Michael and others: "The Fall of the House of Usher!"

[NancyGene]

https://ew.com/tv/the-fall-of-the-house-of-usher-trailer-edgar-allan-poe/

The story is modernized, but still has Mr. Poe whispering its name. The series starts on Netflix October 12.

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:b28bf9ac-13bd-4964...@googlegroups.com:

> https://ew.com/tv/the-fall-of-the-house-of-usher-trailer-edgar-allan-po

> e/
>
> The story is modernized, but still has Mr. Poe whispering its name.
> The series starts on Netflix October 12.

I read this years ago. I'm certainly interested in this, if someone
reminds me I won't exactly be unhappy.

Anyone want to do a "Fall of the Shithole of Dreckweasel" collaboration?

I'll start!

"Standing downwind from the lair of the Dreckweasel on Forestside Drive,
it was a foul-smelling and cheerless area as it was three weeks before
the government check arrived. All day long Douchebag Willie was fixing
the mud on the floor so it didn't cave in for the third time that day."

PS: Apologies to Poe and Erskine Caldwell.

--
"I've been writing poetry for nearly fifty years, rest assured it's a
poem, Pendragon." - Will Dockery demonstrating why he's a douchebag.

[NancyGene]

On Tuesday, September 12, 2023 at 9:28:14 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpuppet wrote:
> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
> news:b28bf9ac-13bd-4964...@googlegroups.com:
>
> > https://ew.com/tv/the-fall-of-the-house-of-usher-trailer-edgar-allan-po
> > e/
> >
> > The story is modernized, but still has Mr. Poe whispering its name.
> > The series starts on Netflix October 12.
> I read this years ago. I'm certainly interested in this, if someone
> reminds me I won't exactly be unhappy.

We'll watch and let you know! A good story is adaptable to many times and places.

>
> Anyone want to do a "Fall of the Shithole of Dreckweasel" collaboration?
>
> I'll start!
>
> "Standing downwind from the lair of the Dreckweasel on Forestside Drive,
> it was a foul-smelling and cheerless area as it was three weeks before
> the government check arrived. All day long Douchebag Willie was fixing
> the mud on the floor so it didn't cave in for the third time that day."
>
> PS: Apologies to Poe and Erskine Caldwell.

The wind recoiled from the lair of Dreckweasel and turned around and went south. Death lived on Forestside Drive, along with chicken bones, non-running cars and weeds. The roof and the floor of the dwelling were frequently on the same level. Cats screamed and mated. People did too.

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:abfb8ac2-fb71-403e...@googlegroups.com:

> On Tuesday, September 12, 2023 at 9:28:14 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpuppet

> wrote:
>> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> news:b28bf9ac-13bd-4964...@googlegroups.com:
>>
>> > https://ew.com/tv/the-fall-of-the-house-of-usher-trailer-edgar-allan
>> > -po e/
>> >
>> > The story is modernized, but still has Mr. Poe whispering its name.
>> > The series starts on Netflix October 12.
>> I read this years ago. I'm certainly interested in this, if someone
>> reminds me I won't exactly be unhappy.
> We'll watch and let you know! A good story is adaptable to many times
> and places.
>>

>> Anyone want to do a "Fall of the Shithole of the Dreckweasel"

>> collaboration?
>
>>
>> I'll start!
>>
>> "Standing downwind from the lair of the Dreckweasel on Forestside
>> Drive,
>
>> it was a foul-smelling and cheerless area as it was three weeks
>> before the government check arrived. All day long Douchebag Willie
>> was fixing the mud on the floor so it didn't cave in for the third
>> time that day."
>
>

> The wind recoiled from the lair of Dreckweasel and turned around and
> went south. Death lived on Forestside Drive, along with chicken
> bones, non-running cars and weeds. The roof and the floor of the
> dwelling were frequently on the same level. Cats screamed and mated.
> People did too.

I do not know how it was — but, with my first sight of the blue tarp, a
sense of heavy sadness filled my spirit. I looked at the scene before me
— at the hovel itself — at the ground around it — at the painted
beaverboard walls of this dump — at its filthy windows — and at a few
dead weeds — I looked at this scene, I say, with a complete sadness of
soul which was no healthy, earthly feeling.

There was a coldness, a sickening of the heart, in which I could
discover nothing to lighten the weight I felt. What was it, I asked
myself, what was it that was so fearful, so frightening in my view of
the Shithole of The Dreckweasel? This was a question to which I could
find no answer.

(Heavily stolen fron the original.)

[NancyGene]

> (Heavily stolen from the original.)

I stopped my bicycle with my mummified cat in the basket beside the crumbling old house, on the edge of a dark and filthy street. There, I could see reflected in the lone street light a clear picture of the dragged bodies, and of the dilapidated shed and its mostly boarded-up windows. I was now going to spend weeks of my life that I would never get back in this house of no talent, this house of losers, this odoriferous hovel.

The house's owner was named Mildred, who evidently had died years ago but was still listed as the owner. She may still be in the house…somewhere. Her two sons were worthless leeches and lived with her before her death and beyond that. Neither I nor any neighbors had seen the brother or the mother in years, but her checks were cashed every month.

(Modified from the original)

[Ash Wurthing]

Oooh, odoriferous... how Poe-ish.

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:db22ef48-9f00-44e2...@googlegroups.com:

I was now going to spend several weeks in this house of sadness —
this house of gloom. Its owner was named Dreckweasel T. Douchebag. We
had been friends on Usenet and we both pretended that Bob Dylan could
sing. A letter from him had reached me, a wild letter which demanded
that I reply by coming to see him. He wrote of an illness of the body —
of a sickness of the mind and a failure to sing in key — and of a desire
to see me — his best and indeed his only friend that didn't suspect what
a failure he always was. It was the manner in which all this was said —
it was the whining in it — which did not allow me to say no. Plusd I was
a homeless man with little but a bicycle, so any port in a storm.

Although as we had been together online, I really knew little about
my friend. I knew, however, that his family, a very old one, had
descended from a line that only inbred hillbillies would. I had learned
too that the family tree had no branches. The name had passed always
from failure to failure, and when people spoke of the “House of
Douchebags,” they included both the family and the family home.

I really believed that around the whole house, and the ground around it,
the air itself was different. It was not the air of heaven. It rose from
the dead, decaying trees, from the walls cats pissed on, and the quiet
lake. It was a sickly, unhealthy air that I could see, slow-moving,
heavy, and gray. It was if old douchebags and heavily used enema kits
had decayed along with several thousand used condoms.

[Poe is going to drag me to hell for this.]

