Poorly Written Letters to Famous People

I heard about this website you can go to and get a free 7 day trial to a database with just about every  famous person you can think of. I signed up and got tons of addresses off it (most of which i think are wrong) and then I unsubscribed. I was then sent an e-mail that it would take more then 7 days to process, so I ended having to pay for a full month. Either way i got a bunch of addresses, and i wrote some letters, but I forgot to send them out or something. I don't know, but here a bunch of dated crappy letters I never sent. Maybe some famous dude will read these and send me an autographed picture.

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Letter #1

Dear #1

            Hello, my name is Nick Vandermolen hott student at Michigan State University. Over my winter break, I watched my first episode of Deal or No Deal. For months afterward I though only of you. Don’t worry, I let no dirty thought into my mind, only the images of us living a beautiful and sexy future together.

BooM! I can’t keep it in anymore. You be bangn’!

            I thought of a future without you and it sucked. Holding your warm hand, feeling the soft nape of your neck, breathing in the moist cloud of scent from your mouth; these are the things I can’t live without. 

            I truly believe in our future together. We can make this work. I know we can.

            Here, let’s start out slow. How about we meet up and go on a date to Taco Bell. I’ll pay, it can be casual, and afterwards we can go back to my apartment, watch a sweet ninja movie or romantic combady, and then I’ll walk you home. No mess, no fuss.

            Start off slow, E-mail me. My e-mail is nick.vandermolen@gmail.com. If you want call me, 989-255-5452. This is no joke, Let’s get together, if it doesn’t work, it don’t work.

At least E-mail.

Oh hey, my address is:

Nick Vandermolen

1300 E. Grand River, Apt #15

East Lansing, MI

48823

I miss you already,

Nick Vandermolen

Search my name on Google images to see if I’m legit. I am.

LETTER #2

Dear Bam Margera,

            I don’t know what it is about you, but I like it. Out of all those Jackass guys, I would say you are the most legit. I feel that you are different, and I like it. Thank you for being totally crazy, totally ballzy, but not totally gay. In some way you inspire me to know that I can do anything I put my mind to. I love how you just do it; do whatever needs to be done. Congratulations on getting married. What was you stance on sex before marriage? Do you save it for marriage?

            Right now I am working on a movie, it scares the shit out of me. It’s called, “Gay for a Summer.” We have major progress in it; we are slated to shoot this June. In someway I’m afraid that I am ruining the lives of the 20 plus people helping out in the movie. I’m scared that we won’t get the money, or that it will totally suck. Hey, if you know anyone that wants to invest in some ballz-ass movie, tell me. I’ll meet them in real life. I have a completed presentation kit. Either way send me some pictures of you butt if you could. Or at least a photocopy of them.

Thanks.

I’m not gay,

Vandermolen 

LETTER #3

Dear XXXXXXXXXXX, (rather not say)

            Hey man, how are you doing in A-town ? Are you holding it down like I know you are ? What’re you up to these days ? I saw you in some group photo that’s black and white and it looked like some hot movie set or something. Incidentally, that’s kind of what I’m writing you about. I’ve been keeping really busy with art projects of varying levels of difficulty, such as two fashion shows and writing books and stuff. Things have been rocking well for me, and sometimes I get in the paper cause of all of it. It’s pretty much sweet.

            The reason I am writing you is because I am producing a movie and need your help. Rick Boven (do you remember Tina Boven at the high school ? It’s her son…) and I wrote a film entitled “Gay For A Summer” for our film production company Knock Knock Albino and over the last year and a half we have focused all our energy to make this film a reality. “GFAS” uniquely combines the kind of abstract humor that took off in movies like ‘Napolean Dynamite’ and ‘The Royal Tenenbaums,’ with sensibilities of movies more in the vein of ‘Garden State.’ It’s really a healthy combination of the two; neither a ‘gay-bash’ film, nor a ‘pro-gay’ rallying cry. It’s just plain good comedy. Thus far we have accumulated nearly $5,500 worth of equipment, and spent hundreds more on project development. We have bands such as Mason Proper and Anathallo who regularly receive coverage in magazines such as Rolling Stone, Spin, and Filter as well as air time on MTV providing our soundtrack. We have a complete crew, all the equipment, and essentially the latest up and coming artists contributing to the latest up and coming film. The bad news?  We have exhausted all of our funds for the production phase of this film and need $6,000 dollars for raw film costs and food for our cast and crew during our shoot. Without this money we will not be able to continue the journey we set upon nearly two years ago.

            That’s where (hopefully) you can help us. We have worked hard on this project, invested thousands of our own dollars, and are not looking merely for a hand-out. We are looking for an investment in a film that is unlike anything on the market; a film that could open a lot of people’s eyes about their own prejudices, and help them to laugh at these prejudices in the same instant. In return for your investment you receive an executive producer credit and if, as planned, this film garners a distribution deal your money would be almost instantly repaid. With all the things we have going for us currently, distribution is a strong possibility.

            We appreciate your thoughts on this matter greatly, and don’t expect an immediate answer. Enclosed, you’ll find a packet of information regarding the film as well as a budgetary break down and a test scene. We understand the risk involved better than most, and would just ask you to consider it and give us the possibility to meet with you in person. I’m sure you’ll see that this is an exciting film and we’d love to have you be a part of it all. Regardless, let’s just get some Hunan sometime.

            Your blast from the past,

 

            Nicholas A. Vandermolen

            (989) 255-5452

            knockknockalbino@gmail.com

            www.gayforasummer.com

LETTER #4

Dear Quentin Tarantino,

            I want to see Grindhouse right now. A lot of my friends say that the movie will be sweet, but not good. That’s what makes movies good I say. A movie is not made on acting, or story, put those unforgettable scenes that seer our consciousness, the moments that make us blow our junk out. Thanks for making movies that aren’t totally gay.

            Hey, do you like the director Godfrey Ho? He’s one of my favorite. “Full Metal Ninja,” changed my life. He made 18 movies in 1987; his work ethic helps me know that I can achieve more. His huge balls in conjunction with your mother sac make me no that I can do whatever the hell I want to. Included are some balls poems I read in my poetry class. One teacher essentially told me to quit writing after this. Maybe he’s right. Fuck’em.

