Saturday, March 30, 2013

Bumpkin Industries

Lucinda's gettin' some sun.
We here at the newly-formed Bumpkin Industries want to be the answer to all your Bumpkin needs: now and forever.  Please allow me to introduce myself.  I go by the name the Bald Vegan on this blog, but I'm currently merely vegetarian and not eating cheese, pizza, ice cream, and anything that has egg in it.  My downfall lately has been milk chocolate: especially Reese's peanut butter cups.
But I digress, I am the vice-president of Bumpkin Industries.  The president, and CEO, of Bumpkin Industries is a groundhog named Bumpkin.  Those of you who are in the know understand how a groundhog could run a multinational corporation while planning an attack on the humans for control of the world.  You see, she's got these superpowers...
The sky is the limit for Bumpkin Industries.  As long as we can get off our lazy duffs enough, Bumpkin Industries is liable to become an industry leader in the world of industry.  Please walk with us, hand by hand, into the cornucopia that is the future.
In Bumpkin's infinite wisdom, the full range of Bumpkin-inspired paraphernalia with ultimately unfold right before everyone's eyes.
"Hey, schmucko.  Did you get a date yet?"  Bumpkin asked me.
"No," I had to admit.
"Hey, Lucinda and Sloopy, he's been sending a poop-load of messages to human women on Plenty of Fish, and no one's even responded to any of them."
All 3 groundhog sisters laughed.
"I'll get a date, Bumkpin.  You'll see."
"Yeah, right.  If I use my superpowers to help you, maybe you could get a date.  But without the use of superpowers, forget it buster brown!"
"I don't like the way this is going.  Now I'm worried that you'll use your superpowers against me, to keep me from getting a date.  I just can't win around here."
"Stop crying, you big baby.   You're like over 40 years older than me; grow up already."
"Sorry, Bumpkin.  You're right."
"If you want, I could use my powers to get you a date.  I can turn women into brain-dead zombies that will obey your every command."
"That sounds nice, Bumpkin, but I'd like to get dates on my own steam."
"Have it your way.  It could take years for you to get a date: good luck, buster."
"Thanks Bumpkin."

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Holy Asteroids, Part Deux: Kickin' Asteroids.

This is Lucinda on St. Patrick's Day 2013.
Once we had packed snacks and water for the trip, Bumpkin created the life-sustaining bubble of the sort we usually use for space travel.  As usual, it will provide us with all the protection we may require: both as an outer tough wall while effortlessly maintaining the Earthly balance of gases, temperatures, and climates that we Earthlings are used to.
We took off.  We pretty much teleported right into orbit.  It's the kind of speed that Bumpkin can work with; she's amazing.  Especially when you consider that she's a groundhog; although, she's also the possessor of some of the most incredible superpowers to be bestowed upon anyone: let alone a groundhog.
Phoosh!  Bumpkin fired one of her fireballs of destruction at a nearby asteroid: direct hit!  It exploded into tiny pebbles: success!  The resulting fragments were clearly too small to ever do any damage to Mother Earth.  Bumpkin saw the results, and in the next moment, she hit another asteroid with a fireball.  It also detonated into pebbles.  She was gettin' some real work done, yes sir.  When nobody else can do nuthin' about it, sometimes the strong need to step up and mind the stopgap.  Pow!  A third asteroid was reduced to rubble by Miss Bumpy.
"Look at that big-ass one," Bumpkin told us.  We looked at the gigantic asteroid she was pointing at with her left front paw.  It was far away, a safe distance, but it was massive.  It was more than a city killer; it looked like a country killer.  Bumpkin flung a huge fireball at the mammoth asteroid.  It took a few seconds to get there; then it tore that humongous asteroid apart with a spectacular explosion.
"You nipped it in the bud, Bumpkin," I said.
"Of course.  That used to be a giant space rock that's just gonna keep floating around in space: always posing a future threat.  Now, thanks to one of my specially-tailored fireballs, it's nothing but billions and billions of tiny, practically weightless pebbles."
"On behalf of all Earthlings, please accept our heartfelt thanks.'
"Yeah.  That and 5 bucks will get me a coffee at Starbucks."
"Should I try to get out the word that you did this?"
"Do whatever you want to do.  Just realize that if you tell people a talking groundhog destroyed some asteroids today with fireballs that came out of her left front paw, then be my guest.  They'd just think you're loony tunes."    

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Holy Asteroids!

