Before I begin today's update, I would like to remind everyone that my book My Tank is Fight! is only days away from its October 3rd release. It is available from Amazon or, if you prefer, you can pick up a copy from Barnes and Noble. It is also available in many brick and mortar bookstores.

Many people have emailed me asking for a sample and many people have emailed me asking about the fictional elements of the book. There is a rough draft sample chapter available in PDF form, but I thought I might offer a little something to (hopefully) please both groups. It's an excerpt from chapter 13, the fictional encounter of American reporter R.E. Lincoln with the German Daimler Project Series flying bombs and carrier aircraft.

7:49 PM February 23rd, 1945
Area Bombing of “Yellowfin”, Bomber Group 5, Lancaster “My Salty Lady”
Approaching Pforzheim, Germany

“Hang on to your tackle,” the pilot advised. “We’re about to get shot to ribbons.”

The nose machineguns clattered. Something crashed against the Lancaster and the whole aircraft rocked violently.

“Aw, quit windin’ ‘em up, Sully.” The copilot leaned back and gave R.E. a crooked grin. “We only been ‘it a bit. Nothing we can’t soldier through.”

“Tell that to the number three.” The pilot feathered the prop and with a jerk it coughed and sputtered back to life.

R.E. Lincoln fought down the vomit rising in his throat and grabbed one of the upright supports next to the bombardier’s post. When he leaned back and looked to the front of the aircraft he could see a constant flash of explosions and the deceptively slow arcs of tracers curving up through the sky. The view did little to calm his stomach.

“’Ere we are then,” the copilot gestured expansively, “lovely Yellowfin. Looks like we’re a wee bit late fer the party.”

“Try not to give me any bumps,” the bombardier shot R.E. a serious look and dropped his earphones onto his head.

“Holy God.” The copilot seemed at a loss for more descriptive words.

“Mister Lincoln,” the pilot began, “you might want to pop up here and have a look.”

R.E. reluctantly abandoned the relative reliability of his spot next to the bombardier and began to walk up the shaking fuselage towards the cockpit. He found handholds where he could and bit his tongue when something rattled the side of the plane and nearly bowled him over. When R.E. was able to steady himself on the pilot and copilot seats he looked through the windscreen. The view of the city below was nothing short of apocalyptic.

“That ought to pay Jerry back for London all by itself.” The pilot sounded genuinely impressed.

“Caw, pay them back fer Ol’ Trafford, more like.” The copilot scoffed. “Burn ‘em to a cinder, I say.”

The city was one contiguous fire, raging high into the sky and dwindling to isolated fires around its edges. Every moment another storm of incendiary bombs crashed down into the inferno and raised a plume of flames and a gust of black smoke.

“What’s that?” R.E. pointed out the window.

“That’s Yellowfin, the objective.” The pilot explained.

“It’s where we-“

“No,” R.E. interrupted, “what is that?”

He jabbed his finger against the windscreen.

There was another flare in the sky ahead of them. The burst was too small to be a flak explosion and it kept burning and growing larger. A third flare finally caught the pilot’s attention.

“I don’t-,”

The aircraft passed them with a distinct engine roar. It was moving faster than anything R.E. Lincoln had ever seen. It resembled one of the buzz bombs the Germans were still occasionally using, but larger and with what distinctly looked like a cockpit. R.E. pressed against the pilot and both men leaned to the side glass to watch the strange aircraft pass. It dipped its wings a bit and plunged straight into the cockpit of a nearby Lancaster. The big bomber dropped its nose, pulled up again and then exploded. Not a single recognizable piece could be seen in the cloud of burning debris.

“Oh fuck.” The pilot stated with remarkable dryness.

A second flying bomb zoomed past them as scarcely more than a blur of light. A third seemed to be headed directly at their aircraft.

“Ross,” the pilot addressed the nose gunner, “if you would be so kind, please shoot Jerry’s new bomb.”

The Lancaster’s nose gun began hammering. The tracers disappeared into the dark shape hidden by night at the end of the engine exhaust. They did nothing, had no impact, and as R.E. watched the flying bomb grow larger and larger he felt as if he were in a dream. It was the sort of dream in which he would see a tornado drawing near, yet could do nothing to move or seek shelter. Fate could not be stopped.

Ross stopped fate with his twin .30 caliber machineguns. The flying bomb exploded in a brilliant flash and a moment later the Lancaster slammed through its debris trail. Something popped in the number three engine and it began to burn. There was a moment of stunned silence and then the pilot regained his senses.

