That's me posing for our staff picture. They made me reshoot it in front of a plain background because they said it was "too jingoistic", whatever that means!Hey chicken butts, long time no smell. I'm sure all of my devoted fans have been desperately wondering "what happened to that throbbing slice of frosted mancake Daring Armstrong?" Well, I've been pretty busy here at the Timelab, but not doing what I should be doing. Apparently there's a war or something going on, and I heard General Steeliron screaming about tax cuts, so we haven't been able to get any glowing rock things for the Time Portal lately. This is a serious bummer for a man of action such as myself, and my adventures have been scaled down quite a bit while we wait for the next physical year or whatever to buy more glowing rocks. I told Professor Chronos I could go to Spencers at the mall and buy a hundred glowing rocks for about fifty bucks, but he just glared at me and muttered something about "not leaving the facility".
You heard that right! Can you believe that? A true blue hero starts one little fire in the air-recycling system by trying to grill hamburgers in the bathroom and suddenly he's treated like a traitor. My weekend passes got revoked until 2004, and with all of the staff cuts here at the Timelab the only people I have to keep me company are the old Indian women who work in the cafeteria. That isn't to say I have been entirely without adventure, because as you well know I wear adventure like a cloak made from…action.
I would present these mini-capers to you in comic form, but the official Daring Armstrong archive historian Laura Abromowitz is not currently on speaking terms with me. Something about climbing into a ventilation duct and drilling holes in the ceiling above her shower, I don't remember what exactly. It might have been in relation to that adventure I went on in the ventilation system where I got stuck in an L-bend trying to get my hand cream out of my cargo pants. I was suffocating and I had to drill holes in the duct and Laura CLAIMS - in some wild story she wrote down in an official complaint to General Steeliron and that I read in the file accompanying my demotion to junior grade time adventurer - that I was trying to see her naked.
The Timelab really is not as exciting as you would think, as you can see from this picture it's just an office building like any other.Yeah, riiiiiiiiiight. Ha! I'm so over Laura and her "too good and too Jewish for the likes of you" attitude. She's a ball of pent up sexual energy that has gone some sort of nuclear reactor critical and turned frigid and evil. Adios senorita! The time I'm not spending trying to make you realize just how bad you need a checkup from Doctor Love is time I can now devote to even more and awesomer adventures.
Speaking of adventures, I mentioned something about my adventures I've been having in my time off from traveling through the eons. Before I get into that let me give you a little background information that will help inform you about my life and also provide you with a crap load of ways you can make your life way better. I'm talking about my daily routine, what the A-man does every single day since he arrived at the Timelab, and if you read between the lines there's a lot of smoky sex going on but I never kiss and tell unless the girl is a celebrity.
6:30 AM - This is when the damn wakeup call thing starts buzzing at the Timelab. If it were an alarm clock I would just hit the snooze button and maybe check to make sure the girl I spent the night with didn't have a hairy lip. Since the Timelab wakeup alarm sounds for like ten minutes straight and has no snooze button I've devised a little system to make sure I get my beauty sleep. It's called "The Daring Armstrong Magical Pot" and it's not really magic but it's this awesome cooking pot that I taped packing foam inside of and I put it over my head and then I can hardly hear that crap.
9:00ish AM - About this time I wake up refreshed and ready to take on the world. Sometimes there are write up citations for failure to attend roll call on the door to my quarters, but they only dock me pay for that junk so I can just insert those into the circular file. That means the garbage for those of you not hip to military jargon. I eat a Powerbar and then do my workout routine. Here's my routine: 10 sit-ups, 5 push-ups, 1 (sometimes 1 and a half) pull ups, and 300 jumping jacks. A lot of people tell me push-ups are where it's at, but for my money I'll go with the jumping jacks.
