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We will be moving Locations - I Think

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.


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The Literary Junkie

Original Material Copyrighted by Blue Skelton Productions 10 September 2004

DISCLAIMER This is a work of fiction. The events described in this work are fabricated and the author assumes no responsibility for the validity of the information. Blue Skelton does not own or claim any rights to the characters found in some of his Fan-Fiction

#Warning# This blog might not be suitable for people under the age of 18.
Please use your best judgement as to whether you want to read the material.

*Notice* You may contact the author at the following address

Blue Skelton is a veteran blogger and a master prankster. His antics have earned him a reputation for being unpredictable and a wide base of fans and friends. He is also an accomplished writer and aspiring film student. Welcome to one of the internet�s most popular blogs. We hope that you enjoy your stay as we push the limits of Hack Publishing. Thank you once more for your Patronage.
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Nov 15, 2007
Production Blog - My Final Resting Place

Here is my final, final resting place

I also need a two literary writers for a couple of ranked book blogs that I have.  If you would be interested in writing for one of them email me at

Posted at 09:01 pm by BlueSkelton
Comments (1)

Jul 24, 2007
Ok Nice

God bless the folks at blogdrive for fixing my blog. 

Posted at 02:25 pm by BlueSkelton
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May 23, 2007
My New Home

Ok everyone, Here is my new home until I get the real website set up.  I'll probably still post here from time to time as kind of a sneaky-secret blogdrive only posts.

If Blogdrive Tech support fixes my main editing screen I will be returning at some capacity to this blog.  I have quite a good Alexa page rank even after two years of inactivity and I would love to do something with this blog.  But the administration functions of this blog have been broken for six months now.

Posted at 01:32 pm by BlueSkelton
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Suck a Duck

Last night the Anaheim Ducks advanced to the Stanley Cup Finals, and it reminded me of an amusing story that occurred over the weekend.  We now have video of one of my best friends sucking off a duck.

After consuming a metric sh#t-ton of beer, my friend passed out on the couch.  He was out cold.  After this my other friends videotaped him in various compromising positions with an inflatable Duck.  As my friend hates the Anaheim Ducks, I thought that this would be a fitting segway to my Playoff coverage:

I can understand my friend’s hatred for the ducks.  There was a time in my life when I too hated everything that had anything to do with the Mighty Ducks.  Just hearing their name would be met with my scorn.  Jokes like: “Do they do the Flying Vee?” would emerge. I had a thousand of them back in the day.

The Disney Ducks were mediocre buffoons with absolutely no self-respect.  I didn’t complain when Disney made Time’s Square safe for children.  But making Hockey safe for children? I don’t think so. 

Unlike animation, football, or basketball, Hockey is a MAN’S sport.  Any pansy can toss an orange ball into a hoop but it takes a real man (or a Canadian) to play Hockey.  Hockey combines the grace and finesse of figure skating with the brutality of Ultimate Fighting.  And Disney, well they should stick to the ice-capades.

I do have to give Disney credit where credit is due.  Their films did get kids excited about hockey.

But the Ducks have come a long way since their Disney Days and it amazes me how strong they have become just by dropping the word Mighty from their name.  Well, they are formidable now.  They have transformed themselves into a band of hard-hitting ruffians, finesse defensemen, and fast-break scorers.  They are suited to play any style of hockey and that is what makes them so dangerous.

 As hard as it is for me to say this, I have great respect for the Redwing’s squad.  There is a lot of talent there.  But I really think that all that Star Power went to their heads and they didn’t realize that they needed to take it up a notch until it was too late.  It is all that star power that I think leads to the Redwings downfall every time.  They have never had to make do with what they have and just play harder.  This year was a bit different and I have to give credit to the Wings, they really put forth the effort.  They fought it out until the bitter end.  But I do think that they were a little surprised to be losing to the Ducks, and I don’t blame them.  It would be hard for me to deal with as well.

In closing, I would like to give a shout out to Chris Chelios in case he elects not to return for another year of Hockey.  I want to say, “Thanks for the memories.”

