halloween

here are some pics of saturday's halloween fiasco. i will now write captions. sit tight borts.


so i decided to be mexican. i figure...i'm unemployed, this girl cupcake reads my blog, and even she knows i can't score, so i might as well change my dna. and...and...i like burritos, so i went with mexican. this is a pumpkin in honor of my dna makeover.



the side effect of changing your dna is twofold. first of all, you have to hang out with jeff goldblum (which is terrible, believe me) and spend some time in a bizarre orgazmitron (not pictured). secondly, you grow hoagies on your hands and need immediate assistance with deep bronzing solution.


i think it all paid off, because this is mister peanut, and he said i look much better as a "mexie", whatever that means.


i think mister peanut's encouragement was a ruse, because all he wanted was my sweet, sweet can.




we need lumber.


mister peanut felt poorly for acting up. in this picture he is telling me about a dream i was in where i was me, but i wasn't me. i also think he is telling me that in the dream i had wooden teeth. i wasn't listening.


this is me trying to get some sun. i am also explaining to people that when a patient gets difficult, you quone them.



pictured from left to right, mister peanut, a revolutionary piper(?), robert palmer, a Tyrannosaurus Rex.


indiana is trying on his new glow in the dark eyeballs.


oriana is beautiful, but she isn't into hoagies. can't win them all gilhouse. can't win any of them, actually. that's why you wear hoagies on your hands in public and still reek of mayo and fetid lettuce leavins. god i'm hungry.



this is bette midler and her posse of the undead. bette challenges whether quone is a word. rob is singing "just the two of us" while the undead posse are singing, "you and i."


this is one of my hoagies explaining that quone is indeed a word and we need a medical dictionary.


this saturday was also indiana's first birthday. leah made him an amazing cake (thanks leah!)and strangely, robert palmer thinks indy is a baby bird and is trying to barf up some food for him to eat.


happy 1st indy


this is robert, me and leah playing with ray combs (not pictured). we are auditioning for family feud and the question is "name something you take on fishing trip." robert got the number one answer with "a blanket" and leah got the number two answer with a "basket filled with scrumptious potato salad" and the boat in the background got the third best answer with a "dead prostitute." unfortunately, Edward hoagie hands did not get the final answer when he responded with "don knotts." this allowed the frankenstein family to steal the board and win the game of let's pretend pat combs didn't hang himself and let's play with his withered corpse insanity.


i'm thinking of that jaws soundtrack. dun dun...dun dun..dun dun dun dun dun dun HOAGIE! actually, the hoagie is attempting to re-murder ray combs, and pat is saying, "oh my god, it's drowning me in oil and mayo! for the love of god, some one get the lettuce out of my eyes! it's giving me a gooey rash!"


mister peanut: i say, i've lost my eyeballs.
revolutionary piper: quite.
hot martian: quite good.


this is robert palmer revealing his inner soul. blah!

i suppose this one looks a bit like me

so the time has come to do actual research for my edward hoagie hands costume. this kid did a pretty good job. below are some other ideas.



friends, please make sure i do not end up looking like this woman/man?



i could always go as normal ol' me.



this costume is called "mac daddy with hat red." i think we may have a wiener.



i don't even get this one.



i suppose this one looks a bit like me.



horrifying.




even more horrifying. this is going to replace the whale in my nightmares.



an out of shape super hero



this is more my speed



this is more josh's speed




ahhh...? i think this costume is a high chair. either that or a prop from some german porn movie where they shit on each other.




i found this pic of eddie and a really hot girl. is she a constellation, maybe taurus? i can't tell if it is funny or terribly disturbing.




this is scissor hands with his friends, william wallace and a krusty burger worker.




the ambiguously gay duo




genius

i'm back

so i'm back and better (poorer) than ever. to celebrate this momentus event, i have created a riddle:

how many gilhouses does it take to gilhouse your local gilhouse? give up?




c'mon. you can do it.


answer: it's a trick question. there is no such thing as a gilhouse.

oh yeah, i'm back.

where's that rum raisen?

can't you see we're closed? get out, get out of here!

well, that's pretty much where i'm at right now. i have been trying to post pictures of the days-in-the-life of gilhouse, but evidently hitler (who had already set up residence in my computer) had sex with some gremlins from the 80's (yeah, those little guys are still around. can you beleve it?), and as a result there are now wee hitler-gremlin hatchlings wreaking havoc in my old piece of shit old laptop. man do hate pseudo-hitler hatchlings. at first i was jealous that hitler was having sex, but then the gremlins didn't call back. i know what that's about. those bitches.

anyhow, i promise that when i get my new computer on monday (yeah, i have to wait until monday now. poop.) i will post everything i have done in the past month. there is not much, but there will be a picture of me holding a broom in my rapist bathroom, a picture of josh pooping (well, almost pooping), and a few pics of some funny commercials i've been watching at 5 in the morning. speaking of which, if you would like a sneak peak at what i have been up to, glue yourself to the tv-machine at get a look at that viking commercial...essentially, what i have been doing is not too dissimilar to those vikings who have had to find new jobs; i tried being a flight steward (but my mace kept hitting people in the face), serving ice cream, parking cars and shoe clerking. these all fell through, however, and i am still without employ. sigh. what's an out of work viking to do?

i would type more but my computer is such a piece of shit i want to kill someone. the cd drive keeps whirling into a frenzy and prevents any other operation from proceeding. i have tried opening the cd drive to stop the whirling, but then the little man who lives in my computer (a man who i am sure suffers from some serious dementive dsorder) tells me that i need to close the cd drive to continue working on anything. at this point i am back in the same flacid position as i began. what fucking hell am i supposed to do? my little computer man is an idiot. and get this... sometimes (and by sometimes i mean every other 5 minutes) so many popups show up the little computer man tells me he has to stop working on whatever i needed to have done so he can expand the "virtual memory", whatever the fuck that is (seth?). at this point the computer (using the whirling strength of the cd drive (which at this point is spinning at 7,500 rpm) pysically takes off the table. what a fucking production. this is all very frustrating for me, as you can imagine.

p.s. on a brighter note, i found atoms in my pocket. 5 of them!