hmm. Perhaps you should have been more specific. I don't watch television myself you know. It cuts into valuable blogging time."

The man started sobbing. "You've ruined us. Everything we had was invested in this, and now we're all penniless. I'll probably even lose my home..."

Evil Glenn's eyes glinted for the briefest of moments. "Did you say you would be... homeless?"

Oh No!

Evil Glenn is in Japan!

UPDATE: I fixed the link. Don't know what I did wrong the first time...

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's April Fool's Day

Evil Glenn sat in the darkness of his evil lair and chuckled to himself. "Those fools at the Alliance of Free Bloggers have no idea what's in store for them," he thought. "Why, if they had the slightest clue as to what's coming, they'd be fleeing in terror."

"Woman! Bring me my gloating jacket!" he yelled to his Insta-Wife.

She walked into the room averting her eyes from the paisly colored tweed coat she was carrying. It looked as if someone had seen the outline of a professor's clothing, but had no idea of the actual style or texture. If you looked too closely, you could lose your soul completely. (Or at least your lunch.)

He slipped the offensive garment over his shoulders. "Ahhhh," he sighed. "All I have to do now is press the ENTER key on my master computer, and the prank to end all pranks will begin!"

He sauntered over to his desk, savoring every moment. For a minute, he stood staring at the twinkling lights of his computer array. All across the board, green lights signified that his plan was ready, and only waiting for his signal. Slowly, he extended one bony digit and reached towards the keyboard. "Soon," he murmered to himself, "I will be the greatest April Fools Prankster in the history of the world."

Ever closer came his finger to the fateful button, his whole body trembling with anticipation, until yielding to the tiniest bit of pressure, the button clicked.

Instantly, the entire computer went dark. Then a subtle flicker of yellow flames lit up from behind, the smoke that was beginning to billow out of the consol. The Dark Lord of the Blogsphere recoiled in terror. "What went wrong?" he screamed.

Behind him, he heard a scratching sound. He whirled to face the door and stared at a small silhouette in the bright rectangle of light. His eyes narrowed in rage. He knew that shape.

"CURSE YOU. SLINKY THE WONDER FERRET!!!" He bellowed, as the small shape scurried away. "I'll get you if it's the last thing I ever do!"

Sometime later, an amused GEBIV stood over a sleeping Slinky the Wonder Ferret curled up in his bed. "You lazy little thing." he said. "All you do is sleep in your little hammock all day while I have to work." He sighed. "Oh well, sweet dreams little guy. I'm going to go surf the web."

As Slinky's room-mate walked away to set up his laptop, he didn't see the little grin that tugged at the corner of the ferret's mouth. And even if he had, he would have never guessed what caused it.

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Investment Advice

I was in a convenience store, looking for a little snack. I needed something to tide me over till supper (about 6 hours away), but I couldn’t decide on what to have. Then a flashy bit of advertising caught my eye.

“INSTANT WIN GAME!!!! You could be a millionaire!
Details inside.”

That decided it for me. It was the last O’Harvey bar in the store, and if I didn’t buy it, someone else might win the money.

I peeled back the wrapper to see if I had won, and was shocked by what I saw!

SORRY, BUT YOU ARE NOT A WINNER!

However, Agent GEBIV, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find out what investment advice you would get if you asked Evil Glenn.

(I need to raise a small amount of seed money into a large amount of money really quickly, and Evil Glenn seems to be able to make money like you wouldn’t believe.) If you are captured, or discovered, we will of course disavow all knowledge of you and your actions.

If, by some strange quirk fate, of you are successful, please let me know right away. You can reach me at (555) 555-5245, Cell D-27, upper bunk. Ask for "Sweet-Cheeks."

Please hurry.

This message will self-destruct in 10…9…8…

I dropped the wrapper and just to be safe, the candy bar, into a trashcan as I raced to my Jeep.

*BOOMP*

As I watched the trash drifting down to the ground in my rear-view mirror, I knew that it was time for another…

MISSION: IMPLAUSIBLE!
(Cue Theme Music)

Since I was already on the road, I decided to head right to the Fortress of Evil. Then I passed a gas station and noticed the price at the pumps…

OK, let’s reach out and touch someone, instead.

I flipped open my cell phone, (don’t worry, I pulled over and parked first) and called the operator.