Bumpkin was very young in this one.
"Phooey!" said Bumpkin.  "I'm tired of hearing about all these darn near misses with asteroids or meteors, or whatever the heck they're called!  Since, as usual, no one else is stepping up to do anything about it, I'll have to put in some time!  Who wants to come with me to reduce some asteroids to rubble?"
Sloopy and Lucinda cheered; I did not.
"You're going too, buster," Bumpkin said to me.
"Wow.  All of a sudden: deja vu."
"If all humans are as unappreciative as you are, then you all shall deserve to be slaughtered big time when I finally make my big move.  I'm taking you safely through space; not even Micheal Jordan can do that."
"I am so glad and grateful I've been to the moon, Mars, and Uranus.  I especially liked Uranus."
"I like Uranus too," Bumpkin replied.   We all had a good chuckle.
"I'm just tired of wearing adult diapers and pooping myself during bowel-wrenching space travel."
"Speak for yourself, poopypants.  It doesn't bother my bowels at all."
"With all due respect, Madame Bumpkin, you have very powerful forces protecting you and giving you a multitude of superpowers.  I bet you don't even feel pain."
"What is pain?"
"Something you don't feel.  And you're probably lucky to not feel it; especially since you have rapid automatic self-healing powers. "
"Yes, it's good to be me; for I shall be king of the world soon," said Bumpkin.
"Well, they say that the meek shall inherit the Earth."
"Who the heck says that?"
"People."
"That figures.  Lots of people are dumb."
"I must admit you are correct.  And the fact that you, who's a groundhog, said such a truism is all the more astonishing."
"Carpe diem.  Now, let's go bust up some asteroids!"
This time, we all cheered.  Why not?  It did sound like fun, and I'm sure we'd be safe, but I'm worried I'll poop my pants again.  What the heck?  I'll make it a personal challenge.  My goal is a noble one; I wish to not poop my pants today. 

TO BE CONTINUED...

Sunday, March 10, 2013

I've Been to Uranus!

Take me to Uranus, and let me play among the stars.
Once again, thanks to Bumpkin, and adult diapers, I did not soil my car seat as we traveled to Uranus.  We don't need the car.  I don't start it up or anything.  It's all under Bumpkin's control, and she essentially teleported my car, her, Sloopy, Lucinda (Bumpkin's sisters), and I to Uranus.  I checked my watch, it took 42 seconds for us to travel to Uranus.
Uranus is a barren, godforsaken planet.  There was no sign of life.  It was freakin cold until Bumpkin turned up the heat in the temporary life-supporting bubble that she creates for us every time we travel through space.
"Ah, Bumpkin, could you change me?"
"Look buster, I told you.  I've changed you for the last time.  The adult diapers were my brilliant idea.  After that, I hereby retired from changing your poopy drawers. "
"I know, but it would be so easy with your powers."
"You've got 2 hands, buster.  Change yourself," Bumpkin suggested.
"Yes, ma'am.  Where's the diaper bag?"
"You didn't bring it?"
"No, Miss Bumpkin."
"Well, I didn't bring it.  It's not my responsibility; it's yours."
"Oh great.  I guess I can't change now."
"You got no one to blame but yourself.  Hey!  Sloopy!  Lucinda!  He pooped in his pants, and he forgot his diaper bag!"  Bumpkin said.
Sloopy and Lucinda laughed hard and loudly.  Soon, all 3 groundhog sisters were rolling around, their little bodies racked with laughter, on the surface of Uranus.
Bumpkin stopped laughing long enough to say, "Didn't you have that big-ass burrito yesterday?"
"Yes," I had to admit.
Now the sisters were convulsed with laughter.  I don't care that I'm the butt (no pun intended) of the joke.  I just love hearing my girls laugh: on Uranus to boot. 
We explored Uranus.  Bumpkin took some geological samples that she intended to test.  Who knows?  Perhaps Bumpkin will build a colony for animals or humans on Uranus.  She has so much power and imagination.  She's capable of fixing nearly every imaginable, and conceivable, problem.  I'm so lucky to have her as a friend.  I just wish she'd change me and remember to bring the diaper bag.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

I've Been to Mars!

Bumpkin got us to Mars in 35 seconds flat.
"Who wants to go to Mars?" is how it started.  Who asked that bold question?  Bumpkin.  Sloopy and Lucinda cheered: I did not.
"You're going too buster," Bumpkin informed me.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied.  I don't want to give her any more reasons to launch any more fireballs at my backside.  She has toasted my buns.
"You know what to do," Bumpkin said to me.
"Put on an adult diaper."
"Exactly."
"Will do, Mistress Bumpkin."
"Although, this time, we'll be travelling in your car.  My hope is that you won't want to soil the seat of your own car, so maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to hold it in and not poop your pants, for a change, during space travel."
"We shall see my princess."
"And pack some food, Jackamoe."
"Yes ma'am."
When we were all ready, we went downstairs and got into my car.  I've driven Bumpkin around quite a bit, but I think that's the first time I ever had all 3 of the sisters in my car at once.  It might be the first time I ever had Sloopy and Lucinda in my car.  Holy crap!  I better bring some sort of a litter box: even if it's just a temporary one.  I don't know how long it will take us to get to Mars, but knowing Bumpkin, and how her superpowers just keep getting stronger and stronger, it probably won''t take us long.  She pretty much has the power of teleportation, so I estimate my car will be landing in Mars about 42 seconds after the Ford Escort is launched: perhaps sooner, but certainly not later that that.
Yes, I checked my watch, and it took us 35 seconds.   Bumpkin has, as usual, manufactured an environment for us within an invisible bubble that allows us to breath and function as we normally do.  They're right; it is red.  It's definitely red.  It's also dusty and rocky balboa. 
"I want a freaking sandwich," Bumpkin declared.
Why the heck not?  Right now, Lebron James is the toast of the town.  First of all, he's no Michael Jordan, he may be one day, but he certainly isn't yet.  The point is, let's see Lebron safely transport a Ford Escort to Mars from the Earth (obviously) in 35 seconds.
By the way, I didn't poop my pants this time!

Just in Case

if you're here from twitter because i stopped posting, i ask that you NOT ask twitter or anyone to do a wellness check on me. i wouldn&#...