Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Dispatches from a Volcano

From Jesus Miguel Hernandez

Each year, on the seventh of December, we illustrious members of the Special Needs Group open the heavy mahogany doors of our grand interstate headquarters to the general public in a grand celebration we have taken to calling The Special Needs Open House. As the exact location of our headquarters is a closely guarded secret, the event is often very low-key. This year was no exception. Since our open house has had relatively little interest from the general community over the years, let me give you a little insight into the inner workings of our beloved Special Needs Group and Auto Club.

The group’s headquarters itself was constructed by indentured laborers in 1945 in the magma chamber of an extinct volcano. The laborers, who entered into indenture in the hopes of escaping various legal troubles in their homeland, imposed their own Germanic sensibilities onto the construction process, helping to give the Special Needs Group Interstate Headquarters the dramatic Gothic look for which it is famous today.

The laborers proved incredibly organized and industrious. With their almost faultless military precision, they were able to complete the gargantuan project by late spring of 1946. Given new identities, the workers were relocated by the Special Needs Group to Central America. Many of the former laborers have remained in relative seclusion ever since, but others have remained in contact with their former employers. With knack for discretion and impeccable record keeping has allowed for many lucrative business ventures between the expatriated former laborers and The Special Needs Group over the years.

The underground fortress has been home to The Special Needs Group ever since—with the brief exception of 1977, when it enjoyed fleeting notoriety as the interim headquarters to the Legion of Doom. Today, the headquarters boasts a state-of-the-art communications center, radiation resistant living quarters for the associates and employees of The Special Needs Group (for profit earners only), several decades of freeze-dried rations, clean water, and insufficient plumbing. The Legion of Doom very generously supplied our headquarters with a complex “defensive” weapons grid, complete with machine gun nests, and medium-range intercontinental ballistic “fireworks” emplacements.

The headquarters supplies our honorable associates with a place to meet and compose new blog posts in quiet, blast resistant, solitude. This is how we keep bring you fresh helpings of your favorite blog on a regular basis.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Jackalope Watch!

by Woody "Cricketfucker" Flavour

Editors Note: As always, Mr. Flavour’s opinions do not reflect the views or opinions of The Special Needs Group, its affiliates, lackeys, sponsors, footmen, cronies, operatives, third world militias, or parent company: Hernandez Veterinary Pharmaceuticals. Hernandez Veterinarty Parmaceuticals, "Drugs you need, for the rodents you love."

As most of you are aware by now, we are knee deep in what has come to be known "Jackalope-gate." A little back story, way back in what we now call "the late 90's" a game came to fruition known as Bunny Baseball. This is basically played by catching several rabbits and then using them as baseballs. This generally ends with several dead rabbit bodies strewn around the infield.

Quite recently an offshoot game very similar in context to bunny baseball appeared. The main difference being that the bunnies are substituted for jackalopes. Now the Liberal-Left Wing-Jew run media are trying to stop these games from taking place, claiming that "playing a game that amounts to no more than the killing several of an endangered species with fungo bats" is illegal and inhumane.

I just think that these dicks need to stay out of my fucking business. What I do on my property is my own business and not that of PETA and their band of gay and lesbian hybrid driving deuchebags.

Also, whoever it is that fucking squawked on me and my underground Jackalope Baseball games is a fucking dead man. I mean that literarilly. Nobody screws with Woody without getting shanked hardcore. I may end up in jail for this but trust me, I've got guys on the inside and outside and you WILL be put on ice for this. You think I'm scared of jail? I laugh at your bullshit, as I've been there many times.

I'm sitting there in my house, jerking off to ESPN's Around the Horn (Jay Mariotti, although a chode, is a very handsome man) and all these fuckheads dressed as a SWAT team burst through my frond door and start throwing shit all over my living room (I found out the guys dressed in SWAT attire were actually a living breathing SWAT team). They fucking went into my basement and found all of my cages where I kept and had been breeding the jackalopes and stole them all from me. They also found all of my jackalope baseball training gear: the steroids, the jackalope treadmill, the thumbscrew.

In hindsight maybe I should have cleaned up my backyard a little better. I think the stench of many, probably hundreds, of dead jackalope bodies festering in the sun so many days in a row is possibly what prompted the police investigation. In any case, after the trial and/or incarceration I will be back on the streets promoting illegal underground sports involving tiny animals.