posted 12-07-2007 02:44 PM            

It all began in the little town of Mayonnaiseville, New Mexico. Little George was born to parents Martha and Buford Maschke. George was a small child, with an eager disposition. At the age of 5, he was saying his first word---which was thrrrpppt. Yes, George was a little late in developing, the doctors attributed the delays to the bowl of paint chips he was commonly seen munching on during school lunches. The local townspeople always commented that young George was always seen with his German shepard Gino. George and Gino were quite the pair. Later in life at the innocent age of 32, George would tell his first girlfriend that he first learned to deep-french kiss from Gino.
By the time George was 9 years old, he began to show an uncanny ability to communicate in languages typically seen in animals. A neighbor remarked that George was seen conversing with a declawed gerbil during a science fair. Although he didn't win that ribbon, it was said that young George declared himself winner as he “discovered” the secret pleasures of science on that unusual and oft-talked about day.
As a teenager in the 1976, young George could be found fishing with his and man's best friend, Gino the German Shepard. A boy and his dog as it were. George's aunt remarked that young teen George was somewhat of a loner and that to keep himself occupied he had his collection of Pat Boone records----the singer who was quite the famous performer for that era---in George's opinion that is. The turning point in George's youth came when he was invited to the “Disco Christmas Pageant Dance” by a neighbor girl named Bree Cheeserton. Bree was a pretty girl who was deaf and blind from the age of 4. George, being the early linguist that he was, communicated with Bree in a most unique fashion. George's history teacher and a chaperon at the dance remarked that George was seen stepping on Bree's feet on the dance floor in order to communicate that he wanted to go home.
Perhaps the turning point in George's young life was a fateful day in his 11th grade gym class locker room. You see, it is quite common for every school to have “that kid” who is seen defecating his pants, or caught masturbating by early returning classmates. Tragically in George's case, he was caught masturbating WITH feces. This so unsettled his teachers, that they decided to graduate George early from high school, which was a godsend. A then high school classmate went on to become a police detective and eventually a sex crimes expert---who came to call a crime involving feces....”A Mashke.”
George was on his way. With the help of a speech therapist to aid him in his severe stuttering---which incidentally didn't exist until the gym class incident, George enlisted in the US ARMY. Due to the Soviet Union's secret use of animals in warfare---such as explosive dogs and photo-equipped squirrels, George became the country's first animal interrogator. To this day, the interrogative tactic of “sexual humiliation” is actually a compilation of George's own techniques used on animals during his service, but also his first-hand knowledge of such feelings from his old high school locker room.

.....if any out there know additional information, please post.

More to come!

posted 12-07-2007 04:06 PM            

excerpts to follow.

r

------------------
"Gentlemen, you can't fight in here. This is the war room."
--(Stanley Kubrick/Peter Sellers - Dr. Strangelove, 1964)

posted 12-09-2007 10:34 AM            

Well, I just got the good news. I am to take a polygraph test for a position with the FBI. I new they would be calling me, and I know that they are desperate to have me work and eventually run the place. Clearly they know a good thing when they see it! I am sure that they know that men such as myself are so methodical that we do not need friends, so the background interviews were short and sweet. There is little doubt that the FBI is now glaringly aware of my two most epic professional attributes, my huge proportion of intellect, and my modesty. I can't wait to take my polygraph test, but I hope there is no mention of locker rooms, as it is none of ttttttheir bbbbusiness.

p.s. I lost more hair this week. Reminder; Launch a lower court suit over the claims of Rogaine. THEY WILL PAY FOR THEIR MISDEEDS.

posted 12-09-2007 06:41 PM            

Today I had my first rack of lamb---and I am not talking about a meal here. I look around at other people, and I see a sea of nitwits. If I could live anwhere, it would be the Netherlands, a place where you can live the life you want without the righteous indignation of others. I want to be able to walk down the street with an noticeably aroused farm animal without the leering eyes of judgement and redicule. I will later write a poem regarding this matter and title it; "Split Hoove Passion."
Reminder; Flirt with Palerider and also rent "Battlefield Earth" again.

posted 12-09-2007 09:04 PM            

Well I am really furious! Some examiners have taken over my beloved web forum, and my team is losing ground. I am more surprised that they didn't do this sooner though, as I have had an open polygraph debate forum for over 6 years now. What takes the cake is when the examiners present themselves as humorous and even compelling as human beings. My campaign of demonizing them is stalled---as they are rejecting the pigeon-holing of thoughtless, careless, phony con artists. I will schedule a web cam conference with Gino (I hope he isn't wearing a shirt again!) and we will develope a plan to unsurpe these devils. I decided to make a deal with Cliff in South Africa---he can stay and say what he wants if he reveals the identities of the examiners----I just hope one of them has a pony phd.
Reminder; write another letter to Geraldo Riveria and send him a standard-issue picture of me in a karate robe with my genitals poking out. I love his oh so wonderful face, that Geraldo. Also, send out invitations to the Battlefield Earth Fanclub Convention, Netherlands Chapter XXII. I need to bring a covered dish.

posted 12-11-2007 04:17 PM            

Got so furious with those hooligan polygraph examiners messing with my site, I almost forgot that Christmas is coming and I must get down De Bijenkorf, my favorite upmarket department store in the Netherlands to do some Christmas shopping! I like it's flagship store on Dam Square, just around the corner best as it offers many prestigious brands in womenswear, acessories, beauty, food, and home products. Its name means "the Beehive" and that's just the feeling I get when I try on the size 18 dresses there. Got to remember to pick some new hosery as well. I've got to hang up my stocking and knowing how I've been using my socks lately, I don't really want any food products placed in them by ole St. Nick!

posted 12-11-2007 10:24 PM            

Well, today is Valentines Day. I have just trimmed the tonails on my dwarf gerbil Jack T. and all I need is a paper towel tube. Later tonight after solo games, I will go hit the nightlife in search of an intimacy unit. The hair piece looks great from the front, and I imagine it looks great from the back too. I am a god.
Gino called with another polygraph flap---yipeee! I can't wait to post it and spend the day hammering it on the message board. My work called again---those people are so lucky to have me, they should pay me double. I must have worked 4 straight hours yesterday in between my far more important antipolygraph work. My employer couldn't possibly fathom my power over them----and if they try to screw me over...they will be sorry for decades. Ants, all of them, mere ants. I am a hero. Well, It's time for lil' Jack to do some deep-core mining. Where is my ABBA CD?

Reminder; Cancel those damn swimming lessons. I'll never get the hang of it. My swim instructer Llars is clearly incompetant.....reminds me of my bicycle instructor from last spring----pathetic excuses for educators.

------------------
".....cause it has electrolites" --Idiocracy