[NancyGene]

“Shaking off from my clothes what must have been a million webs from Joro spiders, I looked more carefully at the squalid shack itself. The most noticeable things about it seemed to be the great smell of human feces and an old blue tarp on the roof, weighed down by ancient leaves from trees that were no longer alive. None of the walls had fallen, but I only counted three, and the plastic siding appeared to be in a condition of advanced snap, crackle and pop. Perhaps the building inspector’s eye would have discovered the gap in the front of the hellhole, a crack pipe making its way from the top to join a dozen other drug paraphernalia.”

[Ash Wurthing]

We're tailoring this for Dockery and crew's reading comprehension? *gd&r*

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:8de9a5b6-c666-4ee3...@googlegroups.com:

>> â
> �”

>> of a sickness of the mind and a failure to sing in key — and of a
> desire
>> to see me — his best and indeed his only friend that didn't suspe
> ct what
>> a failure he always was. It was the manner in which all this was said

>> â
> �”

The shed I spotted into was very small and decrepit. The plastic windows
were filthy. Only a little light, red in color, made its way through the
scratched plastic, and served to warn the cockroaches that the denizens
may be stirring. Dark blue paint covered upon the walls. The broken
chairs chairs had been long since given up trying to support so many
obese douchebags. Roach-filled, unsold chapbooks lay around the room,
but could give it no sense of life. I felt sadness hanging over
everything. No escape from this deep cold gloom seemed possible.

(This could be another really terrible Seagal movie!)

[NancyGene]

"Noticing these foul and backwoods things, I biked over a short weedy driveway to the foul house. A bum sleeping on the sidewalk stole my bike, and I entered the warped and cat-sprayed door. A meth head, of unhealthy and drunken step, thence conducted me, in silence, through the 784 sq. ft. hovel to the bedroom of his master. Much that I encountered on the way contributed, I know not how, to heighten the vague sense of perversion of which I have already spoken. While the objects around me --while the water stains on the ceilings, the newspaper and tin foil coverings on the walls, the Nelly-blackness of the floors, and the phantasmagoric armorial Perky which rattled as I strode, were but matters to which, or to such as which, I had been not been accustomed in polite society--while I hesitated not to acknowledge how unfamiliar was all this --I still wondered to find the bathroom."

"In one of the 3 rooms, I met the physician of the family, a Doctor NancyGene. Her countenance, I thought, wore a mingled expression of high cunning and disgust. She grabbed me with trepidation and took my temperature. The meth head now threw up on the bare floor and ushered me into the presence of Dreckweasel."

(Maybe Michael wants to publish this updated short story? We could use the Muscogee County Tax Assessor's pictures.)

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:d3c698ba-e354-46cd...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> — at the hovel itself — at the ground around it ï
> ��€
>> > ”
>> >> > at the painted
>> >> >> beaverboard walls of this dump — at its filthy windows ï
> ��€

As I entered the room, Dreckweasel attempted and failed to stand up from
where he had been lying and met me with a warmth which at first I could
not believe was real. A look, however, at his face told me that every
word he spoke was a complete lie.Dreckweasel had failed again.

We sat down; and for some moments, while he said nothing, I looked at
him with a feeling of sad surprise. Surely, no man had ever before
changed as Little Will Dreckweasel iof the Douchebag Klan had! Could
this be the The One True God of Failure of my early years? He had
gray-white skin; eyes sqinting and full of evasiveness; hair of great
brillo pads — a face that was not easy to forget. And now the increase
in this strangeness of his face had caused so great a change that I
almost did not know him. The horrible white of his skin, and the strange
dullness in his eyes, surprised me and even made me afraid. His hair had
been allowed to grow, and in its rats nest it did not fall around his
face but seemed to lie upon the air. I could not, even with an effort,
see in my friend the semblance of a simple human being.

(Pendragon has taste and using this as an extreme contrast is a bad
idea, even as an example of the failure that is the Dreckweasel.)

[NancyGene]

Pendragon may even hate us and the computers we rode in on!

“In his disgusting manner, I saw at once, foul changes came and went; and I soon found that this resulted from his attempt to quiet a very great fart. I had indeed been prepared for something like this, so I held my nose. His actions were too quick and I had a choking spell.

He began to sing, slow and off-key, quickly changed to a mumble. It was in this strange manner that he spoke of the purpose of my visit, of his desire for me, and of the deep pockets he expected me to give him. He told me what he believed to be the nature of his illness. It was, he said, the Dreckweasel family sickness, venereal disease, and one from which he could not hope to grow better without cigarettes and alcohol — but it was, he added at once, a new infection which he could soon piss away. It showed itself in a number of strange facial tics. Some of these, as he told me of them, disgusted me but he said I just didn’t understand them; perhaps the way in which he told me of them while trying to kiss me added to their strangeness.

He suffered much from a sickly increase in writing his wretched poetry; he could eat only the cheapest tacos; all whores smelled too strongly for his nose; his eyes were tiny and rheumy; and there were few sounds that were not his own voice that he could listen to. A certain kind of super narcissism was completely his master. “I shall die without being famous,” he said. “I shall die! I must die and I’ve never made it anywhere, let alone in New York.”

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:2a16c65c-3e5b-4306...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> ï
> ��€

He said, however, that much of the gloom which lay so heavily on
him was probably caused by something more plainly to be seen — by
the long-continued illness — indeed, the coming death — of a dearly
loved disability check for his brother, Sir Dirtnap — his only financial
support. Except for himself, he was the last member of his family on
earth, not counting the unsupported brats. “When he dies,” he said, with
a sadness which I can never forget, “when he dies, I will be the last of
the old, old family — the House of Douchebag.” While he spoke, Sir
Dirtnap (for so he was called) passed slowly through a distant part of
the room, and without seeing that I was there, went on. I looked at
Dirtnap with a complete and wondering surprise and with some fear — and
yet I found I could not explain to myself such feelings. My eyes
followed his cigarette smoke. When he came to a door and it closed
behind him, my eyes turned to the face of brother Douchebag — but he had
put his face in his hands, and I could see only that the fat fingers
through which his tears were flowing were whiter than ever before.
The illness of Sir Dirtnap had long been beyond the help of doctors. He
seemed to care about nothing. Slowly his body had grown thin and weak,
and often for a short period he would fall into a sleep like the sleep
of the dead. So far he had not been forced to stay in bed; but by the
evening of the day I arrived at the house, the power of his destroyer
(as Doucheweasel told me that night) was too strong for him. I learned
that my one sight of Sir Dirtnap would probably be the last I would
have.

I spotted a lead pipe nearby and the visage of the Town Drunk and
suddenly understood. The power of the disability check was too tempting.

(There's a reason burning brinstone is used in hell. It's to cover up
the stench of the Dreckweasel clan.)