In another life, I was a Redwings fan. Back in the days of Vladimir Konstantinov #13 aka “The Vladinator” and the Russian Five.  Chelios skated with among some of these legendary men and He is truly one of the best to have set forth on the ice.  Good luck and God bless, Chris.  Now I am going to go watch that Suck a Duck video so until next time...leave a comment or something.

Posted at 12:53 pm by BlueSkelton
Comments (3)

May 15, 2007

Well I spoke to soon.  It looks like blogger will win the bloghosting contest for now.  But I will keep in touch with all my blogdrive friends and I ll probably post here too just for old times sake!  Take care of yourselves and I look forward to talking to you soon.

Posted at 12:08 pm by BlueSkelton
Comments (3)

Oct 19, 2006
dont worry

dont worry i'd never leave any of you guys high and dry. I wuv you guys

Posted at 09:43 pm by BlueSkelton
Comments (2)

Sep 4, 2006
R.I.P. Steve Irwin

I always knew it would end somehow like this for old Steve Irwin. But yet somehow that did erase the shock I felt when I heard of his passing. The first time I saw the man he was holding a spider that contained enough venom to kill a twelve ton elephant. If the spider were to have bitten him it would have killed him before he hit the ground.  I have related that story a thousand times and have enjoyed the years of antics which followed. But sadly for all his fans and his family, our time together has run out. Steve Irwin was killed yesterday when a stingray stung him through his heart. I find his death somehow appropriate to the way he lived but that does not take away my sadness. I feel like something good and wild has passed from the world. My condelences go out to the Irwin family. Rest in peace, Steve aka Crocodile hunter. I will leave you with but one word... Kreikies

Posted at 03:18 am by BlueSkelton
Comments (4)

Sep 2, 2006
Midnight Raiders

We regrouped just behind the retaining wall. Someone foolishly suggested we scale the wall but I had no desire to slice myself to ribbons in the razor wire. Shells began to land all around us, as we scurried for cover. We headed for some burned out rubble in front of the wall. This had become a dangerous excursion and the night was far from over.

The moon was full and the ground was bloody as hell. Everything was bloody here.

“Lock and load.” Sarge yelled. “We really pissed em off this time.”

As I dove into the remains of a bunker, I realized that we were trapped like rats. We were just a few kilos of explosives away from freedom. The Wasteland was just beyond the wall. But Explosives were just too hard to come by these days. We were fortunate enough to have a few homemade hand grenades, but hand grenades wouldn’t bring down a wall that was two feet thick. A layer of dust descended over us from the dirt that was kicked up by the artillery.

The age of concrete and steel was coming to an end, but there were still remnants of both scattered about. Bullets began spraying in around us. They were close, close enough for ground fire. I slid to the ground with my back against the rubble I was hiding behind. I raised my rife at a forty-five degree angle and chambered a round. The imminent battle had stolen my breath. Then I heard the footsteps on the gravel. I knew the order would come soon.

“Cut em down, Cut them down.”

I jumped up and aimed my rifle through the gap of the ruined bunker. Hordes of security forces were running through the gravel towards us. I hesitated no more. My finger depressed the trigger and I brought down a number of guards with shots to their head. There is nothing on this earth more gruesome than a man’s head exploding. My vision was filled with flying brains.

One last barrage of light artillery preceded the infantry. They had finally gotten their aim down and explosions rocked the debris field we were entrenched in. Terrible screams followed and I knew that some of my comrades were about to become history. My shooting was efficient but there were so many of them and my gun went dry. As soon as I ducked down to reload, bullets began streaming through the gap. I knew that I would not be able to put my head up again. I had to displace. Before I could chamber a round they had reached the bunker. I saw black metallic barrels jut themselves through the gap. Yellow fire erupted from their muzzles. As I cowered in the corner I did what they should have done I the first place. I pulled a pin from my last grenade and lobbed it out the gap at their feet. Blood rained down from the hole. That would be the last explosive, I would ever touch.