            Here’s the deal, I working on this risky new movie, it’s called “Gay for a Summer.” It’s a film, none of this second rate digital shit. Anyways, we still need $5000 for enough film to finish. This movie is going to be huge, if you know of anyone that wants to invest in these sorts of things, e-mail me at nick.vandermolen@gmail.com. Also, if have any advice, let me know. We have a completed presentation kit, everything is all set to go, and if no one invests well, than I’m screwed in terms of money, but damn it, I’m making this movie, because shit, what else is there to do. I’ve written a book, had two fashion shows, even had a dance party sponsored by Pepsi, I can do this. If you want a copy of my Transformation fashion show send me an e-mail.

Later,

Nick Vandemolen

LETTER #5

Dear Rasheed Wallace,

            You have some mad skillz on the court. A few years ago there was an awesome commercial where you explained your tattoos. That was an awesome commercial. Have you gotten any new tattoo’s? Thanks for representing D-town. You be fo’ real on the court. I love your slams, and your jams.

            I just wanted to say great job out there. Can you send me an autographed picture or a personal rap to me, Nick Vandermolen.

            Also, if you are interested in investing in my movie “Gay for a Summer,” of you know someone who is, please e-mail me at nick.vandermolen@gmail.com

Please continue bringin’ it on and off the court.

Your bro,

Nick Vandermolen

LETTER #6

Dear Robert Rodriguez,

            Thank you for being such a baller. I love the way you are willing to write and film some of the most prolific and original concepts ever though of. Your willingness to put yourself out there and just do it no matter what the consequences has very much inspired me. I am working on a new movie called, “Gay for a Summer.” I’m often so scared that we won’t have enough money, or that it won’t be good, or that the acting will suck. Sometimes I get scared, very scared. I have worked on many projects before, I have written a book, had two fashion shows, even had a dance party sponsored by Pepsi, so I’m used to putting my self out there and just doing it. But this movie, I have never experienced anything like it. I can hardly function sometimes. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat and I’m afraid that I am ruining the lives of twenty plus people. No matter what happens, filming starts this June.

            Please write me to encourage me, help me to be strong. Also, if you know of any one that wants to invest in my film, please send me some information. I have a completed presentation kit, and I am willing to go anywhere and meet anyone. I am baller shit.

            If you want a copy of my transformation fashion show DVD e-mail me at Nick.vandermolen@gmail.com. I’m more than a scared little boy; I’m your fucking father.

Heart,

Vandermolen

P.S. Enclosed is some of my poetry.

LETTER #7

Dear Shawn Michaels,

            I just have to say, you got screwed over at Wrestlemania 23. I used to like Cena, but he has had the belt for too long. He’s starting to piss me off. You practically made the company, oh well; hopefully you’ll get it when the time is right. I have to say, about 10 of us get together every Monday to watch RAW, we watch it shirtless. It’s awesome. Could you send me a sweet autographed picture? I would love to show it to all my wrestling buddies.   

            I’m a Christian. What is it like being a Christian backstage? Is it hard, do you get to go to Church? Are their Bible studies backstage? Remember the love of Christ Jesus in all you do. What do you think about hardcore and deathmatch wrestling like the CZW promotions and wrestlers like Necro Butcher? I have one more question. I’m a creative writing major, how can one become a wrestling writer. I’m very interested in pursuing that as a career.

            Thanks for putting your body on the line for me. Thank you. Hope you get the belt soon, you deserve it.

WWE Fan,

Nick Vandermolen

Bird Poop

I have no idea what this is from, but i found it on my computer. Here ya' go.

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Bird poop

            The color was mostly white, made me wonder why. I’m so used to having poop being the colors of brown, black, and the occasional green. But why white, I figured it was a dietary issue. My friend recently told me if you drink pina coltas all day your poop turns white. I want to try it but I don’t really want to get wasted though.

            The poop was in the middle of a heavily trafficked side-walk. As people walked with great speed to classes or back home, the bird poop seemed to stealth fully avoid all the crushing foot steps. It seemed to dart back and forth. Yet, it stood still, and nether moved, nor was it even alive. Only time can tell how long it lasted.

“To the birds I tell” –Red Hot Chili Peppers “Scar Tissue”

            I think about the image of a devil and an angel sitting on your shoulder. Talking to them, discerning what is the best answer to a given situation. Sometimes I wish a bird would fly down and take their spot. Me and my familiar. He would be a neutral ally and he would no doubt help me discern the truth and what was best for me. Yet, I hope he wouldn’t use me like a statue and put poop all over my shirt 

1000 page story

One time me and Jason Polan decided to write a 1000 page story that we alternated every ten pages, and we didn't tell each other what the plot was. I wrote 4 single spaced pages, sent it to him in an e-mail and we never talked about it again. Here it is.

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Chapter 1:

Peter, on the bus.

8/24/98

 

            Peter sat at the edge his front porch, it was cement. In the cement porch there was a small crack, when it rained it filled with water. When the water froze for the winter the water turned to ice, it expanded, and the expanding ice broke the front porch even more. For the past seven years he has watched the crack in the steps grow larger and larger. It wasn’t until 3 month earlier that he knew how why the crack grew each year. It wasn’t until 3 months earlier that he didn’t have a dad.

            Peter sat on the steps waiting for the bus. He poked the crack with a small twig; ants crawled out the crack on to the twig, he watched the ants fall and get sucked in to the crack. He wondered where they went. As he stared at the crack he wondered it the kids on the bus will think he is poor, because of the crack in is front porch. He thought the steps looked pretty low class, like he was a slum lord or something. His house was pretty nice despite the minor crack; it has a nice garden in front his mom planted. Some flowers were dead though, there was a fungus in the soil. Last year a guy tried to sell their family some fertilizer to kill the fungus. His dad refused the service and instead peed in a cup of bleach and poured in on the flowers, it surprisingly worked well against the fungus. Peter guessed his mom didn’t follow in his father’s path because if she peed in cup she would probably get pee on her hands. Girls pee different he thought.

