Flex/Admin is gone.  He doesn't know it yet, but he
has been fired from the site because we got a bad
review.  Ok, I'm kidding.  He was 'let go' because of
how this blog is being run between the two of us.
There is obvious differences in the way we blog, and
because of these multiple ways of writing and humor we
are conveying, I had to let one of us go.  And it
isn't me.

Now, this has nothing to do with you Josh.  Don't be
angry, get even.  I want you to go out and make a
better blog.  I'm slowing you down.

:).  I'm kidding, I am above all of you in greatness
and my penis is at least 10 inches bigger.  There we
go with the toilet humor again.  I want to see less of
that.  So, I'm opening up Jabu Erotica again.  For me.
And maybe some people that can participate in MY
vision for this site.  Meaning: I don't want this
thing to suck anymore.  Maybe a fresh start is what we
all need.

So, for the rest of you, you're in for new things.
Wonderfully, amazing, Jabu Erotica-ized things.  And
maybe we'll cut down on the dick jokes.

for those of you who might be forgetting just how awsome jabu and i are during this temporary absence, perhaps a visit to the older posts might be benificial

watching angry porn makes me evil, for a little bit.

fashionistas is probably the coolest s & m porno ever.

r and b gets tons more awsome than it already is when your drunk.

i finally got my opining sequince posted for my piece of crap novell posted at www.comicripoff.blogdrive.com

At least no one can blame me for being 17.

jeremy and i went to the factory of terrors last night on a quest to hug evil clown leah (fig. a)

we pretended to be scared, to make her feel better about her evil clowning abilitys. jeremy called the people in the haunted house pathetic, then he suggested that we should get jobs their next year. then he played with april, and i secretly put a curse on that damn tomagotchi. and if my last name was gotchi, i would totally name my kid "tom andy gotchi"

You know what's funny? Lots of things. You know what isn't funny? Retarded insults glossed over by big and bad words. Josh seems to think that lies and unrealistic stories are funny, and not a waste of time. By putting other people down with, well, retarded portrayals of their person, Josh's esteem boosts, and he feels better about how he did.

what the fuck? you fucking pieces of shit need to just fucking curl up and die because i don't give a shit stained prick about any of you. fuck you, and fuck your parents. i only fucking thank god for your dads ED, cuz there might have been even more ass fucking whipes like you leaching your fucking sustanance off of the rest of the god fucking damn world. everybody on earth does their god damned part to help out but you little fucking cunt monkeys, and i am tired of wathcing you sit on your fat fucking asses watching the rest of the world like your not even a fucking part of it. why don't you stick you head back in your mommas loose ass pussy cuz you might as well not have even been fucking born, for all the fucking good you're doing the rest of the fucking world. nobody, nobody at all, want's to see your god damned ugly butt munch raggedy assed faces any more. kill yourself, but before you do, make sure you kill any little shit heads that might have been brought into their unfortunate existance because you're not smart enough to figure out the condom.

anyway, jeremy and cathy and i went out for play auditions last night. i did ok, but i'm worried about . if he ever sees the audition tape i think he'll kill himself. i know i would, if i'd gone up on stage and not even realized that there was a big brown spot on the back of my pants. plus the stuttering and pronounciation errors. everybody was nice though, and at least pretended he did a good job. the director said she'd call everyone next weekend to tell them weither they got a part or not, but if i were her i wouldn't even bother calling jeremy¢. calling him and having to tell him exactly what he did wrong would be torture for everyone involved. maybe if we get him a mask they'll let him work with the stage crew.

C. Everett Koop
FORMER SURGEON GENERAL

To Whom it May Concern,

Hello. My name is C. Everett Koop, you may recognize me from such administrations as President Reagan's and President Bush's. I am writing to assure you that Chelsea was, in fact, a very, very sick girl on December 2, when your History department administered an examination to the students of History 101, of which Chelsea is, and remains to be, a diligent and industrious student.

A horrible sickness it was indeed, ravaging poor Chelsea's fragile immune system, leaving her weak and incapacitated for a period of 24 hours, perhaps less. It's hard to tell because, being the valiant trooper that she is, young Chelsea, against the sagely advice of former Surgeon General C. Everett Koop (me), decided to go out and get some fresh air to aid h er in her stuggle against this vile malady.

It was there, at Palo Alto Mall, that poor sickly Chelsea happened to see Professor Schmaltz. That Professor Schmaltz didn't take it upon himself to drive Chelsea home immediately shocks, and personally disturbs me. What kind of a "man" lets a 17-year-old girl, delirious with fever, walk around the Palo Alto Mall? Further, that he claims to have noticed no signs of fever or sickness in Chelsea strickes me as ludicrous. Tate it from me, former Surgeon General C. Everett Koop, the sickly blue hue on Chelsea's mouth was not "from a slurpie" as Professor Schmaltz callously claims but the tell-tale signs of Chelsea's embattled immune system.

And before we cast aspersions upon this young innocent, let us cast into doubt the aspersion-caster himself. Was the Professor simply "pitching pennies into the wishing fountain," as he claimed, or was it something far more sinister? Perhaps he was "wishing" to be one of these nubile young mall-girls himself, prancing around in Catholic-school plaid miniskirts and knee-highs, giggling at cute boys and waiting to be impregnated. Pure conjecture? Perhaps. But who would you rather believe? Me, former Surgeon General C. Everett Koop or some freaky, Communist, cross-dressing professor?

Sincerely,
C. Everett Koop
Former Surgeon General

so i'm  here in visual basic 1. i got my assignment done 5 miniuts into the period, and for the rest of the time i am sitting around on my ass in this intensly comfortable chair, using the com to play my favorite cd, and posting in my blog. after i'm done i might take a nap.