The Lost Blogs Read online

  CONTRARY TO WHAT YOU’RE BEING TOLD. CONTRARY TO WHAT YOU’VE BEEN LED TO BELIEVE. CONTRARY TO EVERYTHING YOU’VE READ ABOUT THE HEAVENS—THE EARTH IS NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE. IT IS NOT NOT NOT WHAT THEY’VE TOLD YOU. EVERYTHING YOU BELIEVE IS WRONG.

  I HAVE RESEARCH THAT PROVES THAT EVERYTHING REVOLVES AROUND THE SUN AND I CALL THIS MY “HELIOCENTRIC” PHILOSOPHY ABOUT THE HEAVENS.

  HAVE YOU READ THE WORDS OF CICERO OR PLATO? HAVE YOU STUDIED WHAT THE ANCIENTS BELIEVED ABOUT THE MOVEMENT OF THE EARTH? HAVE YOU THROWN AWAY YOUR FALSE BELIEFS AND ARE YOU NOW OPEN TO BELIEVING THE TRUTH? BECAUSE THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE!

  LINK TO AN ARTICLE ON GEOCENTRIC THEORY—TOTALLY WRONG!!!

  LINK TO GEORGE RHETICUS’S BLOG, MY DEAR FRIEND WHO HAS CONVINCED ME THAT THE TRUTH OF THE UNIVERSE AND HOW IT MOVES MUST BE PUBLISHED HERE FOR ALL THE WORLD TO SEE.

  LINK TO “COMMENTARIOLUS”—MY ELABORATED THOUGHTS ON THIS THEORY, THE EVIDENCE AS TO WHY THIS IS TRUE, AND WHY YOU SHOULD NOT BELIEVE WHAT THE OTHERS ARE SAYING.

  LINK TO THIS PAGE AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE. POINT PEOPLE IN THIS DIRECTION. WE ARE LIVING IN A WORLD THAT IS NOT WHAT IT SEEMS AND IT IS UP TO A SMALL GROUP OF US TO GET THE WORD OUT BEFORE WE ARE QUASHED BY THE “RESPECTED SCIENTISTS” OF THE WORLD. TIME IS RUNNING OUT!

  CONTACT ME WITH QUESTIONS.

  From: http://www.michelangelo.it/blog/

  Subject: Project Impasse

  The seventeen-foot-high block of marble was delivered yesterday. So, too, were additional chiseling tools necessary for the project. Today at dawn, I expected the project to commence.

  And then my model, David, discovered he had a problem.

  In fact, in all fairness, I should rephrase. David did not have a problem… he is a problem. Suddenly, after months of discussion and him being well aware of what this project entailed, he has now decided he does NOT WANT TO POSE NUDE!!

  He arrived today in clothing wrapped tightly around his torso. When I suggested it was time to begin, he stood up on the pedestal and refused to take off the clothes when I prompted him to do so.

  “Take them off,” told him.

  “I’m afraid I cannot,” he said.

  “What are you afraid of?” I asked him.

  “I’m not pleased with how I look,” he replied.

  “You look perfect,” I assured him. “I will do your body justice in my sculpture”

  “You may think I look perfect,” he said. “But you don’t wake up and go to sleep with this body every single day of your life. I can see the imperfections in it.”

  “You are crazy,” I told him. “Now take off your clothes.”

  “No,” he said, crossing his arms.

  “My patience is waning,” I told him. “You agreed. This protect has been commissioned. Everything has been set in motion. I must begin today.”

  “You don’t like what I’m wearing?” he asked.

  “It’s not that I don’t like what you’re wearing,” I said cautiously. “But the statue I planned on creating requires the perfect male form, completely bare. That is why I chose you. You are perfect”

  “I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that to curry favor,” he said.

  “What do I need to say in order for you to believe me when I tell you that you have a beautiful body?” I asked.

  “Look me in the eyes and really mean it,” he said, nervously.

  So I looked him in the eyes and told him again. He still was not willing to remove the garment and so I had to begin with his feet. HIS FEET.

  I am hoping that after a night of thinking on this project, he will change his mind.

  Hope, being the key word.

