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T. Herman Zweibel's Journal

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Saturday, December 9th, 2006
12:03 am - Blasted Standish
So I catch my useless man-servant wasting his time on some website known as Recognize Design.

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Saturday, October 21st, 2006
12:44 am - Radio Transmission
Back when I invented a Radio-Wave Transmitting device that could fit into a single room, our only reason for doing so was to communicate with our colony-builders in the polynesian region. At that time, I set up Trans-Pacific Radio, which appears to still be in operation, though they have moved to one of the Inter-net channels. I wonder if they still have McEchern, that useless beast of a man-servant who once ate my suspenders during a scurvy-induced fit of dementia...

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Tuesday, October 4th, 2005
3:39 am - My Enemies
It is time to publish the quadrennial list of my enemies. Watch out, scoundrels, for I have my Swiss Guard posed to get Wellington on your rear ends!

1. 'Shoe-less' Joe Jackson - Mr. Jackson shirked me on a bet in 1917 and still owes the Zweibel estate to the tune of 8 bits and a half-penny. I'll be collecting that in Morgan Dollars as you perpetuate your marketable image of poverty, 'Shoe-less' Joe.

2. Cornish Wallonia - Perpetual enemies. Shall be crushed by my Swiss Guard, once they find the temerity and/or budget to raise a standing calvary!

3. Kanye West - Jesus walks with me, bitch.

4. Kenzaburo Oe - I secured this man the Nobel Prize in Something-or-Other in exchange for his post-seppuku guts. He failed to live up to his end of the bargain, becoming a hikikomori and dropping out of my sight. I shall find him yet, though he is rumored to be hiding in the the island fortress on Ishigaki.

5. Deigo Garcia - Another 'gentleman' who fled my wrath, found his way past the East Indies and named an island after himself. I shall have revenge, sweet, drooling revenge!

6. Zechariah Tobit - Inventer of the double-chambered pipe, which caused me twice the cancer.

7. Samuel Clemens - A scoundrel of the first rate, a Californian before such a hellhole existed. Great-grandfather of besmirched Roger Clemens, enemy to all Philadelphia Athletics fans.

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Thursday, September 15th, 2005
3:20 am - A nap for the ages
Whenst I last found myself awake, perhaps in the middle of the Coolidge administration, I seem to recall requesting that my use-less man-servant Standish attend to the incessant knocking at my front door. Nonetheless, I fell into a great and peace-ful sleep, of which I am not happy to be awakened from. Yet, I recognize that the universe dearly needs my services at this moment. It seems that the current head of our Executive branch has requested that I join his supreme-court as an Associate Justice.

Ha! Says I. For T. Herman Zweibel serves as associate to no man. Let this be a lesson to you, President Harding! Do not awaken me unless you have a real offer to bring to my table. I am cantakerous and sore and unwilling to listen to your petty beg for help.

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Friday, February 14th, 2003
6:55 pm - Blast these frayed nerves!
My nerves, I fear, are giving out. My hands shake relentlessly; I find it difficult even to hold these throwing-knives as I pitch them at my foolish, squealing man-servants from the comfort of my bullet-proof wheelchair.

Wait! You ask. Why would T. Herman Zweibel, a man in possession of an elite Swiss Guard, need a bullet-proof wheelchair?

The answer is simple: there is a mole in my circle. A mole who is bent on assassinating me through tainted foodstuffs. I have thus taken all measures to protect myself, including having the erstwhile Standish sample each of my meals. If he lives, I shall consider eating the noisome porridge that my use-less kitchen staff brews thrice daily. Standish, however, seems to have fallen into a rather deep sleep in the area immediately in front of my feet; he responds not to the prickly thrust of my throwing-knives when I launch them into his peasant rump. Thus, I have Rosa rub each morsel of food against the sleeping man's face, and if no visible sores appear within an hour I consider eating it.

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Monday, November 4th, 2002
9:26 pm - Standish, et al.
Fed up with Standish, my use-less man-servant, I have banished the drooling mongoloid to a room in the nether regions of my mansion. It seems that this morning he arrived in my stately chambers with Coltsfoot tea instead of my usual Earl Grey. Despite the fact that I never drink tea (which I view as the tasteless vestige of a bloated aristocracy whose king has no place bleeding taxes from hard-working Americans), Standish's act of defiance has pushed my frayed nerves beyond their breaking point. He shall be walled alive into a small room, which will contain an air chamber and a small slot for the delivery of foodstuffs and an occasional message from myself. Cross me not, future servant-people, or you too will feel similar lashes to your tubercular frames!