“Not the end of the world,” the pilot said, flipping switches on the control panel.

“Aw, be honest now, Sully.” The copilot looked to R.E. and gave him a crooked grin. “We’re proper fucked now, mate.”

R.E. Lincoln staggered back to his safe spot next to the bombardier and resolved to stare directly at the floor of the aircraft until it had landed.

If you enjoyed that, if you have enjoyed my articles in the past or you're just interested in strange inventions of World War II, then please order a copy of my book!

Now, on with the update! I am very proud to introduce Echelon: An Interactive Play In One Act...

Scene 1: A Parked Rental Car in Virginia.

Bardu

Greetings to you, what vexes thee?

Ismael

The President of the United States of America,
As are the tallies of senators past and present,
My very essence boils at the thought,
Of these rogues,
Free men who still draw breath

Bardu

Aye, I see this too,
A seething dragon of inequity,
Dwells and stinks within Motte and Bailey,
Western fortress of excrement,
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

Ismael

I have determined to slay the President, Bardu.

Bardu

May my own blade bite deep, Ismael

Ismael

Praise Allah, Bardu

Bardu

Allahu Ackbar, Ismael

Scene 2: A Skating Rink in Washington D.C.

Horatio

Death to Israel,
Death to America,
The jihad roars like witchfire within my cockles

Bardu

Tidings to you my Al Qaeda brother,
We do not fear the epoch of injustice,
With haste we close its pages,
Ismael and I will soon end the President

Horatio

Good to hear at long last,
But what of the senate and their lackies,
And the degenerate whores who bare their flesh,
And the scions of wealth who control the world?

Bardu

That is the subject of whence I speak,
For the slumbering must be over,
All men of action and of Allah,
Must rise now and greet the day,
To bring down this foul Dragon

Horatio

This is very good,
Plans must be wrought,
With haste and vigor,
For the sun is low,
And the time is right

Bardu

The leaders must convene,
In hallowed halls of learning,
Where prying eyes are heavy-lidded,
And we are free to seek the truth

Horatio

We gather then at the library,
As the dark curtains of the firmament,
Draw closed around us

Bardu

So too do those curtains,
Close slowly on the era,
Of the Great Satan.

Scene 3: The Dark Library

Ismael

It is good to see you brothers,
I was just researching vital schemes,
To fold and mingle with our own

Bardu

I am certain of your truth, dear Ismael
Alas, no possibility that your path,
Returned you once again,
To your lustful ways of the he-boys

Ismael

Your words are like arrows,
Lashing through my breast,
Wounding my inner heart

Horatio

Let us dally not on this subject,
My patience is like your bodkin,
Worn thin and frayed already

Ismael

I did not bring up the matter,
T'was Bardu and his cruel-

Horatio

No more will I hear of this!
The plans are moving already,
Rental vans and police uniforms,
Targets picked out upon the globe,
Now all we must do is turn to the computer,
And allow Google Maps to light our way

Bardu

I am vexed by Google Maps,
The lambent fox collapses beneath it,
Perhaps Map Quest is a-

Agent Cooper

FBI MOTHERFUCKERS!
Everybody down on your faces!
DOWN! DOWN!
Get down on the floor!
He's got a gun!

Horatio

Thus forsake fuck,
Our plans so hastily undone,
While comrades and brothers cower,
I will not be renditioned softly,
From this mortal coil

Agent Cooper

BANG!

Horatio

AH! I die! I am dead!

Agent Cooper

The doer of evil has not,
His deeds remain undone,
Unraveled and in ruin.
This incredible thing,
Salvation and peace,
We owe to...

ALL

ECHELON!

FIN

Hello there friends and online associates, Livestock here. The Something Awful Forum Goons have put together another fine Phriday, this time showing us what the subjects of classic art do when off the clock to relax, unwind, and have fun.
I love this link!! Adult Star Diary (thanks Kalvano) -

Adult Star Diary is Livejournal for porn stars. About two dozen of them have signed up and they have their own little friends lists and blogs. First off, don't get your hopes up about the site being erotic. There are some naked photos of each of the members, but their blogs are wastelands of erotica. I've seen more sex talk on the website for a funeral home.

