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Dwayne is the most fucking awesome dude in the world.   No – he really really is.   I take back everything I said or implied about him recently: he’s so smart and handsome, and isn’t eternally stuck in the 80s at all…


[Jonathon: C’mon, man – just fucking do it.   What’s one bloody half-hour interview when you live for ever anyway?   I hand-delivered fucking bedsocks to you, for shit’s sake…

Dwayne: No.

Jonathon: Look – it’s the easiest solution.   Otherwise they’ll start investigating, and turn up all kinds of shit that is bad news for all of us, man.   Or else I’ll have to kill a fucking lot of people, and that’s going to be messy and likely to result in the same shit anyway.   Or I’ll have to leave.   And dude? – Daisy won’t be happy…

Dwayne: You’re a fracking loser.   Good riddance.   What the hell do I care?]


Did I mention ‘fracking’ is without doubt the most sensational fucking swear word in the existence of the English language?   Only people who are really cool and savvy appreciate this though.   Dwayne is one of these people…


[Jonathon: Hey.   I’ll owe you, right?   Share of the next kill?   Buy you a fucking wall of Ipads or something?   I’ll even stop hanging shit on World of Warcraft – how’s that?]


World of Warcraft, by the way – apex of gaming technology and timeless MMORPG masterpiece.   Only the most daring and devout still play it, and Dwayne is the WoW king…


[Dwayne: No.

Jonathon: Fine.   Fine.   Do it – or I’ll fucking tear you into organic confetti and sprinkle your remains over a Star Trek convention so the geeks may continue to grow and prosper…

Dwayne: Yeah, right.   And then who will you get to come to your school and pretend to be this legal guardian of yours?   What kind of a frigging name is “Eddie” anyway?]


Speaking of names: say the word.   Say the name.   “Dwayne”.   Let the syllables roll over your tongue, elongate the vowel sound with joy, twang that dipthong.   It is a name to inspire fear, and respect, and humble admiration…


[Jonathon: It was a joke.   Come on, man.   It’s an easy gig.   Wear something slightly grown-up, comb your fucking hair and slap on some sunscreen, smile and nod at Mrs Keech for about twenty minutes and say nice things about your ‘nephew’, and I’ll do you a favor next time.   I’ll make Daisy knit you an entire fucking designer fashion line, and have Kim Kardashian deliver it personally…

Dwayne: No.

Jonathon: I’ll get you a cameo on Battlestar Galactica: that new Caprica thing.   Immortalized on BSG, man – and immortal so you can fucking rewatch yourself forever…

Dwayne: No.

Jonathon: What the fuck do you want, dude?   Seriously?   What?   I know you read my blog, and hit the forums about it; I know you’re fucking jealous of the shit I say out there.   So what?   What?    I’ll even write a fucking panegyric to your geekdom: how’s that?   Or – do I mean a eulogy?   Whatever…   Online fame, man.   Thousands of readers.   Instant Dwayne fan club.   Poster guy for the culture of cool, man.   Come on.   What do you say…?]



Dead man walking, g33k extraorinaire, and god among vampires.  

And my fictional uncle for the school interview on Thursday.  

Now that’s some fracked-up shit…





  1. Frack, I love you!

    The word ‘dipthong’ should appear in literature more often.

  2. How humiliating for you, Jonathon. Heh. Dwayne, I’m impressed by your crafty, g33k tactics…Kudos.

  3. Nice! it’s funny actually not humiliating. all in good humor.

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