Archive for the ‘Ninja Vicki’ Category

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Epilogue 2014 – Ninja Vicki, Samurai Cathy, and Mikka

December 28, 2013

After more than five years of dating, Mikka and Samurai Cathy eloped to Massachusetts.  Their reasoning was that they’d never be able to afford an actual wedding, and eloping would deny Ninja Vicki the opportunity to ruin things.  Most of us were happy for them.  Ninja Vicki, obviously, was not.

What made Ninja Vicki even more furious was the letter she received from Samurai Cathy soon after the eloping.  In essence the letter said that Cathy and Vicki’s blood feud was over, that they were not destined to be locked in mortal combat until the end of their days, and that whatever started the feud was probably Vicki’s fault but she forgives her regardless of what it was. It was easy for Cathy to let go of a feud whose inciting incident couldn’t be recalled by either participant – she had now had a husband. Vicki, on the other hand, had nothing but the feud in her life.  She had become the dominant ninja in the area, she had free reign of the town, but she had no one to share her ninja life with.  Tina the Lesbian had a fiance. Anonymous Doug was gone. So was Bernie the Half-Cyborg Cat.  The old crew was gone.  Well, not totally, I was still around but the thought of us clinging together as the last members of a deteriorated social circle was not enticing in the least.

Vicki kept promising to find Cathy and kill her, but her heart wasn’t in her threats.  Maybe she figured out even if she succeeded she’d still have nothing.  Maybe she felt that it would be useless to finish a feud that one side wasn’t fighting anymore. Could have even been that even if Cathy beat her, she wouldn’t kill Vicki.  Then she’d be left with nothing and the humiliation of losing.  Or it probably was that Vicki didn’t want to bother traveling to Massachusetts to hunt them down.

Cathy got a job as a bouncer in a Cambridge bar.  Harvard and MIT kids are barely smart enough not to fuck with the woman in the kimono with the samurai sword on her belt.  Mikka found work at a New England Clam Chowder factory.  He’s hoping to make assistant supervisor in the next year so they can start planning to start a family.

Ninja Vicki still lives in the house near mine.  All alone.  Every other night I can hear her playing Peter Cetera songs from her stolen entertainment center.  I still catch her from time to time stealing my orange juice, but I think she gets caught on purpose just to have someone to talk to.

We’ll probably die alone together… if that makes any sense.

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It’s Beaver-Slapping Day!

May 29, 2013

We try not to pay attention to celebrity gossip train wrecks, but you have our full attention when you put “slapped my vagina” in the headline.

The NYPD yesterday said there was no evidence that Amanda Bynes was groped by cops who busted her for tossing a bong from a 37th-floor Midtown hotel room.

“Internal Affairs investigators have found no evidence to corroborate Ms. Bynes’ allegations,” NYPD spokesman Paul Browne said. “To the contrary, a credible civilian witness who was with the officers throughout told investigators that none touched Ms. Bynes inappropriately or otherwise engaged in misconduct at any time.”

The troubled ex-child star claimed that two officers groped her and that one “slapped my vagina.”

Vagina slap is the new term of 2013!

“I don’t believe I’ve ever slapped a girl in the vagina before,” I say.  “Is it an open-hand smack or a backhand?  A backhand is more of a cup check, but that open-hander seems like it would be loud, and sting too.”

“This ain’t like Dynasty,” says Tina the Lesbian.  “This ain’t no rear back and slap the taste out of that vagina. This is a quick flick of the wrist up between the wickets.  It’s not going to cause the same pain it would to testicles, but it won’t feel nice against your labia I’m sure.”

“Tina’s right,” says pimp-slap expert Avonia the Wiccan Pimp.  “This is a totally different slap.  You have to come up vertically with a vagina slap instead of horizontal for a regular slap. I prefer the torque I get on a traditional slap across the face.  Plus why would I hit one of my ho’s in their genitals? That’s where she’s making my money.”

“I’ve slapped some tits around, sure,” says Anonymous Doug.  “And yeah, I’ve slapped a girl in bed when she’s asked me to, but I’ve never had one ask me to slap her in the pussy.  Next time I’m with a girl who’s a bit strange in bed, I’m gonna see if a good pussy slapping does anything for her.”

