Sorry about the lack of posts

I was temporarily transfigured into a paint bucket.

Respite?!

The last week there has been very little violent torture, because very shortly 8 new contestants will organize in the formula utilized earlier this year. This go-round, the goal is to power a time-machine that runs on talent power. 21st century citizens may not yet be familiar with this form of energy, but the next time you watch "Soul Trains" hold a potted daisy in your lap. The increased metabolism of the daisy will be irrefutable.

It is my hope that, when the talent is culled, when the Apes flee to the future at the end of the 8 weeks, they will set me free and only marginally cripple/disfigure me.

The greatest possible news

The apes, concerned my most sensitive areas would disappear into nothingness (leaving nothing for them to torture), agreed to recover my anus from the dimension they banished it to, reinstall it in my person, and thusly the wormhole that swallowed my perineum disappeared. Sadly, my perineum is still missing. How is such a transitional part of the human body able to completely disappear, without even a floating quantum anomaly in its place? Is my anatomy now stretched to fill the void?

Not exactly. It is difficult to describe. But keep in mind the tricky quantum mechanics of what has been done to my undercarriage.

Now, were you to look directly at the part of me where my perineum was, if it is from the front angle, say with your vision following me starting at my testicles, you are transported suddenly to my rear side. If you attempt to view my perineum from the rear, you will be transported to my front. If you attempt to view it straight-on, your eyes will turn into glass and explode. Likewise, should I try to look at my own perineum in a mirror, I will turn into a creature resembling a mythological basilisk and devour the mirror.

Saved by the quantum anomaly

Looks like the trans-dimensional displacement of my anus caused a tiny wormhole to open several inches away. This wormhole, in turn, swallowed my perineum. There is no longer anything between my anus and genitals but a swirling black-violet quantum anomaly.

Haha!

Looks like I gave you the service, Barry Shirley, as the 21st century saying goes.


Now, to find a way to close the wormhole before it grows and absorbs my scrotum.

Misbegotten Anton

Anton, like most undead, craves cerebral matter for nutrition. I have spent the last 6 days trying to prevent him from burrowing into my ear while I sleep. He is too large to fit, actually. And given that he is toothless and his tongue is not capable of making it around the various bends and turns in my facial orifices, I am not concerned he will do me any harm.

Yet, whenever he thinks I am not looking, he pounces at me. He scrambles for my ear or nostril, desperate for that sweet brain. It is only a matter of time before he realizes my mouth is another option. When Captain Apehab arrives to lower the laptop down in the well bucket, I know Barry Shirley is only a few feet away. Stifling the giggles. He knows I will one day be forced to kill Anton, and subsequently my perineum.

Did he know this would happen? Does he read this blog, calculating Anton's demise as he calibrates the various instruments of torture?

Last night as I was given my weekly spoon of lemon juice and margarine for sustenance, Anton knocked it to the filthy ground. It was lost in the muck. I fear that even my legendary patience will near its end soon, and I will be forced to make the ultimate sacrifice.

Thank heavens

Using a scientific method I came up with in the year 3009 called "The Ulysses Gambit", I managed to reanimate Anton the frog using a moldy cheese sandwich, alcohol-laden urine, and the rubber cement that holds my shoes together. And just in time! Barry Shirley came by the well with the rectumometer "cruising for a bruising" as they say in this era's vernacular. He looked quite upset when he heard the nightmarish sqeaking of my undead amphibian friend.

"Oh fiddlefaddle, I was sure looking forward to shoving this in you and giving your perineum the business! Now my whole setup of punishing you for the dead frog is ruined. Looks like I'll have to empty this bucket filled with battery acid and poop into the well instead."

And dump a bucket of battery acid and poop on me he did.

Anton haunts me from the corner. I am not entirely sure if undead frogs require sustenance. Sooner or later I will find out.

I cured 14 different space plagues

Since I lie in a bed of misery and simian waste, I just thought I would throw that out there, FYI.