            Peter thought a lot about his dad lately, not many kids start their fifth grade year without a dad. A lot of kids have two dads, but not many only have one. Peter sort of wished he had two dads sometimes, but he likes having a mom to.

            Peter dangled the stick as he waited for the bus. He was happy to start school again. The summer was pretty much a bore fest for Peter. He got to play video games, but he didn’t get to go fishing. He got to wear tang-tops, but he didn’t get to walk around pant-less. It was a summer of give and takes. He was happy to be wearing shorts today. It was warm enough to wear fashionable green shorts. There was a gecko surfing on the bottom of the shorts, he assumed surfing geckos are really in this season, the fifth graders would probably beg to differ. Peter didn’t really care what the older kids thought about him though. He knew that they would get older, and get Alzheimer’s way before he would. It is the very nature of being older.

            His shorts were bunched near his groin. At the right angle someone power- walking on the street could probably see his underwear from the street. He was too young for boxers, so his penis was not visible; the red power ranger that cupped his dinger was visible though.

            After what seemed like an eternity the bus finally arrived. His mom wasn’t awake to kiss him good bye, so he walked to the bus alone. He was a little sad, she would usually kiss him before he left for school, he liked kissing his mom. The sadness lasted only a brief moment because he saw his favorite bus drive, Mrs. Whytoshek. When Peter was in second grade the bus drivers name was Mrs Dibbsey but because Peter’s two front teeth were missing he called her Mrs. Tippsey. He was young, and he couldn’t help it. After two months of calling her Mrs. Tippsey, Mrs. Dibbsey got super pissed and made Peter sit in the front of the bus.

            For about a week Peter played it cool and thought nothing of it. But after a week of sitting in the front, Peter got mad, he liked sitting near the back so he could sit over the wheel well, he liked that seat because it made him feel like a ‘big kid,’ also the kids in the back seat talked about Dr. Dre. Peter liked it because it reminded him of Dr. Pepper. It was his favorite cola. He told his dad about how he had to sit the front everyday, and his dad got pretty angry. Peter didn’t understand. He called up the bus garage and demanded to talk to the one in charge. Peter’s dad talked sternly to the garage owner. Peter watched his neck vein bulged as he screamed about age discrimination. Peter knew the neck vein burst out of love. When the bus garage owner finally went to talk to Mrs. Dibbsey she found her in the back seat of her bus making out and getting ‘tipsy’ with a minor. What made it even more embarrassing was that the under aged boy Mrs. Dibbsey was really making out with was actually a girl. Mrs. Dibbsey, not being a lesbo, really was disgusted with her self after that. She quit her job after that and Mrs. Whytoshek took her spot.

            The minor she was makin’ it with was Jillian Veinhorn. She goes by Jim in the 4^th through 8^th grade circles. She doesn’t like her budding breasts and her newly hairy vagina, so she puts socks in her underwear and tapes down her supple pre teen breasts down with electrical tape. She still rides on the bus.  She usually sits with her boy-toy Robert, fifth graders suspect he may be a transsexual.

            Peter smiled when he saw his friend Jackson riding the bus. Jackson was black and he always thought it was cool to be friends with a rapper. Jackson was adopted and had white parents. He had never rapped in his life. Peter fell into the common misnomer that all black people can rap. He was young; he did not learn this stereotype from his dad. He probably learned it from his racist dentist, Mr. Dempsey.

            “Jackson, how was your summer.”

            “It was pretty cool; my brother taught me how to skateboard. I can do flips and stuff. What did you do over summer?”

            “I didn’t do very much; mostly I sat around a lot. I had a stupid baby sitter, she was really stupid. All she did was watch little house on the prairie and smoke cigarettes…oh! I saw her boob once.”

            “What, her boob! EEEWWWW!”

            “Yeah, it was pretty gross. She made me play outside, but playing outside it really stupid. I hate it out side. I just wanted to play Super Mario 3 but she wouldn’t let me. I got bored so I went inside and I saw her touching her booby.”

            “Why was she doing that?”

            “She was putting lotion or something on it.”

            The boys laughed about Peter’s old baby sitter, Melanie, and her breasts the rest of the bus ride. They talked about how ‘boobies’ are gross and that boys are better because they can take their shirts off. They also showed each other their nipples and Peter pretended to rub lotion on his nipples by rubbing spit on his nips. For a second their nipples touched.

            “Hey put your shirts on back their.” Mrs. Whytoshek yelled at the boys for lifting their shirt up. They put their shirts back on and laughed some more, it was like old times again, it was like fourth grade. Daisy was a little disappointed when Peter and Jackson put their shirts back down. She was sitting across from Peter and Jackson, but they didn’t notice her sexually gazing at their nipples. Daisy didn’t know why she couldn’t stop looking at their nipples, but she knew she liked it. She somehow knew she liked it more that there were two boys doing it at the same time. She put her face back up against the window when Mrs. Whytoshek yelled at the boys. She tried to go back to sleep like she did everyday last year, but she couldn’t fall sleep. She wondered if it was because she wasn’t used to sleeping on the bus again, or if it because she was so sexed up from seeing the boys skinny, shinny, slippery body. Daisy replayed the image of Peter and Jackson’s nipples rubbing and flicking off each other over and over the rest of the bus ride.

            The Bus arrived at Screeching Hawk Elementary School at 8:13am, perfect timing for the first day of school. Mrs. Whytoshek is always on time. Peter stared out the window at Screeching Hawk Elementary School, the only school ever built over an Indian burial graveyard. He starred at the school like he had never seen it before. The school seemed so different to him with out a father. Somehow the gray bricks of the school looked different. The windows didn’t seem to be in the same place, the grass wasn’t the right color, the flowers, trees, signs; everything was different, yet entirely familiar. For the first time he felt no comfort in the wall of Screeching Hawk Elementary School.

            “Come on man, we have to go to class, you can’t stay on the bus all day.” Jackson friendlily said.