“One time in high school I accidentally slapped a girl in the vagina,” says Mikka.  “We were making out like crazy people, I was clumsy and awkward, I shifted from an uncomfortable position and stumbled, then… snatch smack.  Sure fire way to end a hook-up…”

“I’m not sure how much damage a vag slap would cause, but it would definitely confuse a bitch,” says Ninja Vicki.  “And while her brain is thinking ‘Did I just get slapped in the vagina?’ I slash that bitch’s throat.  I’m remembering this for my next high school class reunion.”

“At no point in my time as a bouncer at a lesbian bar have I ever considered a slap to the female privates as an effective way to subdue someone,” says Samurai Cathy.  “There are much better way to obtain compliance.  An assortment of wrist locks and joint manipulations. Nerve holds. Slicing off their hand.  But slapping the vagina… not something in my bouncer’s toolbox.  No need to box the box.”

If anyone out there executes, or has executed, a proper cunt smack, please let us know.

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Your pets, however, are still soulless and hellbound

May 23, 2013

I think the Pope is drunk. That’s because he’s saying anyone can get into heaven now, like he’s the wasted friend who declares at the bar that the party’s continuing back at your place.

“The Lord created us in His image and likeness, and we are the image of the Lord, and He does good and all of us have this commandment at heart: do good and do not do evil. All of us. ‘But, Father, this is not Catholic! He cannot do good.’ Yes, he can… “The Lord has redeemed all of us, all of us, with the Blood of Christ: all of us, not just Catholics. Everyone! ‘Father, the atheists?’ Even the atheists. Everyone!”.. We must meet one another doing good. ‘But I don’t believe, Father, I am an atheist!’ But do good: we will meet one another there.”

“Thank you for telling me something I had no concern about,” I say, being an atheist.  “You might as well have told me I could get into fucking Narnia or Middle Earth or Westeros or whatever fantasy novel world you happen to be reading.”

“So atheists can get into Catholic heaven without doing all that Catholic bullshit like going to confession or not eating meat on Fridays during Lent or the Virgin Birth?” Bernie the Half-Cyborg Cat says. “Then why stay Catholic if you can get the same result with half the effort and guilt?  You’re diluting the brand, Frannie!  You used to be that nightclub that only let a few people in, now you’ve turned it into a TGIFriday’s.”

“You have to die in battle to go Valhalla,” says Mikka.  “The valkyries don’t just take anyone because they think they’re swell.”

“That really has to sting the people who think atheists and gays and other non-believers are automatically hellbound,” says Tina the Lesbian.  “Now I can tell my older relatives that I can lick as much sinful carpet as I want and I’ll still end up in the same afterlife location as them.  How do you like them apples, Nana!”

“I’m sure a bit later the Pope will preface his remarks by saying that non-Catholics and non-believers can get into heaven, but only if they’re like super good,”  says Ninja Vicki.  “Like there’s a scorecard for heaven and atheists are docked 70 points right from the start.  There’s a deficit you as an atheist have to overcome for not going to Mass or believing in Jesus while regular churchgoers don’t have to do as much to get into heaven.  Catholics get to play on Easy Mode; atheists have to play on the Hard difficulty level.”

“You’re all redeemed by the blood of Christ, but we’re still going to fight to not let gays adopt children or get married,” says Avonia the Wiccan Pimp.  “We can lower the threshold on who is possibly hellbound but we’re not about to start letting women hold any positions of power within the Church.  It’s apparently easier for the Catholic Church to bend the rules of the afterlife than to let women have any authority in its structure.”

“This strikes me as more of a marketing rebranding of the Church,” says Samurai Cathy.  “Like when Domino’s Pizza had those ads apologizing for how non-edible and awful their pizza used to be.  Now you have the new Pope cleaning up some of the mess left behind from Scary German Pope who didn’t give a flying fuck who the Church alienated.  Hey, remember how the old Catholic Church didn’t like you, try New and Improved Catholic Church – the one that likes everyone!”

