Monday, 31 March 2014

A-Z Blogging Challenge

It's the most wonderful time of the year.  The A-Z Challenge is upon us once again, like a drunken date who won't take no for an answer and keeps sobbing profusely about an ex while rubbing themselves on you uncomfortably in the hopes of finding a small salvo of comfort. 

This event calls Blog owners from all corners of our box-shaped globe to post once a day throughout April.  Each day corresponds to a letter of the alphabet.  So you'll be pleased to learn that Muppets For Justice is competing in the challenge, meaning that you will have to read 26 posts from me throughout April!  You lucky, lucky people.

To give proceedings a slight kick, I have picked a theme for my challenge.  That theme is "Previous Jobs", which will give you an A-Z of my entire job history, along with several get-rich-quick schemes that I have partaken in.

Meanwhile, if you'd like to find out more about the A-Z challenge or even sign up yourself, you can do so right here:

Join me on Tuesday the 1st when proceedings will begin with the letter A.

Friday, 28 March 2014

Celebrity Gossip From Glaxxor The Space Lizard

Popular acting humanoid BRAD PITT was spotted purchasing goods and services in order to bring meaning to his brief existence. This columnist witnessed his transactions through a wall by detecting his heat signatures, so remain undetected as Brad purchased various electronic products at an exclusive store.  His intentions for the $5,000 iPod docking station remain baffling to this columnist, but is likely that he will add it to his nutri-chamber to provide entertainment during lengthy excursions across the galaxy.

Hot off the press, this columnist saw notable male JUSTIN BEIBER assault a small, subservient canine with his open palm. The assault was in response to excessive barking towards this columnist as I camouflaged into the bushes at Justin's LA nesting site. Justin failed to see the danger, even as he walked within spitting distance of my venom gland.

Renowned reproducers JAY Z and BEYONCE were sensed by this columnist as they boarded a flying  transport cylinder to a warmer climate. Judging from Beyonce's heat signature, she may well have a clutch of fertilized eggs inside her, and could be traveling to her original spawning grounds to lay those eggs on a beach.  Her homing instinct must be very strong. This columnist will monitor the situation and will try not to devour the tasty, nutritious yolks.

Speaking of celebrity couples, upright apes KIM KARDASHIAN and KANYE WEST were seen ensuring the survival of their offspring by shopping for infant clothes and furniture. They purchased nurturing apparatus and garments in the hopes that their youngling is not killed and eaten by a rival male. This columnist believes it is a foolish endeavour.

It's foolish to expend resources on protecting infants, when you can just spawn hundreds more

Preferred sexual mate of many humans, MILA KUNIS was observed engaging in heated conversation with an agent over a handheld communications device. Her vocal frequencies resembled the mating calls of my species. This columnist almost approached, but was afraid that she might bite my head off after sexual activity had ceased, in order to ensure she has enough energy to give birth. This would have rather affected the output of this column.

On the subject of copulation, two famous individuals ASHTON KUTCHER and RIHANNA are rumoured to have exchanged reproductive fluids. This mutual protein exchange will have likely been to the benefit of both parties, and frankly, this columnist doesn't understand the fuss.

Lastly, verbose alpha EMINEM was seen shooting wildly into the trees behind his house when he believed he saw this columnist shedding his outer layer of skin. During a brief moment when my camouflage wasn't working, the celebrity caught a glimpse of me and was inconsolable as I offered him part of a semi-digested cat as a gesture of goodwill. This columnist may need to lay low for a while.

Monday, 24 March 2014

Fool Me Once

The former president of the United States, Mr George W. Bush, once said a very profound thing. He said "Fool me once, shame on you, fool me ... you can't get fooled again!" That's the advice I try to remember whenever I get mercilessly fooled.

This week, in an attempt to find inner peace, I've been trying to help others. In Tibet, the world's most spiritually content country, when they want something they tend to give something away. A policy which lead to them being annexed by China. But in the interests of being open minded, I've been trying to help others before helping myself.

The first good turn I did was work in a shop in exchange for enlightenment (through currency). Somehow, I still didn't feel that dizzy feeling one gets from helping others, especially after unclogging Monster Munch from the customer toilets 3 times a day. I decided that my helpful nature should be concentrated on more personal deeds instead.

