Captain Planet

Off the coast of a small land mass in the Antarctic, a fleet of oil tankers prepare to unload a few tons of unusable crude oil into the water. Along the fact that the general area is completely out of satellite visibility, the ships themselves are unmarked, thus, making the environmental attrocity about to happen completely untraceable. The crew moves casually with the belief that their actions will never be tied to the company or themselves- little do they know, just a few yards away, a team of earth's best do-gooders are observing and waiting for their attack; the Planeteers.

As Wheeler's ring carefully emits a slow amber glow to provide warmth for the rest of the group, he observes the tankers across the icy water through a pair of binoculars. “Looks like we're going to have to call on Captain Planet for this job,” he says, noting the fact that most of the crew members on the ship are armed with automatic rifles.

The five of them thrust their fists into the air and simultaneously call out their elements; Earth, Wind, Fire, Water, and Heart. Streams of light shoot into the air and intersect hundreds of meters in the sky, forming a brilliant assortment of colors. His form begins to take shape, and with a final eruption of white light, Captain Planet is summoned.

“From the power of all the elements combined, I AM CAPTAIN PLANET! I'm about to get REAL on these n*ggas!”

“Wait… what did he just say?” Kwame looks back at the other Planeteers.

Without wasting any time, Captain Planet immediately sets his attack on the lead the tanker as he sends waves of icy water crashing into it's side. Most of the crew is washed overboard except for one who immediatley begins to spray bullets wildly into the air. Captain Planet dodges them with ease, “N*gga please! You're wasting your time!”

“Okay… I'm sure he said the N-word this time. I should say something.”

As Captain Planet dodges the lone survivor's bullets, he is caught unaware of the second tanker sneaking up behind him. With guns cocked and ready, the crew men take aim. Almost too late, Captain America takes notice of the ambush transpiring behind him and yells to Kwame, “Yo Brotha! I need the power of Earth to make some tremors! Shake'em up n*gga! Shake’em up!”

“Brotha?”, Kwame pauses, “O..Okay Cap'… But before I do, I just wanted to say tha……”

“NOW KWAME!” Captain screams.

Kwame immediately lifts up his ring and begins to shake the ice surrounding the other tankers. Before any of the crew men can fire off a shot at him, the ships capsize into the water while safely containing it's deadly contents within the hauls.

Captain Planet joins the other planeteers. “Good shooting ma' brotha”, he says while holding his fist towards Kwame. Kwame reluctantly touches his fist to the Captain's.

“So, you had something you wanted to say, you can tell me anything! Go ahead ma' chocolately nig…”

“YOU CAN'T SAY THAT WORD! Or talk like that! You're not black!”

Captain Planet is taken aback, “Well, I am sorry you feel that way! But, I AM CAPTAIN PLANET! Forged by the five elements! One of them being Earth! An element from Mother Africa! So, you see Kwame, I am just as black as you.”

“Well, no, you're not. Your skin is more like a dull greyish blue. And your hair is green… And permed… I'm actually not sure what you are exac…”

“I have no time to argue! I must round up the rest of these crewmen before they drown. Gi, I need your help, I can see that most of these men are Japanese. I need you to tell them that they will not be harmed and that…”

“I'm not Japanese.”


Gi clears her throat, “I'm Chinese.”

“Oh, okay, I see what's going on here. You're all taking me for a little ride aren't you?! Trying to pull a fast one on old Cap'y P! I suppose the next thing you're gonna tell me is that Linka and Wheeler aren't white! And that Ma-Ti isn't Mexican!”

Ma-Ti interrupts his rant, “I'm not Mexican… I'm Indian.”

Captain Planet immediatley keels over and throws up a pool of green vomit on the floor. His body begins to shrink and dissipate into the air.

“What's happening?!”

“The negative energy from his racist thoughts and actions are taking away his powers! He's falling apart!”, Wheeler explains to the rest of the group.

“I'm Captain Planet! You can't even understand on my level… you… honkee… little…” Before he could finish another one of his rants, he disappears.

“I know were suppose to care for the environment and love every person on Earth regardless of the colour of their skin… But… Fuck Blue People!” The rest of the Planeteers nod their heads in agreement.




Tonight, we dine in hell!

I'm always perplexed by the show “Hell's Kitchen”. As far as reality-shows go, I think it's quite entertaining, but what confuses me is the restaurant “Hell's Kitchen” within the show itself. Before the dinner service, you get footage of lambourghinis, limosines, and other expensive vehicles pulling up to the restaurant's valet. EVERY dinner service is a full house comprised of customers that look quite rich and well-off– basically, people with the means to eat wherever the hell they want. WHO THE HELL ARE THESE PEOPLE AND WHY DO THEY CONTINUE TO EAT THERE?! Do they not understand what this show is about? 9 years it's been on television and it's no secret what these patrons are to expect for their dining experience.
Near the outskirts of La Brea Avenue- one of the more sheik and classy dwellings of Los Angeles- Lester Cummings and his wife Mandy Cummings decide where they wish to dine for the night. Being co-marital owners of the city's most successful Pool and Hot Tub retail outlet “Wet Cummings”, money and reservation times are no object or hinderance to them at all. The city's culinary offerings are their oyster.