“Hi, I need to call the Fortress of Evil. And can you reverse the charges? You can! Great! (He can afford it more than I can.)”

While I waited for the operator to connect us, I decided that a little subterfuge would be in order. I would have to pose as someone Evil Glenn would want to help. A few moments later, I was talking to the Dark Lord of the Blogsphere himself:

Evil Glenn: Wha…? Hello?

Me: Herro! It is I, Mao!

Evil Glenn: Chairman Mao? I thought you were dead.

Me: No. I just had a rittle cold.

Evil Glenn: But all the papers said you died in 76.

Me: Umm…

Evil Glenn: Anyways, it’s good to hear from you again! What’s with the silly accent?

Me: (dropping the lousy fake Chinese accent) Oh, nothing. I just wanted to test out… um… I was just… er… It was a clever ruse, yeah that’s it, a ruse to keep people from spying on me. Uh… I needed to make sure it was really you on the phone.

Evil Glenn: Wow. Brilliant!

Me: Well, I’m glad it worked.

Evil Glenn: So, what did you call for.

Me: You see, I needed a little advice.

Evil Glenn: On what?

Me: Money.

Evil Glenn: Go on.

Me: Well, I need some investment advice. You’ve always got money. What with the revenue from your website, and being a lawyer, and being a teacher, and that penguin brothel-

Evil Glenn: Hey! That’s just for private use.

Me: …

Evil Glenn: But you’re right, I’m rolling in it. Money, that is.

Me: And what would your advice be if I had a small amount of money and needed to make it grow?

Evil Glenn: Why don’t you just steal more from the Chinese people?

Me: Um… well, they think I’m dead. Remember?

Evil Glenn: Oh yeah. Bet that helps with not getting spam, eh?

Me: Hey, focus. Money advice!

Evil Glenn: OK. The first place to invest is hardware stores. People just can’t buy enough hammers. Hammer, hammer, hammer. Whack, whack, whack. Must hammer. Must whack! MUST KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL HOBOS!

Me: STOP! DOWN BOY!

Evil Glenn: (panting) Sorry, got caught up in the moment. What were we talking about?

Me: Investments.

Evil Glenn: Oh, yes. The other thing that I would recommend putting your money in is gold. Lovely gold. Smooth shiny gold…

Me: Gold?

Evil Glenn: Of course. It’s a great way to make obscene profits without all of the tedium of going through law school. Gold is always a good bet. But definitely not silver! Can’t stand the stuff.

Me: Right. What with being a vampire and all…

Evil Glenn: Yep. Well, that’s all the advice I have. Anything else.

Me: Just one more thing… INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!

*CLICK*

Now, I just had to get this information to Harvey before he drops his soap…

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Historic Feat

I was just sitting down at my desk to do a little old-fashioned correspondence, when all of a sudden my pen jumped out of my hand and started sliding across the page. I was a little startled at first, but then I started reading what was being written.

Then I was completely astounded. (And more than a little nervous.)

Agent GEBIV, your mission, should you choose to accept it, (and not wimp out like a total chicken) is to find out what historic feat Evil Glenn is attempting.

As usual, if you are discovered or captured we will disavow all knowledge of your actions. In fact, we will not only deny that we know you, we will deny that you have any right to exist. Um… Don’t make us lie about not knowing you. Yeah, that sounds good.

Anyways, this message will self-destruct in 10 seconds.

I ducked behind the chair and waited for the explosion. But nothing happened.

Cautiously, I stood up and looked over the seat back. Still nothing. I stepped around the chair figuring that for once, Harvey’s self destruct system didn’t work.

*SPLOIT*

I was wrong. The pen burst, showering the paper and half the room with ink. Just great, I thought. That was a new shirt.

As I tried to sponge the ink off of my clothes, I realized that it was once again time for another…

Trip to the drycleaners!

And after that, another…

MISSION: IMPLAUSIBLE!
(Cue Theme Music)
I thought that I might get lucky, and not have to risk my neck on this mission. So I made a quick phone call to the Guinness Book Of World Records to see if Evil Glenn was trying to set a new record.

I got good news and bad news. The good news was that, yes he was trying to achieve an historic first. The bad news was they didn’t know what it was, and had only that morning sent a representative to meet with the Dark Lord of the Blogsphere.