I answered an advert in my local paper which read "HELP WANTED ASAP". I didn't even read the rest of the ad, someone needs my needs my help and they need it right now! Luckily they included a postal address for application, so I ran to the person's house and started banging on the door. No answer. Perhaps I was already too late?

A man who gets fooled more often than me
Taking matters into my own hands, I kicked down the door and ran through the hallway screaming "I'm gonna get you!" in an attempt to keep them calm. I heard a scream and a commotion upstairs. Sounded like someone was in trouble.

Running upstairs, panting and breathing heavily due to the physical exertion, I rounded the corner and found the occupant of the house. She was in the bedroom, wrapped in a towel, and was pawing at her house phone in desperation. When she saw me, she closed the bedroom door and leaned against it, preventing my entry. I banged on the door, rasping and wheezing, and tried pushing against it with my whole weight. It wouldn't budge. Then I realised that she was on the phone to the police.

"No police!" I managed to exclaim through exhausted breaths, trying to let her know that I was here to help. The police would surely help, but why would this poor lady want to wait for the fuzz when I'm already here?

With urgency, I kicked down the bedroom door as I had done the front door, entering the room in a shower of splinters. This only made the already stressed woman even more hysterical. I approached her to ask what was wrong, but she began screaming and clawing at me, while yelling for help at the top of her lungs. Well that's what I'm here for, silly!

I had to try and calm her down. Her manicured fingernails dug deep into my left cheek, and would certainly leave a mark. To try and quell the rising tensions, I grabbed her hands and, using the emergency twine I keep in my pocket for special occasions, tied her hands behind her back. But the screaming wouldn't stop. In fact, this seemed to elicit more screaming no matter how many times I said "Shhh, don't struggle".

In the end I had to gag her to try and stop the noise. Her throat was getting sore and she wouldn't be able to tell me how I could help if she strained her vocal chords. Eventually, the screaming died down. Now in as calm a state as a naked, hogtied woman can be, I instructed her that I would remove the gag if she promised to stop screaming.

It was at this point that a stinging sensation shot all the way up my spine. My muscles spasmed involuntarily, and I collapsed on the floor. I found out that I had been tasered by some less than helpful cops, who were responding to a house invasion call and must have got the wrong address. As much as I'd love to continue this story, my legal counsel asks me not to disclose any more until the trial is over. I'll keep you all posted on that front, but until then, remember never to help anyone, no matter how much they want it.

Friday, 21 March 2014

Competition Time

Muppets For Justice is a free enterprise which provides endless entertainment to the masses at no cost.  How do we manage to keep the wolf from the door without a pay wall or advertisements?  Well, mainly because I perform sexual favours down at my local ISP's offices.  However, all is about to change, and my palms finally have the chance to recover. Muppets For Justice is proud to announce a new corporate sponsor!

As a thank you for being such loyal masochists-I mean readers, you have the chance to win a voucher for spectacles, or some other shit.  I received an email from a company called Firmoo, who were eager to make business dealings with me:

Are you searching for sponsors ? Do you wanna encourage the interaction with your followers on your social networks ?, an online optical store, would like to sponsor you a giveaway on any of your social sites like blog, YouTube, Instagram or Pinterest. You can host a contest for us particularly or you can just put the prizes we offer in the contest you are running.

If you are interested in this offer, you can start to create the contest post right away after get this email. How to proceed this can be found below:

About the prizes:
Vouchers valued at $150 in total. You have to draw 5 persons to win the voucher. Each of them are able to get a $30 voucher. Shipping is excluded. The vouchers are toward the purchases of glasses from this page .
About the rules:
Share this contest on Facebook/Twitter.
You can set the other tasks you like.

About the period:
It is suggested to last 7 days, but you can extend it a bit longer if you like.

Finally, it is an international giveaway, but please put this link in your post where you can find all the counties we deliver our products to.

Please don’t hesitate to contact me back if you have any questions.
We are looking forward to your response.

Naturally, I'd give anything to sell this Blog down the river, so I leaped at the opportunity:

Dear Mr Firmoo,

I was delighted to hear about your eyeglass vouchers.  I run an eye-piece fansite called Muppets For Justice, so I imagine my readers would be thrilled to recieve awesome vouchers for optical accessories.

I would love to hold a competition and give my loyal enthusiasts the chance to run their peepers over your range of glasses, but I have a few questions first.