10:00 AM - Every morning at ten sharp there is a planning meeting where Dr. Chronos asks us what we intend to accomplish on that day. I used to go to those but I got tired of Dr. Chronos giving me those fat looks of his so now I just hide in a supply closet until 11:00 AM reading "Soldier of Fortune" to see what's hot in the adventure scene. Well, I used to, then the light in the closet burnt out and I can't find any light bulbs so now I try to nap.I think I should probably be the instructor in the class because the guy who teaches self-defense always just says "wow" and shakes his head sadly because he knows he can't harness the dragon like me.11:00 AM - This is when the adventure starts to really heat up every day. We have self-defense training just before lunch and I always go so I can show off the new moves I learned in my various karate books. My favorite karate book has pictures of this guy doing all these moves and then they superimposed a drawing of a dragon over his arms and legs. I think that book has helped me the most because when I go to self-defense class I picture that dragon ghost haunting my arms and legs and giving me the strength of a dragon. Laura Abromowitz used to attend self-defense class but then she got her "gun bars" which means she's allowed to carry a holstered sidearm in the Timelab and she doesn't have to take the class anymore. I had that but then I went on a mission where I shot some prince in ancient England or Ireland or whatever and they revoked my gun bars. I still have two Colt. 45s they don't know about, but I don't carry them too much because they hurt my ankles when I put them in my socks.
LUNCH - I used to love getting lunch in the cafeteria, but ever since the new manager took over they stopped serving hamburgers and mac and cheese. Now they just serve a bunch of foreign crap and the old Indian women start yelling at me when I keep demanding freedom fries with whatever buffalo crud they cooked up in their teepees. Usually I get thrown out by Gus the security guard and then get some long letter telling me to attend racial sensitivity class. What a joke! I have had sex with women of every race including aliens, robots, and something that might have been a horse but I was drunk. If that doesn't entitle me to tell those crazy old bags to smoke a peace pipe then I don't know what does. After getting thrown out I dine on my normal lunch of three power bars, a bowl of Creatin, and a can of Red Bull.
1:00 PM - Not too long after lunch my shift on the Time Scope starts and I have to watch the scanners and computers and crap to make sure they don't find problems in the time line. Dr. Chronos always wonders why I'm so eager to do this job, but I'll let you in on a little secret; you can use the Time Viewer on the Time Scope to look at women taking showers in the past. I have watched Madonna take a bath when she was 19, I've seen Queen Elizabeth toweling off back when she was a fox, and I've spent more time than I care to mention watching Eleanor Roosevelt eating spaghetti naked. That broad is into some crazy stuff, I tell you what.The next time the president invites me to stay in the Lincoln Bedroom I think I'm going to put a tarp over everything.3:00 PM - At three I have to head down to the lab to help Dr. Chronos and Laura Abromowitz with any tests they have going. Dr. Chronos has been going through a divorce though so he hasn't been around as much and Laura seems to think that lab time is nothing but an excuse to feel me up while yelling at me. Even though she's rubbing all over me with alcohol swabs and sticking gigantic needles in my arm and neck and whatnot she tries to play all coy like she doesn't want even more of the A-man. Whenever I start making helpful suggestions like "I've got an injection for you" or "Radioactive dye, huh? I've got a radioactive dye for you" or "sigmoid colonoscopy, I've got a sigmoid colonoscopy for you" she starts screaming. She is also always blabbering about how great her fiancée is, but I met him at last year's Christmas party and the only thing great about that twerp is the great lack of adventure he has. Don't get me started on him though, he's yesterday's news once Laura rides the A-train.
5:00 PM - This is technically for free time before dinner, but I usually feel really weird after the shots Laura gives me so I head to the aid station for a heaping helping of Sexynursebot. Because of the budget problems we haven't been able to fix Sexynursebot since the incident in August with the mysterious fluid that spilled on her when I was receiving treatment. Dr. Chronos told me not to go to the aid station until they can get a maintenance man to take a look at her but I just can't keep away from her sassy talk. I admit, there have been some instances where I walked out of the aid station wishing I hadn't visited it in the first place. Like the time Sexynursebot was giving me a back massage and I somehow fell asleep and then woke up and three of my toes were missing. I was like "hey!" but then when I came back the next day the same thing happened and my toes were back only they weren't in the right order. That doesn't happen too often though, and usually things work out if I keep visiting, like with the toes only my shoes feel funny now with the big toe in the middle.