If this keeps Catholics from giving atheists and Wiccans and gays the stink eye, great news.  Otherwise it has as much effect on my godless life as if the Pope had read out loud his recipe for red velvet cake.  It doesn’t affect me – I don’t believe there’s a God and I don’t bake desserts.

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Did Flipper fire six shots or only five?

March 15, 2013

You should be a regular Renal reader, and if you are then you’d know that dolphins will rape the shit out of you.  And if you aren’t a regular Renal reader then you wouldn’t know that until Ecco the Rapist grabs you with his prehensile penis and drags you down into his dolphin rape cave. But now the dolphins have upped their rape game…

Three of five dolphins taught by the Ukrainian navy to attack enemy combatants are reported missing after failing to return to a Crimean port following a training exercise earlier this month, the local media reports. The dolphins are believed to be out chasing tails.

Okay, not the first time we’ve heard about the military using dolphins.  The US has been using them to detect mines in the ocean. Why are these dolphins different?

But last year, RIA Novosti reported, the Ukrainian Navy restarted the program, training the dolphins to attack enemies with knives and guns attached to their heads. Photos showing the military-trained dolphins have frequently appeared in the Ukrainian press, but the country’s defense department has consistently denied the reports.

“We’re arming dolphins???”  says Bernie the Half-Cyborg Cat, who is a weaponized feline.  “Why would you give something with a prehensile penis a gun?  This is unacceptable, arming seafood like this, and I will not stand for it!  Fetch me my harpoon gun attachment!”

“So not only will dolphins rape you, they will now rape you at knife point,” says Tina the Lesbian.  “Great, now SeaWorld’s going to need a Special Victims Unit.”

“Armed dolphins on the loose, looking for female dolphins to mate with,” says Ninja Vicki.  “Sounds like some crazy B-movie.  Sex-Crazed Military Dolphins From the Ukraine – a watery romp of violence and animal passion.  A perfect Russ Meyer vehicle.”

And interesting note in the story…

“Control over dolphins was quite common in the 1980′s,” Yury Plyachenko, a former Soviet naval anti-sabotage officer, told RIA Novosti, a Russian news source. “If a male dolphin saw a female dolphin during the mating season, then he would immediately set off after her. But they came back in a week or so.”

“At least these dolphins have their priorities straight,” says Anonymous Doug.  “I’ve ditched work a few time to go fuck a chick.  That’s a much better use of my day and I’m glad there’s a mammal that agrees with me.  In fact, tomorrow I think I’ll call out horny to work in tribute to our Ukrainian dolphin friends.”

“So the male dolphin mates with the female dolphin then tells her, ‘Hey baby, that was fun but I gotta get to work,’” says Mikka.  “Then swims on back to the humans like he wasn’t gone.  Dolphins are fucking smooth – except for all the raping they do.”

“So why doesn’t the Ukraine use female dolphins as part of their killer dolphin program?”says Avonia the Wiccan Pimp.  “They don’t say that female dolphins just up and leave when they spot a male dolphin go by.  Perhaps female dolphins don’t like knives and guns like the males do.”

“Do the weapons help the dolphin score a mate?” asks Samurai Cathy.  “Does the male dolphin swim up to the female and say ‘Hey baby, I’ve mastered the use of weapons, does that get you hot?’  Does that line work?  Because it would work on me if I were a dolphin.”

We heard about this story on the same day word got to us about the dolphin that’s swimming around in the East River in New York.  This particular dolphin hasn’t sexually assaulted anyone yet, nor is it armed like his horny Ukranian brethren, but we must stay vigilant against the dolphin menace. And also I enjoy saying “dolphin rape cave.”

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Taking a bite out of crime with a side of fava beans and a nice chianti

March 13, 2013

So they voted an Argentinian to be the Pope… not a surprise.  If you’ve got stuff to hide, Argentina’s your place.  The fuckers hid Nazis, they can certainly hide molestation charges.  This is barely worth our time and effort.

Hey, what’s this story over here… Cannibal Cop?