1)  Do your glasses work in the UK?

2)  Do I need any artistic ability in order to draw the winners?  I did take an evening class on life drawings, but got expelled for painting in the nude.

3)  Do the vouchers cover anything other than spectacles?  Some of my elite readers won't go for a vanilla pair of glasses.  They are usually to be seen sporting monocles, bejewelled binoculars, or sometimes they just strap prisms to their faces.

Thank you in advance and I look forward to telling my readers about this exciting opportunity.


A perfectly reasonable set of questions, I'm sure you'll agree.  The next day I received the following response from, who I assume to be Mr Firmoo's daughter.  Miss Tina Firmoo:


Thank you so much for your email and glad to learn that you are interested in working with us.
We do have lots of regular customers from UK. You can choose the 5 winners by random.
The $30 can apply to the frame, 1.50 single lenses. The upgrade lenses will be charged for an extra fee. Shipping is excluded.
Please email me the link to the giveaway once it is up. Any other questions, feel free to contact me.



Any other questions?  That's just bait for idiots like me.  I wasn't sure what kind of contest to run, so I decided to ask Miss Tina Firmoo for some advice:

Dear Tina Firmoo,

Thank you very much for replying to my questions.  I've spoken to a couple of my regular readers and they appear rather stoked about this contest.  They can't wait to get their hands on those delicious vouchers.

However, I'm still not sure what kind of contest I'm going to run on my Blog.  I have a few notions that I'm mulling over, and since you seem to be a competition expert, I would very much appreciate your input.  Please let me know what you think of my ideas:

A) Entrants must express their love of contact lenses through the medium of interpretive dance.  They will send in videos of themselves performing the dance, and we will judge who conveys their excitement most effectively.  Bonus points if you can get a dog to dance.

B) Erotic fanfiction involving characters with visual impairments.  Entrants must choose two fictional characters with glasses and express their lust in graphic detail, pausing only to push their glasses further up the bridge of their nose.

C) A "Who Can Look At The Sun Longest Through A Telescope" competition.  Video evidence must be provided.

What do you think?


Tina Firmoo replies:

We usually do not set any rules for reader to enter the giveaway we sponsor. However, if it is the way you interact with your fans. I think it is Ok. 


So if I usually molest my fans, you'd think that was okay too?  Giving me free reign over a project like this is just asking for disaster:

Dear Tina Firmoo,

Okay, it's fantastic to know that you trust my judgement unequivocally.  It has given me the confidence to make a decision on this matter.

That is why I have launched a "How would you woo Tina Firmoo?" competition.  Entrants must provide a 5000 word essay on what they would like to do with you on a date.  I've already asked some of my readers and, being the lonely eye-glass enthusiasts that they are, they are rather exicted to date a woman outside of a Steampunk rally. One guy chap said he'd like to take you ice fishing.  Another
said he would take you to the cinema to see Terminator 2, provided you wore a clockwork outfit, 200 belts that don't give any support, and occasionally emitted scalding steam from your ears.  I said I'd see what I could do.
Do you have preferred type of date?  The winner would be the person who describes a scenario close to your ideal date. 


And then, for some strange reason, the replies dried up. My guess is that she took one look at the creepy weirdo portfolio that is my fanbase and chickened out.  Yet again I have been thwarted by my legions of ugly readers.  I hope you folks are happy with yourselves!

Monday, 17 March 2014

What Is Sleep?

Birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it.  They all live in a homeless man’s beard.  Another trait they also share is the fact they occasionally go to sleep.

But what is sleep? The Oxford English Dictionary defines sleep as “The act of lying horizontally while tripping balls without narcotics”.  This act involves losing consciousness for prolonged periods of times, then waking up with no recollection of the previous few hours. This is rather reminiscent of the effects of alcohol.  However, most people experience this prone state of helplessness at least once per day, with or without an intact liquor cabinet.

So the real, more pertinent question is “why do we sleep?”  Frankly, you’re an idiot for not asking that in the first place.

Given our expanding calorie intakes, surely we don’t sleep in order to recharge or store energy.  We shovel enough into our gaping maws to ensure that we have an excess of reserves to burn off, especially with our increasingly sedentary lifestyles.  When your work involves ensuring that the office paperclips are categorised by colour and size, you’re not really burning off all that extra energy.  In a hunter gatherer society, you can forgive a little tiredness if your average day involves slaying a furry elephant and avoiding rampant ebola.  But in the era of mobility scooters, this is unforgivable.

