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Man. I got about halfway through that post before I realized it was a joke.

Here's a short story I wrote:

- Tommy -

9 am. I just woke up. It would be 3 more hours before I found the strength of will in me to get out of bed. When I did, my legs were cold and I wished I was back in bed again, but someone was at the door so I decided there was a possibility that it was maybe a very hot girl who wanted some early-afternoon hot sex. Or the postman, with a package. It's probably the postman with some sort of package. On my way to answer the door, I made an effort to look as tired as possible, as if to say - "You bastard. Look what you've done. I'm so fucking tired and you've woken me up. You inconsiderate piece of shit". Sadly, when I looked at myself as I walked past the mirror I realized I looked more like a homeless person who had puked all over the left side of his face and slept in it, than any sort of sympathetic figure.
I was right, it was the postman.
"Er, I've got something you need to sign for..sir" He said, blatantly staring at the encrusted bits of regurgitated food and other substances that didn't belong on my face.
"I need a pen, goddamnit! I don't have a fucking pen!" I screamed, unnessaccarily.
"Calm down man, I've got a pen right here." The postman said. With his use of the word "man", I realised how young this postman was. I'd always pictured postmen as middle aged guys with red hair, wearing a blue uniform with a had. And they should have glasses too. This guy didn't have glasses. Little prick.
"This pen doesn't work!" I bawled in anger.
"Really? Just shake it, or something." He suggested.
"HOW ABOUT I SHAKE YOU???" I screamed. I think it's possible I forgot to take my medication last night.
I grabbed the stupid little cocky fucker by the shoulders and threw him into my house. He hit his head on the edge of me coffee table. Fucking hell. How am I supposed to get that blood out. That little dick needs to pay for that, too. I started punching him vigorously in the face. Every punch was a payment for a new table.
"HAHAHAHAHAH, You little fucking shit." I yelled, thouroughly enjoying myself.
He stopped screaming.
The postman gave me a light slap on the cheek, it snapped me back.
"Hey, you okay there, man?" He asked, genuinely a bit concerned. I appreciated it.
"..Yeah, sorry." I responded. I signed the form and let the guy go.
Right then. Medication time.
I headed to the bathroom. I kept them in the cupboard above the sink. So, as you would when you wanted something out of it, I opened the cupboard.
Shit. They were finished. That meant I needed to go down to Dr. Hammonds. Man, I really hated that guy. With his far-too-round glasses, and his equally round head. He looked like a collection of unpleasant baloons squeezed together in an orgy of chubbiness. He was bald, too.
I grabbed my coat and ran out to my car. Well, I say "my car", but it's my mothers. She just lets me use it.
As I drove along the slightly busy, almost-city streets I almost burst into tears. I held back, cos when I let it out there's no stopping it. People make me sad, and angry. They're all so concerned with themselves, and what they need right now that they just fuck everyone else up until they get it. And often, they just fuck everyone else up because they can. That was what made me sad. What made me angry, was that I behaved the exact same way, and I blamed it on them. I'm just as bad, but as least I realized it.
Some fat trucker started tooting his horn behind me. The lights were green and I was too focused on what I was feeling to do any driving, so I parked the car just to the right and got out. Shit. No parking zone. Looks like I'll be getting a ticket. I started walking now, towards Hammond's office.
The walk helped clear my head. When you're outside, being angry starts to seem a bit stupid. At least for me anyway, it gives me a kind of clarity. Like, acceptance that everyone in the world is a complete asshole 90% of the time and all you can do is take it in, until they start thinking the same way as you. Suddenly all the sadness left me, too, and I had a strange feeling of hope in my gut. I don't know where it came from, two minutes ago I was ready to destroy the world, now I would fight to the death to defend it.

Man, I needed my fucking meds.

I think it'd be a good idea, and helpful, for a drama section in the collection pages of NG. There are quite a bunch of serious movies floating around these days, which I usually enjoy, and this would be helpful in finding the best ones.

This post is of course motivated out of complete selfishness, but I want to know if anyone else thought this would be a good idea?

People, stop suggesting places like the BBC and Channel 4. If you think they are going to accept a show called "Retarded Animal Babies", then YOU are a Retarded Animal Baby.

I suggest, as said, somewhere like Comedy Central or Adult Swim. I think you'd probably need to tone some aspects of it down to an extent, but I think RAB would fit in well on those networks.

I really hope this works out, cos I'd love to see RAB as a fully fledged series, as long as you kept the quality up of course.

Not that I'm sexist, but women are inferior to men in every way.
I mean, they don't even have penises!
What is up with that?

Anyway, No, Women aren't funny at all. With one or two exceptions of course. But women can't tell jokes and aren't very witty, in my experience.

Yo' wass' happ'nin homies,
Ah thought ah'd stick my shiz-nit in and give y'all
a holla'.
Yo' L-Frog, You're shit is hot man, ah watched Perfect Kirby 1 and it was wack,man, But ah think ah'll give PK2 a chance man, cos' if you think its all that, man
then it's gotta at least happ'nin.

TRANSLATION -----

Legendary Frog Sir I do most enjoy your work, Although
I think that Perfect Kirby is rather bad, I shall give Perfect Kirby 2 a chance.

HOLLA' !