User:DorkyMcDorkface

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Good day! It's me, Dorky McDorkface, and I just want to say this... silly old Gordon fell in a ditch, fell in a ditch, fell in a ditch! Silly old Gordon fell in a ditch, all on a Monday morning!


Please be as gentle as humanly possible.

yo, wtf[edit]

so, let's make things poifectly clear. A woodchuck would chuck as much wood as he could, though woodchucks realistically couldn't chuck wood in spite of their name. Woodchucks should chuck wood, and they most likely would chuck wood if they could, if only they had the physical capacity to do so. The same with Peter Piper. Mr. Piper personally can't pick peppers because his arms and legs are plump stumps and he pushes himself in a police car via neuroelectrical connections between his steering pick and his P Wii. How a man can play a P Wii without arms or legs is God and his great-grandmother's guess, as such a concept is preposterous to even in the prelude.

So, yeah.


you bettuh shut tmfff up before I give you a whackin'[edit]

To summon the ghost of John Wayne, you must do the following.

  • Make sure it's twelve hours twelve minutes and twelve seconds ante meridiem, on a new moon night on a Wednesday.
  • Turn off every single source of light in your house.
  • Make sure there isn't a soul within a yard or two of yourself.
  • Take off your pants and any underpants, but keep your shoes on. Your shirt, too.
  • Light ten or eleven caramel-scented candles and place them into a semicircle around yourself.
  • Place a bucket of KFC chicken, a bottle of Rolling Rock, a June 1968 printed edition of Cannery Row and a tiger print necktie in the semicircle.
  • Place a MAD magazine, about two and three nail clippings and a wad of gum right below the flat part of the semicircle.
  • Put a toothpick underneath your toenail.
  • Set your Zune to "In a Gadda-Da-Vidi" by Iron Butterfly on max volume.
  • Lay nude photographs of cartoon characters (preferably women) around the round part of the semicircle.
  • Jack off to them while saying "toy boat" again and again.
  • When you're about to drop your load, scream "Zoombafoo" and kick the wall with your toothpicked toe.

John Wayne will appear if you do all this shit right, and when he does, he will engage in a formal debate with you about these three questions:

  1. Wotever happened to Baby Jane?
  2. Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?
  3. Why did you name me this way?

If you fail to answer all these questions, he'll open a gate to Hell and a pig-faced squid the size of a house with shark teeth on its tentacle will come thru and eat your face into the middle of next week, where you'll be skinned, crucified, covered in bird shit and looking over Manhattan. If you succeed, however, then he'll offer you 10^61,917,364,224 dollars in cash if you cut out your uvula and give it to him within fifteen seconds of asking. He will offer a shard of glass if you forgot to bring an adequate cutting utensil. Failure to perform such an action will result in you getting infected with every single disease and disorder that ever existed, is existing and will exist ten thousand quinquavigintillion multiplied by Graham's number to the googolplexianth power times over. Once you do his bidding, he will gladly give you the money before spitting in your eye, turning a blind eye and leaving thru the front door.

CONGRATULATions, punk! You just met the ghost of John Wayne. And now, for only two thousand payments of thirty-seven dollars and fifty cents, you can have access to one of our methods of interacting with other ghosts. Just pop on over to our website (www.klopiparanormality.net), or call our number (1-888-URN-ARSE), and put in your name, your age, and your location, along with your email address, your phone number, the number of sexual partners you've had, (these next five are optional) your sexual, romantic and gender preferences, your blood type, and the number of hairs in your left nostril. Once you fill out all of that information, expect your pamphlet in the next two decades or so. If you need any more information, just met us at 615 Calvin Coolidge Ave., Dumpwater, Florida. See ya!


Oh, and we also sell shaving cream. Dat's kewl.