Okay, I’m usually a pretty patient person and not given to griping and/or complaining a lot, but I’ve just about had it up to here with this horse’s ass who calls himself “porfle.” Who does he think he is, anyway, with all of his “porfle vs. this” and “porfle vs. that”?
In order to try and find out, I decided to interview him. Needless to say, it was a visually and emotionally disturbing experience. And I’m still trying to get the smell out of my clothes.
porfle: What’s that you’re doing–pretending to juggle, or milking an imaginary cow?
porfle: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
porfle: What makes you think you have the right to jabber about your worthless opinions on the Internet?
porfle: What makes you think you have the right to not shut up? Oh, and that’s a rhetorical question. So instead of answering it, just shut up.
porfle: Are you always this snippy?
porfle: I thought I told you to shut up.
porfle: What do you call these little things that you write? I really don’t think they qualify as “articles.” They’re too disorganized and uninformed to be regarded as “essays”, and they’re too lame to be called “rants.” Really, to me they just seem like random blather.
porfle: I call them “random blather.”
porfle: No, seriously.
porfle: Ha ha, okay, seriously…I call them “diss-kabobs.”
porfle: That sounds pretty stupid to me.
porfle: Well, you’re a dumbass.
porfle: What’s your favorite movie?
porfle: The one where your mom explodes and rabid hyenas devour the chunks. And you get gang-raped by buffalos. On VH1. I also liked the sequel, where the baby alien gets lost on his way to your chest and bursts out of your ass.
porfle: Why do you dislike Billy Crystal so much? He’s obviously pretty talented, or he wouldn’t be where he is today.
porfle: Billy Crystal murdered my parents. I was only eleven. We had just left the theater after seeing ROCKET MEN FROM MARS, and Billy Crystal accosted us as we were taking a shortcut through a dark alley. His bloated, unshaven face was a hideous scowl of pure hatred for Mankind and all that is decent. He had a gun and growled, “Hand over the wallet and the jewelry or I blow the brat’s head off.” Well, Dad made a grab for the gun, and–
porfle: This sounds a lot like the origin of Batman.
porfle: No, it doesn’t.
porfle: Do you really detest “Star Trek”‘s Ensign Chekov as much as you say you do?
porfle: No. In fact, I have an Ensign Chekov Real Doll. A custom job, costing over $20,000 to have it designed according to my exact specifications, if you know what I mean.
porfle: I’m not sure I do.
porfle: Well, it screams like a girl whenever I touch it. Which turns me on big-time. And it has really big hair–bigger than Mickey Dolenz, bigger than Herman’s Hermits.
porfle: Is it “anatomically-correct”?
porfle: That depends on how you define the phrase. Instead of genitalia, it has a built-in player piano that plays “Yankee Doodle” whenever you put in a nickel. But, according to legend, so did Ensign Chekov.
porfle: How did you afford to pay $20,000 for it?
porfle: I robbed a bank, disguised as actress Anne Heche. My getaway vehicle was a cement mixer filled with goose-liver pate’. I am still at large.
porfle: Why does it smell like cat whizz in here?
porfle: Because I’m sitting in the chair that my cat doesn’t like to whizz in.
porfle: “Brady Bunch” or “Partridge Family”?
porfle: Partridge Family, of course.
porfle: Really? Because I notice you have all three seasons of “The Brady Bunch” on videotape.
porfle: Oh, you mean to watch? I thought you meant to hang on rotating meat hooks and feed to alligators and grizzly bears on live television.
porfle: Have you ever been psychoanalyzed?
porfle: Yes. But I couldn’t afford an actual psychoanalyst, so I went to a plumber instead.
porfle: What were his findings?
porfle: I had a stuck valve. That’s why my water bill has been so high for the last six months.
porfle: Where do you see yourself in, say, five years?
porfle: In a mirror. Ha ha, pulled the old “dipsy-doodle” on you.
porfle: What do you hope your legacy will be?
porfle: I just want to be remembered as a humble man who tried, in his own small way, to entertain and enlighten people. And also as the “Fifth Beatle.”
porfle: Who’s your favorite Spice Girl, and why?
porfle: Sporty, because, unlike the other Spice Girls, she has never crapped on my front porch at six in the morning and stuck a cocktail umbrella in it.