We cannot attribute sleep to seasonal change either.  Since we can build central heating systems within the Arctic Circle, we keep ourselves warm enough and well fed enough to survive even the harshest winter.  Our ancestors may have needed to hibernate, but not us.  Even as recent as a few decades ago, our grandparents used to hoard food supplies, bracken and twine, then settle down in their nest boxes to sleep the winter away.  The added benefit of this was that we didn’t have to buy them Christmas presents.

So why on Earth do our bodies go into standby for seven hours a day?  That’s time I could be spending catching up on Game Of Thrones, or staring idly at my Smartphone waiting for a retweet.  The only benefit I can see to getting a healthy night’s sleep is to have some cool dreams.

Dreams come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Big, small, dry and wet, it seems that our brains make us tired in order to enter the dream state.  Leading psychologists believe that dreams are an instrumental part of our cognitive development, and that dreams allow us to make sense of the things we’ve learned throughout the day.  Dreams help us piece together the disparate pieces of information we receive and put them into a cohesive order.  That’s why I had a dream where I was a dragon.

In fact, I do have a recurring dream where I am driving a bus.  People I know such as friends and family keep getting on the bus and asking me to take them places.  As I drive around I get more and more confused by the different destinations that I start swerving around, knocking over street signs like a muddled version of Grand Theft Auto, until I eventually just crash the bus into a wall.

If dreams actually mean anything, then why are their messages so vague?  If there is something to be learned from our subconscious and our brains were so desperate to tell us something, why doesn’t the thought just pop into your head in plain English while you’re still awake?  Dreams are often forgotten shortly after waking, so it doesn’t seem like the most efficient message delivery system.  It’s like trying to tell someone their house is on fire by throwing the message through the blaze in the form of a paper airplane.  Why not phone them?

The worst, most unpleasant sensations in life come from that place between being sleep and awake.  Do you ever have that moment where, just as you’re about to drift off into a lovely slumberous snooze, you suddenly feel like you’re falling?  I sleep on my front, so when I try and move my arms to steady myself and my arms don’t move, it feels especially jarring. Perhaps its nature’s way of putting us down a peg or two for evolving higher brain functions.

So it seems that sleep is important but we don’t fully know why.  We should just accept that sleep is subject to a higher power beyond our understanding.  That way, we cannot possibly be held accountable if we sleep in.  Missing work completely due to sleeping all day is either an act of human nature, or an act of God.  How can you possibly fire me for this?!  You’ll be hearing from my union!

Friday, 14 March 2014

Gideon's Guide To Social Networking

Hello twats!

It is I, George Osborne. Some of you might know me as "Gideon", while others in the North may know me as "Oi Twat", as I found out while visiting a steel mill in Sheffield. An aide reliably informed me that "twat" means "gentleman of reputable nature", so I've made it my word of the week. Rest assured, myself and the rest of the cabinet are a bunch of massive twats. And twattettes. We mustn't forget about Theresa May.

Regardless, I've had my good chums over at GCHQ take over a few Internet blogs to spread the good word about the coalition government. That's why I have borrowed ##THE MUPPETS OF JUSTICE##  today, and will be giving it back shortly after some minor improvements. I really think this place could use a dash of blue and a logo that resembles a blind kid's rendition of a tree.

More importantly, however, is what your government can do for you. Did you know that you can earn money by supporting the Conservatives via social media sites? That right. Myself, Dave and Boris are all willing to give up to £50 for every like we get on Facebook. This is because we made a bet with the Liberal Democrats over who was most popular. If the Lib Dems win, they get to keep their precious NHS.  A fool's errand!

We are also encouraging our Twitter followers to retweet us into oblivion. Do you remember Dave's latest completely intentional Barack Obama joke?

"I've been speaking to @BarackObama about the situation in Ukraine. We are united in condemnation of Russia's actions."

Or how about the wonderful times we've shared online together, such as this:

Oh how we laughed, although I didn't fully understand it.

