Please don't feed PickleMan
Please don't feed PickleMan
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by: Protoclown

The other day I was going to see a movie, and parked in front of the theater was the ever-annoying Bloodmobile that seems to follow me wherever I go. As I approached, I noticed the Blade II posters plastered all over the thing, as well as a sign on the door that read "Velcome to my Bloodmobile". Now those two discoveries alone were reason enough for me to set fire to the damned thing, but on top of that, as I was walking past to get to the ticket line, some asshole wearing a Blood Drive T-shirt asked me if I wanted to donate. "Yeah, sure, I'm going to see a movie that starts in five minutes. Of course I'll take fifteen minutes out of my time to donate blood!"

Hi kids! I'm Drippy!
Yes the bloodmobile.
Home to "Drippy", the singing blood drop.
He'll sing you show tunes and then molest you
when you're dizzy and weak.

Seeing this reminded me of the last blood drive we had at my workplace, where they plastered all kinds of obnoxious and annoying signs advertising the event over every blank space on the wall. The best part though was that they put one on the men's bathroom door. Every time I went into the bathroom, I couldn't avoid noticing the "Give blood. Save lives." poster as I walked through the door. I wanted to change the poster to read "Give blood. Eat Taco Bell." but decided better of it, since I would like to keep a steady paycheck coming in for a while longer, anyway. Those of you still foolish or insane enough to eat at that wretched abomination of a "restaurant" know EXACTLY what I'm talking about.

Oddly, they didn't put such a sign on the women's bathroom. Gee, I guess somebody must have thought that might be construed as inappropriate, being on the women's bathroom door and all. But to put one on the men's room door, whereas men typically DON'T bleed in the bathroom unless something is a little "off", is just a-okay!

Thinking about the last blood drive at work reminded me of the blood drive we had at work before THAT, where I actually did donate blood. They passed out little informational flyers the day before, giving us a series of tips to follow to make sure our blood giving operation went as smoothly as possible. Now, seeing as how I don't normally eat breakfast at all, a single Pop Tart seemed like a "good breakfast" to me. Especially since it was a brown sugar cinnamon flavored one. The horrible nausea and headache I felt the rest of the day disagreed with the "good breakfast" assessment, however. Much to my regret.

Anyway, I went into the dreaded Bloodmobile and had to answer a series of ridiculously personal questions, so they could make sure I wasn't diseased or anything.

Have you had unprotected sex in the last six months?

Have you ever had sex with another male in the past five years?

Have you ever fucked a sheep?

Have you ever masturbated to a picture of Liza Minnelli? If so, DEAR GOD WHY?? WHAT THE FUCK HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU INSANE??

And so on and so forth. You get the idea. Anyway, after I answer the stupid questions, they lead me back into the central area of the Bloodmobile, where they lay me down and get me set up for the blood extraction. They position me with my arm sticking out into the main walkway that people have to use, and then tell me NOT to move it. Then they bring a goddamned parade through the Bloodmobile, various donors and bitchy nurses and the like, and each and every one of them just HAS to bump my arm as they walk by. So I move it. And then I feel the needle shift in my arm, apparently just flailing around in there and poking the hell out of whatever the hell it feels like. I had a purple bruise the size of a fist on my arm for a week. People ran away when they saw me coming, because they thought I had leprosy.

Reminiscing over that wonderful blood drive experience reminded me of the time that I found that bloody tampon in my Burger King chicken sandwich... anyway, the point of all this is that I hate Blood Drives. I hate the fucking Bloodmobile that stalks me wherever I go. And I really, really, really, really hate Blade II.

We hate you Drippy. WE HATE YOU.
"Remember kids, donate blood... and your souls!"

note: Protoclown vants to suck your blood. Actually, he doesn't. So please, keep your diseased bodily fluids the hell away from him... you nasty freaks.

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