“Cannibal cop” Gilberto Valle is looking at the possibility of life in prison after a Manhattan federal jury found him guilty of conspiring to kidnap women, then cook, kill and eat them.

White smoke has been spotted at Renal Failure headquarters, a worthy news story has been chosen!

“Cannibal Cop needed to use his craving for human flesh for good,” says Mikka.  “You’re not going to jail, punk!  You’re going in my belly!”

“He has a peculiar taste… FOR JUSTICE!” I say.  “Cannibal Cop!  Because to uphold the law in this city, you need to be hungry!”

“I don’t like the wording in that sentence,” says Tina the Lesbian.  “Kidnap, then cook, kill, and eat them.  Makes it sound like he was going to cook the women before killing them, like how you drop live lobsters into boiling water.  I guess Cannibal Cop liked his human flesh done rare.  Obviously he wasn’t into free-range humans.”

Prosecutors contended the city cop was “a sexual sadist” who had been seeking guidance online for how to abduct, torture, rape, cook, kill and eat women, including his wife, two old college friends and an Archbishop Molloy High School softball star.

Their key piece of evidence was Valle’s family computer, which had been handed over to the feds by Valle’s wife of three months, Kathleen Mangan-Valle, after she discovered his horrifying plans.

“There’s his problem right there – talking about this stuff online,” says Anonymous Doug.  “And not wiping his browser history.  How does a cop not know do that?  How does anyone not know to do that?  That’s basic Internet operating law: don’t click on weird Russian links, most girls on the internet are actually guys, and always wipe your browser history.”

“He’s going online to figure out how to do criminal acts?” says Ninja Vicki.  “You work in a police station, dude!  Go read some case files and figure out how the real criminals did their shit!  How do I kidnap someone? You’re a fucking cop!  You have handcuffs and taser.  Put two and two together, you fucktard.”

“You go online to figure out little shit, like how to change a headlight bulb or how to make your sneakers stop squeaking,” says Bernie the Half-Cyborg Cat.  “Not how to start your own dungeon of horrors.  Gary Heidnik, Jeffrey Dahmer, Ted Bundy… they all did fine doing sick shit without the benefit of the Internet.”

In July, Valle had emailed one of his creepy co-conspirators pictures of his friend Kimberly Sauer in the days before he and his wife were having brunch with her in Maryland — along with a document called “Abduction and Cooking of Kimberly: A Blueprint.”

“Sadly, he probably wouldn’t have been found guilty if his kidnap-and-cannibalize manual had been in the form of Internet fan-fiction,” says Avonia the Wiccan Pimp.  “Twilight, Buffy, anything anime… he would have been just another creep on the Internet instead of a ticking cannibal time bomb.”

“I’m wondering how many drafts it took before Cannibal Cop felt comfortable letting someone else read his wank fantasy book,” says Samurai Cathy.  “Probably less than the amount of drafts O.J. Simpson did when he wrote ‘If I Did It.’  That’s what separates talented writers from the rest of the Internet pack – editing.”

The line between fantasy and reality is crossed when you start substantially investing in your fantasy in the real world, which is why no one can ever know about my basement laboratory where I’m building my secret army of Kylie Minogue-bots dressed as Catholic school girls.  NO ONE!

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Now do they provide the scimitar, or do you have to bring your own?

March 11, 2013

I’m having some of those Cool Ranch Doritos Locos tacos for breakfast, because I need more vegetables in my diet and I love Cool Ranch Doritos, and Ninja Vicki comes in through my window.

“Do you have any frequent flyer miles I can steal?” says Ninja Vicki.

“No, I don’t go anywhere,” I say.  “Where are you flying to?”

“Saudi Arabia,” says Ninja Vicki.  “I might be moving there for good for a job.”

“I thought ninjaneering was your job,” I say.

“This new job seems more secure and viable long-term,” says Ninja Vicki.  “I’m going to be a beheader for the government.”

Ninja Vicki shows me this story about how the government of Saudi Arabia may switch from beheadings to firing squads as their method of capital punishment because of a lack of swordsmen in their population.