Mandy: Lester dear, what ever shall we eat for dinner tonight? I'm famished.

Lester: Well, I've been really craving a Beef Wellington.

Mandy: Oh! Why don't we dine at The Royce, I hear their chef is renowned!

Lester: No. I don't want my food cooked by a chef.

Mandy: … oh, well who would you like it cooked by then?

Lester: I want my food cooked by an ex-convict or preferably a crack addicted single teen mother. The key is that they have no culinary experience at all.

Mandy: Oh, does someone like that cook a beef wellington particularly well?

Lester: No, the idea is that we wait for about an hour before our order finally arrives, and then, we'll see it is so poorly cooked that we'll have to send it back.

Mandy: Okay. So, we're looking for somewhere with good service then?

Lester: No. When I send my order back and complain about the wellington, I want to be yelled at by the owner… REALLY yelled at… Humiliated even.. Preferably by someone with a crass english accent who's not afraid to swear around children.

Mandy: Decor important to you?

Lester: I'm glad you asked. I want the front of the restaurant to feel inviting. I'm thinking; ominous red glowing lights. Oh, and I want bursts of flames that spontaneously combust right at the door's entrance, thus, making the door both the fire exit and fire hazard at the same time.

There is a moment of silence between the two before they're both struck by the same idea. They look into each other's eyes and simultaneously yell in a fit of joy:

Mandy/Lester: HELL'S KITCHEN!


To Love and Loathe: Part 1

PREMISE: So here's the idea; I take a picture from a random image generator that pulls it's source from instagram, twitter, tumblr, etc. I take one that stands out, and then, I get to work. Like the title suggests, I will proceed to switch between viciously insulting the picture to giving it a sincere and loving compliment. Do not take offense, this is an exercise in EXTREMES. Note: Upon loading each new segment, it will be open to a CONTEST in the comments section (See 'ABOUT' section for contest rules). Okay, enough talk… Let's do this.

Love: I am very impressed by your jaw line. You remind me of a young Reese Witherspoon.

Loathe: This picture shares more similarities to the movie 'Terminator' than you think. In Terminator, an assassin cyborg goes back in time to eliminate a young boy who would have grown to become a great General. In reality, if time travel existed, your mother would probably travel back in time to have an abortion.

Love: Your sunglasses are completely opaque, if I played against you in poker, I would not be able to read your facial features AT ALL, unless you clench your jaw.

Loathe: They say to never hit a man with glasses, but judging by all the finger prints on your lenses, I'm assuming your abusive boyfriend couldn't help himself.

Love: I admire a man who doesn't give into social norms like 'smiling for the camera'. You seem like a man who has much to smile about.


*CONTEST: Today is December 12, 2012. Leave in the comments box your own love or loathe comment! The contest will be open for a week, and at the end, I will choose my favourite comment. Reminder, it is a lot easier to Love than to Loathe… Be original (but also, try and match my taste 😉 ).
PRIZE: The winner will receive my own copy of “50 Shades of Grey” where within the pages, I will have it signed with my very first blog doodles AND a personal dirty limerick dedicated to YOU. I will also have a page created to the winners of my contests, and your name will be immortalized FOREVER.


“You were warned. You watched the video. You will die.” – In the darkness, Roland sits in the solace of his living room as the words resonate through his mind. It has been a week since he decided to watch the video; 6 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes since he received the call. He tries to tell himself that it was only a stupid urban legend that just happened to be popularized by a movie; a movie for heaven's sake! But telling himself that wasn't enough to shake the unmistakable feeling that something dire was about to happen; a curse that had loomed over him for days now.

The last three seconds ticked away on his watch, and then it came. The sudden appearance of static on the television would normally have startled him if he hadn't already expected it. A flash of static, a ring of light, and there she was. Time was up…


“Sweet heart, could you please point to the man that attacked you? Don't be afraid.”

She slowly nods her head at the Judge and lifts her finger towards the accused; Roland. A gasp of disapproval fills the courtroom.

With a disheartened sob, she quietly whispers, “I don't know why he attacked me like that. I did nothing to the man.”

“Oh! Oh hell no! That's how it went down to you?! That's how you see it?!” Roland couldn't restrain his outburst.

“Mr. Daines! You have been warned already! One more outburst and I will have just cause to hold you in contempt! But personally, I hope you do, just so I have more reason to throw a dirt bag like you in jail!” With a strike of his gavel, he looks back toward the young girl and urges her on, “So after he struck you in the face and kicked your ribs while you were down on the floor, you mentioned that he repeatedly asked you a question? What was that question?”

“Yes sir, he…” her lip begins to tremble, “he asked me how… how I…”

“You can do it, tell us sweet heart.”

“He asked me 'how I like them apples' ”

Another gasp of disapproval fills the courtroom. Roland shoots up from his seat again, “I was in danger! I said that in the heat of the moment! I don't even know what that means! I saw it in a movie damn it!”

