27 thoughts on “I love to help.”

  2. I’ve kind of decided I like the “slow-burn” Idiot Bill burn-it-to-the-ground to the faster accelerant burn-it-all-down-right-now sort of burn that happens when only the marginally stoopid do it. I get to enjoy the spectacle longer. Becoming only marginally stoopid would be a large step upward (much more than the distance between the ground and the tippy-top of Bill’s “most excellent friend’s” head) for Our Bill. Bless his heart.

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    • From page 4 of his epic novel

      “Take some of those books they make you read in school. One I remember was called “Moby Dick.” The title made me laugh when I first saw it and that’s why I decided to read it instead of just taking the “F” like I usually did. I thought it was about something entirely different than what it was about. Instead of being a funny – and by that I mean dirty — story about boys and their parts,‘

      Always has to turn everything into dirty boy sex stories

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  7. From his epic novel, apparently di smelley was a reincarnation….

    “In 1950, Pap took a shine to a high school girl he met at a football game. Her name was Mary Anderson. She came from a family that was just about as society as you could get in Slope Oak, which meant you couldn’t generally tell what they had for dinner by looking at their shirts.”

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  8. Gs13 unsold book grammar

    “Yep! That’s where those Grammy Award-winning lyrics came from. And I started singing them out loud. I must have”

    If you are capitalizing “and”, youse and idiot

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  9. apparently bladder control was an issue pre Parkinson’s

    ‘ like an easy way out, the more I thought about it. So one night, I waited until about an hour after lights out. I had spent the better part of the evening drinking as much water as I could force myself to hold. Soon enough, my bladder felt like it was fit to burst. So I went ahead and stood up on my rack, which is what they call beds in the Navy, and peed all over the mattress. Then I peed on a couple of the beds near me, just for good measure. That woke a few of the fellas up, and soon there was a bunch of yelling and hollering, and it ended up with the Shore Patrol taking me to what they called a brig. A few days later, I was on the bus right back to Slope Oak.

    “

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  10. Annnd who could have guessed this

    “It all started out with a typical case of what I like to call “peanut butter ass” — a condition where a person’s poop is so sticky and greasy that it balls up between the butt cheeks instead of dropping into the bowl. Then when you try to wipe yourself, it’s like trying to wipe several tablespoons of peanut butter out of a tight crevice.”

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  11. ”the probe went in a little further. Then a little more. Then a little more. Then a little more. Then it took a left. Then I started screaming. It felt for all the world like the tip of the damn thing was going to pop right out of my belly button.
    At a time like that, all a fella can do is scream.
    “TAKEITOUTAKEITOUTTAKEITOUTT…”
    “Hold steady, sir, we haven’t seen enough yet.”
    “YESYOUHAVEYESYOUHAVEYESYOUHAVETAKEITOUTTAKEITOUT!”
    The tip of the thing was squirming around way down deep inside me. I had never actually felt anything in there before. The sigmoidscope was working its will on me, like a “roto-rooter” or a toilet snake cleaning out the plumbing. I tried pumping my legs to see if I might actually be able to run away, but for some reason my legs wouldn’t move. I was pinned to the table like a butterfly to a display board.
    Then the torment ended. I felt the lengths of pipe being slowly and carefully withdrawn from my violated innards. Yet when the tip slipped out of my well-greased butthole I felt little relief. Instead I felt shame.
    I think that most men from time to time wonder how well they would stand up to torture. After this exam, I realized that I would have gladly given our country’s nuclear submarine secrets to this doctor were he simply to ask for them. So it’s a good thing that he didn’t ask and I don’t know any such secrets if he had because I’d have told him.”

    Didn’t he write the same rape fantasy at the daily kos?

    Asking for a fiend

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  12. Apparently he has a crap fixation…

    “So I went in to tell Pap of my problem. He was sitting there in the sitting room on his favorite plush chair. Pap had lots of friends back then, and two or three of them were sitting in the room with him and they were talking about some darn thing or another and one thing you knew, even at my early age, was that you didn’t interrupt Pap when he was discoursing with his friends.
    So I just stood there, shifting my weight from one foot to the other as the growing need in the pit of my belly got worse and worse. If the grown men even noticed me at all, I’m sure they thought that I was just a little squirt standing there listening in trying to get some wisdom from my elders. That impression, if it existed, was soon to change.
    I reached that point you are all familiar with when the poop restraint muscles can no longer be asked to hold back the wave of what must be done. With Pap and his two or three cronies looking on, I dropped my pants and uncurled a hefty poop log right there on the linoleum in front of them. I can still see it in my mind’s eye even now, decades later. It was studded with undigested corn. Needless to say, this caused a momentary lull in the conversation.”

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  13. This content from his previous works is absolutely disgusting.
    Who the hell thinks these type of thoughts?
    Who the hell thinks these type of thoughts are normal?
    Who the hell thinks these types of thoughts are normal and should be shared?
    Who the hell thinks these types of thoughts are normal and should be shared in book form with the world?

    We know Bill has not accomplished much in his life. His lack of education, intelligence and any social skills have been a problem his entire life. He has zero lifelong friends and every remaining family member has chosen to exclude him from their lives. Did Bill Schmalfeldt discover early in his life that the only interest or attention he could generate would be negative attention from his disgusting gay and fecal musings.

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  14. Good.

    Lord.

    Any time that fat fucking sludge pile ever claims to not be demented or screwed up or whatever… Those words would be all that is needed to blue a huge hole in that claim.

    Sick fuck.

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