[NancyGene]

"For several days following, DirtNap’s name was not spoken by either Dreckweasel or myself; and during this period I was busy with efforts to get my friend to look for work. We painted and read together; or listened, as if in a dream, to the awful Conley Brothers music he played. And so, as a warmer and more passionate friendship grew between us, and he pulled my elbow and stared at me frequently, I saw more clearly the uselessness of all attempts to bring employment to a mind from which only comic books sprang, spreading upon all objects in the world abject stupidity and illiteracy. I shall always remember the hours I spent with the master of the House of Dreckweasel. Yet I would fail in any attempt to give an idea of the true character of the things we did together. “The love that dare not speak its name.”

There was a strange greasy film over everything. The crude paintings which he produced made me sick, and it was clear that he had no talent in any area. To recite any of his poems is beyond the power of written words and against God and Nature. If ever a man had no original ideas, that man was Douchebag Willie Dreckweasel.

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:64a884b4-88b6-4c04...@googlegroups.com:

> On Saturday, September 16, 2023 at 9:20:27 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpuppet
> wrote:
>> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> news:2a16c65c-3e5b-4306...@googlegroups.com:

>> > On Friday, September 15, 2023 at 7:39:30 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpup

> pet
>> > wrote:
>> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> news:d3c698ba-e354-46cd...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> > On Friday, September 15, 2023 at 3:34:25 AM UTC, Cujo DeSock
> pup
>> > pet
>> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> news:8de9a5b6-c666-4ee3...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> > On Wednesday, September 13, 2023 at 7:58:16 PM UTC, Cujo
>
>> >> >> > DeSockpuppet wrote:
>> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> news:db22ef48-9f00-44e2...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> > On Tuesday, September 12, 2023 at 11:16:18 PM UTC, Cuj
> o D
>> > eSo
>> >> > ckp
>> >> >> > uppet
>> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> >> news:abfb8ac2-fb71-403e...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> >>

>> >> >> >> >> > On Tuesday, September 12, 2023 at 9:28:14â€Â

I have spoken of that inbred condition of the senses, which made
most music of Douchebag painful to hear. The notes he could sing were
very few. It was this fact, perhaps, that made the music he performed so
different from most music. But the putrid state of his playing could not
be explained except by complete lack of talent.


The words of one of his songs, called “Zorro,” I have most tried to
forget. In it I thought I saw, and for the first time, that Douchebag
Willie knew very well that his lone neuron was gone forever. This
travesty told of a something completely incoherent.

(Dare I frighten off Benders by including The Great One in this?)

[NancyGene]

All Hail Benders! All Hail the Fearless Benders!

> --
> "I've been writing poetry for nearly fifty years, rest assured it's a
> poem, Pendragon." - Will Dockery demonstrating why he's a douchebag.

“In it I thought I saw, and not for the first time, that Dreckweasel knew very well that his mind was completely shot. This song told of a caped and masked man who wore clown shoes — up on a smoke-filled stage — in a cross-dressing bar, where all was cheap and drunken, and the air was stale. In the bar were two whores and a Handy-Woman while people in that bar could hear awful music and screeching and could see up skirts — photographed — moving away from the masked man."

"The bar door was of the cheapest materials, stained with urine and red and green taco sauce, through it came other pissbums whose only duty was to praise and bump the masked man. But a shoe polish bearded person came and said “One of your best,” the song continued, and now those who enter the bar see through the windows, in a red light, Sarah Donkeytits, huge boulder shapes that move to any dollar; while through the door, now colorless, a ghastly river of dirtymikes, laughing but drunk as skunks, passes out forever. Our talk of this song led to another strange idea in Dreckweasel’s mind—a cross-cultural project!”

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:f3168d7e-273f-4089...@googlegroups.com:

> On Sunday, September 17, 2023 at 9:23:22 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpuppet
> wrote:
>> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> news:64a884b4-88b6-4c04...@googlegroups.com:

>> > On Saturday, September 16, 2023 at 9:20:27 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockp

> uppet
>> > wrote:
>> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> news:2a16c65c-3e5b-4306...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> > On Friday, September 15, 2023 at 7:39:30 PM UTC, Cujo DeSock

> pup
>> > pet
>> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> news:d3c698ba-e354-46cd...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> > On Friday, September 15, 2023 at 3:34:25 AM UTC, Cujo DeS

> ock
>> > pup
>> >> > pet
>> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> news:8de9a5b6-c666-4ee3...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> >> > On Wednesday, September 13, 2023 at 7:58:16 PM UTC, Cu

> t o
>> > f t
>> >> > he

>> >> >> >> >> from failure to failure, and when people spoke of the �€
> œH

>> >> > and I’ve never made it anywhere, let alone in New York.ï
> ��€

>> >
>> >> >
>> >> He said, however, that much of the gloom which lay so heavily on
>> >> him was probably caused by something more plainly to be seen —
> by
>> >
>> >> the long-continued illness — indeed, the coming death �€
> ” o
>> > f a dearly
>> >> loved disability check for his brother, Sir Dirtnap — his only
> fi
>> > nancial
>> >> support. Except for himself, he was the last member of his family
>> >> on
>

>> >> earth, not counting the unsupported brats. “When he dies,ï
> ��€

> “In it I thought I saw, and not for the first time, that Dreckweasel
> knew very well that his mind was completely shot. This song told of a
> caped and masked man who wore clown shoes — up on a smoke-filled
> stage — in a cross-dressing bar, where all was cheap and drunken,
> and the air was stale. In the bar were two whores and a Handy-Woman
> while people in that bar could hear awful music and screeching and
> could see up skirts — photographed — moving away from the masked
> man."
>
> "The bar door was of the cheapest materials, stained with urine and
> red and green taco sauce, through it came other pissbums whose only
> duty was to praise and bump the masked man. But a shoe polish bearded
> person came and said “One of your best,” the song continued, and
> now those who enter the bar see through the windows, in a red light,
> Sarah Donkeytits, huge boulder shapes that move to any dollar; while
> through the door, now colorless, a ghastly river of dirtymikes,
> laughing but drunk as skunks, passes out forever. Our talk of this
> song led to another strange idea in Dreckweasel’s mind—a
> cross-cultural project!”

The chapbooks which, for years, had fed the sick man’s mind — were, as
might be supposed, of this same wild set of delusions. Some of these
books Dreckweasel sat and studied for hours. His chief delight was found
in reading one very old book, written for some forgotten church, telling
of the Watch over the Dead.

At last, one evening he told me that Dirtnap was alive no more. He
said he was going to keep his body for a time in one of the many
ashtrays inside the walls of the building. The deranged reason he gave
for this was one with which I felt I had to agree. He had decided to do
this because of the nature of his illness, because of the strange
interest and questions of his doctors, and because of the great distance
to the mountains where members of his family were pitched over a cliff.