It looked like I was going to have enter Evil Glenn’s Fortress of Evil to get to the bottom of this assignment. So I gassed up the Jeep and headed to Tennessee.

When I entered the Fortress grounds, I was surprised to not have to deal with any security. Even the Attack Rabbits were locked away in their pens.

When I entered Evil Glenn’s study, I learned why the alarms and such had been turned off. The Guinness Book representative was sitting there looking at a stopwatch. He was a short man, wearing a top hat and tails, and holding a stopwatch. I figured that Evil Glenn had shut everything off so the representative would be able to enter and make an official judgment. Something hard to do while being gnawed on by carnivorous rabbits.

Evil Glenn looked over at me as I walked in. “Oh,” he sneered. “Harvey only sent you.”

“Yeah, I’m all that’s here.” I answered. “But I think that I can handle anything you’ve got.”

He just snorted in reply.

“Let’s just get this over with.” I said. “What ‘historic first’ are you trying to do?”

The Guinness rep spoke right up. “Mr. Reynolds here is going to be the first man to ever wear sandals with dark socks-“

“That’s not true!” I interrupted.

“Ahem. If you’d let me finish. He will be the first man to ever wear sandals with dark socks up to his knees, for five years straight, without ever removing them.”

“Why would anyone ever want to do that?!” I exclaimed.

“Simple.” Answered Evil Glenn. “When you wear you socks up to your knees like this, your calves stay the nicest, palest white.”

“I don’t believe you.” I groaned shaking my head. “That has to be the silliest reason-“

“Here! Look!” He shouted as he rolled down his socks to show me. The fluorescent lighting reflecting off of his chicken-legs almost blinded me.

*Click* “And mark.” Said the Guinness rep.

“What?” asked Evil Glenn.

“Let’s see,” muttered the rep. as he punched buttons on his calculator. “Carry the 3 and… times 12…”

“What are you talking about?” demanded the Dark Lord.

“You’re total sock wearing time.” Answered the shorter man. “I’m afraid you were short of 5 years by 10 minutes. Therefore, I regret to inform you that we can not award you the certificate.”

“Nooooooooooooooo!” moaned Evil Glenn. He turned back towards me. “This is all your fault!

“Insta-henchmen!” he yelled. Then as they filed into the room, he pointed at me. “Throw him in the dungeon!”

“Wait!” I had to think fast. This was a little more muscle than I was prepared to face. I looked at the Guinness Book man. “Isn’t there something else he could do to get into the book?”

“There is one thing…”

Evil Glenn stopped his Insta-henchmen with a wave of his hand. “What is it?”

“Well, the only record that you could set quickly is the one for ‘consecutive kicks to the groin without loosing consciousness.’”

“I’ll do it!” announced Evil Glenn. He picked out two of his Insta-henchmen. “I want you two to keep kicking me, no matter what I say or do, until I break the record.”

He assumed his stance. “Begin.”

*THUNK*

“OWWWWWWWWW!”

*THUNK*

“AIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE…”

*THUNK*

“No more…”

*THUNK*

“Please stop…”

*THUNK*

“I’m begging…”

*THUNK*

As the kicking kept going, and Evil Glenn’s voice continued to climb into the higher ranges, I took my chance to leave.

As I passed the Guinness Book man making notes on a clipboard, I asked him what the previous record was.

“One.”

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Rehab Clinic

I was sitting in the hammock in the back yard reading the news. I noticed my hand tremble a bit as I turned each page. Well, what did I expect? It was only a little above freezing and there I was sitting a few inches above a snowdrift. (Cabin fever can make you do strange things at the beginning of March.)

Then an item caught my eye. It was an article about the opening of the latest Insta-Rehab Clinic® in my neighborhood. Part of a large chain of them stretching across the country.

I slowly closed the paper. This time, the shaking of my hands was not a result of the cold. I had a bad feeling about this.

As if on cue, my cell phone started ringing. I checked the caller-ID. *whew* It was only my Dad.

“Hi Dad,” I answered.

“Agent GEBIV.” The voice on the phone said. “We have a mission for you.”

“Harvey! What are you doing with my Dad’s phone!?” I yelled.

“I don’t have his phone,” was the answer. “I just have his caller-ID. You have no idea how handy this is when I want to call 900 numbers… but I digress.

“Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to find out what goes on in Evil Glenn’s Rehab Clinic.

“If you are discovered or killed, hey it’s no skin off my nose. I mean, they can’t even trace this call back to me. I am invincible! …er, I mean we will be forced to disavow all knowledge of your actions.

“Out of the kindness of our hearts, we won’t self destruct your new cell phone.”

Gee that was nice of him…

“However, your newspaper will self destruct in 5… 4… 3…”

I quickly wadded up the paper and threw it as hard as I could. Then with the same motion, flung myself behind the… hammock. Oh great. This is really going to protect me. I covered my head with my arms as best as I could and waited for the worst.

*KAAAAAABOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!*

…when I came to, I could see the hammock swinging slowly, without a singe. Unfortunately, I was now lying in a snow bank in the woods a good forty feet from where I had been crouched. A trail of broken branches led back to where my body had crashed through the stockade fence.

As I walked back through the debris and picked splinters out of my skin, I knew that it was once again time for another…

MISSION: IMPLAUSIBLE!
(Cue Theme Music)

I knew that I would need a disguise to get into the Insta-Rehab Clinic. Those places were known to only cater to the rich and famous. They wouldn’t take just anyone in off the street.

I dug through my closet, and was able to come up with a reasonable disguise that made me look like a relatively well know actor. (I can’t remember his name, but remember in the movie Princess Bride, when the main character confronted Prince Humperdink outside the fire-swamp? Remember the Prince’s chief henchman Count Rugen? That’s right, I impersonated the soldier-extra who was standing to his left.)

I drove over to the new Insta-Rehab Clinic®. I didn’t want them to recognize my Jeep, so I parked a few blocks away, and perfected my drunken stagger on the walk there.

At the door, I saw an Insta-henchman escorting out a young woman who, even to my untrained eye, was obviously going through withdrawal. “I don’t care how sick you are.” He growled as he threw her onto the sidewalk. “We don’t treat sit-com actresses here.”

Uh oh. I thought. This might be tougher than I expected.

Fortunately, my worries were unfounded. As soon as I walked into the lobby, the check-in guy and the henchman came running over. “I loved you in Princess Bride!” they both shouted in unison. Then following the whole “Jinx, Jinx. Buy me a coke/ double hits, no punchbacks” argument they had, I was finally able to check in.

The clerk was nursing a shiner and a Coke as he checked me in. He smiled knowingly when he saw me, with shaking hands, illegibly scrawl a signature at the bottom of the standard alcoholism form.. “I see that you’ve gone a little while without a drink.” He said. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix you right up. We have all of your credit information already, so let me lead you to where you’ll be staying.”

We walked down a large foyer, and he ushered me through a set of large double doors.

It was a huge room! The mini-bar was so big that it had an actual bartender! This was puzzling. Why would they put someone they thought was an alcoholic in a room with so much alcohol?

I looked around a little more and realized that I was standing in an actual bar! There was no one else in it at the moment besides the bartender and myself, but this was obviously no bedroom. Then I noticed someone quietly snoring in the far corner, and revised that. I could even see a restaurant through an archway at the other end of the counter.

The only conclusion I could come to at this point was that this Insta-Rehab Clinic was definitely not trying to cure people of alcoholism. And if the “Weight-Watchers All You Can Eat Buffet” sign next to the restaurant entrance was any indication, they weren’t trying to cure anyone of anything!

I knew that I would have to break into the office computers to get to the bottom of this. After muttering something to the bartender about needing to make room for more beer, I pretended to go looking for the restrooms, and slipped out of the bar.

A few minutes later, I was staring in frustration at the computer in the clinic’s main office. There was no way I was getting anything out of it. There was no way I was even going to be able to figure out how to turn it on! (Stupid Mac.)

I was defeated.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps in the hall outside. Someone jiggled a key in the lock. I looked around desperately! Just as the door started to open, I ducked behind a large, curiously plush object in the corner.

I heard two voices as the lights came on and I saw that I was hiding behind a five-foot tall stuffed penguin.

But that was nothing to the shock of realizing that one of the voices was Evil Glenn himself!

“But sir, I don’t understand.” Said the other voice, which I identified as the check-in clerk. “Could you explain again why we aren’t curing any of these people?”