6:00 PM This is dinner time and I always suggest a pizza party and Dr. Pepper but then we always get tacos and Diet Pepsi and it's not fair.
7:00 PM through Lights Out - This period of time is almost always free so we just do whatever we want. I used to play ping pong in the lounge with this Chinese guy that I called Ching-Chong and he would swear for ages in his crazy talk. Then he got laid off because of budget cutbacks and I think maybe also because he is a minority and also too because he was pretty ugly. Acne problems are big in Asia.
Now I devote the entirety of my free time to getting my swerve on, and I think you know what that means if you're a Red Blooded American. We're not allowed to have alcohol in the base but the guy in the garage sells this weird green and really sweet booze he makes himself. I usually put a bunch of that in a pitcher and invite some of the girls over for a little party that always ends in sweaty sex. Well, okay, I used to. Now I can't leave the base to find women, or travel back in time and hook up with a hottie, and most of the staff has been downsized, so mostly it's me and the Indian women from the cafeteria. We play gin rummy and get drunk and I tell them my tales of adventure and then pretend to act interested while they babble about Calcutta or pox blankets or whatever.
You're just not ready for action like this.That's pretty much my day-to-day schedule in a nutshell, although keep in mind that because the Time Portal is out of commission and because I am not allowed to leave the base my adventures are pretty low key. I mean to say, they're low key compared to what they used to be. Compared to everyone else like normal people like bankers, and construction workers, and bomb disposal experts my life is still totally full of adventure and intensity. Come to think of it my adventures are so exciting - so completely intense - that I don't think you're ready for them yet.
I'm not going to tell you about the time that the Arborbot escaped from the greenhouse and tried to kill us all with its sheers. I won't even make reference to the adventure I had in the cafeteria when the commies sent their secret agent to steel the Time Core. She used a sleeping gas to knock everyone else out but I was strangling myself with my belt in the bathroom at the time for no particular reason and was somehow unaffected and had a gun fight with her and then we totally made out in the lounge and I got her number. I don't think your mind could even begin to wrap around the sheer awesomeness of my encounter with the Tyrannosaurus Rex that wandered out of the Time Portal when I accidentally turned it on and then I had to disguise it as my wife for six days before I could recharge the Time Core with car batteries I stole and send it back through. Don't even worry about the aliens that detected fluctuations in the timeline and traveled from the future to warn me about trying to cook hamburgers in the bathroom.
I'm sorry people, you just aren't prepared for this information. Take some time, meditate on it like my good buddy Keanu would say, and then maybe try to live in my shoes for a few seconds. Just seconds man, and then you'll appreciate the true mind-bending adventure that it is to be Daring Armstrong.
Rejected By The Comic Book Code Authority
Hi guys, it's me Livestock. Can I borrow a hundred dollars? Please? No? Well, okay. Anyway, I'm very much pleased to announce that we've returned to a classic theme we haven't touched in a long time. Comic book covers are on the menu this week, and next week as well. With so many fancy submissions coming my way, I decided to do a double helping. Sorry, but I'm just a nerd who likes classic comic book covers. Here is a sample of what our fine forum goers have crafted:
Please be a sport and check this shit out, okay? And while you're at it, do us a favor and check out this week's sponsor, FreaingNews.com. If you can't get enough Photoshop action, then this site will definitely help calm your murderous lust. FreakingNews features daily Photoshop contests themed around current events, and it is all team based no less. The teams are based on America's Neapolitan assortment of political flavors - republicans, democrats, and independents. You can even score some cash competing in contests. It's not enough to fund your very own South American contra group, but then nobody is going to pay you that kind of money for making silly images. Go check them out!
And you thought women had one-dimensional script intros that treated them like sex objects. Ewoks have it even worse.
No one seems to like the new Doom box art. But it's still the same old Doom Guy under that space marine helmet. Right?
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