Dreckweasel carried the picture of Dirtnap on the ashtray and took it
along to its resting place. The shed in which we placed it was small and
dark, and in ages past it must have seen strange and bloody scenes. The
flimsy door was of beaverboard, and because of its cheap construction
and lack of hog fat on the hinges made a loud, hard sound when it was
opened and closed.

As we placed the ashtray of Dirtnap in this room of horror I saw for the
first time the great likeness between brothers. Dreckster told me then
that they were twins — but they had been born in different years. This
made no sense but that is consistent with the incoherence of
Dreckweasel.

(This really shouldn't be made into a graphic novel, but if The Town
Drunk does it, I'll read it.)

[NancyGene]

But we draw the line at it being sold at a bait shop!

I learned that Dirtnap’s legs had been hanging out of his mother’s private parts for several years before he had actually been born. He was slow and small when living, but now was just dust in an ashtray. We did not long look down at Dirtnap’s transmogrified form, for cat piss and cigarette smoke filled our noses. There was still a little color in Dirtnap’s ashes and there seemed to some semblance of lips under a red wool beanie. Dreckweasel said that what I was smelling must be my upper lip.

We poured Dirtnap into a empty peanut butter jar and returned to the rooms above, which were hardly less trashed than the rest of the dilapidated house. And now a change came in the smallness of Dreckweasel’s mind. He went from room to room with a stumbling step. His face was, if possible, fatter and baggier than before, and the pus in his eyes was green and red like taco sauce. The mumbling in his voice seemed to show the greatest insanity. At times he sat looking at himself in the mirror for hours, as if seeing some matinee idol no one else could see.

I felt his tiny hands, slowly but certainly, moving over me; I felt that his crazy ideas were affecting my own mind. As I was trying to find a bed late in the night of the seventh or eighth day after we placed Dirtnap into the peanut butter jar, I experienced the full power of Dreckweasel’s unwashed body. Sleep did not come — while the cats yowled. My mind fought against feeding the strays. I tried to believe that much, if not all, of what was wrong with Dreckweasel was due to the mold, alcohol, drugs, fat and venereal disease that he had.

He broke wind in the other room. But my efforts to justify Dreckweasel's piteous state were not successful. He was to blame for his difficulties and for losing all his life. A revulsion I could not stop filled my body and nose, and disgust caught my heart. I sat up, looking into the shabbiness of my room, listening — I do not know why — to sounds of the Conley Brothers and HandySandy which came when the storm was quiet and I could hear YouTube. A feeling of horror lay upon me like an obese hooker. I put on my clothes and began shambling to the apple grove.

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:459d4c2a-02f0-460b...@googlegroups.com:

> On Monday, September 18, 2023 at 11:52:01 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpuppet
> wrote:
>> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> news:f3168d7e-273f-4089...@googlegroups.com:

>> > On Sunday, September 17, 2023 at 9:23:22 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpup

> pet
>> > wrote:
>> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> news:64a884b4-88b6-4c04...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> > On Saturday, September 16, 2023 at 9:20:27 PM UTC, Cujo DeSo

> ckp
>> > uppet
>> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> news:2a16c65c-3e5b-4306...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> > On Friday, September 15, 2023 at 7:39:30 PM UTC, Cujo DeS

>> >> >> >> >> >> ï
> ��€

>> >> >> >> >> >> ï
> ��€

>> >> >> the long-continued illness — indeed, the coming death ï
> ��€

>> The chapbooks which, for years, had fed the sick man’s mind â
> �” were, as

I had been walking for a very short time when I heard a light step
coming toward my door. I knew it was Willie of House Douchebag. In a
moment I saw him at my door, as usual very filthy, but there was a wild
laugh in his eyes Even so, I was glad to have his company. “And have you
not seen it?” he said. He hurried to one of the windows and opened it to
the storm. The force of the entering wind nearly lifted us from our
feet. It was, indeed, a stormy but beautiful night, and wildly strange.
The heavy, low-hanging clouds which seemed to press down upon the house,
flew from all directions against each other, always returning and never
passing away in the distance. With their great thickness they cut off
all light from the moon and the stars. But we could see them because
they were lighted from below by the air itself, which we could see,
rising from the dark lake and from the stones of the house itself.

“You must not — you shall not look out at this!” I said to Douchebag,
as I led him from the grimy window to a broken chair from his last
interview. “This appearance which surprises you so has been seen in
other places, too. Perhaps the cat piss is the cause. Let us close this
window; the air is cold. Here is one of the chapbook stories you like
best. I will read and you shall listen and thus we will live through
this fearful night together.” The old chapbook which I had picked up was
one written by a fool for fools to read, and it was one that Douchebag
wrote. It was, however, the only one without the pages stuck together.
He seemed to babble quietly."

(I can see this drama is attracting new readers!)

[NancyGene]

We have millions of readers all over the world. Some are in love with you, Cujo. Do not pull their elbow or stare at them.

"Here I stopped reading, for it seemed to me that from some very distant part of the crumbling house sounds came to my ears like those of which I had been reading. It must have been this synesthesia that had made me notice them, for the sounds themselves, with the shitstorm still increasing, were nothing to stop or interest me. They were similar to sounds heard at an open call of a karaoke bar. I continued the ill-written story, and read how the fatman, now entering through the long-broken and warped door, discovers a strange and terrible animal of the kind so often found in a place such as Shitkickerville. He bites it and it falls, with such a cry and lyric that he has to close his ears with his hands. Here again I stopped, unable to bear the shrieking sound."

"There could be no doubt (not the musical group). This time I did hear a distant banging/shrieking/mumbling sound, very much like the cry of an animal in heat or which tried to accomplish a bowel movement. I barely controlled my gag reflex so that Dreckweasel would see nothing of what I felt. I was not certain that he had heard the sound, even though he had ears 10 times the size of normal men. He had clearly changed his dirty pants into another pair of dirty pants. He had slowly moved his chair, which collapsed, and he was helpless like a whale on the floor. I did see that his lips were moving as if he were speaking to himself, which he did a lot because no one else wanted to listen to him. His head had dropped forward and his tongue lolled to the side of his mouth into his crumb-encrusted beard, but I knew he was not asleep, for his tiny eyes were open and he was moving his enormous body from side to side, trying to get up using the downed-elephant maneuver."