I ran out the back of the bunker and saw a hole in the wall. One of their artillery shells had miraculously crumbled a tiny portion of the wall. I ran so fast, it would have made a track star jealous. I left my pack. I had what we needed in my knapsack. Bullets began thudding against the ground around my feet. Just as the wall grew near a grenade landed just in front of the hole. It didn’t detonate immediately. It was going to be close. I dove through the hole and rolled down the small hill beyond as the device detonated. I was covered in dust but I was unharmed.

I had almost reached freedom. Security forces would not chase me into the Wasteland but they would not be afraid to fire bullets into it. I had to reach the forest that lay in front of me. Fortunately they would have to wait for the dust to settle to lay down any accurate fire. I made it about halfway to the tree line before the bullets started to fly. I was almost out of range but anyone can get lucky. Then fireballs burst from the forest and struck the opening. I glanced back and saw soldiers aflame as they fell through the hole. I surmised that a few members of my unit must have survived and made it through the hole before me. I changed my course slightly but still aimed for the trees. I dropped to my knees as I reached the forest. My burned out lungs struggled to take in air. Somehow I forced myself to position myself facing the wall and aim my gun towards the gap.

Nothing came through the gap and the fires smoldered into nothingness. I knew I only had a few seconds before I had move again. They would soon bring up their artillery and shell the forest. We had to get out of range before the whole edge of the forest was on fire. They wouldn’t hesitate to use incendiaries. The information I was carrying in my knapsack was worth risking retribution. The denizens of the compound knew that if they harmed the forest it would risk open war, but at this point it was inevitable anyways. Unless one of their agents somehow recovered the map inside my knapsack, they were finished anyways. The last remnants of the old world were about to come to an end. What the future held no one could foresee.

I rose to my feet and began making my way through the underbrush into the heart of the forest. I was not fearful of their agents. They did not know the ways of the forest as we did and everything in the forest was hostile to them. It would be a shot in the dark for them. But I knew I had a few hundred yards to cover before I was completely safe. I made sure not to head in a straight line. I could find a new path to the rally point after I was safe from shelling. Just as I had predicted, I heard the pops of shells exiting their canisters. Fire rained down from the sky but it was not yet close to me. The further I made it through the darkness the safer I felt. I hitched my rifle and placed my hand around my saber. Bullets were of no use out here. That was what the crumbling government failed to realize. Their troops were well trained. Hell, they were the last remnants of the great American Army. But the old Empires were almost gone. The world had changed and the men back at the complex had failed to evolve. Soon I would have to abandon my rifle altogether. I had only a half clip of rounds left before it became a worthless hunk of metal and wood.

The information in my knapsack contained a map that designated the location of the last ammo dump in the Wasteland. If we could destroy the dump before the government reached it, the old world would be completely swept away. Some of us thought that the weapons would further our cause and that we should use them to our advantage but most of us felt that it would just perpetuate the old world. We had our own methods and it was time to let the old world scatter in the wind. It was time to form new allegiances.

My bandanna felt like it was about to freeze around my face. For the first time since the battle, I realized that I was cold. I took off my bandanna and wiped the sweat off my face before placing it in my pocket. It felt nice not to be carrying any gear, but it would make for a cold night.

The forest began to wail and creak as fire ravaged its end. The wind picked up as the forest attempted to prevent the fires from spreading. It was a fell wind, an evil wind, and I knew that forces were gathering behind it. It reeked of battle, one last bloody affair to end it all. I caught a glimpse of the moon above the dense treetops and longed for a smoke. But my sticks were back in my pack. In that one area the guards had scored one minor victory. Oh well I hoped they enjoyed burning my smokes.

The forest was a scary place. It was full of things that I am not sure I even believe in. And now I had to walk through it cold and covered in blood. I could barely remember a day without bloodshed and I longed for happier times.

I heard a snap of twigs to my left in the darkness and I dropped to my knees. My hand silently stroked the hilt of my saber. I did my best impression of a nightingale and waited for a response. It was our secret code but I really freakin’ sucked at bird calls. In the back of my mind I hoped that I was not attracting a predator with a taste for birds. But then I heard a familiar sound. I flicked my lighter twice to alert them of my position. The first rule of the forest was not to attract too much attention to yourself. It camouflaged our small band of revolutionaries but it was also full of old and dirty dealings. There were forces at work in there that were greater than all of us.