Of course, we are aware that some people find politicians on Facebook and Twitter as repugnant as the gigantic queen slug that shat out us Bullingdon boys, where we germinated in our mucus membranes until we resembled humanoid lifeforms.However, we are willing to pay cold hard cash for popularity. Just like in real life, we will throw money at people until they like us.

Don't think of this as a waste of taxpayer's money. The money for my followers actually comes from my father's account in the Cayman Islands. See, I'm just like you in that way; willing to throw my undeserved pool of wealth into a popularity venture, just as any old Tom, Dick and Harry off the street would do.

By liking us, over time you may actually learn to love us, like victims of abuse. We will keep you updated on how shit Europe is, all of Boris's private shareholder meetings, and how many GQ awards I've won for being the world's best politician.  We promise not to mention The Big Society again since we're killing it quietly, so there's no need to worry about that.  If we can at least stop people from retweeting Ed Balls for a few days, that would be a massive victory for our term in government.

Tally bye you lovely twats, and I look forward to seeing you on the social media site of your choice.

Monday, 10 March 2014

How To Insult People Effectively

There are moments that occur in our lives that are sent to test us. These events prod and goad us for a negative response, to bring out our darkest emotions and find weak points in our resolve. This is why fate keeps finding outlets to show Piers Morgan on our TV screens.

However, there are moments when your stoic good nature has to be cast aside. That, ladies and gentlemen, is when your integrity is on the line and you have to resort to insults. I've thought long and hard about old conflicts, and wished I could have thought of something cool, witty, and downright insultive to say at the time. Should that need ever rise again, I now have a wide repository of amazing put downs at my disposal. Allow me to list a few of these below.

A few months back, a neighbour of mine found out that I'd been opening his mail for years (mainly because our names both start with "Mr"). He came to my house and called me a despicable human, said I was worthless, and called my recent attempt to sleep with his wife a "pathetic cry for love in a world which has turned its back on you". Well, I wasn't going to stand for that. I looked him straight in the eye and came up with the most ferocious insult he'd ever heard:


Insult Effectiveness: 7/10

The insult not only calls his dental hygiene into question, but also suggests that he devours faecal matter on a regular basis. Ice burn!

This is your breath on poo

Which reminds me of another time when my best friend caught me trying to hide the evidence after running over his dog. I was merely trying to stuff it into his wheelie bin to stop him getting mad, to which he got all tearful and said I was the worst friend ever. He said I was deplorable and that our friendship was over. Weak! I come up with better insults before breakfast. I leaned for extra effect, and then dropped a bombshell on his ass:


Insult Effectiveness: 8/10

Being a willyhead is bad enough; because you'd have to wear pants on your head otherwise you'd get done for indecent exposure. But to be a stinky willyhead is quite simply the worst. Advantage Addman.

Then one time I was on the corner wearing my leather. This dude comes up and he's like "hey punk", and I'm like:


Insult Effectiveness: 9/10

Can you imagine having wee for eyes? Everything would look slightly yellow. It'd be awful.

Lastly, once I was called in to the police station to answer where I was on Friday 14th after a string of jewellery store thefts. One cop said "we can do this the easy way or the hard way". I weighed up my options for a moment, and figured out a brilliant comeback:


Insult Effectiveness: 10/10

Ultimate put down! Back in the day, none of my male friends liked being called a girl face, back when we were 6, so I see no reason why this insult wouldn't work today. Despite the cop being female, I'm sure she was devastated by this riposte, and that's probably why I only served a 3 year sentence.

Feel free to use my insults in your daily lives. I guarantee that your lives will be immeasurably improved. Your colleagues and co-workers will shudder in fear when you walk by, and you will never be messed with again. Mark my words.

Friday, 7 March 2014

The Waste

Television goes through fads and phases all the time.  Only a few years ago we were all watching Big Brother and a whole swathe of other reality shows.  Before that, we were in thrall to the detective dramas of the day. Nowadays, if someone isn’t sobbing their heart out in front of celebrity judges on a talent show, it ain’t worth watching.  However, there has been one constant of TV schedules for as long as I can remember, and that is cooking shows.