            Peter sat in a daze staring at the school. His mouth hung low and his pupils dilated, he wasn’t in the bus anymore. He was in his mind, going through a file cabinet of memories. He thought about the time he peed his pants and his dad brought him a new pair of pants. He remembered the way his dad smiled even though Peter had dried urine on his crotch. He remembers his dads hug in the office, and his whispers of it’s ok, it happens sometimes. He remembered his face was rough and his untrimmed beard scratched his face. Even though Peter thought his face was bleeding he felt happy and loved in his fathers embrace.

            “Come on you douche, get off the bus.” Peter awoke from his daze with his face slammed against the bus window. Kyle was another fifth grader. He is a constant trouble. Last year he ate paste so he would puke at lunch. He knew if he ate paste he would puke, so during art class he put some paste in a little baggy he stole from his mom. She had a lot of baggies because she sells cocaine. At lunch he scooped a handful of paste into his burrito, and then he ate his burrito. A few minutes later he was puking in the hair of Ginny White. He loved her and hated her in the same breath. That day he hated her. She had to comb the puke out of her hair because it was mixed with paste and it was simply too thick to just wash out. People could smell the puke in her hair for days. Lately Kyle has loved her.

            “Hey man, that wasn’t nice.” Jackson stood up for his friend. “Come on man say you’re sorry, that was not cool.”

            Peter sat in his seat with a sad look on his face. He wondered if this is what he gets for not having a dad, beatings.

            “Fuck off!” Kyle shouted the obscenity in the face of Jackson. Jackson had never said that word, hard to say if he had ever even heard it, but in his very core, he knew that that was the most powerful word he had ever heard. It seemed to posses a power like he had never heard in a word. It’s as if the word came out of Kyle’s mouth with an invisible razor blade. Jackson stood in awe as Kyle walked away. The bus driver hadn’t seen a thing; she was eating a barbecue chicken ranch sub from Subway. It was new and she liked it.

            “Come on Peter, let’s go.” Jackson stuck out his hand to help his friend out of the seat. Jackson noticed Peter’s sudden look of sadness, but he said nothing. He assumed it was because of Kyle.

            “Thanks man.” Peter held the hand of his friend and pulled him self up. He felt happy again, like his age again. Jackson and Peter held hands as they walked off the bus.

            Daisy was still in the bus seat. She saw the entire interaction between Jackson, Peter, and Kyle. In the same zombified way Peter starred at the school, Daisy stared at the boys. She was in a daze not because she had forgotten memories of her father in her mind; she had unexplained images of boys, naked boys in her head. She couldn’t explain them, but the more she thought of naked wieners, bare chests, and smooth buttholes, the better she felt. This was the first time she had thought of all these foreign images. She walked off the bus to her first day of school as horny as a feral cat. She was only 9 years old.

            Peter let go of Jackson’s hand as he walked into the front door of Screeching Hawk Elementary School. It was the first day of school and he had been in this same spot 4 times before; looking at a known school, wondering about the unknown future, the first day of school ahead of him. This time though, he was here with out a father. For the first time, he felt alone. 

Biblical Measurement System (BMS) Pamphlet

This pamphlet was made for a protest Lombardo Barnyard did at the Capital Building of Michigan. Hard to remember, but after a failed attempt, this we passed about at least one, i think.

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If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.

1 Peter 4:11 (NIV)

The Bible tells us that we should glorify God though all things. Even through something as simple and commonplace as measurement God can and should be glorified. Therefore, Lombardo Barnyard has devised a system of measurements of distance, weight, area, volume, and time to help us to keep God in all that we do.

The Biblical Measurement System focuses on the only Truth we as followers of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior have: the Bible. By using the standard NIV[1] Bible published by Zondervan (pictured on the front of this pamphlet) as our principle physical measurement benchmark, anything can be measured.

It is important to understand that this physical earth can be measured using the physical Bible, but the actual value of the Word of God is as immeasurable as God Himself.

Distance 

The measure of distance will no longer rely on standard or metric (man-made) systems and units.

The standard unit of Biblical Measurement is called the Bible, which represents the distance from the bottom edge of the cover to the top edge.

The next smaller unit of measuring distance is called the Depth, referring to the depth of all pages within the Bible, including the front and rear covers. A Depth is the distance from one side of the spine of the Bible to the other.

The smallest unit of distance in the Biblical Measurement System is the Chapter, Verse. This term symbolizes the thickness of pages within the Bible, starting in Genesis and going through Revelation.[1] One uses Chapter, Verse by starting with Genesis 1 and adding additional pages, in order, as necessary.

 For example, the thickness of a credit card is measured by looking at how many combined pages of the Bible are equally as thick as the credit card. It turns out that a credit card’s thickness is equivalent to the number of pages between Genesis 1 and Genesis 31:4.  Therefore, a credit card is Genesis 31:4 thick. A 30 gigabyte iPod is exactly 1 Chronicles 8:25 thick.

 To combine the three units of distance (Bibles, Depths, and Chapters, Verses) in order to measure something that is not exactly one Bible or one Depth long, but is longer than Revelation 22: 21, the following system may be used:

 Number of Bibles, Number of Depths; Chapter, Verse

 If something was 4 Bibles, 2 Depths, and 1 Timothy 1:3 long, it would be written as such:

 4, 2; 1 Timothy 1:3

 This would be read: “Four Bibles, two Depths, First Timothy One: Three long.” 

The distance from Alpena, MI to East Lansing, MI is 1,683,587, 3; 2 Kings 9:1.

 Weight/Mass

 The standard unit of measurement of weight or mass for the Biblical Measurement System is the Bible. One Bible is directly proportional to how much one Bible weighs. This can be broken down further, similar to the Chapter, Verse distance measurement, only in terms of how much the pages weigh, instead of how thick they are. This unit is also referred to as Chapter, Verse. The notation for weight measurements is the same as that for distance, only without Depths.

 For example, a 2-liter of Dr. Thunder weighs 2 Bibles, Job 3:8 (2, Job: 3:8), while the popular Arnold Schwarzenegger documentary Pumping Iron on DVD weighs only Judges 5:29.

