By Martin "The Baron" Hubley
Some of my faithful readers may know this, but for others it may come as something of a shock: I am otherkin. I'm not ashamed to say it. My body is inhabited by the spirit of an elder dragon which goes by the name of Nga'thhlt (a name which many humans have trouble pronouncing, so I simply call him Stryyker.) My lizard soul gives me powers beyond your wildest imaginings, powers which I have displayed and proven many a time. But still there are those who make fun of me and call me names. Hear this humans: No matter what you think of us, this does NOT give you the right to interfere with our lifes! For if you do, we shall fight back with all our might!

As I said in my last article about spam, spam emails just aren't fooling anyone anymore. But that doesn't stop them from trying. Well maybe trying isn't the right word. Let's just say that it isn't stopping them from "continuing to send out easily ignored emails which are seemingly just a randomly generated series of sentences punctuated by gibberish". Not that I'm complaining or anything. I love them.

So in honor (honour) of my torrid love affair with email spam, here are a few more lovely poems I've received from the spambots.

This week on Weird News & Links: Murderous lard thieves, Hitler's vintage automobile, dispatches from the television series Sister Sister, and the insane ramblings of an adult man who believes he has the soul of an ancient elf.
 
So yeah, pretty much just another normal week.

There hasn't been much written about cowboys these days. You might assume that this is because cowboys are boring (and you would be right), but luckily for you, I'm not one to shy away from subjects which are "boring" or "stupid" or "a waste of everyone's valuable time".

So after an exhaustive period of exhaustive research, I've compiled my findings into this article, which should serve to answer the most common cowboy-related questions I often receive such as: "What do Cowboys Do All Day?" "Are All Cowboys Gay?" and "I Don't Give a Shit What a Cowboy is. Stop Talking About Cowboys You Jackass".
 
So here look here, Cowboys:

Yeah, so Youtube blocked embedding on this video so I had to post embed it from somewhere else. Apparently Lionsgate films wants to ensure that the fewest number of people possible are able to watch scenes from Substitute 2: School's Out. Can't say I blame them.

Higher quality youtube link is HERE, if you prefer.

Well of course I'll post some more pointless photos of people in dumb costumes.
How terribly LOVELY of you to ask!

By Martin "The Baron" Hubley
As many of you may be aware, I am quite practitioner of watching amazing movies. I often get requests from my friends for recommendations of what movies I think are the "Best Ever". "The Baron" they have been known to say to me, "There are so many movies out there! What's the quint's essential film I can watch to increase my carnal knowledge of movies and films?" The answer, I always have to tell them, is not so simple that can be said in a single sentence. So I decided to head them off at the past by creating this essential short list of what I believe to be the greatest movies ever made.  
 
These are not only high budget studio picks either, I've also included some lower budget (AKA "Indy" films) on this list for your viewing pleasure. So sit back, pop open a Dew and a bag of Poffs, and enjoy this fun-soaked ride into movie greatness.

I've translated this week's introduction into a bunch of different random languages and then tried to get it back to english to make it more interesting, but it didn't really work out exactly how I had planned. Here it is anyway:
 
Dan dan Salam Hello all I'm sure you enjoyed reading the Sunday edition of Weird THIS Berit give link. Together we will plumb the dark The depth of palisade Internet, we can STORY THAT HAS FALLEN Tolerance tale Retako ITU our Collective. And rag like you!
 
Right? Anyway here's stuff.
 

When Sasquatch awoke it was still dark. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he rolled over on the rocky ground and looked over at the boy. He was asleep, curled in the blue plastic tarp they had found in the deserted filling station. Sasquatch could see that his condition had worsened. His nearly translucent skin clung corpselike to his cheekbones, and his eyes were sunken and dark. Even in sleep he drew breath in ragged, wheezing gasps. Grunting softly, Sasquatch used a paw to smooth the boy's thinning hair.
 
The sun began to rise. Slowly, the dusty air around them took on a grimy reddish-grey cast. Sasquatch climbed to his feet, stretching and brushing out the red soot which had settled on his fur during the night. He shook the boy gently to wake him, and once each had taken a drink of murky water from the canteen, Sasquatch lifted the boy onto the rear seat of the bicycle built for two, and they set off towards Dusttown.

