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Maybe it's the something young inside us all that embraces the ever-enticing brew of hops and fellowship, a nation of glorious crackpots with their booze-fueled dreams
-- El Destino

Jerk City's Slow Descent to Madness

by Dkr. Armand Geddyn

2002-01-11 22:32:34

Lately, it seems that Jerk City has taken on a darker aspect. Oh, there's still plenty of boners, pricks, dongs, and dicks, but more often, there seems to be a decidedly homicidal undercurrent swelling in the daily Net comic.

Deuce confesses to a random kidnapping. Deuce fantasizes about raping Pants's abandoned corpse. Pants agonizes over his limited cadaver-storage capacity. These are but three examples of this trend, bizarre even by the standards of these self-described total losers Jesus.

Why the sudden bout of necrophilia for our otherwise puerile, and occasionally geeky, band of ayleens / beatniks / Tiki dolls / jellyfish-things? Possibly the site redesign, complete with a search function and handy indexes by date and title, has driven the authors to dark musings of murder most foul.

Or, perhaps, in these troubled times of international terror, the endless torrent of cock-sucking jokes seems somehow irrelevant. Older Jerk City postings harken back to a more carefree time in America -- a time of security, of family and faith, and of gallons upon spurting gallons of HGRURGHHUUGRG+++

Over.  End of Story.  Go home now.

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