So, taking the talent show format and artificially inseminating it with a cooking show, we have been given The Taste.  It’s a bit like The Voice, only with less warbling and more spoons.  The whole premise is that the budding chefs have to create one spoonful of food for the judges.  The judges in question consist of the world’s sexiest crack fiend, Nigella Lawson, an unknown Anthony Bourdain, and a man who is so stereotypically French that he’s almost racist towards himself, Ludo Lefebvre.  Together, they taste the spoons without knowing which chefs are responsible for their creation.  This is supposedly an effort to evoke impartiality in the same manner as The Voice does, only without the need for swivel chairs and a terminal dose of Will.I.Am.

The main problem with the show is quite simply the amount of food that gets wasted.  In order to create these tiny spoonfuls, the chefs are given vast array different foodstuffs, much of which isn’t used.  In order to create a tiny cube of smoked salmon for their spoon, one contestant butchered a whole salmon to get the miniscule blob they required.  A fish had to die for the privilege of getting a sliver of its flesh onto that spoon.  But the wastage didn’t stop there.  Oysters were mercilessly crushed for minute amounts of sauce.  Chickens were debreasted and cut into lego-sized mouthfuls. Even the vegetables didn’t get off lightly as they were sliced into fine pieces for The Taste’s leaking, gastronomic machine.  When a chef was evicted from the show, they had to walk past a gauntlet of freshly stacked fruit in order to reach the exit.

Fuck your pretentious seabass, give me a kebab!

Of course, this problem isn’t just limited to The Taste.  In fact, The Taste probably wastes less than other cookery shows due to Nigella’s raging case of the munchies.  But this leftover problem is endemic to the genre.  Take the Iron Chef, an American show that makes The Taste look quaint in terms of extreme excess.  The competing chefs are given a culinary playground as they are presented with a stack of ingredients that could feed a starving African family for 10 years, or John Goodman for 2 weeks. When you can measure your expendable harvest in galleons, you know you’ve taken things a tad too far.  And that’s before the special ingredient is wheeled out, where a table big enough for The Hairy Bikers to have sex on is piled high with a chosen ingredient, such as an orchard’s worth of apples.

So what can we do our about our decadent Western cookery shows?  We should expect our TV chefs to be a bit more economical.  Perhaps we could force them to cook using leftover ingredients.  Frankly, I like to see Jamie Oliver try and create a healthy, wholesome, 30 minute meal with some of last night’s leftover pizza, an egg that is past it’s sell by date, and a packet of instant noodles.  Either that, or they could just send the leftovers to my house and I’ll make sure they are disposed of correctly.

Monday, 3 March 2014

Flik And Princess Atta Are In Peril

My friends, I'm not quite sure how to break this to you, but some terrible, underhand politics are afoot within the Disney corporation.

I recieved an email out of the blue from Tracy Robben. For those who don't know, Tracy is a freedom fighter who is battling the tyranny of Walt's minions.  She's on the front line everyday, fighting their oppresive regime, as the email below clearly demonstrates:

Hello. My name is Tracy.

I'm emailing you today because I want to share a petition that I've created with you.
This petition is for saving Flik and Princess as permanent characters at Walt Disney World. Flik recently retired from meet-&-greets by "It's Tough to Be a Bug!" at Animal Kingdom back in March 2012, and Dug and Russell replaced him. And Flik and Princess Atta could only be seen in the Pixar Pals' Countdown to Fun parade at Hollywood Studios, which ended on April 6th. Now Flik is not appearing in Walt Disney World anywhere! And I want to see him again.

Here's the petition: It would be great if you could sign it and send it to your friends and family who would be willing to help. And don't worry about the donation thing after signing it. Just ignore it.

Thank you for your support! I really appreciate it.

Tracy Robben

I was sickened to my core by this news.  Although I had to Google Flik and Princess Atta, I was still outraged.  It turns out that they were the main charcters from Pixar's often overlooked 1998 classic, A Bug's Life.  How dare Disney try to remove unpopular characters from a sixteen year old film which was (and let's be fair here) a bit shit?  Thank God Flik and Atta have a paragon of virtue in the form of Tracy Robben, who loves them to the point of fetishisation.  I decided that I must also join this rebel faction and stand up for these characters.

Dear Tracy,

I was saddened to see that Flik and Princess Otto are being persecuted for being tiny insects.  We all know that Walt Disney was a tyrant who hated the Jews, so it's not a logical disconnect to call him a Nazi sympathiser.  This facist extremism is exactly the kind of behaviour that the Disney corporation is employing with their handling of Flik and the gang.