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:4120b434-e28f-4652...@googlegroups.com:

> On Tuesday, September 19, 2023 at 7:22:02 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpuppet
> wrote:
>> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> news:459d4c2a-02f0-460b...@googlegroups.com:

>> > On Monday, September 18, 2023 at 11:52:01 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpu

> ppet
>> > wrote:
>> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> news:f3168d7e-273f-4089...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> > On Sunday, September 17, 2023 at 9:23:22 PM UTC, Cujo DeSock

> pup
>> > pet
>> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> news:64a884b4-88b6-4c04...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> > On Saturday, September 16, 2023 at 9:20:27 PM UTC, Cujo D

> eSo
>> > ckp
>> >> > uppet
>> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in

>> >> >> >> news:2a16c65c-3e5b-4306...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> > On Friday, September 15, 2023 at 7:39:30 PM UTC, Cujo
> DeS
>> > ock
>> >> > pup
>> >> >> > pet
>> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> >> news:d3c698ba-e354-46cd...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> >> > On Friday, September 15, 2023 at 3:34:25 AM UTC, Cu
> jo
>> > DeS
>> >> > ock
>> >> >> > pup
>> >> >> >> > pet
>> >> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> >> >> news:8de9a5b6-c666-4ee3...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> >> >> >> > On Wednesday, September 13, 2023 at 7:58:16 PM U
> TC,
>> > Cu
>> >> > jo
>> >> >> >

>> >> >> >> >> >> > DeSockpuppet wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> news:db22ef48-9f00-44e2...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> > On Tuesday, September 12, 2023 at 11:16:18 PM
> UT
>> > C,
>> >> > Cuj
>> >> >> > o D
>> >> >> >> > eSo
>> >> >> >> >> > ckp
>> >> >> >> >> >> > uppet
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> news:abfb8ac2-fb71-403e...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >>

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> > On Tuesday, September 12, 2023 at 9:28:14âï
> ��‚

>> >> >> >> ï
> ��€

(Of course Cujo has groupies. He rules!)

"It was as I feared! The shirt moved on its own across the room but
instead of sweeping the floors of dirt, it was somehow depositing more.
It wrapped itself around the Dreckweasel as he began caterwauling about
women at truck stops, child support and cheap steak dinners."

"Blue tarps started to flouresce and the cockroaches scattered towards
the entrance, as if giving myself a hint to get out as well. Anyone
smarter than a Douchebag would take the hint and follow the vermin and I
almost did. But i was transfixed by the apparition of a fat hillbilly
with a guitar playing the same three chords over and over. Suddenly a
sign saying "Theater of the Mind" appeared with a female hand making
jerking motions."

(If Nelly shows up, the foundations may cave in!)

[NancyGene]

Cujo is handsome and rich.

>
> "It was as I feared! The shirt moved on its own across the room but
> instead of sweeping the floors of dirt, it was somehow depositing more.
> It wrapped itself around the Dreckweasel as he began caterwauling about
> women at truck stops, child support and cheap steak dinners."
>
> "Blue tarps started to flouresce and the cockroaches scattered towards
> the entrance, as if giving myself a hint to get out as well. Anyone
> smarter than a Douchebag would take the hint and follow the vermin and I
> almost did. But i was transfixed by the apparition of a fat hillbilly
> with a guitar playing the same three chords over and over. Suddenly a
> sign saying "Theater of the Mind" appeared with a female hand making
> jerking motions."
>
> (If Nelly shows up, the foundations may cave in!)

Don't let her spread her knees apart.

The words on the sign had just appeared when I heard clearly, but from far away (which is not a contradiction in terms although the house was only 784 square feet of decaying building materials), a loud screeching sound, accompanied by one drum — as if something of iron had indeed fallen and couldn’t get up, or as if a prison door had closed. (I heard a ghastly voice saying “Joey.”) I lost control of my bowels completely, and jumped up from my chair before I soiled myself.

Dreckweasel still sat, although his fat arms, legs and jowls jiggled on their own from side to side. His beady little eyes were trying to look at his cheap mobile phone but he was too poor to afford reading glasses although he had 20/200 vision. I rushed to his chair before he broke that one too. As I placed a mummified cat on his shoulder, I felt that his whole body was trembling; a five-for-a-dollar smile touched his lips; he spoke in a deep-south drawl, in one syllable words and no sentences, for there were no subjects or verbs in Dreckweasel’s speech patterns, and a smoke and drug-ravaged voice as if he did not know I was there and could not care less about anything but himself.

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:513266ca-740d-49f7...@googlegroups.com:

> On Wednesday, September 20, 2023 at 3:53:35 PM UTC, Cujo
> DeSockpuppet wrote:
>> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> news:4120b434-e28f-4652...@googlegroups.com:

>> > On Tuesday, September 19, 2023 at 7:22:02 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpu

> ppet
>> > wrote:
>> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> news:459d4c2a-02f0-460b...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> > On Monday, September 18, 2023 at 11:52:01 PM UTC, Cujo DeSoc

> kpu
>> > ppet
>> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> news:f3168d7e-273f-4089...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> > On Sunday, September 17, 2023 at 9:23:22 PM UTC, Cujo DeS

> ock
>> > pup
>> >> > pet
>> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in

>> >> >> >> news:64a884b4-88b6-4c04...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> > On Saturday, September 16, 2023 at 9:20:27 PM UTC, Cuj

> o D
>> > eSo
>> >> > ckp
>> >> >> > uppet
>> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in

>> >> >> >> >> news:2a16c65c-3e5b-4306...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> >> > On Friday, September 15, 2023 at 7:39:30 PM UTC, Cu

>> >> > ï
> ��€

“Yes!” he said. “I heard it! Many minutes, many hours, many days
have I heard it — but I did not dare to speak! We have put Dirtnap,
still living, in the shed! Did I not say that my senses were too
strong? I heard his first movements many days ago — yet I did not dare
to speak! Oh, where shall I run?! Dirtnap is coming — coming to ask why
I put him in the cheap cardboard coffin too soon. I hear his footsteps
in the shed. I hear the heavy breathing of his cigarette-ravaged lungs.”
Here he jumped up and cried as if he were giving up his soul: “I tell
you, he now stands at the door!!”

The flimsy door to which he was pointing now slowly opened. It
was the work of the rushing wind, perhaps — but no — outside that
door a shape did stand, the squat, slouching figure, in its
grave-clothes, of the Dirtnap of House Douchebag. There were cigarette
ashes upon his filthy shirt and pants, and the signs of his pathetic
efforts to escape the shed were upon every part of his obese form. For a
moment he remained trembling at the door; then, with a low cry, he fell
heavily in upon brother Douchebag; in his wheezing last breaths, as he
died at last, he carried him down with him, down to the floor and
kniocking over the cigarette-filled ashtray that was to be Dirtnap's
final resting place before being spilled off a mountain.

(This may never end, but never forget that Dreckweasel always fails.)

[NancyGene]

Who could forget that, when it is reinforced dozens of times a day? We see that there are some continuity problems with the double-authored "Fall of the House of Dreckweasel." We will have to meet to resolve those issues. Are you available to meet at the top of the Empire State Building or under the clock at the Astor Hotel?