 Area

Area can be measured by using Bibles x Bibles, or Bibles². Atmospheric pressure can be measured using Bibles per Bibles².

Volume

 Volume is measured according to the amount of liquid (red wine) displaced by one Bible. This amount of displaced liquid equals one Bible. Chapter, Verse is also used for measuring volume, according to how much the pages displace.

 One can of Jumex™ contains about James 4:2 of liquid. Unleaded gasoline costs approximately 30¢ per Bible.

Time

The 24-hour system of time in which we currently live has become obsolete and, at times, forgets to honor our Father. Current time measurements focus on mean solar time. We worship the Son, not the sun. The Biblical Measurement System measures time using a unit called the Bible. One Bible equals the time it takes to completely read through the entire Bible.

To keep track of time, all clocks or watches will constantly be reading through the Bible. They will display which verse is being read, and from that one will be able to discern which book and chapter that verse is from, and subsequently what time it is. At the end of each Bible the clock will automatically go back to the beginning (Genesis) and begin reading again.

Days, which will now be called Bibles, will be divided into the 66 books of the Bible. Each Bible will be longer than a day, but bodies will certainly adjust. This system of time will also eliminate unnecessary time zones and daylight savings time.

Time is read by saying the book, chapter, and verse displayed on one’s clock. By recognizing the passage being read, one will be able to determine when to eat, when to sleep, etc.

When one sees “and ugly and painful sores broke out on the people who had the mark of the beast and worshiped his image,” one will know that it’s Revelation 16:2 and it’s time to get ready for bed. When one’s alarm clock goes off reading aloud “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth,” one will know that a new Bible has begun, and it’s time to get up.

[1] New International Version

[1]Note: Chapter, Verse does not include any pages before Genesis (publishing information, prefaces, alphabetical lists, etc.) nor does it include any pages after the end of Revelation (any maps or tables of weights and measures).

Lombardo Barnyard Magazine Cover

In 2006 while I was printing off hundreds of pages for free at Central Michigan University's computer lab, Jarmo was making these magazine covers. Sadly, as of May 2009, the Lombardo Barnyard magazine has yet to come to fruition. I cross my fingers though.

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Biblical Measurement System (BMS)

For a while Lombardo Barnyard was pushing for the Biblical Measurement System to replace the American Standard Unit of Measurement. Confused? Read what we wrote.

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THE BIBLICAL MEASUREMENT SYSTEM

The Bible: God’s own word. It is the only thing we need, the only thing our souls truly crave. Then why, as free Americans, do we force secular Real World Constructs on our already tortured souls? Why do we still use such Arcane methods of measurement, isn’t it time we got rid of conventional units of measurement.

We try to live our lives for God. In everything we do, we try to praise God. Therefore, should we not attempt to give glory to God in something as trivial as measuring things?

For too long has God been left out of the measurement system. Now it is time to put God back into something he created, measurement. To do this, in our attempt to do everything for God, we have decided to make the Biblical Measurement System.

The Biblical Measurement System measures not only distance but it measures mass, time, temperature, volume, and other things that are measurable but not yet conceivable. All of our measurement needs can be satisfied through this system, which has, after preliminary testing, proved to be far more efficient and useful than modern and postmodern methods of contemporary measurement.

The units of measurement are based solely upon the Bible, particularly the standard red NIV Bible found in the pews of Immanuel Lutheran Church. This base unit puts the most Holy of books in this world into a major aspect of our life. This helps us to put God at the forefront of our lives, and allows us to compare the measurable aspects of our lives to the immeasurable aspects of God. 

In the coming months Lombardo Barnyard will be contacting our Michigan congressmen and government officials including Jennifer Granholm. We aim to reach the minds and souls of these influential individuals in order that they might help change this secular Real World construct. For too long has the political-republo-demo-demonspawn, the American Government, has been holding back the ideals of God from measuring His own creation. It’s time we take action, pass some legislation, and stop this governmental religious persecution.

 

Kill the basement handout

For those of you aware of the Lombardo Barnyard story, you may remember the Kill the Basement event. It was a hard time for us all. Here is what the handout for the event said.

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(page 1)

In Loving Memory of

The Basement

We will remember you always.

The hands of the witnesses must be the first in putting him to death, and then the hands of all the people. You must purge the evil from among you.

Deuteronomy 17:7

 

(page 2)

SHAPING:

         Without the Basement I doubt I would be who I am today. Since the beginning of the Basement I have never been alone. Life 

has always been one big party, not a boozing orgy of manifest destiny and divine right, but a happy gathering of heart and soul. From the moment I said the Basement was “always open,” the doors became a conveyer belt of new faces and revolving emotion. Hundreds have been here; it has been through these gathering, these reconnecting of lost spirits, that the world has been changed.

         Look around, look at yourself, why are you, you? 

How has the Basement affected you? Did laugh, for the first time? Did you meet a love here? Did you release yourself of secrets you couldn’t even tell God? Was your soul touched? To some this place is just a room, to others this place, this cinderblock basement is the most holy of holies, the place only the High Priest can go, the place only entered once a year, the place where God dwells.

         This simple basement has cemented the ideals of Alpena, a new idea of a utopian society. It was through the Basement that people were able to craft, harness, and transmit this utopian view of society. The Basement has been the citadel from which the very idea of Alpenan utopia has grown.   

The Basement has changed us all, whether you know it or not.

(page 3)

SKIMMING:

         It is time to wipe our hands of the sins of the past. To long have we wallowed in our past and it is now time to look to the future. For our entire lives, our eternity, we have been anchored down by a fundamental misconception, an idea grown out of our very being. There is a need in all of 

us for contact, friendship, and touch. The Basement, this universal hangout, has changed our hearts and minds. It has fundamentally shifted reality as we know it.

         Looking back on its beginning I look at the heart of its creator: a Sinner, a boy who wanted friends, a malcontent, someone who chose people over God. From the heart of a sinner came a project, a place, a room in which even the dead can live.

