PolkOut.com is jazz dancing!

Because we're baaaaaaaad.

                

 

This counts as last week's update.  I've  been busy moving back home, it's been a bitch, so I didn't get a chance to update.  And the server was down.  Well, it is down, but by the time you read this...it won't be down anymore...since you wouldn't be able to read it otherwise.  We've switched servers again, and now I'm paying for this sh!t.  It's not too expensive but any amount is more expensive than $0.  If you want to soften the blow for me a bit, buy an email address from me for $5...or $4, or whatever you're willing to pay.  Everyone'll know you're cool when they see you sent them an email from Sucker@PolkOut.com.

Anyway, about the comic: I've never actually solicited a hooker...yet.  I just felt like being a dick and decided to let the crazy sh!t spew out of my mouth.  F!cking with people is my new favorite pastime, seeing just how believable I can be when I say the most outrageous sh!t.  I guess I can't complain that people find me creepy anymore, seeing as I've convinced random strangers that I'm a sadomasochist who happens to be a convicted drug dealer and sex offender as well as a dedicated N*SYNC fan.

I saw Spiderman 3 and it was a pile of sh!t.  It felt like Sam Raimi didn't feel like trying anymore, or was too strung out from snorting cocaine off of hookers' asses in his giant swimming pool full of money--ala Scrooge McDuck--but not those sh!tty hookers you pick up off the street for a carton of cigarettes and a box of Lunchables (you wonder why they're so cheap until bam!  Penis.).  No, we're talking expensive ones, only recently dead or maybe even entirely alive.  But sh!t, I don't remember the last time a movie insulted my intelligence so much--what was that Venom bullsh!t?!

You know what would've been sweet?  Since the symbiote just fell out of the f!cking sky anyway, pretty much randomly, I'd have had it land in Uncle Ben's grave.  Yeah, f!ck Sandman and his unresolved story arc, I would've introduced Zombie-Venom Uncle Ben.  This crazy, decaying, rice-making, f!cked up monster who crawls back to Aunt May's house and seduces her with its long demon tongue (cunnilingus).  And then I'd have Peter walk in on Aunt May doing the nasty with zombie Uncle Ben, he freaks the f!ck out and forces himself to muster up the strength to kill his recently resurrected uncle.  Then Peter Parker could get all moody and depressed and the suit could graft itself to his skin and he can become douchebag Spiderman for reals.  And unlike Raimi, I'd actually show douchebag Spiderman doing sh!t Like indiscriminately killing criminals in ridiculously violent ways.  It'd be f!cking sweet and a helluva lot better than that sh!t I paid $11 to see. 

Speaking of zombies, 28 Weeks Later was actually a decent movie.  With super retarded ultra-violence, the likes of which Spiderman could've used.

Well, anyway, I'm home.  Doing a hell of a lot of nothing.  Watching cartoons, stuff like Swat Kats and Duck Dodgers.  Nick at Nite now has America's Funniest Home Videos reruns, which is freakin' terrific when you're under the influence of...anything.  They've only been showing the $100,000 episodes, with Bob Saget chilling with aliens and...balloons and stuff.  It's nuts.  I was thinking about other camera shows, like Candid Camera, Punked, the Jamie Kennedy Experiment, and there's this new show I saw an ad for, which I hear is already cancelled, called the Real Wedding Crashers--a total misnomer because it's got nothing to do with the movie at all--and I really think they don't go far enough.  I want an extreme camera show, where people are just f!cked with to the limit of their sanity.

Imagine a wedding, the bride looks at the groom, "I take you to be my lawfully wedded husband, for Richard or poorer--er..."

"Who the f!ck is Richard?!"

"I...I misspoke!  It was an accident!"

"YOU WHORE!"  And he smacks her with the back of his hand, fake blood packets exploding out of her face as she falls down.

"No!  Stop!  I'm pregnant!"  She screams.

"With whose child you f!cking whore?!!"  He lifts her up by her hair and punches her in the gut, another blood packet explodes at her crotch.  He reaches under her dress, pulls out some gelatinous goo and starts eating it, "TASTES LIKE A BASTARD!"  And he throws it at her face.

"NOOO!!!"  She starts weeping and desperately stuffing that goop back up her dress while the groom just keeps shouting at her and smacking her around, "WHO THE F!CK IS RICHARD?!!  IS THIS WHY YOU DIDN'T WANT THAT PRENUP?!!"

And after five minutes they turn to look at their guests, all of them stunned, silent, save for the loud crying of children, "YOU'RE ON CANDID CAMERA!"

Now that's good television.

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