By Martin "The Baron" Hubley
Not to brag or anything, but around my hometown I'm known as a bit of a philantherer. For those who are unfamiliar with the term, a philantherer is someone who loves giving back to the community! So it wouldn't be at all out of the ordinary to see me feeding an elderly woman chicken tenders at the food court, or even helping a little boy in the Sears dressing room squeeze into a cute new pair of jeans. Hey what can I say? I guess I just enjoy being a good person!
 
Unfortunately not everyone is as big a fan of good deeds and charity as I am. There are still plenty of folks out there who don't know how to be good citizens. One of the most offensive things I've noticed is that hardly anyone knows how to treat a handicap. It's hard to believe, I know, but trust me, in my lifetime I've seen it all. I've seen ticket takers make a woman in a wheelchair wait in line for popcorn at the theater. I've seen a dwarve denied access to rollercoaster because of height requirements. I've even seen drivers honk at someone with a handicapped sticker who cut them off. It's a cold world out there, but luckily I'm here to help.
 
Read on to see my advice on how to properly treat someone who is under the influence of handicap.

Hey! Newsflash: Being ignored by emotionally distant parents and raised by a television set doesn't grant you the right to traumatize the rest of us by making us look at something dumb. Either get over it or learn to start abusing prescription medications like everyone else. But until that day, could you please knock it off with the "Dressing up semiironically as one of the shitty cartoon characters I vaguely remember from my loveless childhood" crap already?
 
And for chrissake, if you DO insist on it, at least make the costume yourself. Otherwise you might end up looking like one of these people.

   

This week: Jesus, child abuse, Quantum Leap & Kidz Bop. I've also featured a great site for anyone looking to purchase ghosthunting supplies. So if anyone out there has got one of the many mental disabilities or conditions which may cause a person to believe that spirits are actually real and is also a fan of exploiting the uneducated, be sure to check that out.
 
Also, just a quick request here: if anyone reading this happens to be an "actual" ghosthunter (or even believes in ghosthunters) I would ask that you please stop reading this now. You are dumb.

Let's be honest here: A person usually has to be pretty dense to be fooled by a spam email these days. I mean seriously, they really aren't even trying anymore. You can usually tell a spam email by its subject line, which is almost always something about discount pills, penis size, or some half-assed generic and obviously fabricated message like "Some photos of the cute kids..." or "Having a great time on our family vacation!".

Lately though, I've come across a new and fascinating type of spam. It seems that in a desperate (and failed) attempt to bypass filters, some spammers seem to have resorted to copying random lines of text from different pieces of literature or poems and combining them to form emails. And although this system does strike me as a tremendous waste of everyone's time and effort, I do enjoy the hilariously strange poems which were unintentionally created as a result of it.

Here are some of my favorites:

For the third (and final) entry in my hard-hitting fictional awarding of honors to the titles of various daytime television shows I decided to take a look at Maury, which is a talk show which "is often accused by critics of exploiting dysfunctional families, minorities, and the poor, and for embracing and sensationalizing some of the worst stereotypes of American society and behavior [and] some critics denounce it as being even worse than other similar talk shows such as The Jerry Springer Show, due to what is perceived as an insincere sympathy for the guests and using their serious problems for the entertainment and humor of the viewing audience."
 
So while I'm sure a show of this caliber is sure to have garnered many prestigious awards already, I might as well heap a few more onto the pile. My feeling has always been that you can't overpraise good work.

According to some random quotation site I found, Hulk Hogan once claimed that he was "way into writing". I sincerely hope this is true, because if it is it means that I might some day be able to read something Hulk Hogan has written in order that I might see if he ends every other sentence with "brother" like he does when he talks. I really do enjoy the way he does that.
 
But in the interest of full disclosure: This article really has almost nothing at all to do with Hulk "Brother" Hogan. He is also not dead, contrary to what the wording of the title may imply. So let's just say that in celebration of his non-death, I've come up with a bunch of links to Hulk-Related (read: not even remotely Hulk-Related) things I found on the internet this week.

This is the last straw. Last night I couldn't get all of the yogurt I was eating out of the bottom of the container so I reached in with my finger to scoop some out and I cut myself a little bit on the rim. There's only a certain amount of injustice a man (or me) can be subjected to before he snaps. And I've reached that point. By God, I've reached it.

So I'm sending a message to the Fat Cats over at Yoplait corporate expressing my deepest feelings and most intimate of desires with regards to the future of my relationship with their yogurt products. Something has to change. They had better provide adequate explanation about what is being done to address my concerns. If they don't, there is going to be hell to pay.