         I look at what I did, and I wonder. When people were down, when people were hurt, mentally, emotionally, when one needed someone, anyone, the basement was there. The basement was a tangible manif

estation of a new life, it brought new life. Yet, I still wonder, without the basement, how things would be different. Would it be for the better? When we die, will your souls thank mine, or will they cry next to my beaten remains.

         It is time to scrape off our disease, remove our yoke, and forget our past; a new future is budding. No matter what our tears whisper, the death of the Basement is the beginning of another. Hopefully, the new

 basement isn’t the basement of Hell.

         Here, in a simple basement, a hole, a pit of disease, much has grown: life, utopia, and a social movement. Here, in a simple basement you will see death.

 

Nick Vandermolen

12/31/05

(page 4)

 

           Check These Out:

 Lombardo Barnyard’s new book…Coming soon.

“Lombardo Barnyard: Year One”

Michigan Mythos: Series Two

APRIL 2006

www.Anathallo.com 

www.Jasonpolan.com

www.Rickboven.com

E-mail Nick Vandermolen @

Nick.vandermolen@gmail.com

E-mail Lombardo Barnyard @

Lombardo.Barnyard@gmail.com

Vandermolen's Bio

Sweetest bio ever.

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Nicholas A. Vandermolen, uses the words gay, butthole and wiener when ever he wants. He is so cutting edge. Other people are buttholes.

The Evils of Modern Society: Cell Phones, abandoned project.

I don't even remember writing this but at some point i was against cell phones. Weird. Times used to be different, didn't they. I don't think it was finished but here it is.

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Cell phones, college campuses poisons gift to the gifted youngsters of many high students.

            Look around college campuses of today and you will see a disturbing trend. You will notice most of the people walking are on cell phones. Long gone are the days when people will walk to class and talk to another person. Long are the days when people would listen to there favorite band on there portable walk man. Welcome to the days when mechanic, brain damager and conversation devastates is I the pocket of 90 percent of people. Welcome to a world when a seven minute conversation is interrupted three times by a cell phone. Say hello to walking zombies, people who are disconnected from reality.

            Today every one from high class entripenewer to low class back woods tree people all are using one of the greatest technological advances in the form on communication in the last one hundred years. They are using cell phones. In the pockets and back packets of over 90 percent of this nations people is a ticking time bomb of fast talk and fake conversation. Almost everyone has one, how can it be bad, how can it be so harmful to this generations mental stability. It is. It is destroying this nations conversation and oration skills at an astounding rate. This is one of the main reasons why world are full of discontent and depression. Yet, it is never called out, no one points the finger at there cell phone, because then they would be pointing the finger at them selves.

            Ten years ago if you walked past a group of people walking some where they would most likely be talking to each other. Now a days they would al be talking. Not to each other though, they would all be talking on their own cell phone. Each babbling sub-consciously about nothing. There is no conversation here. There is no meaning in there words. There is only lonely ness. On a sub concise level they know they are lonely, why do they walk together, to feel like they are having a real conversation, to feel like they aren’t disconnected from reality. Using a cell phone can cause a true form of disconnection from reality; it’s about the only thing real about it.

            Many people argue that today’s modern world is to busy, we are to on the go, because of that we need cell phone so we can call re mates and friend for the road, and form the sidewalk. It may be true that people are on the go in the this fast paced work a-day world we call America, but is it true that you have to have meaningless conversations on a meaningless interface. People would argue that they call people on there cell because they care about them. Let us examine this statement. They call them because they care, but they do it in a meaningless and disrespectful manner. That’s like giving someone birthday cake, but when they bite into it, there crap inside. IF a person really cared to call them, they would set aside time for them, they would go into a dark room and call them, or even see them in person. Calling a person from your car on a cell phone says to a person they you remember them, but don’t care enough to use your precious time on them.

            The biggest evil of cell phones is there disconnection form reality phenomenon. This is a natural and fact of an unnatural devise. When people are on there cell phone they lose touch with everything around them, they stop hearing the outside world, they stop seeing there surroundings. When you see a college student walking to class talking on a cell phone, realize that at that moment they are not there, what you see is a zombie, an empty soulless vassal. One time I was with a friend at a hardware store. We asked an employee for help, he brought us to the location of are need part and as he was about to show us his cell phone rang. Like an autonomic conditioned response that could only have been taught by the devil, he stop mid sentence and whipped out his cell phone leaving us lost as to where to find the part. With in seconds he was disconnected from reality, he was lost in the fake, half hearted conversation. He was disconnected from reality. To test are hypostasis, my friend walks up to the man, and no more them a foot from his face he says, “I touch little boys.” The employee didn’t flinch, he didn’t stop, he didn’t notice. At that moment the cell phone had his soul. In my life I have seen this phenomenon many times. I have seen it happen in class, I have seen it happen during arguments, and I have seen everywhere. The phenomena of leaving life for a simple electronic beep.

            It interesting to see how people react to the metaphysical slap that is answering your phone when you’re in a conversation with someone else. Lets say two people are standing next to each other talking, both standing face to face. Suddenly a cell phone rings, the conversation instantly stops. The person with the phone begins to talk on the phone, what happens to the other person. The other person stands there, as if they were in line to talk to a king. The stand there face to face with the person who just shafted them and the person on the phone doesn’t even see the sad face of the person directly in front of them, because they are so disconnected from reality. They wait to finish there simple conversation, for what, an electron devise that emulates the voice of another. The person on the phone chose the cold, soulless mechanical conversation over a real flesh and blood. When the phone conversation is done they resume the conversation, but it’s hard to pick back up and the moment is gone. That cell phone call may have just broken an opening that was needed to start a friend ship.

            As you have read this you may see a paradox. On one had a conversation on a cell phone is empty and meaning less. But on the other hand a person on a cell phone is disconnected from reality; they are out side of this world, because they are so focused on the conversation. Now it is true that they left this world to focus on the conversation and it is true that a conversation on a cell phone is empty and meaning less. The reason is because a person on a cell phone is incapable of having a meaning full conversation, considering the circumstances. Now it is true the people on the phone are thing there hardest to make it meaning full but since it is impossible they still try hard to make it real. It is as if they are grabbing at the wind. It’s like seeing a ghost, you can almost see it, but you can’t touch it. This is the phenomena of a cell phone, you are so close so you try hard to make it real, but it can never be real, only empty and fake.