“Mr. Daines, seeing that you are incapable of following orders or maintaining the simple conduct of being a decent human being, you might as well take the stand and tell us yourself why you deserve to be put away.”

Roland quickly takes the seat next to the judge and faces the courtroom pleading, “I don't even know why I have to explain myself again, but like I said, my television turned on by itself, and that little girl came out of the box and attacked me!” he reiterates with urgency, “SHE CAME OUT OF THE FREAKIN TV!”

A shout comes from the back of the audience, “So what!? I once saw a man cut a woman in half!”

Another shout, “You tell him Miguel!”

“Damn straight! And then he put her back together!”

“Tell em' who it was Miguel!”

“Criss Angel son! That ma'facka cray!” At that, the courtroom erupts in wild applause.

It takes at least 7 strikes of the gavel for the Judge to regain order again, “You were saying, she attacked you? Tell us Mr. Daines, how did this young lady attack you?”

Roland hesitates for a second, “Well, she didn't so much attack me as she walked… she walked slowly towards me.”

“She walked towards you, and that prompted you to punch her in the face?”

“Well it sounds bad if you put it that way! But look at her! She has long black hair! It was covering most of her face! And…” he hesitates, “well, she's Japanese.”

Another gasp of disapproval is then followed by Miguel's booming voice over the room, “Aww hells no! That's racist! This a straight up cracka ass cracka!”

“Tell 'em Miguel! Tell it like it is!”

“We didn't land on Plymouth rock! Plymouth rock landed on us!” And at that, another eruption of wild applause overtakes the room.

This time, the Judge allows the frenzy to continue until it naturally dissipates on it's own.

“Mr. Roland Daines, the overwhelming evidence against you finds you guilty of 3 charges of assault. On behalf of the State of Texas, I sentence you to death!”

Nothing about the past 2 weeks seemed real to Roland, yet it was happening. Two guards escorts him by each arm out of the courtroom. As they approach the door, the guards tighten their grip as both the little girl and Roland squeezes through the exit. As Roland comes within ear shot, she says to him, “I told you. I told you that you'd die!” She giggles to herself.

“For the love of… Did anyone hear that!?”



Judge: Actually. Ya, I heard that (the judge is standing right behind the two).

Miguel: I heard that too! (he shouts from across the room)

Little Girl: Uhhh… You all heard that?

Miguel: Bitch, you yelled that shit out loud.


The cost of his heroics had begun to take a toll on him as he noticed the pain in his knees starting to seep deep into his bones like a cold sharp knife. Miles of rough terrain added to the pain, but he knew, he knew with every instinct in his mind that every second he gave into rest, she would slip further from his grasp, from his saving. There was no time to slow down, no time to get lazy. He will run and continue to run. As much as it hurt, he'd also jump, and jump with perfect form- less he give opportunity to those damn demons of the abyss to kill and end his pursuit. Fist in the air, left leg extended forward, back foot pointed to the ground; perfect form.

“I'm coming sweetie, hang in there… I'm coming” he whispers to himself as he musters every ounce of strength to propel himself forward across the field.


Slamming both feet into the grass, he grinds himself to a halt. It was only a matter of time before he'd see them. Creatures of the abyss, death incarnate, henchmen of pure evil…. Fucking turtles.

“Let's do this.”

Before they even knew he was there, he was in the air, and like a thousand times before, his trajectory would make his landing pad their demise. Under his feet, their shells crush as the soft bodies inside flatten into a nothingness. Again and again, he launches himself into the air and down again. They are everywhere.

A wave of primal release takes him over as he finishes off the last one screaming into the air, “AAAAARRGH!”

“What the fuck! Honey! Honey! Get the kids! This guy's lost it!”

Screams of panic erupt as families across the park frantically try and gather their belongings. Mario shakes his head from his murderous daze and observes the chaos around him. He catches the arm of a mother running past, “No need to panic! I have everything under control!”

She stares at him with fearful eyes and trembles quietly, “You, you just killed that entire family of turtles!”

“Ya! Damn straight! You're welcome!”

“You crushed them… In cold blood”

“Mame, I understand you are afraid. They would have killed us all! But don't you worry, I'm a plumber!”

“I… I don't know what that's suppose to mean!”

“They would have killed you! Killed all of you! Don't you see!? They're his henchmen! KOOPA! KOOPA's henchmen! He has the princess!”

The woman's husband grabs his wife's arm, “You leave her alone! I've called the police! They'll be here any second now!”

Mario nods with excitement, “Yes! Call the police! We need back up! This whole park is infested with those damn….HeeeeeAAAaaaaah!” – the word he was going for was “henchmen” before 30,000 volts of electricity surges through his body. The policeman behind grabs him by his red cap, slams him to the ground and proceeds to search his pockets.

“Wadda' we got here Sanchez?”

Officer Sanchez takes the clear ziploc bag from Mario's pants and holds it into the air for his partner to see, “Looks like this freak is juiced up on shrooms and… these star-shaped things.” He further examines it, “Yup, it's acid.”