“Oh, but we are!” exclaimed Evil Glenn. “We are curing them of the awful habit of having money that should belong to me.

“And do you know what I’m going to do with all of that money?”

“Um. No, sir.”

“That was a rhetorical question, you dolt!” Evil Glenn sneered. “I’ll use all of that lovely money that they’re giving me, and I’ll buy Bubba-the-giant-lobster’s carcass.

“And do you know what I’ll do with that lobster?”

“Cook it, sir?”

“No! …I mean yes,” sputtered Evil Glenn. “And then I’ll throw the largest lobster party that congress has ever seen. And that will get my Blog Tax Law passed.”

“Is that the one where they tax bloggers by every word they type?”

“Mwahahahaha!” laughed the Evil Bloglord. “And since I only type one or two words per post, I’ll be paying only pennies why they are paying through the nose! No one will ever be able to get as big as me! I’ll own the blogsphere forever! Heh! Indeed!”

“But sir,” the timid clerk said, “it’s taken you years to build all of these Insta-Rehab Clinics®, and it will be at least five more years until we break even. Plus, some of the Congressmen are allergic to shellfish. Wouldn’t it have been easier just to give the money right to the Congressmen in the first place?”

“What? I never thought of that!” he exclaimed. “Drat!”

He started muttering, and then told his lackey, “Leave me. I need some personal time with Mr. Opus."

I heard his footsteps getting closer, and then I remembered that I was hiding behind Evil Glenn’s stuffed penguin.

“AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!” I ran, screaming, from his office. But at least I knew what he was planning.

His Insta-Rehab Clinics® are all part of his intricate plan to continue to dominate the blogsphere!

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Government Contract

I was sitting at work, watching some customers try to figure out how the front doors operate (PUSH or PULL for those in Rio Linda) when static suddenly interrupted the radio station I was listening to.

The static faded away, and a voice with a familiar Wisconsin accent started speaking. And with his first words, I knew I was being dragged back in…

“Good evening, Agent GEBIV. We need your help, don’t-cha-know. Our intelligence has shown that the government is asking Evil Glenn to do something for them. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find out what the government has contracted Evil Glenn to do.

“As usual, you will be receiving no backup. And if you are discovered, we will of course disavow all knowledge of you or your actions.

“Go Packers!

“This message will destruct in 5… 4…”

I dove to the other side of the counter right before the radio vaporized itself.

*BOOM*

Oh man. That was MY radio, not the store’s… and I didn’t get the extended warranty either. What a lousy thing to do just ‘cause I couldn’t make it to the family re-union.

Fortunately, my shift was just ending. So when my relief showed up, I quickly went out the door without saying anything about the smoking crater that had been my radio. For I knew that it was once again time for another…

MISSION IMPLAUSIBLE:
(Cue theme music)

Since my breaking and entering skills were much better than my hacking skills, (and my blogless brother was busy moving into a new house) I decided to go right to Washington, D.C., rather than attempt to break into their computer systems from my home.

So I filled the Jeep with premium and headed down the interstate!

About half an hour later I was back home. (Forgot my tools) So, after looking over the checklist this time, I was off again!

Some time later, (I can’t believe I forgot to put a watch on the checklist) I was walking up to the White House. I talked to one of the security guards for a few minutes, and he was nice enough to direct me to the National Archives; where I was sure to find the records of Evil Glenn’s contract.

After spending an entire morning going through the records, I was unable to find any information about any contracts with Evil Glenn. There were all sorts of receipts for bribes and blackmail payments, but nothing about Evil Glenn doing something for the government. Everything that I could find was about Evil Glenn doing things to members of the government. And believe me, you don’t want to know… *shudder*

In fact, the only reference to Evil Glenn that I found that was less than a month old, was something mentioning a Congressional Hearing about “The Reynolds Originating Body Overwhelming Tic”.

I looked up at the ancient clock on the wall. Let’s see, the little hand is on the III and the big hand is on the IX and the skinny hand is spinning around and around and… ooh, dizy. *thud*

Eventually, I was able to figure out that the Congressional Hearing was starting in about an hour. (Give or take 15 minutes) So I ran over to the Capitol Building…

(A word of advice. Don’t run near any government buildings in Washington. Apparently, that looks really suspicious to the security people there…)

Once the beatings were done, they decided to let me go. Luckily for me, they’d had a busy day, and were too tired to hit me for much more than twenty minutes. So, now limping, I went the rest of the way to the Capitol.