NOTES

AQUINUS – God made everything thus everything can be used for good. (look up)

Reclusive Genius

A letter i wrote to Michigan State University board of admissions when i was trying to transfer there from Central Michigan University.

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Nicholas A. Vander Molen

 “Reclusive Genius”

            In the last year and a half since finishing high school I have become more of a man then a child, I think I have grown a lot in the last year and a half. Since Finishing high school I have started my own business, held a fashion show in which my cloths were shown, joined a movement based art collective, and increased my writing skill by what I think is at least ten-fold.

            The business I started is no joke. We are a real and profitable business. The business was started this summer by Nick Jarmuzewski and my self. The name of the business is, “Lombardo Barnyard.” We have had it officially registered with the state and everything. We are the 7^th chakra; we are dedicated to quality et cetera. Last summer we held a dance party, the party was sponsored by Pepsi. Also, the fashion show I held was in conjunction with my business. As of now “Lombardo Barnyard” is developing merchandise which will hit the market in the first quarter of 2005.

            I have also held a fashion show since finishing high school. I held the “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle: Back to School Fashion Show,” earlier this year at Central Michigan University. Each segment of clothes I designed and created. They were based upon a different aspect of back to school life. The fashion show was a success; it was featured in CMlife, the local newspaper on campus. In the article I was called a reclusive genius.

            The fashion show I put on help arouse the creative talent with in many CMU artists. These CMU artists, with their newly discovered love for art, formed a movement based art collective called, Fonikks. I am a member of Fonikks. So far at Fonikks we have done a project that I came up with. The project was a choreographed ninjitsu battle that happened in very specific points around campus. The battle was once again featured in CMlife. Fonikks is now working on a creative dance piece. The piece should be performed in two to three weeks.

            I have also increased my writing skill by what seems like ten fold. Since leaving high school I have written a massive screenplay. I would have never though this possible when I was high school. In one of my classes this year I wrote a poem that changed the way my class is run. The poem was a critical look on the way the work-shopping process was run in class. I also recently wrote a 20 page story in 3 days. People think the story is incredible funny. I have written so many things since coming to college, some for school and some not. I have learned to love writing, and I hope to write many more things in the future.

            As you can see I have done some astounding things in the last year and a half. I have started a business, I have held my own fashion show, I have joined a movement based art collective, and I would say that my creative writing skills have increased by ten fold. I have done many more things that have changed the live of everyone around me. I feel like it is my time to move on from CMU and move to a larger campus where my art can be more appreciated. I hope to start school as a junior as a Spartan, at Michigan State University.

Another Bio

I think i had to send in a bio when i was transferring from Central Michigan University to Michigan State University. This bio might have gotten me accepted to MSU.

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VanderMolen’s Bio:

            Nicholas Vandermolen is probably the coolest person you will ever meet. He is co-owner of his own business, Lombardo Barnyard. He is also consistently participating in sweetness. Just over a month ago he put on a fashion show. The fashion show was covered in such publications as CM Life and The Alpena News. Once he had a dance party in his basement. It was quote, “Awesome.” Another time he was called a “reclusive genius.” This may or may not be true, what is known is that he is quite possibly the coolest person you will ever meet.

            In eighth grade he won the “America and Me Essay Contest,” at his school. He never made it to regionals. 

Illuminati's subliminal messages.

I don't know what this was for.

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The illuminati and the subliminal messages they use to flaunt there dominance.

Since the beginning of time the illuminati has been a scourge to this world. They have systematically been destroying all that is good in this world. They hide in many guises, the freemasons, the knights templar, and even the shriners. Many names, but one evil. The illuminati represent hell on earth, and the fall of man from within. They were prophesied by people like Nostradamus, and are even foretold in the Bible. They are here, they are now, and they are all around us. We have no form of escape.

            The illuminati are slowly tightening the noose we call existence. They do this in many ways. Things like the war in Iraq, the recent hurricanes on Florida and the recent election campaign are all parts of there plan of world domination. They are influencing are thoughts and are lives on so many levels. Even small things, things we take for granted, are illuminati born, and used for destruction.

            Take a look at a dollar bill. The American dollar bill is filled with illuminati symbols. Just look at the pyramid on the back. Ask yourself what this means. The only explanation you will able to conjure is that this is an illuminati symbol. Through the dollar bill the illuminati flaunt there dominance on us by brandishing every symbol they can think of. The eagle represents the phoenix that has been a symbol of illuminati since ancient Egypt. Even the number of feathers, arrows, stars, and olive branches all represent different aspects of the illuminati. Do your research, check the internet, see how the illuminati flaunt there dominance via the one dollar bill.

            The dollar bill is not the only way in which they push there dominance upon us. Simple everyday things like street lights are actually secret illuminati symbols used to subliminally show there dominance. The street light is a modern day invention that can be seen in just about every town. Most believe that they are used to prevent traffic accidents. The fact that this absurd excuse is used to show how traffic lights are useful is proof positive that the illuminati have penetrated even our inner most thoughts.

            Like the dollar bill, traffic lights are inundated with illuminati symbols. The red of the stop light represents the red dragon. The red dragon is the beast talked about in the book of revelation. The red dragon is a major symbol in the illumine, it is argued that if the red dragon were another color, let’s say orange; the illuminati would not have as many people in there organization. It is the color red, like blood, that makes the red dragon seem ferocious. 

            The yellow on the traffic light is not really a yellow at all; it’s supposed to be gold. At the time of the street lights conception, the technology was not around to make gold colored lights, so they compromised and made yellow lights instead. Although it’s yellow, it’s still meant to represent gold. Gold is very important to the illuminati, gold is divine, and it’s also is a source of wisdom for the illuminati. Only true illuminati know how to siphon the great wisdom from a piece gold. An illuminati secret that is sure to never be revealed.