  From: http://www.j_edgar_hoover.com/confidentialBLOG/

  Subject: New Pair of Shoes

  As always, this personal blog entry was passed through the offices of the FBI before it ended up here on my blog. This is, as I’ve explained before, if I want to express my personal thoughts in this capacity.

  Now, on to the stuff!

  This past weekend I went into the city with my good friend and three who he’s been with lately. We had some drinks and dinner, and had a grand old time. were very generous by providing us with a that was on the house, simply as I may have given them.

  More importantly, you will not guess what I found ? Next door to the restaurant, there in the display window was the most beautiful pair of shoes I have ever seen in my life. heels, with a great over-the-top— friends agreed . After thinking about my finances for a little while, debating which it might look good with, and if I really NEEDED a pair of shoes like that, I dropped the cash and picked up the pair I tried them on , and we both agreed perfectly.

  Later that night, after dinner at the Restaurant, we all went to where the six of us met up with men . Well, since place was just down the street we all .

  I’m still recouping from the entire night’s , but let me just say that I had a and was glad I got the opportunity to , hang out with and experience .

  Starting tomorrow, back to work—rooting out all the traitors and liars in this country. I will, as always, strive to do my best.

  If you want to next weekend, get a hold of me at .

  From: http://www.eva_peron.com/blog/

  Subject: Buenos Aires!

  God, I am so relieved to be out of my boring, stinky little miserable town and here in Buenos Aires! This city is huge! It is more exciting than I ever imagined! Of course, things didn’t turn out exactly how I’d hoped—remember when I told you about meeting Mr. X? The musician? And how he promised to make me a movie star here in Buenos Aires?

  The guy disappeared like two weeks after getting here. What a you-know-what! Girls, do you hear what I’m saying!?

  Well, things are good now. I just booked a few small radio jingle ads—singing and voice acting—and that’s helped me get considered for this role in this small film! It also helps that, you know, I’ve met some producers lately… Wink, wink!! LOL! ROTFL!

  Last night I was staying at B’s place, who I met last week at an audition, and he was asking me what my dream was. You know, where I wanted to be in the end? It was so funny, I was all joking with him and saying how I wanted to be the ruler of Argentina!! You know, loved by all, respected by millions, that sorta thing. We laughed for hours. How about just being a movie star, he wondered. That sounded good to me!!

  B says he thinks I’ll make a great actress—he says he can tell from my presence. He says other people are saying it too. That makes me feel good, even excited about the future! Who knows! Maybe I’ll be so huge in the movies that after I die they’ll make a movie ABOUT me? LOL. What a joke.

  Well if they do, I told B, they’d better make sure it’s got a lot of music (‘cause I love singing) and whoever plays me must be able to sing. You know, really be able to sing. How else could they act out the parts of my life going on right now without me singing for the radio and in movies and stuff!? You know? Someone good. Some really well regarded actress could play me. I mean, if I really become some huge actress like B says he thinks I will be—well, no B-listers.

  Anyway, like THAT will ever happen. I have more luck becoming some kind of spiritual leader of Argentina before any of that ever happens.

  LOL.

  What a joke.

  P.S.—I think I’m bored with B.

  From: http://www.hannibal.com/warblog/

  Subject: Amazing Idea #45D

  War elephants.

  I was sitting around last night with some of my other military commanders, drawing up plans for our march from Spain, over the Pyrenees and the Alps into northern Italy, when the idea hit me.

  War elephants.

  We affix them with saddles, sharpen their tusks, get them all bothered and angry, and take them into battle against the Romans. Horses, sure. We’ll bring horses. But just think for a moment—if you’re running into battle and you see me charging toward you on a war elephant what are you going to think?

  You’re going to th
ink, uh oh, there’s some guy running at me with a war elephant and that’s way more dangerous than a war horse (even though we don’t call them war horses) and you’ll probably get out of the way as quickly as you possibly can because, well… war elephants.

  It’s a totally good idea, I think. War elephants. Say that a few times and don’t tell me it doesn’t send a shiver down your spine!

  You can go ahead and chalk this one up with some of my other successful ideas, which include: Amazing Idea #44A (Intimidating Capes), Amazing Idea #43F (Incoherent Screams During Battle to Confuse), and the classic Amazing Idea #12A (Dogs in Sheep’s Clothing).