“You’ve got the sword and you know how to swing it,” I say.  “But I always saw you as more of a stabber than a slicer.  I kind of see Samurai Cathy as more suited for beheading.”

“But she won’t wear the head covering and mask,” says Ninja Vicki.  “I’ve already got the mask ’cause I’m a ninja.”

“It doesn’t matter because they’re not going to let you do the beheadings anyway,” I say.  “They don’t let women drive, let alone wield a weapon to carry out the will of Allah on criminals.”

“Maybe I can be the first,” says Ninja Vicki.  “I could be the Rosa Parks of beheading over in Saudi Arabia.”

“Yeah… here’s a Pro-Tip: anytime a white person has the notion of saying they’re going to be the Rosa Parks of something, they need to slam their hand with a hammer,” I say.  “Anything to stop themselves from saying something that fucking stupid.”

“Should I have used Jackie Robinson instead?” says Ninja Vicki.  “That might be more apropos, because I would be tearing down the barrier of Saudis not letting women behead criminals with my superior beheading skills.”

“Sure, that works,” I say.  “But you’re never going there because it’s 500 degrees over there and no matter how hot it gets they’re going to stone you for being an immodest whore as soon as you walk out in your lycra tanktop because we all know you stop wearing sleeves once the temperature goes over 70.”

“But I would be such a great beheader,” pouts Ninja Vicki.  “Where else am I going to get such an awesome job?  Where else are they taking heads on behalf of the state?”

“I’m sure the Taliban will still cut off heads if given the chance,” I say.  “But you’re going to run into the same problems of being an immodest whore to them.”

“Damn it, I just want to chop people’s heads off for money and maybe some healthcare benefits and perhaps a pension too!”  says Ninja Vicki.  “Why can’t get I that in America?”

“Surprisingly beheading isn’t really that American,” I say.  “The closest we had was scalping.  Or when they fucked up a hanging and the guy’s head would snap off.  I guess shooting people in the head is close too, but it’s not the same as cutting someone’s head off.  Unless we teach the drones how to decapitate people.”

That’s America. We will electrocute you, gas you, lethal inject you, shoot you… but for the most part we won’t chop your head off.

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Jane Austen couldn’t write a fight scene to save her life

February 22, 2013

It seems like I’ve had a constant cold for the past month or so, where just as one cold was ending the next one was beginning.  And as I’m in the downswing of my current bout with the cold virus, I’ve noticed I’ve let a few things get past me during this time.  One was the prediction my friend made after the Presidential election (briefly mentioned in this post) when she got mad at all her Obama-aligned Facebook colleagues who were celebrating:

By the end of December, the stock market will suffer a major crash as people pull their money out to beat the new taxes taking effect in 2013. Businesses who cannot afford to cover their employees with health insurance will immediately begin either cutting jobs entirely or dropping most of their employees down to part-time to avoid the heavy fines that will levied against them otherwise. Gas prices will spike back up above $4 a gallon, heading up to $5. Be prepared for this to happen – and I don’t expect to hear any complaints from those who are celebrating this evening.

Even spotting her an extra month, none of this happened. The Dow Jones, NASDAQ and S&P500 are all up over 6 percent since the election. Job numbers for December and January are up.  Gas still isn’t 4 bucks but the idea that oil companies would raise prices just because they have a sad that Obama got reelected is a golden idea, in that it pisses over the image of capitalists as rugged captains of industry and makes them look more like the awful human beings featured on MTV’s My Super Sweet Sixteen.  So let’s all remember this lesson: don’t make predictions when you’re angry.

We’re also behind on doing the blog award stuff for our friend Kate, who awarded us the Liebster Award that had been passed on to her.  Hopefully we’ll get to that this weekend, considering we’ve blown off pretty much every other one of these blog award things over the years.

What else got past us… oh, it was Valentine’s Day, which I spent coming down with flu-like symptoms and I tried fighting them with a steady stream of rum and cokes to unsatisfactory effects.  Usually we have something bitter for Valentine’s Day, so let’s make up for it with something dumb we saw over at FoxNews.com regarding love: “Four Things Jane Austen Teaches Us About Love:”

1. Play hard to get. Don’t be so aggressive. When women make themselves so available to men, the thrill of the chase is gone. The harder you are to “catch,” the more interesting you become.