“Jesus fucking Christ that was insane.”

“Tell me about it. I just barely made it out of there.”

“Thank God for artillery.”

“Hah, I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“Shit, I didn’t think I would ever say it.”

“You got a smoke?” I asked

“No, I’m out. What happened to yours?”

“Confiscated by the fuckheads, How far to the camp?”

“Pretty far we were going to bunk down here tonight.” He responded

“Fuck its cold.”

Morning arrived and the darkness receded as the first rays of light penetrated the forest canopy. I shivered myself awake and stood carefully. I lifted my rifle and scanned the perimeter. After I was content that nothing was trying to attempt to move in on our position, I sat down and woke my buddies. The forest was a dichotomy of light and dark but the daytime was much less fearsome than the night. It was as if the woods were on an opposite sleeping schedule to our own. Everything was bastardized now.

Posted at 08:31 pm by BlueSkelton
Comments (1)

Aug 21, 2006
Life in the Badlands

As the flames turned into ash, the fire inside of my eyes raged. Mythological creatures danced in front of my vision and I slipped into another world. I have always longed for the bliss of enlightenment but the world I have entered is a place of sadness. This place is evil and I have brought my own demons. Magic has run astray in this place.  All I have to rely on is my old magic and my faith.


But I no longer practice the dark arts. In spite of it all, kindness and stealth have become my allies. And I can only hope that my lonely path will lead me to a better place. I hope that path leads to a giant poppy field so that I may live my life with the only love that has ever been good to me, however opiate induced it might be. I miss the delusional creature I so long to become. More than anything I want to transform from this flesh into legend. I want my mythology to rival those of Ancient Rome and China.


But for now I must live a life of pain. My fingers ache from too many tasks and my joints burn brightest of them all. I have a long walk in front of me and there is no hope that there is any reward waiting at the end of it all. Death may be my greatest reward. But it is not my time and this is not how I go.  The world I have created is too nice albeit lonely. But some of us were born to be lonely ghosts. I have always wanted to drift along someone’s side. But humans are unreliable and demons have been the only constant company I have ever known. I am determined however to conquer them all. I am not afraid.


And so I will continue to wander in this Bad Land dodging cruel evil men, and dark enchantresses.  My faith will endure and God willing I will find a better place. The time has come hero work. This is an occupation that I am not suited for but I must attempt it nonetheless.  I guess that most heroes were not prepared at the beginning journey. Who knows what I will find. Stranger things have happened. Maybe I will find the light at the end of the tunnel but just like Andy Dufresne I will have to crawl through a mile of shit to see my redemption on the other side.

Posted at 04:54 pm by BlueSkelton
Comments (4)

Mar 27, 2006
The Phantom of the Mine

Dear Victoria's Secret,

Recently, I lost my mind while in your store. First of all, I must mention that I work in a mine and that I don't receive a lot of human contact. I am thirty four years old and have never been on a date. When I was just a young miner, my face was mangled in a mine accident. To cope with my disfigurement, I began spending more and more time underground.

But in a fit of loneliness, I decided to go to the local mall to reacquaint myself with the outside world.  It was there that I saw your store and everything went horribly wrong. I had never seen anything like your store before. I made the worst mistake of my life when I went inside. As I found myself surrounded by lace and leather, I realized that I could not stop thinking about my mother.

I was so over stimulated that I could not think clearly. The next thing you know, I was stuffing every piece of underwear that I could find into my pockets. My foreman found me in the mine later that day in a pink negligee.

Ever since then my coworkers have not looked at me the same. I am not sure that I will be able to survive the humiliation. But I also do not think that I can abandon this newfound thrill. And since this whole situation is mostly your fault, I should get at least a fifty percent discount at your store. At the very least you should give me some underwear, preferably used.


Marge Henderson

PS. I am keeping the pink negligee.


Posted at 08:39 pm by BlueSkelton
Comments (4)

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