  The more I think about it, the more I am confident that “war elephants” are not only visually scary but just hearing what we call them could cause some to back down against our forces before ever witnessing the battle at hand. I can imagine the conversation, can’t you?

  Roman #1: “Did you hear, Hannibal’s got war elephants.”

  Roman #2: “War elephants?”

  Roman #1: “Yes, war elephants.”

  Roman #2: “Really? War elephants?”

  Roman #1: “Yes. Seriously.”

  Roman #2: “Wow. War elephants.”

  War elephants. I will let you know what the rest of my advisors think about the idea, but I’m open to any of your thoughts as well. [email protected].

  From: http://www.wild_bill_hiekok.com/blog/

  Subject: Spades, Clubs & Hearts

  My new wife, Agnes, keeps getting on my back about the poker playin’.

  I love her with all my heart but she keeps sayin’ it ain’t a respectable thing to do, and that there are far better ways to be responsible. She keeps goin’ on about how I’ll never make a worthwhile living playin’ poker and it’s gonna be the death of me, she says. She throws a fit if she sees me playin’ on the Sitting Bull Online Poker Emporium, which, by the way, is one of the few good things that’s come out of this whole Native thing.

  Playin’ poker professionally is somethin’ I’m very serious about—it ain’t just some kind of game to pass the time with. It’s serious business. If there’s a game of poker goin’ on in a town, that’s my job. Better than workin’ in some stage show (no offense to Buffalo Bill’s) and better than bein’ a marshal or even a gunfighter. Those are the dangerous professions, where in a split second you can end up with a bullet in your skull and have no money to show for it.

  That’s what I keep tellin’ Agnes. Would she rather I be single-handedly trying to capture outlaws on the run? Would she rather I go back to bein’ a constable? Holdin’ people to the laws? A man is pretty much guaranteed a nice hot bullet in the craw for doin’ a job like that where you make a lot of enemies. But not in poker. Like I always say, as long as you know when to hold ’em and know when to fold ’em and know when to walk away and know when to run and you never count your money while you’re sittin’ at the table—well, your safety is pretty much guaranteed.

  Poker’s a gentleman’s game. Now that I’m in Deadwood, I wake my ass up and head on down to Nuttal & Mann’s Saloon No. 10 where there’s always a game goin’ on. Not always an empty seat—but I’m so addicted to the game that no matter where there’s an open slot, I’m sitting my butt down in it. Sometimes the room’s so packed that the only seat left is the one with the back to the door… But you gotta do what you gotta do to get into a game, that’s what I always say.

  Besides, it’s sorta an unspoken law that if a man’s got cards in his hands, you never blindside a fella. It’s a rule I live by, and I like to think everyone else does too.

  Okay, I’ll check back with y’all tomorrow! Headin’ down to the saloon. I am feelin’ lucky… Hooo boy. Luck luck luck luck luck.

  From: http://www.william_wallace.org/scot-blog/

  Subject: Scotsmen! Meet up!

  Sons of Scotland—you have arrived here at the William Wallace blog, and by making that choice you have taken the first step in joining me and my other Scottish brothers in our crusade against the English!

  The word has come to me from Andrew de Moray that the English army is approaching with over 10,000 strong. We must challenge their forces, no matter our lack of numbers. I ask that you come to fight now, as free men—since free men are what you are! But if we allow the English to take that away from us, then we will have nothing!!

  Including this really fun time-wasting online game—check it out when you get a chance.

  Yes, you may fight and you may die. Yes, if you run you may live… at least for a while. But years from now, when you’re lying on your deathbed you will wish you had stood and fought for your freedom, on that one day, instead of living a life without it.

  Will you join us?

  I have arranged for a special Battle of Stirling Bridge Meet-up. Just click on the link to find out all the information. The location, the time we’re to meet, and what we may need you to bring (i.e., weapons, supplies, food, etc.). As this will be a battle won by passion and not numbers, any and all Scots are welcome to meet up with us. In fact, they are urged to join this cause!

