The Big Fat Internet Insanity Club...For God

      So, recently, I've taken to writing on a site called HubPages. Basically, it's a content site that pays you a portion of ad revenue generated by whatever shit you happen to write about. There are tons of sites like these and surprisingly, not all of them are hundreds of articles about "getting rich quick" or "how to pirate porno" or "how to get rich making porno about pirates". Instead, what I've found...are insane people. 

      Not just any insane people, the loopiest damned people on the planet--God/nerd...philosophers. Yes. That's a thing...as of right now. I totally fucking called it.

      So, now wait a minute. I know what you're thinking, you're thinking, "Elton, are you talking about the overly nice, Jesus lovin', know it all kids from school, that no one talked to, who were part of the bible study, get beat up a lot clique...that no one talked to?"

Hahaha...and yes, those kids.

      Except now, they write about philosophical gibberish and get all... "asshole weird" when you contradict them. By asshole weird, I mean, arrogant, geek awkward freaks that can't actually insult anyone without bringing laughter upon themselves. It's like watching a fully retarded kid dance.

      I find the nerd/God/philosophers (herein referred to as "Nerdosogoders") to be embolism inducing hilarious. And also remarkably scary, as they are like a cult. A laughingly pee pee inducing cult. They're one of the best I've found on the Internet. That includes "how to" mime videos.

All of them.

Ladies and gentlemen, the world's loudest mime,

 shows you how to jerk a gorilla off at the :25 mark.

      How I ran across the Nerdosogoder, who are "postmodern philosophy" nut bags I might add, was...well, how I always run across insanity on the Internet, during a break in between marathon porn sessions. What? I can't go all day you know. I'm no...super...jack...whack...off. I don't know where I was going with that. I can't jack off all day.

Using the greatest soundtrack ever made, 

this guy shows you how to feel the gorilla's balls.

      So, leaving titties behind, I was cruising HubPages, trying to get an idea of what I could write about, that didn't involve breasts, bigger breasts or training monkeys to steal, when, boom...I run into a virtual ass load of the weirdest mother fuckers, this side of weird mother fucking.

      A guy was rambling on and on about "absolute truth". He is, of course, a total douche'. Though, why wouldn't he be? He's A) On the anonymous Internet, B) A pretentious psycho and C) Madly in love with God. Short of a coat hanger, bent into the shape of a ray gun and a cape, he's the exact person I want to officiate my wedding. Though, he might be the type to willingly to eat a child...in the name of God. So, he's not catering.

World's hottest mime...jerking off a gorilla.

      Yes, I know, you're saying, "Elton, have you seen the internet lately? There's more crazy per ounce than a syphilis infected clown! And stop reading my thoughts and making me say things!"

I'd have to agree with you, about the syphilis clown...but, not about the saying and thinking. I like making you my puppet fictitious reader. You're so pliable and ripe for hosting. Now DANCE!

No dancing? Alright, fine. Back to the Nerdosogoders.

The crazy nut bag "absolute truth" tard...has followers! Well, hangers on that tout everything the guy spews as gospel. I...I can't explain it fully. You'd have to read the insanity for yourself.

His name is FatFist.

Now, if you don't feel like delving into his crazy ramblings. I'll sum up every conversation the guy has ever had with anyone...that isn't part of his nipple sucking congregation with this simple example: 

HIM

Explain to me how you would walk from your couch to your kitchen...AH, without using your feet, movement, walking, breathing or any other...fuckin' anything. Can't do it can you. Ha, you fuckin' loser! I WIN!

YOU

No, what? No...I don't under...what? You've taken every plausible way for me to...

HIM

Bahahahaha! You fucking suck! Religion...something...GOD! Showed you, bitch!

YOU

What the fuck? I don't know what just happened. You said things...then... 

Am I the only one who...what the...why? 

HIM

Boom. Winner, right here, mother fucker.

What else can I say? He's a bizarre fella. Though, I'd imagine anyone without friends or a girlfriend...or boyfriend...or social life...or happiness would be. Still, he's rife with entertainment, which is more than I can say for...oop...time to whack it again. Later!

Let's Do Some Hoardin'!

      You know what I love more than punching politicians while yelling foreign obscenities? Hoarders. They're humanities natural archivists...of shit absolutely no one wants. Somehow, via the new god we call television, I find myself continually being sucked into their atrocious world. A world of deceit, manipulation and the ability to collect boxes filled with shit the Salvation Army would reject for being out of style. Then, they cram those boxes into a two bedroom house with kids. Kids who proceed to carve out caves in it. Awesome.

Bless you, you disgusting mother fuckers.

      When I watch, I sit, with my eyes wide and mouth agape in an expression hovering between disgust and awe. I call it my "jizz face". I am engrossed by the sheer magnitude of denial, in some cases, and the massive volume of useless shit some of the "hoarders have. These poor people are sadly...insane. Which is fine by me. It doesn't take much "crazy" to make me smile. A mumbling bum on the street pinching his nipple and pissing himself is always good for a chuckle. Oh, come on now! I put on my best "poor guy" look on but, deep down, I'm laughing just as much as you. Nutty people are God's notice to humanity that we're not perfect, so, stop trying to be. When you see a whacked out bastard warning you about the mind control chemicals Jesus told him about in Twinkies, don't pity him. Instead, look him in the eyes and say, "Thank you, sir! You provide a service deemed necessary by the creator and you're doing it splendidly.", then, toss a Twinkie at him and run away haphazardly yelling, "Bomb!". Who says insane people should have all the fun. Afterward, you'll feel better, he'll run in freakish horror. Win. Win. As for hoarders, the amount of crazy varies among them, as it does in all of us. Again, you with that look. Everyone has a little crazy in them. Stop denying it! Sometimes you just have to wear your underwear on the outside, stand half naked on a corner and preach about the sanctity of Scooby Doo's balls. No harm in that. Just don't do it with your genitals. Never with genitals. It might seem like a good idea...but, do that at home...with a camera. That's what video hosting sites are all about.

    

He's...off.

       There are some that are cleanly overall, with the exception of the massive amount of shit they don't need, neatly stacked to the ceiling, everywhere. Some have a need to shit everywhere but the toilet. Still other's lose their pets in the mountainous collections of stuffed animals and shot glasses. Pets, that died long ago...forgotten. Then there are the special people, who hoard animals. They represent the bestiality of hoarding. 

Can you find the cat? 

Don't worry...

no one else can either...but, we smell the cat.

      Are these people deranged? Slightly. Should they be incarcerated in a mental health facility were collecting trash, bathing unsupervised and going pants-less is prohibited? No. These folks are like you and me. Just regular people who happen to like trekking over vast amounts of used coke bottles, ash trays and children's clothing to get to their bathrooms. Who are we to say that, that is wrong? Should we strip them of that freedom? No. Let them drown in a deluge of their own material excess. What are we communists?!

 You might see heaps of garbage covered in mouse turds...I see...freedom.

      They don't need therapists. What they need to do is put them in touch with the guys from American Pickers. They represent an entire industry built on the backs of watery brained hoarders. Who the fuck keeps a back lot of barns filled to the brim with old snow sleds, bikes and turn of the century blow up dolls? Hoarders that's who. Collecting is filling a shelf. Hoarding is filling farm land. Let's get these people some money via the only guys that can turn hoarding into money of Enron proportions. Who you say? Well, who rummages through that shit, to find shit, to sell to other hoarders that buy shit? The Amercian Pickers, motherfucker. Let's turn these hoarding bastard's sick and delusional disorder into cha-ching...money.

When they're not fucking...they're digging through that shit back there.