            Little is known about the meaning of the green on traffic lights. Green is a very sacred color to illuminati; only high level illuminati truly understand its meaning. As I am not a high level illuminati, I do not know the true meaning behind the color green. Some have speculated that it has to do with plants and trees, but I don’t believe speculation, I only believe fact.

            When you look at the color scale Roy G. Biv, this scale obviously representing the colors of the rainbow, red, yellow, and green are the first, third, and fourth colors of the color scale. When you designate each color a number according to the aforementioned color scale the numbers 1, 3 and 4 come up. 134, there is deep meaning it this number. 13 is a very sacred number in the illuminati. The number13 can be found in a number of places around the world. The 13 represents the illuminati on its most metaphysical form. The 4 is another sacred number of the illuminati. 4 represent the number of beings in the quadune being that is Satan. Christians believe that God is made up of three parts, father, son, and Holy Spirit. The illuminati believe that Satan is made up of four parts, Satan, Lucifer, Red Dragon, and the devil. The number 134 it self represents an important number in the illuminati. 134 represents the Saros 134 lunar cycle. Many illuminati worship the moon and its mind altering powers, knowing the Saros 134 lunar cycle is important to understanding the mind-altering effects of the moons gravitational pull.

            The illuminati are everywhere. They are in our towns, they are in our neighborhoods, and they may even be in our family’s. They also come in many forms, freemason, knights templar, the shriners, and many more. I don’t know their entire plan, and I don’t know all there secrets. What I do know is that there are an evil group of people that are trying desperately to control us by any means possible. They have even stooped so low as to use traffic lights to display there dominance. I may never see an end to the illuminati, but I pray every day for there down fall.

 Authors notes:

I am Nicholas A VanderMolen. One time I was in CMLIFE for a sweet fashion show I held. It is entirely possible that I may be the sweetest person you may ever meet. After reading my true essay you may be saying to your self that this was too long. I don’t care. I needed to tell of my knowledge, it could save lives. I couldn’t put all of the information into the jail like confines of a two page paper, I needed to extend this work of art to a meager three pages. Disqualifying me would lead me to assume that you are a member of the illuminati. Don’t lead me to assume that you are a member of the illuminati. I am pretty cool, and I own a small business, ask me stuff by e-mailing me at, vande1na@cmich.edu. I reply quickly.   

                   Nicholas A. VanderMolen

 

 

Team Jack Hammer

Lombardo Barnyard

How to get nailed in college

This story popped into my end when i was crossing the street at Central Michigan University. When i thought of it, it was the best story idea i had ever had to that point.

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How to get nailed in college

Danny was the type of boy that made a lot of rash decisions. If you ever need someone to get naked or drink a random liquid, he was your man. Once he stole a car, on a dare, naked. He wasn’t the brightest guy.

            Danny had another problem, he loved the ladies. Well, not necessarily the ladies. As he put it he loved to “get laid.” The summer of 2002 he got gonorrhea three times. He gets around, and he doesn’t care. You can call him whatever you like, a pimp, a slut, a hoe, whatever, he doesn’t care, as long as he is getting ladies.

            Last summer though he did something none of us ever expected, he got a girlfriend. He hasn’t had a girlfriend since high school. Since college started he followed the hit it and quit it approach. Sex’em up then kick’em out. Asides from the causal penicillin shots; surprising, this never really caused a problem. Now he had a girlfriend? Now he had commitment? Now he had to talk? How would this last? Well, it didn’t. It turned out Jenna was only in town for the summer. Then after that she was going to school in Italy. Before she left for Italy, Jenna broke up with Danny. It was messy, it was bad, and it was hott. Luckily, Danny got back to his old routine pretty fast.

            That year I lived with Danny. We should have had a revolving door. There was a new girl every night. It was out of control. The joke is Danny still cared about Jenna. He wanted her back, now. I swear every other girl that came home with him was named Jenna, or Jen, or something like that. It was pretty sick. He totally wanted her back. Sometimes, he would just start talking about her. He would get all emo on me and whine about how he wished he was with her. It was horrible, between the whining and the banging I could never get any sleep. This happened all year.

            Summer came, and so did Danny, and eventually he moved on. By this time his wild sexcapades were slowing down. It was still rampant, but not by Danny standards.

            One day, Ryan, our friend from high school came to visit. When we were seniors in high school, he was a freshman. Now that he graduated he was going to come to our school. We wanted to show him a good time before he came in the fall. So we went out crusin’ for babes.

            Cruzin' for babes is pretty fun, we mostly just drive around and honk at girls. It’s a good time, but, this time wasn’t. You see, this night Danny saw someone quite unexpected. He saw her. He saw Jenna. We were at a stop light and directly across the street in her car was Jenna. She didn’t notice us; I think she was checking her make up or something. Danny pointed her out and hastily explained how this was his only chance. I didn’t really get what he was saying, then typical Danny style he did something stupid. The light turned green and without any warning he slammed head long into her car. I guess he thought that maybe he could talk to her that way, maybe get her number, well he was wrong. You see, the resulting crash was a five car pile up in which I suffered a broken arm, Danny got a concussion, Ryan got paralyzed and Jenna died.

            The next few weeks were horrible; I was incessantly questioned by the police. They were so perplexed about the situation, there was no alcohol, no motive, no real reason. I guess it was love. I went to Jenna’s funeral, I didn’t like her, but, she was dead. The saddest part about her funeral was the low attendance, for how easy she was, few people attended. Danny was in a horrible state, constantly crying, I later heard he tried suicide. Being Ryan was under eighteen at the time, and his parents were both attorneys, Danny got nailed pretty hard. He got sent to prison.

            Last week I visited him and he looked in rough shape. He had bruises on his body and I could see the dried tear stains on his face. While I was talking to him I heard two guys arguing over how much toilet wine Danny was worth. I think he was worth more then what they settled on. He told me how no one visits, not even his family. They’re all mad at him for what he did. They can’t believe his reasoning. Some say the true reason was because he was the only girl that took his heart. What ever the reason Jenna was dead, Ryan was paralyzed, and Danny was in really bad shape. Well, at least my arm healed.