For those of you that missed it, Anderson’s started the Blog Wars. Here’s the explaination.

From My Blog Skip: John Wayne Gacy, Jesus Christ and Lance Armstrong are in
a bar. The bartender approaches them and asks what they’ll have. Jesus says
that he’ll take a….

…glass of plain water. He wants to turn it into wine, save himself a few
bucks, but he ‘s not going to tell the bartender that.

“Are you the designated driver then?”
“Sure” answers Christ.

The bartender turns his focus to Gacy, who’s dressed head to toe like a clown,
covered in mysterious stains, and carrying a dark green satchel over his shoulder.
Before the bartender can inquire about Gacy’s apparel his focus shifts to
Armstrong. Armstrong smiles, and offers his hand for a shake.

“Hi, I’m Lance Armstrong, perhaps you’ve heard of me, I won the…”

The bartender interrupts him, pointing at the Livestrong bracelet around the
biker’s arm.

“We don’t allow those in here, you’re gonna have to take it off.”

Armstrong and Christ look shocked. Avoiding trouble, Gacy grabs a bowl of
peanuts off the bar and retires with his satchel to a booth alone. Armstrong pulls
back his arm and looks at the bracelet.

“This bracelet is a representation of my bravery and tenacity when I beat
cancer. It represents -“
“We don’t allow them in our bar. Either take it off, or leave.”

Armstrong looks back at Christ, who shrugs, and motions for him to remove the
bracelet.

“I…I can’t remove it…It’s…it’s the only way I’ve survived all these
years…”
“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.” says the bartender coldly, as
he reaches beneath the bar for his pump action shot gun. Three large biker
types to Armstrong’s right get off their stools and move back from the bar.

“You don’t understand, it’s part of me…”
“Oh for father’s sake, Armstrong, just take the fucker off already”
shouts Christ as he reaches towards the bracelet to remove it himself.

Armstrong tries to move his away from Jesus’ clawed fingers, but reacts too
slowly. Christ manages a good grip, and quickly tears the bracelet forward over
Armstrong’s hand. Unfortunately, Armstrong isn’t lying about the bracelet being
a part of him, and with it all the skin from his wrist and hand is cleanly
torn. The sound ripping flesh brings Gacy to his feet. Everyone freezes, their
mouths ajar as Armstrong’s skinless hand twitches and leaks thick red blood all
over the barroom’s hardwood floor. Finally, Christ breaks the silence.

“Jesus Christ.”

As Armstrong begins screaming Christ reacts by trying to slide
the skin back over the tendons and bones, but it just tears, and in his
fumbling his hands stick to Armstrong’s fleshless and bloody muscles. Armstrong
pushes him away, knocking him against the bar, and spilling his wine. The
bartender backs towards the wall behind him, shotgun drawn, and notices the
wine dripping off the bar.

“Did you steal my booze?”

Jesus looks back at the bartender, mouth agape and arms waving
in the air, and shrugs. The moment is broken by Armstrong.

“Oh God! Oh God it’s happening! The bracelet was the only
thing keeping it at bay!”

Christ and the bartender look at each other, than back at
Armstrong, whose attention has been refocused on his own groin. A bulge is
growing beneath his spandex bike shorts. The bulge swells at an alarming rate,
quickly tearing through the right side of the spandex. The mass is flesh
colored, textured like a mollusk’s shell, and engulfed in thick, coarse hair.

“What the fuck is that, Lance?!” Christ shouts, dropping the
floppy remains of Armstrong’s hand skin and Livestrong bracelet.

“It’s the cancer. We cut one out, but the other wouldn’t
die! Aarguue! She kept growing, she threatened to take over the world! The
power of the bracelet was the only thing that kept her under control! Aaaaiieee!!”

The testicular tumor is now larger then Armstrong’s head,
and emitting terrible noises, like a screaming infant. Christ begins to
frantically dig in his pockets as the three bikers try to move around behind
the commotion and out the exit. The bartender appears to have had enough, and
raises the gun to the monster escaping Armstrong’s pants.

But he reacts too late. The screaming tumor rips its way out
of Armstrong’s skin, and slathers the entire bar, tender, Christ, Gacy, and the
three bikers included, in the biker’s vital fluids. Christ wipes some of the
gore from his face, then continues fumbling in his pockets, but no one seems to
notice. As the tumor creature continues to swell Gacy lifts his bag from the
booth and produces…

Continued in Erix blog.

(I’m so sorry Eric, the story got away from me a bit…)