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Saturday, August 31st, 2002
7:05 pm - I am not yet dead
Contrary to the beliefs of my servants, I have not yet perished, despite my prolonged nap. T. Herman Zweibel merely needed to re-charge his batteries for the next few decades.

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Monday, February 25th, 2002
1:25 am - Ed.'s note: Mr Zweibel sleeps tonight
Bush to China: "Mr Zhemin, tear down this wall!"

Last week, during his stopover in China to discuss trade realtions and international issues with members of the Chinese government, U.S. President George W. Bush shocked the world by standing on the Great Wall of China and brazenly announcing, "Mr Zhemin, tear down this wall!" Mr Bush continued to exhort his Chinese counterpart by saying, "this last vestige of communism must fall! The peace and democracy-loving peoples of East and West China must be allowed to freely intermingle and share their common dream of freedom and economic prosperity."
When his advisors pointed out that the true purpose of the Great Wall was to repel pillaging hordes of Mongolian terrorists, Mr Bush responded with, "Such selfish, unilateral tactics are no defense for the limiting of the free exchange of ideas."

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Tuesday, February 19th, 2002
7:39 pm - My bowel irregularities have subsided
This afternoon, the erstwhile Standish informed me that my irregular and frequently violent bowel movements have ceased. This is wonderous news, perhaps the result of an ancient Mayan folk dance that my insufferable maid, Rosa, insisted upon performing last evening. She appeared quite drunk, swaying about my grand ball-room in her multicolored foolish garb. I have instructed Standish to purchase a more socially acceptable medicine-person's uniform for Rosa - he is now off to the Hallo-ween costume store on a quest for mono-chromatic native raiment.

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Sunday, February 3rd, 2002
11:38 pm - I have rigged the Olympics
In order to dissuade fair-play and the amusement of the masses, I have decided to use my wide-reaching power and influence to rig the reults of the upcoming Olympic games. There is no need for anyone to watch the events, as I hold in my hand a list of each medal winner. I have instructed Standish to take this list to Las Vegas, where he will be betting my family fortune on the victors-to-be. In a few short weeks' time, I shall be the richest man alive in addition to being the oldest person on the planet.

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Sunday, January 6th, 2002
1:21 am - An end must be put to this evil usurper!
lellybilly must be stopped! She has somehow managed to steal a photo-graph from my family collection, depsite the watchful eye of my Swiss Guard. This photo-graph depicts either myself or my identical twin half-brother, who died at birth. Nonetheless, Standish informs me that this photo-graph is copy-righted by the estate of H. Ulysses Zweibel, of which I am the controlling hier. A team of lawyers shall meet at my estate tomorrow morning in order to draft a plan of legal action.

In the meantime, I must return to this evening's installment of the moving-pictures. Standish tells me that I am watching the 1937 World Series contest.

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Thursday, November 1st, 2001
2:01 am - Preventing The Anthrax
Many Americans are worried about contracting Anthrax, that horrible disease which seems to wipe out post-offices and Senate buildings. Here are my tips for staying clear of Anthrax:

1. Drink plenty of bleach. Three pints a day should kill any and all bacterium in your system.

2. Avoid British beef. It may seem innocent enough, but British beef may be loaded with Cowpox, which turns into Anthrax in the event that you turn into a sheep.

3. When you check your PO Box, be sure to wear a condom. Also, insist that your letter-carrier wears a condom when he has anal sex with you in the back of his jeep.

4. Stick to pop and soft rock; metalheads seem to suffer from "Anthrax" in disproportionate numbers.

5. For the love of God, avoid fourth graders from New Jersey!

6. If you're in a grocery store, be sure to report any suspicious flour spills to the FBI.

7. Anthrax is highly contagious - do not sit on any public toilet seats unless they have been sanitized by thousands of CDC workers in protective suits.

8. If you're not from New York, New Jersey or The District of Columbia and you suspect that you may have anthrax, head to your backyard and dig your grave. The "Stupid Police" will arrive shortly and put you out of your misery.

9. Only worry about anthrax; forget about heart disease, breast cancer and AIDS - they are no longer relevant.

10. Remember: Bioterrorism is a myth created by the media! As long as you remain a good consumer, you will stay alive in America.

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Tuesday, October 23rd, 2001
12:32 am - I will revise the history text-books.
Booooo! It is I, the ghost of Herman Ulysses Zweibel, founder of The Onion, or, as it was originally known, The Mercantile-Onion. Booooo!

