Oh My Goddard: November 2005

Oh My Goddard

Hi my name is Dick, I'm a Mecha-Meterologist, Hero to Canines, Cyborg Love Machine, Warrior Poet, Libra, Decorated War Vet, Singer/Songwriter, Statatician for the Cleveland Browns and All Around Bad Ass Mutha.

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Location: Cleveland, Ohio, United States

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Saturday, November 26, 2005

20% Chance of Blah


Hey my little clouds! Hope your holiday was better than mine, there's a thunderstorm in my head today. I was ready to load up the old shotgun turkey night, when Mikey Stanley gave me a ring and asked me to go boozin' with him again. I don't know why he doesn't just come over. We've been getting faced every night for the last three weeks. His wife is probably banging some guy in his band again. It started out like any other night, but since it was a holiday and all Mikey chipped in for the good stuff it had red hairs on it and it smelled like a pine tree. My circuits were fried. So I woke up face down in the snow in my backyard. The artificial skin on my face was fused to a garden hose. It's a good thing I always keep a spare face around. I was stuck to the ground for nearly 45 minutes. Have you ever tried to free your cyborg head from the frozen ground with a bic lighter? I smelled like hotdogs. Anyway I had a bit of time out there to think about junk and I wrote this little poem called "Super Christopher":



when stop to look at snow covered leaves
i can't help but to think about christopher reeves
and when he could no longer run
that would really be noooooo fun
the man of steel was really fucking cool
suddenly he became the man of drool
and then i think about how america
used to be like superman
and now
its more
like
christopher reeeves.


A special RIP and big ups to the notorious P. A. T. Morita.

wax off, man.

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Thanks NOT Giving Eve 1101000101010!


So me and my pal, Micheal Stanley, went out tonight to our favorite watering hole, to tie one on tonight. he said he wanted to get "Crunk", I think that's black people talk for getting high and drunk, no problem. I have altered my alcohol receptors to be almost as sensitive to booze and chronic as WD-40 or petrolium. So I knew i would have a good time. We totally forgot how crazy the bars get around here when all the goddard damned, college kids come home. Stanz reminded me that it was "Amatuer Night" but I thought that meant that his band was playing at the bar. Jimminy Christmass there sure was alot of talent out there, but it didn't make up for all the amount of sausage that we had to deal with. Half these kids couldn't even grow a manly beard goddard damn it, I doubt they even had hair in their pants. We were packed like sardines and could barely get to the bar to get a goddard damned drink.

I wrote a song about it. Micheal Stanley and I recorded it in his attic over a bottle jagermeister before we got yelled at by his wife and passed out. it's called " Hot Chicks Who Will Never Do Me":

this town was our town
hoes up g's down
little bitches with the big titty
knowin' me and Stanz run this city

chick fat rollin' over the belt
doesn't even beg to be felt
little manboy posers-bad hair cut
leave so i can touch-your girlfrind's butt

the weather is bad
don't try me Chad
i'm not your wimpy little dad
if you girl saw my junk she would be sad (for you)

for you ou-ou-ohhhhhu-for you

cyber c*ck all night long
pnematic, long and cyber strong
you're worring about your little dong
but you're the reason for this song

01000100101100
Dickkie G.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

There's A High Pressure System in My Pants


I love Abraham Lincoln. Here's a little known fact. President Lincoln was our country's first cyborg! He was powered by coal and a small steam engine ran all his processors. I may not have a time machine, but I just purchased the bones of John Wilkes Booth. I going to take a steamy one on them when they get delivered.

In Goddard We Trust.

Where's That Dick Been?

Hello my little Woollybears and Woolybearettes. Uncle Dick finally entered the blogosphere. Actually I've been here all along. I created it one day just by thinking about it. That's one of the great things about being a cyborg, you don't even have to type. My left nipple is a firewire2 port and my right nipple is goddard damned sexy.
If your not familar with old Uncle Dick then you either live in a cave in some backtarded middle eastern country or maybe you have been hooked up to some kind of life support machine for most of your sad life. If that's the case you should look into cybergenetics but you'll still never be as awesome as me. Pass me the WD-40, ladies. Well, where was I? 001010001000100010110100101010100010101010101010100100110110100010010. Sorry about that I get all mixed up sometimes, I can communicate in over 6,000,000 languages and little power surges trip me up while I'm recharging. Ohio Edison you are one tasty, sexy little devil. Oh yeah I'm Dick Goddard and I control most of northeast ohio and several small countries in Asia. I run this Goddard damn town and if you can't except that, you will be eliminated. Using just a small part of my advanced mind I could fry you like a piece of bacon - right through your second-rate keyboard. A chilling thought ain't it. Sorry, there goes my crazy appetite for world domination again. I was just kidding... or was I? 00101000. Ok, let's be friends. Old Unckle Dickkie wouldn't hurt a fly (legal bot.V1.5.2 made me say that).
I've been very busy lately. but I took some time away from controling global weather patterns this past summer and put some serious studio hours in with my old pal, Michael Stanley. The album won't be out until after the holidays but it is pure balls to the walls rock and goddard damned roll. I'm going to call him today and tell him that's what we're naming the album. And just because I don't hate you here's a little ballard I wrote that starts out one of the heaviest songs on the albumits called "Enemy Mine":

he felt it shake
he saw it crack
i owe my life
to utah jack

my blistered hands
my broken back
coughing up
that evil black

walk the line
walk the line
i’m living on
borrowed time

how can i stay
no sun today
my brand new pick
cost a’half week pay

the company store
the company store
every week’s
a nickel more

walk the line
walk the line
i’m living on
borrowed time

a baby boy
my pretty wife
they get me through
this dirty life

00101000101 010101010,
The Big G