I will not stand for this.  In the past I've sat back and let far too many Disney characters fall by the wayside.  Remember Oswald?  Despite being a bag of crap, the Disney corporation should have stuck by their creation rather than going with Mickey Mouse and transforming themselves into a world-leading media corporation in the process.  I will stand up for the lesser characters in the Disney stable and fight for their rights!

Anyway, I am prepared to sign your petition and attend any protests that you may wish to organise.  I will attend the protest with placards saying "Down With Nazis" and "Up With The Ant Princess".  If you would like me to make a sign for you then just let me know.  I also know the name of a good rotten fruit seller, should you require some for the demonstration.


P.S. How do I sign the petition?  I tried to write my signature on the screen, but I think I may have ruined my monitor.

I waited patiently for a response.  I had to wait an entire 30 minutes before I recieved this robust reply:

Just click on the link and it will take you to the petition. Then all you do is sign your name and leave an optional comment.

Wow, thanks Tracy.  You comprehensively answered every subtle nuance of my email, and now I feel satisfied.  To be fair to Tracy, she's probably far too busy drawing Disney characters in sexual embraces to answer my trivial questions.  This Goofy on Pluto fanfiction ain't gonna write itself!  Regardless, I replied:

Hi Tracy,

Thank you for your prompt reply. It is asking me to leave a donation but I don't know what to do or how much to give. I'm not very good with these things. One time I gave my bank details to a Kenyan princess via email. She said she needed to store her father's gold deposits in my account, but somehow funds were taken from my account instead. Alas, this is the story of my life in this cyber world.

I also have another concern. Would the reintroduction of Frik and Princess Attack somehow cause harm to their replacements, Dug and Russell? I'm rather partial to Dug and Russell. I wouldn't wish them any ill will and I am against segregation of any kind, especially between Pixar characters. I'm so against segregation that I cried for six weeks when they removed my parasitic twin brother. Why can't we all just get along?

Eagerly awaiting your

I waited an eternity for said response.  37 minutes precisely.  It's almost as if she's in the same time zone as me...

You don't have to worry about that donation thing. And this is not a bad idea at all. Many people think it's a good idea.

So we're agreed, getting along with your fellow man is a good idea.  I doubt our mutual enemy will agree.

Hi Tracy,

I'm glad that you agree that we should all get along.  The world should deconstruct it's social barriers and learn to love other in one big, hot, sweaty mess.  Don't you agree?

With that in mind, I wouldn't be surprised if Walt "Apartheid" Disney wouldn't let Russell and Dug and Flikr and Princess Amidala all stand together and give autographs.  He'd probably make them brawl to the death in some kind of arena setting, with the winner being allowed to sign autographs on this particular turf.

By the way, I'm getting started on the signs for the protest.  What colour would you like?  I've Gold or Brown.  Let me know if you have any ideas for slogans.  I'm going with "Let's Unfreeze Walt's Head And Kick It Around The Carpark".


Less than five minutes later, I recieved this:

Sure. And you know, someday whenever you visit Disney World. You should stop at Guest Relations in Animal Kingdom and explain how you feel about these characters not appearing in the park anymore.

Two points: 

1)  I'm sure customer relations have better things to deal with than adults who are angry over niche Disney characters.
2) What colour signs does she want?  She failed to even acknowledge this part of my email.

Hi Tracey,

Someday?  You're assuming that I don't visit Dinsey World on a regular basis.  I'm there nearly everyday, on the front lines, protesting against this cartoon factory of hate and prejudice.  Last week I nailed Simba right between the eyes with a maggot-laden tomato.  I now have to pay some medical bills for the guy in the suit, but at least I proved a point.

Also, you didn't answer my question about the sign I'm making for you.  I just found a piece of green card under my sofa, so you can have a sign that's half green and half gold if you'd prefer.


I think that's reasonable question.  I expect an answer.

You don't have to make a payment or a donation.

Hmm, it would appear that Tracy is starting to lose faith in her own campaign.  Why does this always happen to me?  At this point, the conversation fizzled out and I never got to meet Tracey and join her unique band of merry Bugs Life enthusiasts.  It would seem that Walt has won this round, but wait until the death squads come knocking for Woody or Stitch!  We must act now to prevent this genocide from coming to fruition.  Please sign my petition by leaving a comment of support in the box below.  Thanks.