FLEAMARKET BONANAZAAAA OF VAALYOUSE!

Some crap I dug up at a fleamarket recently. Gots to love fleamarkets.
It was hosted at an old drive-in theater.
One area looked like a dollar store had exploded.

Use it repeatedly. For a long time.

This sucker caught my eye real fast. What's mo' funny than lampin' on our nation's drug issues? Well, ass crack jokes to hang on the wall. Seriously, there was a special section for this. Which was right next to a bin full of high falutin' sections with philosophers' and writers' names.

Mutha-lovin' JAZZY CATS TRIO!
Damn right they need to be featured on an explosive blasty background.
A jazzy blast.
This layout should be taught in all design schools.

ONCE OWN, NOTHING CAN INSTEAD!

Amalgamation of left over superhero parts unite!
All children should only get fucked up left over mash up toys like this.
It builds character.
ROLL CALL!

PUDDIN' HEAD MUSCLE SPIDER WITH POISON DIRK!
"Fear me criminals, for I will stick you.

BIG JAWMAN WITH NO ACTION ACCESSORY!
I need no tools to cause pain, only my massive jawline.

FLESHY HEADED GORILLA GEM-CHESTOR WITH DUAL PIZZA BLADE
When my gem flashes, wrong doers drop like flies.

Together now: ALL HEROES COME!

SHIP GUN. NUMBER ONE.

This hit io9 the other day, so que the kids' internets postz complaints about how this is suuuuuuuuuuch a Battlestar rip-off. >>>>>> Wave motion to the face!

Bzzzzernkwhhhheeeeeeeoooooooooooooo. Retards.

But, on the lighter side. Hooray Japan!

DESSLOCK! DESSLOCK-DESSLOK! DESSLOCK! DESSLOCK-DESSLOK!

I'M THINKIN' OF GETTIN' TO THAT "HOT COP" LEVEL OF FIT

Local arty businesses located in converted old tyme mills are great. This pole dancin' place is located right across from an old man who hand makes violins.

NO, NOT SCHLITZ! SAY IT AIN'T SO!

You got to have a whole bunch of other selections on hand in your store if you want to rock the "shitty beer" fridge.

OLD FUCKED UP BASEMENT, MEET MOSTLY LESS TOXIC BASEMENT

More excitement updates to the max! The old ass basement walls were totally covered in banged up flaky painty paper junk and crumbly rock that constantly fell to the ground in nasty lil' chips n' clumps. They would then hitch a ride and track with you during your travels. Plus there were oddball fluffy white crystals growing on the old wood framework and some lovely spots of black mold thanks to a pair of sweet, rotting metal pipes dripping rust colored stagnant water. It was like a friggin' jams and jellies page from the Monster Manual.

But, a pair of Portugese dudes, who were way bummed about their nation's World Cup performance, came in and cast Dimension Door on all that nasty shit. Well most of the nasty nasty shit. I still had to sweep and punish Old B.O.B. with more dusty doom once they were through. The new walls are uniform in color, now that they are dry, do not flake horrible particles into the air and generally make the dingy dungeon look and smell a hell of a lot better. Not sure what to do with all the awesome hanging plug sockets and switches now that the old stupid framework is gone - but I'll take it and save my Yellow Ochre battles for the tabletop.

VOTIN' DAY IS TOMORROW, GET THE VOTE OUT FOR THE PUNISHER...AND JC.

Oh man, who knew I'd be so stoked about local elections?
VOTE PUNISHER!

If you only read his little card and got stoked about him killing the mafia and look at the photo that could maybe pass as some sorta Frank Castle, you'd vote Punisher. Curious, you search YouTube and discover he is the most awesome kook who ever got kicked out of a mayoral debate while holding a 5 ft Mary statue and proposing to his girlfriend mid-debate. But then you switch on the telly and get an earful of biblical horror. The host in the segment below should get a fully paid vacation to the tropical paradise of her choice for putting on one of the best "holy shit this is real" smiles followed by some fantastic diversion conversation tactics to avoid TV disaster. (takes about 45 seconds to get to the good stuff)

So I ask you as you stand in your house hiiiiigh upon the hill:
Are yooooouuuuu looooost?

Fuck.

WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS BOX? OH WAIT I KNOW! I'LL SHAME MYSELF IN PUBLIC!

Let's bask in others failures who then put it on the internets because they believe they've won a prize. Especially the failure of one of my favorite dork sub-groups: cardboard cosplay dweebs. Die in a fire! Go!

For the Emperor! I hope it doesn't rain! I wet 'em!

Saggy Baggy Load.

We paid money for for the honor of beng mocked.

You will never get the Necronomicon!

That dog from Road Warrior fell on hard times after his Dinky-Di contract ran out.

Repulsors working just fine...

Google it, prepare for horror. Good job kid.

An old fave. Cardboard Tau for the win! Again!

OK, this one is rad. You get a pass.

This is fucking art. Take note all you cosplay goons.

To quote Suicidal Tendencies most well known song. "All I wanted was a Pepsi".

SKYPE HAS TURNED ME INTO A TERRORIST

All it took was a few late night missives with my cohort The Shirtless Skull. Before I even knew what was happening, I had donned the garb of Weirdball, the lost soviet tanker. (In Soviet Russia, an Oddball is you!)

Beware capitalist pig free world pigs, we seek the destruction of stop lights and the complete downfall of all movies post Original Gangsters to prop up the rise of an all Fred Williamson run world where only Italians can shoot films - though without any live sound (so they can order cappuccino and pizza at the same time) that has to be dubbed in later. Oh, and only practical effects, no money fed pig pig CGI Western ideals. ALALALALALLALALALALALALALALALALALALAALLLLAAAAAAAAAAA!

WHO KNEW?

Tucked inside the curtain rod box was a pamphlet with an odd surprise.
ORLY CURTAIN RODS!

IT'S A SALE ON SMART PEOPLE! or MATH, NOT GOD (SUCK IT NIETZSCHE!) IS DEAD.

OH HOW MUCH CAN I BE?
LOOK>>>>IZ CLEER TO I CAN TODAY!
I AM COUNT TO SIX NOW!
THNX U MAGIK MONEY CHARTZ!
I CAN HAZ TING NOW!

Fuck.