"I rushed from the ghastly sight of a resurrected DirtNap Dave. I mushed from the House of Dreckweasel. I ran, skipped, jumped and rolled. The shitstorm that was DirtNap Dave was around me in all its strength as I crossed the Riverwalk, where there were hundreds of beggars and bums."

"Suddenly a wild hair moved along the ground at my feet, and I turned to see where it could have come from, for only Dreckweasel’s butthole and the House were behind me. The light was that of the full moon, or maybe a gibbous moon, or a blue moon, or a super duper moon, or a red moon, or a harvest moon, or flower moon , which was now shining through that crack in the foundation and walls of the House of Dreckweasel, or maybe it was a butt crack which I thought I had seen when I first saw the House."

[Ash Wurthing]

A sudden wind's bluster, bursting into the sanctuary, bemoans the nearing of the Midnight chime. Strips of ragged draperies' remains whip about and rubbish skitters among rancid corpse-rot strewn about the room.

Whoops, wrong story >.<
Looks like a great project you guys got here... as you can see, I would love to write about decrepit matters, but I compiling all my AYoS work-- 67 pieces. There's actually more but I consolidated fragments to reach the magic number.

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:6652e8bc-c242-4510...@googlegroups.com:

> On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 11:29:38 AM UTC, Cujo DeSockpuppet
> wrote:
>> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> news:513266ca-740d-49f7...@googlegroups.com:
>> > On Wednesday, September 20, 2023 at 3:53:35 PM UTC, Cujo
>> > DeSockpuppet wrote:
>> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> news:4120b434-e28f-4652...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> > On Tuesday, September 19, 2023 at 7:22:02 PM UTC, Cujo DeSoc

> kpu
>> > ppet
>> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> news:459d4c2a-02f0-460b...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> > On Monday, September 18, 2023 at 11:52:01 PM UTC, Cujo De

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> > On Tuesday, September 12, 2023 at 11:16:18ï
> ��€

>> > ¯PM
>> >> > UT
>> >> >> > C,
>> >> >> >> > Cuj
>> >> >> >> >> > o D
>> >> >> >> >> >> > eSo
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> > ckp
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> > uppet
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> in
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> news:abfb8ac2-fb71-403e...@googlegroups.com
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> :
>
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >>
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> > On Tuesday, September 12, 2023 at

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> > 9:28:14Ã
> ¢

>> >> >> >> >> >> > shall die without being famous,” he said. �€
> œ

>> >> >> >> >> >> the old, old family — the House of Douchebag.ï
> ��€

>> >> >> laugh in his eyes Even so, I was glad to have his company. �€
> œAn

>> > d h
>> >> > ave you
>> >> >> not seen it?” he said. He hurried to one of the windows and
> op
>> > ene
>> >> > d it to
>> >> >> the storm. The force of the entering wind nearly lifted us from
>> >> >> our feet. It was, indeed, a stormy but beautiful night, and
>> >> >> wildly
>
>> >> >> strange.
>> >> >
>> >> >> The heavy, low-hanging clouds which seemed to press down upon
>> >> >> the
>
>> >> >> house,
>> >> >
>> >> >> flew from all directions against each other, always returning
>> >> >> and
>
>> >> >> never
>> >> >
>> >> >> passing away in the distance. With their great thickness they
>> >> >> cut
>
>> >> >> off
>> >
>> >> >> all light from the moon and the stars. But we could see them
>> >> >> because
>> >
>> >> >> they were lighted from below by the air itself, which we could
>> >> >> see, rising from the dark lake and from the stones of the house
>> >> >> itself.
>> >> >>

>> >> >> “You must not — you shall not look out at this!ï
> ��€

"The vermin and cats escaping the wreckage made for a hard slogging. I
suspected the roaches were actually the foundation. Suddenly a wild
light moved along the ground at my feet, and I turned to see where it
could have come from, for only the shithole shack and its darkness were
behind me. The light was that of the full moon, of a bloodred moon,
which was now shining through that break in the front wall, that crack
which I thought I had seen when I first saw the squalor. Then only a
little crack, it now widened as I watched. A strong wind came rushing
over me — the whole face of the moon appeared. I saw the great walls
falling apart. There was a long and stormy shouting sound — and the deep
black lake closed darkly over all that remained of the House of
Douchebag."

"This was just in time because the property tax assessor had stopped by.
The outraged neighbors, complete with pitchforks, torches and a Spic and
Span-filled firetruck cheered loudly. Even the homeless drunks cheered
the development. Suddenly the last surviving meber of the House of
douchebag appeared and exclaimed "Fear not, Hogbottom is around the
corner and we've engaged all the best talent Shadowville has to offer!
Poetry readings, music and the best pickles ever!"

"To the horror of all, the shed still stood, protected by the bluest of
tarps."

(You didn't think I'd end this, did you?)

[Ash Wurthing]

The horror... the horror...

[NancyGene]

> the development. Suddenly the last surviving member of the House of

> douchebag appeared and exclaimed "Fear not, Hogbottom is around the
> corner and we've engaged all the best talent Shadowville has to offer!
> Poetry readings, music and the best pickles ever!"
>
> "To the horror of all, the shed still stood, protected by the bluest of
> tarps."
>
> (You didn't think I'd end this, did you?)

We wanted to give you the honors anyway, but we think that there's a Director's Cut:

"The Shed appeared not like a Home Depot Tuff Shed, but like a house of cigarette packages that had come back from beyond the ashtray. Every 30 minutes, it cried out "Fag!" which we knew was Olde English/Deep South/Shitkickerville terminology for Camels (not the animal, but the smokes). The Blue Tarp saluted the sky, which was not Blue or Red or Yellow or Green or Purple, but not there because it was dark and the Shed was positioned where the Moon don't shine."