The women are, rather predictably, a mixture of vapid harlots and damaged goods. One girl is obsessed with Everquest, another is really into psychic healing and crystals. The majority seem to use the site as nothing more than a promotion tool for their events. A few, like the aforementioned crystal chick, are quite prolific. A good example of the average girl on the site is Mercedes Summers. Her blog is like a really boring soap opera in which she describes fights with her fiance - a guy who is still married to his "ex"-wife - and arguments they have had over how to train their puppy.

8am.. we wake up.. hes happy and dancing.. then piss's a RIVER.. then plays I feed him breakfest. then he goes and craps. plays and craps.. then plays and CRAPS.. 3 craps in the morning!!!.. so I know he can hold IT.. but I dont wanna rely on that. Cause one time I woke up at 7:30 when I heard him walking I seen he pissed SO much it ran out of the paper, and all the way across the kitchen floor. YEY. not his fault. He wasnt in trouble. he usually plays and so on intel 10am

10am sleeps intel about 12. noon. wakes up piss's.. plays and shit!.. working on training

2pm-sleeps intel 3pm.. play but no pee or shit. works on the training

3pm-6-7pm.. we walk him, work the crap out of him. train him again. craps and pees.

7pm-9pm sleeps!

9pm-plays, pees and eat intel 10pm.

10pm-4:30 am pee (sometimes) almost sleeps the night. Or sleeps right intel 7:30am.

Mercedes is probably at the smart end of the spectrum. I guess you don't need no book learnin' when everything you need to know comes out of a dick.

The real star attraction at Adult Star Diary, the girl who gives the site its magic, is Taylor Rain. Taylor Rain is either the stupidest human being able to breath under their own power, or she's an ingenious creation of her ex-husband and "writer", Mark Feyner.

HAD A WICKED PISSA CHAT LAST NIGHT!!!

I HAD A FUCKIN BLAST MAKIN POT BROWNIES ON MY LIVE CHAT!!!! I HAD A LOT OF PEOPLE IN THERE CUZ THE LAST TWO HOURS WE LET PEOPLE GO ON THERE FOR FREE!!!!!!!! THEY JUST WANTED ME TO SUCK DICK BUT I WAS A WORKIN GIRL IN THE KITCHEN!!! WHEN I TOOK A SMOKE BREAK. IT WASNT REALLY A BREAK CUZ THEY ALL WANTED ME TO BE IS A WHORE AND SPREAD MY LEGS LIKE A WHORE!!! FUCK IT!!! ANYWAYS, I MADE 4 TRAYS OF POT BROWNIES AND THEY GET YOU FUCKIN FADED!!! I'M HYPED!!! I HAD A GREAT TIME AND I CAN'T WAIT TIL NEXT WEEK!!! GOTTA GO CUZ I'M GOIN TO THE SPA FOR A MASSAGE AND TO CHILL OUT AND RELAX FROM MY ROUGH WEEK!!!!

She loves her capslock key, or at least hit it once and then forgot it existed. I've compiled some surprising facts about Taylor Rain from reading all of her diary entries. You should read them all too.

• Owns pitbulls! - "'PUT YOUR DOGS ON A LEASH!' SOME BITCH YELLED AT US. 'FUCK YOU! MY PITBULLS ARE THE BEST! YOUR DOG SUCKS!'
• Loves drugs, but not all drugs! - "POINT IS DON'T TAKE STACKERS! SMOKE POT!!!"
• Can sometimes be forgetful! - "I THOUGHT IT WAS AT 4:20PM JUST LIKE LAST WED. ANYWAYS, MY BAD!!!"
• Got pregnant and had a miscarriage two weeks later! - "SHIT HAPPENS AND YOU HAVE NO WAY IN CONTOLLING SOME THINGS."
• May be slightly racist or worse, a Mencia fan! - "WASHIN THE TRUCK LIKE A BEENER!!!"
• Quite handy around the kitchen! - "I AM MAKING HER SOME MUDSLIDES, STEAKS, CORN, AND SOMETHING ELSE AND A CUMCUBER DRINK!!"

If Taylor Rain is real and not some marketing creation, then she is pretty much the ultimate porn star and I think I love her. Unfortunately, she's too stupid to be true.

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Greetings Citizen,

As required by United States government protocol 43-X14-A (Operation: M.I.N.D.C.R.I.M.E.S.) it is now mandatory for all government employees to claim that all funds received from this job (avg. $5.15/hr) will not support terrorists or the infrastructure(s) of their various caves that dot the American Southwest (identified by Terrorist Satellite Imagery*).