I wasn’t too late. The Hearing was just starting. I found a seat in the gallery and settled in to watch and listen.

The first thing that I noticed was that all of the Congressional Aids were walking in a jerking motion. They appeared to have some problems with their joints.

Then the Speaker stood up and staggered to the podium. He was moving with the same spasmodic movements as the Aids. But instead of speaking, he placed a boom box on the dais, inserted a CD and pressed play!

Instantly the entire assembly erupted out of their seats! They started dancing around. But it was no ordinary dance! No. They were dancing THE ROBOT!

I fled in horror as it dawned on me what had happened. The government hadn’t contracted Evil Glenn to do something for them. They had contracted something from him!

THE ROBOT IS CONTAGIOUS!! BEWARE!!

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Protests

Ah, the groundhog has seen its shadow. Millions of dollars have been spent on candy and roses. Thousands who didn’t spend enough have slept on the couch for the week… And now a new holiday is coming. A day when we celebrate all that is good in the U.S.A.

A day of many sales.

A day when many (mostly government employees, really) get the day off, and most go shopping.

But don’t worry. I’ll still be at work.

And on this day when countless people are celebrating the men who helped forge this great nation, there is one other pastime that people practice.

The time honored protest.

Now we know what the left is going to be protesting, namely everything under the sun having to do with Republicans, the President, religion, and the blogsphere. (Hey, pretty good company we’re keeping there…)

But the real question is; What will Evil Glenn be protesting this President’s Day?

I feel that he will be protesting two major issues. First, the President’s signing into law the new Tort Reform bill. Sources inform me that when Evil Glenn witnessed the signing ceremony, he was heard to remark, “Where is all the fun of being a lawyer going to come from now.”

These sources also have said that Evil Glenn’s protest on this matter will be held early on Monday morning, and should be in the form of Evil Glenn marching on the Capitol Building pushing a large shopping cart full of money under a banner reading “Protect Our Shopping Rights!”

After that protest is finished, he plans on flying back down to Daytona, where he has plans to protest the NASCAR Racing Commission. This is over a dispute that has kept him out of the famous race for the last 5 years.

The head of NASCAR was asked about the dispute and replied, “Look, I don’t care how fast that Glenn guy is. We’re not letting him race at Daytona without a car.”

(And yes, I know that I stole the concept of the intro to this story from Harvey. So sue me.)

(I also got the idea for racing the Daytona 500 without a car from "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey". Watch the credit's at the end, and you'll get it.)

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Garbage

Harvey, over at the Alliance HQ was wondering the other day; just what would one find if one sifted through Evil Glenn’s garbage?

By purest happenstance, I had in my possession a sample of said trash. (The law states that once trash hits the curb, it is public domain… besides, you wouldn’t believe the stuff you can sell on e-bay.) This sample hadn’t yet been put up for auction, so I will share the contents with you.

Evil Glenn Trash Bag Inventory

1 carton eggs, empty
12 ziplock bags containing egg yolks
12 ziplock bags containing egg whites
4 boxes instant cake mix, empty (with the words “separate 3 eggs and fold into batter” highlighted)
- I wonder if he used the shells…
4 Sammy Sosa bobblehead dolls, broken, and covered in eggshell fragments
- I guess he did.

15 cartons Pall Mall cigarettes, unopened yet singed
1 letter, “R” (a 6 inch cardboard cutout, colored blue)
1 legal flier with “If you have smoked Pall Mall cigarettes, please send us a letter so that we may represent you in a class action lawsuit.” Highlighted
1 scrap of paper with “Oops, I think I may have misinterpreted this… have to check with the boys at the law firm.” stapled to the legal flier

1 computer mouse, crushed in a rat-trap
- I guess the Insta-Wife is trying to cut down on his computer time
1 computer keyboard, broken, with what looks like hair and blood imbedded in the keys
- I guess he didn’t take the hint…

That’s all that was in that bag. All of the other ones from that trash pickup were already sorted and put on e-bay. So if you want to see more, you’ll have to bid. :-)

(That is all)