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:915e586a-c55f-4879...@googlegroups.com:

> On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 7:10:35 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpuppet
> wrote:
>> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> news:6652e8bc-c242-4510...@googlegroups.com:
>> > On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 11:29:38 AM UTC, Cujo DeSockpu

> ppet
>> > wrote:
>> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in

>> >> news:513266ca-740d-49f7...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> > On Wednesday, September 20, 2023 at 3:53:35 PM UTC, Cujo
>> >> > DeSockpuppet wrote:
>> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> news:4120b434-e28f-4652...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> > On Tuesday, September 19, 2023 at 7:22:02 PM UTC, Cujo De

> Soc
>> > kpu
>> >> > ppet
>> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> news:459d4c2a-02f0-460b...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> > On Monday, September 18, 2023 at 11:52:01 PM UTC, Cujo
> De
>> > Soc
>> >> > kpu
>> >> >> > ppet
>> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> >> news:f3168d7e-273f-4089...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> >> >> > On Sunday, September 17, 2023 at 9:23:22 PM UTC, Cu

> jo
>> > DeS
>> >> > ock
>> >> >> > pup
>> >> >> >> > pet
>> >> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in

>> >> >> >> >> >> news:64a884b4-88b6-4c04...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> >> >> > On Saturday, September 16, 2023 at 9:20:27 PM UT

> C,
>> > Cuj
>> >> > o D
>> >> >> > eSo
>> >> >> >> > ckp
>> >> >> >> >> > uppet
>> >> >> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> news:2a16c65c-3e5b-4306...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> > On Friday, September 15, 2023 at 7:39:30 PM U

> TC,
>> > Cu
>> >> > jo
>> >> >> > DeS
>> >> >> >> > ock
>> >> >> >> >> > pup
>> >> >> >> >> >> > pet
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> news:d3c698ba-e354-46cd...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> > On Friday, September 15, 2023 at 3:34:25 A

> M U
>> > TC,
>> >> > Cu
>> >> >> > jo

>> >> >> >> > DeS
>> >> >> >> >> > ock
>> >> >> >> >> >> > pup
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> > pet
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> news:8de9a5b6-c666-4ee3...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> > On Wednesday, September 13, 2023 at

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> > 7:58:16ï
> ��€

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> > shall die without being famous,” he said. ï
> ��€

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> ï
> ��€

>> >> >> >> >> >> The words of one of his songs, called “Zorro,ï
> ��€

>> >> >> >> laugh in his eyes Even so, I was glad to have his company. ï
> ��€

>> >> Here he jumped up and cried as if he were giving up his soul: �€
> œI

We can always do a "The Fall of the Shed of Douchebag".)

[NancyGene]

How about "The Tell-Tale Douchebag?" Anyway, do you want to compile the different chapters of "The Fall of the House of Douchebag/Dreckweasel" or do you want us to? We are sure that Michael is anxious to publish this special take on a classic.

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:3d6ec999-f497-47e4...@googlegroups.com:

> On Saturday, September 23, 2023 at 6:18:25 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpuppet
> wrote:
>> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> news:915e586a-c55f-4879...@googlegroups.com:

>> > On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 7:10:35 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpup

> pet
>> > wrote:
>> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> news:6652e8bc-c242-4510...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> > On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 11:29:38 AM UTC, Cujo DeSoc

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> > On Friday, September 15, 2023 at 7:39:30 P

>> >> >> >> >> > up, looking into the shabbiness of my room, listening ï
> ��€

>> >> >> Here he jumped up and cried as if he were giving up his soul: ï
> ��€

1. "The Tell-Tale Douchebag" works for me. Excellent suggestion. Poor
Dirtnap.

2. Compile away. You're much better at editing than I am.

3. Maybe tackle "The Silence of the Douchebags" or similar later. The
idea of a Benders figure leading around the Fail-Kooks is too juicy to
not do.

[NancyGene]

The TTD it is for our next literary outing. Do you want to start? True, poor Dirtnap, born a retarded dwarf into the Douchebag Family. How much worse could it get? It isn't even the middle ages, where he could hope to be tossed up in the air in a blanket. Douchebags don't have blankets.

>
> 2. Compile away. You're much better at editing than I am.

Will do. We will have to address the lack of continuity, but you will have approval anyway. Do you want this to be "The Fall of the House of Douchebag" or "The Fall of the House of Dreckweasel?" And, technically, the house is Mildred's (and her dogs).

>
> 3. Maybe tackle "The Silence of the Douchebags" or similar later. The
> idea of a Benders figure leading around the Fail-Kooks is too juicy to
> not do.

Douchebags are never silent, though. Unless they are eaten, but who would want to eat that, even with fava beans and a nice chianti? However, Benders can be a character in any narrative--perhaps he could silence a douchebag?

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:44d86281-c035-4c1e...@googlegroups.com:

> On Saturday, September 23, 2023 at 7:22:48 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpuppet
> wrote:
>> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> news:3d6ec999-f497-47e4...@googlegroups.com:

>> > On Saturday, September 23, 2023 at 6:18:25 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockp

> uppet
>> > wrote:
>> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> news:915e586a-c55f-4879...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> > On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 7:10:35 PM UTC, Cujo DeSock

> pup
>> > pet
>> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> news:6652e8bc-c242-4510...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> > On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 11:29:38 AM UTC, Cujo De

> Soc
>> > kpu
>> >> > ppet
>> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in

>> >> >> >> news:513266ca-740d-49f7...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> > On Wednesday, September 20, 2023 at 3:53:35 PM UTC, Cu

> jo
>> >
>> >> >> >> > DeSockpuppet wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in

>> >> >> >> >> news:4120b434-e28f-4652...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> >> > On Tuesday, September 19, 2023 at 7:22:02 PM UTC, C

> ujo
>> > De
>> >> > Soc
>> >> >> > kpu
>> >> >> >> > ppet
>> >> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> >> >> news:459d4c2a-02f0-460b...@googlegroups.com:
>> >> >> >> >> >> > On Monday, September 18, 2023 at 11:52:01 PM UTC
> , C
>> > ujo
>> >> > De
>> >> >> > Soc
>> >> >> >> > kpu
>> >> >> >> >> > ppet
>> >> >> >> >> >> > wrote:
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> news:f3168d7e-273f-4089...@googlegroups.com:

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> > On Sunday, September 17, 2023 at 9:23:22 PM U

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> > 3:34:25ï
> ��€

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> >> earth, not counting the unsupported brats. �€
> œ

>> >> >> >> >> >> >> manï
> ��€

>> >> >> >> was the work of the rushing wind, perhaps — but no ï
> ��€

Well, we can do anything we want to parody the title. I'd suggest the
idea is to make the original work distinguishable from the proposed
title. With that in mind, "The Silencing of the Douchebags" or even "The
Trolling of the Douchebags" would be just as workable. Hell, the latter
title could provide years worth of material. Even a Billy Snakeshit
version of one of his plays like "The Taming of the Douchebag" is
feasible.

Just some ideas: "I Was a Teenage Douchebag", "Douchefellas", "The
Douchebag Non-Redemption", "There Will Be Douchebags", "Douchebags on a
Plane", "The Douchefather", "The Gullible, the Stupid and the
Douchebags", ad infinitum et ad nauseam.

