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Paying my dad’s social security, the Garbage-versary and the Garbages Goblin, men’s experiences with men being emotional, over-crowded Halloween haunts, Cripp Daddy calls in to talk disabled Halloween costumes, back problems, avocado terrorism, things the army can fix, Ari gives a boob demonstration that I don’t remember the point of and plays the war game, Hampture is under attack, pausing for ten minutes, more on #SlimeTime, and my own personal Asterios spaghetti week; all that and more this week on The Dick Show!

It’s the Garbages-versary! Not to be confused with the Boulder-versary. Spread your hips, call the police, and tighten up your Hefty bags as we celebrate the one-year anniversary of the spaghetti-est sex logs in the universe with this Garbages Goblin commemorative t-shirt and/or hoodie. Let him protect your garbages and protect your heart. Any resemblance to any person alive or dead is entirely coincidental.

And then check out this month’s bonus episode, Dick on #SlimeTime. It will make you feel better about all of your decisions in life. But first…

According to a recent study…

41% of men have regretted opening up to someone about their mental health.

53% of men claim this negative experience would prevent them from opening up again.

100% of these men are total pussies.

I don’t understand mental health. That much is obvious. I do know that the awareness of it increases every year, and so do suicides. Coincidence?

Just kidding. That’s what’s known as a “joke”, a momentary relief and a coping mechanism to deal the harsh and usually inconsistent laws that govern our lives. The people are inconsistent, the needs are based on emotion, so the laws are wild and chaotic and random. Compassionate one minute, vicious and vindictive the next. An egotistical panacea with the tact of a car crash and the finality of an excuse. The parts of ourselves represent the whole, and the whole is a representation of the individual, making the later expendable.

Is the joke funny yet? Let me rephrase.

A black guy, a Mexican, a woman, a Chinese guy, a couple types of Indians, Europe, space aliens, seven billion different people all living on the same Earth at the same time and interacting and driving one another insane and statistics walk into a bar, and the bartender says, “Which one of you put a steering wheel down my pants?”

I’m going to have to stop that joke right there.

It’s not that men refuse to expression emotions. It’s that expression emotions, for men, is illegal. It’s deconstructive, it’s acerbic, it’s “solution-oriented”–illegal, illegal, illegal. It’s anti-absurdity. It’s bigger nonsense. It’s the opposite of the rule of law, which is of course mass of hysteria. And if it’s not blatantly illegal, it’s even worse: not “advertiser friendly”.

One day, the language of men will be studied in Pepsi-sponsored schools as a dead language. Archives of 4chan will be poured over like the Voynich Manuscript, completely indecipherable to the artificial and artificially-woke intelligence that governs the Corporo-academia-tocracy, endlessly scouring for something positive in the deluge of shit, scanning for time-traveling mass shooters.

They’ll return to the hard-coded flaw in their quantum-programming, “If only they would have expressed their emotions!”

They tried to. No one was listening.

“Truth Matters” by Myroom Records



“The Middle Class Master of Ceremonies” by MCMC



Dick Pics



A thumbnail that’s always better by HeHeSilly.



And check out this sick animation! I love watching drawings come together and shit.

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