“I don’t want to chase your dumb ass,”  says Anonymous Doug.  “I ain’t got time for that shit. You know who’s interesting? A bitch that doesn’t play bullshit games like this.  Thrill of the chase is lie. Ever see a high-speed police chase? Yeah, that shit is thrilling until ends, then that shirtless meth-head gets dragged out of his overturned pick-up truck and beaten retarded by six pissed-off cops.  Fuck the chase – give it up early or don’t give it up at all. Save all of us some time and misery.”

“Seeing the picture of the woman who wrote this article, her definition of interesting probably consists of what popped up on her Dilbert calendar that day,” says Tina the Lesbian.  “And considering her previous article written for FoxNews.com was titled “To Be Happy, We Must Admit That Women and Men Aren’t ‘Equal,” I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mind making less money than her male counterparts for writing dreck just as long as every now and then one of her male bosses pats her on the head and tells her she’s a good patriarchal tool.”

2. Wait for sex. I know it’s chic to think of yourself as a sex goddess. And maybe you are. But the truth is, if you present yourself this way to a man—in the way you dress and behave—he’ll respond in kind. If you want to be the one he brings home to mom, make him earn your love. And your body.

“If you’re truly a sex goddess, he will respond by worshiping your sensual form,” says Avonia the Wiccan Pimp.  “She makes the phrase ‘earn your love’ sound like it’s something you do on a game show rather than through getting to know your partner in whatever ways you consent.”

“Why wouldn’t mom want you to bring home a sex goddess?” says Bernie the Half-Cyborg Cat.  “Maybe mom wants to see her son happy with a decent looking woman rather than some dour frump who will suck the life out of him until he inevitably cheats on her with his secretary or puts a bullet in his brain to end the misery.”

3. Make your guy feel important. Sure, you’re self-sufficient. And he is, too. But everybody wants to feel valued. Men in particular. What’s wrong with letting him take care of things every once and a while? After all, why would he keep coming around if you give him the impression he has nothing to offer?

“Yeah, the male psyche can be fragile, but it can be easily repaired,” says Mikka.  “But you’re already trying to take sex out of the game, which is like playing hockey constantly shorthanded.  Yeah, you can do it, but you’d do so much better with a full complement of players on the ice.  Fuck him, feed him, let him watch the game, dress up like She-Ra ever now and again… it’s not hard to make a guy feel important.”

4. Put down your sword. Despite what you’ve heard, men don’t love b*tches. They like nice women. Strong and confident women, yes. But nice. They can go hand in hand. Really.

“Fuck you, my sword is awesome!”  says Ninja Vicki.  “Men love women with swords.  If you’re a woman and you can’t think of an accessory to pull your outfit together, pick up a sword and be a bad-ass.  Don’t see that in any dusty-vag Jane Austen novel, do ya?”

“I’m very nice, and my sword makes sure everything stays nice,” says Samurai Cathy.  “And though it pains me to echo the sentiments of my blood enemy – fuck you, my sword is awesome too!”

I believe one time I tried an online dating site and it asked me what kind of woman I was looking for, so I typed in “BITCHES WITH SWORDS!”  Surprisingly they wouldn’t let me keep that, but I fully stand by the sentiment: bitches with swords – those are the ladies I’m giving my attention to.  Oh, you studied Romantic Literature and crochet things on Etsy?  How nice.  See that woman over there?  She’s ready to fight the Kurgan from Highlander.  Enjoy your mojito. Swords are like boots, in that they can up a girl on the 10-point hotness meter by at least two points.  It’s worked for years on the covers of fantasy novels – I’m just bringing it out of Narnia and into the singles bar.

Jane Austen novels would have been a lot more readable if they had more bitches with swords in them.  I know I got halfway through Pride, Prejudice and Zombies before getting bored with it, which is a lot more than I was able to stomach of the original Pride & Prejudice in high school.

BITCHES WITH SWORDS!  That’s what 2013 should be the year of.

cathy smallnote

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