Due to the accidental arrest and subsequent execution of the entire cast of Disneyland’s Aladdin’s Magic Carpet Adventure, we feel that it is important to clarify just which people, groups, coporations and products are recognized as threats to the American government. And in this climate of war and aging rockers protesting the land of the free,** the list of threats to citizens like you grows day by day. Please review the following additions to the Official Terror List, then report to your assigned “Danger Zone” for stage two of Operation: M.I.N.D.C.R.I.M.E.S.

Your Pal,
The Government

* See attached Spelunker Battle Guide (SBG).
** Purchase necessary.

TASTE THE TERROR

TERROR
• The Society for a More Exploded Israel
• That guy who programmed the hover bike level in Battletoads
• Spicy Pete’s Explosive Fertilizer
• Microsoft 2002 Flight Simulator LAN Deathmatch Parties
• Frank “Speecy Spicy” Martinez
• Wastey, the Gasoline-Burning Clown
• North Dakota
• People who purposely take up two parking spaces (I mean, come on; no one is going to scratch your 1995 Beretta)
• Kamp Kablammo: Where Taliban Children Learn Through Play
• Anthrax Top, the chemical weapons prop comic
• Anyone who uses Zip Disks, the proprietary media format for terror
• NPR, which makes Americans both sleepy and educated
• Phil Wilkins, the world’s richest potato
• The Society for a Less Exploded Iraq
• ”Ape” Johnson’s Discount Passports
• Fans of jazz
• Fans of jazz fusion
• Those lacking an appreciation of adult contemporary, the soothing soundtrack of most major dentist offices
• Nike, for their new “detonator” version of The Pump
• Gary Trudeau and the smarm industry
• Captain Mutt’s Dynamite Cummerbunds (for novelty purposes only)
• The Estate of the Late Captain Mutt

TERROR
• Funny Item #23
• Those stubborn grass stains (There’s got to be a better way!)
• Dropo, the Laziest Man on Mars
• J.D. Salinger, the Laziest Man on Earth
• Harper Lee, the Laziest Woman on Earth
• The 1995 Charlotte Hornets
• Just for Men beard and mustache dye (promotes younger and healthier-looking terror)
• The Trilogy of Terror
• The Twilight Zone’s Tower of Terror
• The Markel Family of Tapdancing Expatriates
• Flag Away™ Flag Repellant
• The following concepts (if you can find a way to give money to concepts, please do not): terror / small-scale, marginal terror (usu. bee-related) / “Thanksgiving-style” fullness / workplace Friday topical humor / confusion-based terror (ex. when you have to sneeze, but can’t) / sexual confusion-based terror (ex. finding yourself very attracted to a character in a Squaresoft game, then discovering 20 hours later that this character is a man)
• Death to America brand pork chili
• Japanimations
• Afghanistanimations
• Iranimations
• Talibanimations
• The producers of Porky’s III: Smash the State
• The “writers” of Star Ocean 3: Till the End of Time (alleged to be a feral pack of anti-American snow monkeys)
• Novelty bomb squads
• A “very special” Blossom
• DDR fans unaware that they peaked in the womb

TERROR
• Tornado Jones, the Human Beatbox and Killing Machine
• Tall buildings that ruin everything for everyone
• Freedom Fighter brand Falafel Fixins
• Lieutenant Disaster’s Commercial Airline Shooting Range
• Bed, Bath, and Beyond’s towel department
• Sparky “Robert” Fitch, The Man Who Loved Constitutions
• Skeeter and the Gooch, two kittens who stole the heart of America and refuse to give it back
• The Hurricane Factory
• The Nazi Husbandry Association (NHA)
• Bipedal robots able to balance themselves (ex. Tickle Me Elmo X)
• Famous Skyscraper Blueprints Magazine
• Flip Peterson, the tallest man of the Dakotas
• The entire cast of the Broadway musical Al-Sadr Get Your Gun
• pick up kids from minstrel show
• call Molly about dog excavation
• bread
• milk
• eggs
• AND YOU.

Rapper, actor and ho dealer Ice T appears in this week's Horrors of Porn to teach us all about love. I mean pimping.
Major in pimping and read the article. You won't actually receive a pimping degree, but you will receive the people's ovation. FoxFire Comic Strip 2.0 (thanks psych) - David Gonterman is a very prolific pervert/shitty artist on the Internet. Below, I have assembled a succession of progressively worse panels from his comic, FoxFire(no relation to the Internet browser that won't fucking stop crashing on me).

Big Comic

And it gets worse from here.

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