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WHERE ALL RANK IS LOST

Friday, July 30, 2004

Ninjas are the Masters of all Forms of Combat

There is no terrain that a ninja is not master of. He climbs trees, crosses rivers, and breaches castles in pusuit of his quarry. Why then would it be unbelievable if a ninja were to penetrate our most sacred of places and leave with our most precious possessions? I say to you, it is not.

Carter returned from the bathroom after an apparent bout of morning sickness. He turned the corner to his office and took a step back in shock. His sanctum had been violated. Standing there amidst overturned dip cups, and piles of fraudulent paperwork was a ninja. His gleaming eyes showed that he was without fear, his jaw was set with determination, his taught body coiled like a snake ready to strike or flee. Cradled beneath his arm was the very object he had come to steal...a laptop computer. What secret government files attracted this rogue? What reward was worth the cost of discovery? "Why are you taking my laptop?!" Carter cried out to the filipino phantom. "Its my computer now. Besides, there was never an ECR card." the ninja replied. Without another word he darted from the room and leapt through a carefully concealed hole in the ceiling.

Further down the hall the ceiling panel in another office crashed to the floor stirring a cloud of drywall and asbestos. The room's occupants were immobilized by the sudden crash. This momentary inaction cost the stunned workers 2 more laptops as the bandit tore through the room leaving a trail of smoke as telltale trace of his passing. Sprinting down the hall the ninja saw a possible problem. Standing guard over the hall's only apparent exit was a behemoth. His feet were twice the size of the average man's, and his sloped forehead hinted at a certain primitive strength. "W'sup dwag?!" the evasive islander said. "W'sup ninja" the guardian grunted. Realizing that he was getting nowhere the ninja dove between the giant's legs, rolling to his feet. "WAIT! You didn't sign my roster!" the titan bellowed as he made the cumbersome turn to chase the invader. It was too late though...the ninja had dissapeared around a corner with a flash of smoke. The "Intel Ninja" had been born...sometimes legends are also ridiculous co-workers.

Featured Article: "Love Advice"
By: DoleMACK


Leftovers
I'll tell you how I do it. I leave some cold pizza out for the bitches. Then, while they're eatin' it...I pack that shit. Keeps 'em hungry, and FULL! Don't go claimin' that shit for your own, when you cram it - tell 'em Dolemack sent ya.

The Suicide Bomber
I call this one the suicide bomber. Just when I've penetrated your defenses, BOOM! I blow that shit! Some call it premature ejaculation. I call it "the Suicide Bomber." Clean that shit up bitch.

The Shoe Bomber
It takes a sophisticated playa to pull off the shoe bomber. First, get her real loose. I ain't talkin' fist that hoe, but slip something in her drink. Then, get her blindfolded and tied to the bed. Tease that shit till she'll agree to anything, then say you've got to get a drink. Grab her shoe and walk to the bathroom. Turn on the water, and shit in that hoe's shoe. Presto! You've got a shoe bomb. Then just go back and be the pimp you are and make sure she never forgets you. Just in case she does, when she puts her shoe on the next day, she'll always remember your ass. Mack!


Wednesday, July 07, 2004

SSP 9-11

Friends I write today to inform you of a work in progress. Everyone I'm sure in recent weeks has become familiar with the trucker hat wearing,sport coat sporting Michael Moore. Well of all people Michael Moore has inspired me to write my own twisted documentary. So watch what you say fuckers because I'll all of you bitches are going down. Well it doesn't matter what you say because I'll write whatever the fuck I want. If your wondering about the whole SSgt Saeger piece. I said fuck it. All of you sons of bitches over played my story before I even wrote it. Next thing I know Weant is telling all his bitches that Saeger is some kind of Kumite god. You guys are worse than a bunch of fat house wives watching Oprah and working nights at Toby's. I'm out bitches.

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