Moving to http://greaterthanscooterblog.blogspot.com/

For those of you who follow this patchy-ass blog (read: no one), the blog will be starting over here. That's right, greaterthanscooterblog.blogspot.com . Because it's all I can get.

The Thr33 LOL Pigg3hz

Once upon a midnight dreary, as I pondered...

Oops. Let me start again.

Once upon a tiem, there were these three pigs. [Plot Hole] Who had fallen into rather inconsiderately placed vat-o-chemicals, causing them to mutate into horrendous super-pigs that can walk and speak and shit. Oh, and a wolf fell in, too. [/Plot Hole]

So anyway, these 3 pigs were walking around in this big forest, and decided that they needed to settle down and get houses so as to attract freakish mutie-pig mates. And so they began constructing houses.

The first one, Sucky McWeakling, was a pansy-ass douche and so half-assed his house by building it out of fail. And because he's just so goddamn pathetic, he decided that it was good enough. However, he did not plan for what was to happen. The aforementioned cancerous wolf-creature was slithering along, and caught a whiff of Sucky and his shit-house. Drawn by the pungent odor, he oozed up to the door.
"Little Pig, Little Pig, Let me in."
"Is that supposed to scare me? Really?" replied Sucky.
"Not really. It's just part of the formulaic exchange we are plot bound to make. This is the part where you say no, and somehow link that to your facial hair."
"Oh. Well then. Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin."
"Yeah? Well FUCK YOU!!!!111!1"

So the tumor-ridden carnivor blew a mighty gale of wind into the fail-house, and Sucky was left no option but run to his brother's house.

The brother, Mediocre McMedium (apparently the pigs were Irish) was a little more safety oriented, and slightly more ambitious in his home building. But he still didn't do much, and so had a house made of Meh.
When his brother came calling, Mediocre stuck his fuck-nugget of a brother in the basement with the cockroaches and other slimy things. Hearing that there was a wolf on the way, Mediocre also tried to make some improvements to the home, but as we all know, you can have all the meh in the world, and it will still be only meh.

So this time the wolf, tired of chasing the first brother, skipped the exchange entirely.
"Look you assholes, I just ran 3 miles after that shitwidget pig on 5 and 3/5 legs. Do you have any idea how difficult that is? Just open the fucking door so I can eat you, and lets be done."
"Not by the hair of our-"
"DON'T YOU FUCKING SAY IT YOU GODDAMN SWINE! SO HELP ME, IF YOU FINISH THAT, I WILL DEFILE YOU IN WAYS YOU CANNOT EVEN COMPREHEND! I WILL PREFORM ACTS ON YOU BODIES, LIVING AND DEAD, THAT EVEN YOUR DISEASED, FUNGAL MINDS WOULD DISINTEGRATE INTO PULPY GREEN MUSH JUST FROM THINKING ABOUT, IF YOU COMPLETE THAT SENTENCE."
"... Dude. What the fuck is your problem?" Said Mediocre through the door.
"Just fucking let me in." Mumbled the wolf.
"Negative."
"Please?"
"No."

So the wolf, thoroughly pissed, huffed and puffed and whatnot, and the meh house collapsed.

The brothers, with only one option, fled to the safety of their oldest brother's house.

This brother, Strongy MacBadass (this one's Scottish) was trained by the Army Corp of Engineers (and while this would normally mean that whatever he built would break when most needed, he's actually good at what he does) and is a fucking beast, and so built a house made of win. That is, if win is inch-thick titanium plating, reinforced outer walls, automated 50 caliber turrets, razor wire, and 5 robotic attack dogs, all powered by the limp form of Jesus strapped into a chair underneath the complex (we'll pretend here that jesus is magic).

When the wolf approached this unconquerable fortress, he had an inkling that he was well and truly fucked. But, starving by now, he strode up to the main gate. Knowing that threats and blowing (giggity) would not gain him entry, he opted for the sly method.

"UPS."
"Just leave it on the doorstep."
"No can do, buddy. I need a signature."
Strongy, no dumbass like his needle-dicked siblings, had installed a camera system in his home, and could see that this was no friendly UPS deliver-man, bearing who-knows what fantastic items from faraway lands, but was really a sadistic, malformed, odious, throbbing yellow pustule covered wolf.
"Mr. Wolf, I must ask that you vacate the premises. If you do not, I will be forced to take lethal action."
"Umm... Ok. I'll just leave then-"
"ACTIVATE SECURITY SYSTEM!"

With that, the whole compound came to life, turrets firing, flamethrowers flaming, spinning blades whirring, landmines exploding, and general mayhem ensuing. This continued for about 30 minutes or so, and when the ricochets and echos went silent, only scraps of gangrenous, green fur and clouds of sickly yellow pus remained of the wolf. And the moral of the story is this:

DISPOSE OF YOUR CHEMICAL WASTE PROPERLY.