[NancyGene]

On Saturday, September 23, 2023 at 8:23:02 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpuppet wrote:

> Well, we can do anything we want to parody the title. I'd suggest the
> idea is to make the original work distinguishable from the proposed
> title. With that in mind, "The Silencing of the Douchebags" or even "The
> Trolling of the Douchebags" would be just as workable. Hell, the latter
> title could provide years worth of material. Even a Billy Snakeshit
> version of one of his plays like "The Taming of the Douchebag" is
> feasible.
>
> Just some ideas: "I Was a Teenage Douchebag", "Douchefellas", "The
> Douchebag Non-Redemption", "There Will Be Douchebags", "Douchebags on a
> Plane", "The Douchefather", "The Gullible, the Stupid and the
> Douchebags", ad infinitum et ad nauseam.

We like "Billy Snakeshit!" We have been thinking ahead to the cover illustration for the short story. What do you think about this: https://imgur.com/gallery/OPzRCZD

>
> Just some ideas: "I Was a Teenage Douchebag", "Douchefellas", "The
> Douchebag Non-Redemption", "There Will Be Douchebags", "Douchebags on a
> Plane", "The Douchefather", "The Gullible, the Stupid and the
> Douchebags", ad infinitum et ad nauseam.

All great literary inspirations! Others might be: "Ben Douchebag," "Young Douchebags," "The Day the Douchebag Stood Still," "Live and Let Douche," and "Moulin Douche." "Stranger Douchebags" might be an impossibility.

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:3c10a207-e399-450b...@googlegroups.com:

> On Saturday, September 23, 2023 at 8:23:02 PM UTC, Cujo DeSockpuppet
> wrote:
>
>> Well, we can do anything we want to parody the title. I'd suggest the
>> idea is to make the original work distinguishable from the proposed
>> title. With that in mind, "The Silencing of the Douchebags" or even
>> "The
>
>> Trolling of the Douchebags" would be just as workable. Hell, the
>> latter
>
>> title could provide years worth of material. Even a Billy Snakeshit
>> version of one of his plays like "The Taming of the Douchebag" is
>> feasible.
>>
>> Just some ideas: "I Was a Teenage Douchebag", "Douchefellas", "The
>> Douchebag Non-Redemption", "There Will Be Douchebags", "Douchebags on
>> a Plane", "The Douchefather", "The Gullible, the Stupid and the
>> Douchebags", ad infinitum et ad nauseam.
>
> We like "Billy Snakeshit!" We have been thinking ahead to the cover
> illustration for the short story. What do you think about this:
> https://imgur.com/gallery/OPzRCZD

Amazing. That's definitely a winner.

>> Just some ideas: "I Was a Teenage Douchebag", "Douchefellas", "The
>> Douchebag Non-Redemption", "There Will Be Douchebags", "Douchebags on
>> a
>
>> Plane", "The Douchefather", "The Gullible, the Stupid and the
>> Douchebags", ad infinitum et ad nauseam.
>
> All great literary inspirations! Others might be: "Ben Douchebag,"
> "Young Douchebags," "The Day the Douchebag Stood Still," "Live and Let
> Douche," and "Moulin Douche." "Stranger Douchebags" might be an
> impossibility.

"Gone with The Douchebag", "American Douchebag", "Citizen Douchebag",
"The Great Douchebag", "The Brothers Douchebag", "Brave New Douchebag",
"Stinker, Whiner, Coward, Douchebag", "Douchebag Confidential" - damn,
this does go on! --

[NancyGene]

We should probably wait until "The Fall of the House of Douchebag" stops selling "like waffles" to write another bestseller. Let our fans appreciate this masterpiece and then give them more!

We thought of "12 Years a Douchebag," but the timeframe is wrong.

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:04092521-2570-490e...@googlegroups.com:

> We should probably wait until "The Fall of the House of Douchebag"
> stops selling "like waffles" to write another bestseller. Let our
> fans appreciate this masterpiece and then give them more!
>
> We thought of "12 Years a Douchebag," but the timeframe is wrong.
>

There's always song parodies.

"Once, Twice, Three Times a Douchebag", "We Won't Get Douched Again" and
my favorite, which really cannot be parodied much further: "The
Douchebag Song" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hw1ncADC9KM

[NancyGene]

That one is very funny. The cartoon character doesn't look like Douchebag T. Dreckweasel (DTD has no muscles or muscle tone and his Brillo hair is disgusting), but the song lyrics certainly fit.

How about "Like a Rolling Douchebag?"

[Ash Wurthing]

Hell, that song nails it!
"Dear Mr. Douche bag, we all agree that you are a dumb-ass
Why can't you see that?
You're a douche bag, do-douche bag
Do-do-do-do-douche bag
You're a douche bag, do-douche bag
Do-do-do-do-douche bag
Inconsiderate, ignorant, you drink you get belligerent
You think anybody finds you amusing?
No, no, no, not even a little bit
You always find a way to stop all the fun
Like, when you scream "party foul" at the top of your lungs"

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:8256ecee-6487-44ce...@googlegroups.com:

"Knocking on Douchebag's Door", "Just Like A Douchebag", "It Takes a Lot
to Laugh, It Takes a Douchebag to Whine" and "Shelter From the
Douchebag".

Honorable mention: "Dirtnap on the Mountain".

PS: Favorite Dylan song not fucked up by his shitty douchebag voice -
"One More Cup of Coffee" by Sertab Erener.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cufqSQWiCCU

[NancyGene]

That is so topical! Did you consider "Dirtnap Deeds Done Dirtnap Cheap?"

>
> PS: Favorite Dylan song not fucked up by his shitty douchebag voice -
> "One More Cup of Coffee" by Sertab Erener.
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cufqSQWiCCU

We like that one, especially with the belly dancing and Middle Eastern sounds woven in. Very good!

[Cujo DeSockpuppet]

NancyGene <nancygene...@gmail.com> wrote in
news:d2dc871b-0cba-4a36...@googlegroups.com:

I'm trying to recall where I got it from, It may have been a sampler of
music I got from the Inwood Theater when Tom Hendricks worked there. I
notice he doesn't post here any longer. One of LWD's buddies at the
time.

#EDBF

Everyone
Douchebag
Befriends
Fails

[NancyGene]

Hendricks is on the Dockery Facebook! Edition. He posts piffle.

>
> #EDBF
>
> Everyone
> Douchebag
> Befriends
> Fails

That is certainly true. Prison, jail, bread lines, bankruptcies, illness, unemployment, homeless, death--and those are just some of the benefits of being a Douchebag Friend (DFWB - Douchebag Friend With Benefits).

[Ash Wurthing]

Whippin' fools, so blind...
AFWT Scriptorium: nonAFWT works: 12 nonplaced works, 253 fragments/shorts in 10 categories, 23 long fragment streams, 25 collab poems (tgg & AYoS), 20 tGG only poems, 68 AYoS poems
5 AFWT Books, Book XV: 15 chapters, Book XVII: 17 chapters Book XXI: 12 chapters, Book DCCC: 27 chapters, Book Theta: 2 subbooks