Corporate textbook giant McDougal Little, a division of the Houghton Miflin Company, has enlisted me to help revise its next generation of secondary school text-books.

McDougal Little's senior executives have announced that I will serve as chairspirit of the text-book revision committee. Since my untimely death in 1896, I have sat at the left hand of God himself, objectively observing all foolish happenings on Earth.

As a specialist in the affairs of the American Colonies, I will begin by abolishing the term "Civil War" and replacing it with the more appropriate "War of Northern Aggression."

I will also put an end to any speculation surrounding the Kennedy assassination, the 1919 World Series, the fate of D.B. Cooper, the location of James "Jimmy" Hoffa and the origin of the term "O.K."

Former US Senator James McCarthy and former FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover will grace the cover of McDougal Little's newly revamped text-books.

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Wednesday, October 17th, 2001
11:07 pm - Hallo-ween is Bullshit
Each autumn, several slight, foul children descend upon my mansion and demand that I give them sweetmeats out of the goodness of my heart. Garbed in their ridiculous uniforms, these miserable wretches expect a hand-out from my man-servant, Standish.

Parents! Heed my admonitions! Inform your children that Hallo-ween is bullshit! In fact, Hallo-ween ranks as the #1 bullshit holiday on my list of "Top Ten Bullshit Holidays:"

1. Hallo-ween
2. Easter
3. Arbor Day
4. Labour Day
5. UK Bank Holiday (all)
6. Respect for the Aged Day (Japan)
7. New Year's
8. Bloom Day
9. The Feast of St. Agnes
10. All Filthy Pagan Holidays

Children cannot be allowed to freely roam our streets, begging for candy like pathetic whipjacks. A curfew of noon must be strictly enforced for all citizens under the age of 16. Those found unchaperoned on the streets after noon should be given 12 whacks across their bottoms with a chaff of buckwheat.

We must be especially diligent to enforce this maxim on the day of Hallo-ween.

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Monday, October 15th, 2001
4:00 am - I have ingested "crack cocaine"
This smokeable drug is truly a wonder of the post-industrial age! After ingesting the "crack cocaine," I have managed to forget about the annoying habits of my man-servant, Standish. In fact, I have decided that I must obtain mass quantities of this substance for my recreational use.

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Wednesday, October 10th, 2001
2:02 am - I am having visions of the future
In the future, sound-waves will be collected and called "music" by certain factions of angry youth, who will attempt to rebel against their hard-working, communist-hating parents by dancing to this "music."

In the future, the United States of America will overthrow the communist governments of Australia, Westphalia, Monaco, Vermont, Estonia and Biloxi.

In the future, wild animals will be do-mesticated and kept within the confines of domestic building-structures. Eventually, these foul and worthless beasts will be granted rights, including the right to food and shelter.

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Friday, October 5th, 2001
1:07 pm - I have broken another world-record
In addition to being the oldest person alive, I am also the world's longest-running closeted homosexual.

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Wednesday, September 26th, 2001
12:28 pm - I have removed myself from my Livejournal "Friends" list
For a few weeks, I listed myself as my only Livejournal "Friend." Recently, however, I have been upset with my 1924 decision to plant peach rather than lemon trees on the grounds of my estate. Let this be a lesson to myself.

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Saturday, September 22nd, 2001
12:43 pm - I am an Evil Sorcerer
This morning I have discovered a new talent that has remained hidden for the past 132 years - I am an Evil Sorcerer! My wet-nurse brought a catheter to my bedside and when I wished death upon her she burst into a ball of raging flame.

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Monday, September 3rd, 2001
10:54 pm - Marie-Jean-Antoine-Nicolas de Condorcet must be stopped!
In my 114 years as a news-paper man, I have encountered hordes of dung-heaped worthless cerebrations, but none rank higher than the sputtering, mumbling foolishness of French economist Marie-Jean-Antoine-Nicolas de Condorcet.

First: Examine the risible name that this man bears. He obviously came about as a result of an accidental noctural-discharge that somehow found its way into a maid-servant.

Second: M. Condorcet voted for the conviction of Louis XVI and championed the concept of proportional representation in goverment. Both acts smack of treason: the first by turning against the skillful rule of the ancien regieme, the second by asserting that all French citizens could equally discern the subtle nuances of taste amongst the finest camemberts.

Librarians, I plead with you: burn this man's books! He must be stopped before wine is put into card-board boxes, cheese is sold in aerosol cans and a Disneyland appears in Paris! M. Condorcet is the death of culture itself!

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