  If you have friends who you think would also like to meet up with us at Stirling Bridge, feel free to copy the above link and send it to them. There is no charge or fee for participating—we are welcoming any and all to this event. Please be sure to submit your picture so we can know who’s coming. We’d hate to identify you as one of the English and kill you, only to find out you were coming to meet up with us!

  It’s happened before, so… you know.

  Join us, my brothers! JOIN US in our fight! Seriously, JOIN US. Every one of you who clicks on the link above and joins us will also receive the opportunity to possibly win something as well. Something extremely good.

  Freedom!

  From: http://www.L_Frank_Baum.com/blog/

  Subject: The Wicked Witch of the West Chicago

  Selling china door-to-door is not something I consider to be the best part of my day, although it does take up a great deal of my time and if I am someday able to write about such experiences (which is my ultimate wish) it may provide me with some interesting stories. Unfortunately, some days these stories are about my unfortunate experiences with mean-spirited and unhappy potential customers.

  Today was one of those days.

  I had gotten off to a late start already, so I was frustrated to begin with. I have been out this week in West Chicago pounding the pavement. It hasn’t borne much fruit, as the neighborhood is populated by professionals—most everyone is off at work during the daylight hours. However, I did happen to find someone home at one house in particular.

  The Witch, which I will call her from this point forward, had a sour look on her face when she noticed me standing there in my black suit and brand-new shoes—ready to negate anything I was about to say. But when I uncovered the place setting of china—her eyes lit up like someone desperate to have it. She welcomed me in, only after asking me to take off my shoes in the foyer, which I happily did. (It’s not often you get invited in, so I thought this would perhaps be a sale.)

  Once inside, the Witch perused the china, looking at herself in the reflection of the dinner plate. She did that for what seemed like minutes, obsessed with her own image. It was about that point that her children and their friends (about six little creatures running all in and around us at the kitchen table) came screaming at us… Honestly, they were everywhere. Under the table, on my knee, in the living room and dining room. In the midst of it all, one of these little monsters knocked a salad plate onto the floor, smashing it into a thousand pieces.

  The Witch immediately flew off her handle, screaming wildly and chasing the little creatures around the room—eventually after she had chased them away, she took out her broom and got to cleaning up. She didn’t even apologize, quickly revealing that she had no interest in these place settings, but wondered what brand my shoes were and if I would be willing to sell them to her.

  My shoes? The Witch wanted my shoes. I told her that my shoes weren’t for s
ale and quickly pulled my things together only to realize when I reached the front door that my shoes were gone. I asked her where they had gone and she pleaded innocence. I demanded that she give them back, to which she sweetly replied that she had no idea where they were. I threatened to stay right there until they were returned, which she ignored. She sat on the couch, eating an apple, pretending I wasn’t even there.

  I demanded again to get my shoes back. This Witch feigned innocence. She knew nothing about it and there was no more to be said. I eyed a half-full glass of water on the coffee table—thinking in this moment of frustration that I would throw it on her… but I refrained. My sanity meant more to me than this horrible creature and my pair of shoes, and so I walked out (barefoot) and ended my day right there.

  Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll get a new pair of shoes. Because, let me just say, pounding the pavement barefoot is a horribly painful process.

  From: http://www.joseph_stalin.ru/blog/

  Subject: The Great Purge

  In response to the inordinate amount of notes I’ve received—yes, I have deleted every single link to every single blog from this site.

  It was a purge that was necessary, cleaning house and removing the clutter that suffocated me each and every time I glanced at the site. By getting rid of these blogs (which were, I admit, quite helpful in linking to me in this site’s infancy and granting me a great deal of traffic and support), I can now move onward and upward without the deadweight.

  In addition, you may or may not have heard that I am enacting laws that will require all Russian bloggers to abandon their personal blogs and begin writing daily for Soviet.com—the daily news, review, culture, art and entertainment portal that the government has been working on for months now. If you are a blogger and you currently have a personal blog, please be aware that such personal blogs will be shut down by the end of the month. Instead, you will be provided a brand-new username and password and required to produce a certain amount of content on a daily basis. I believe that such steps will allow the Russian blogosphere to thrive and grow from this day forth.