The Loathsome Sir

We’ve had a few trolls from time to time, as does any blog, but in June 2011 we had two of the best. From LGF. With clever snark, it was one of the funniest troll threads on Diary of Daedalus, and it deserves a revisit.

We’ll not name names, but there was a back and forth tag team that produced some of the best spontaneous free-form prose we’ve seen. The duo who posted here made the erroneous assumption that the populace of Diary of Daedalus is an homogenous group, when in fact we have commenters with widely divergent political views, religious beliefs and nationalities.  We’re a hodgepodge melting bucket of all stripes, here only to mock Charles Johnson, and that transcends, um, stuff.

So the two trolls assumed that we’re all gun-totin’ conservative cowboys, and they rolled with it. The story that resulted was interspersed with asides, shown here in brackets [—]. We culled out the best of the thread and included some of the lead-up intro. We haven’t edited for grammar, caps or spelling, and we left the line breaks in, too. Grab a quart of Pabst, git yer spurs on, and saddle up, because THIS was a hoot.


[Already the Great Khan was leafing through his atlas, over the maps of the cities that menace in nightmares and maledictions: Enoch, Babylong, Yahooland, Butua, Brave New World
He said: “It is all useless, if the last landing place can only be the infernal city, and it is there that, in ever-narrowing circles, the current is drawing us.”
And Polo said: “The inferno of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here, the inferno where we live every day, that we form by being together. There are two ways to escape suffering it. The first is easy for many: accept the inferno and become such a part of it that you can no longer see it. The second is risky and demands constant vigilance and apprehension: seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of the inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space.”]

[what I would like is for them to attempt to refight the civil war now, now that their diet is made of butter and their mothers are made of ham]

[What to do when you’re embarassed of your dick? Buy a gun and correct spelling!]

[luxuriate amongst your history channel dvds in your tract home, of course

and wait to die like a brave bearded man

bravely bravely bearded]

[do you own a real ten gallon hat]

[Faulkner was a drunken sot.]

[do you own a lasso]

[Do’nt make fun of texans, they’ll threaten you with the m-60s they took home from the ‘nam.]

[i have it on good authority they totally know how to BBQ]

[I wonder what they all did with their LGF bikers jackets.]

[The Daily Kos Gnoll with platemail attacks you with a hemp dagger

do you attempt to parry using your totally manly LGF minion biker jacket

what do you do???]

[D&D is for nerds, this is more paintball and pretending to be Confederate Colonel territory.]

[Ever done the thing where you put on camo and pretend you’re all spec ops and using the hand signals to engage the enemy in a coordinated attack]

[yeah me neither]

[but seriously



[i’ll ask you, maybe you’re from texas]

[do you ever say rootin’ tootin’]

[Do you keep your personal Graveyard?]

[are you an “internet desperado”???]



They Called him The Loathsome Sir, because he was loathsome, and everyone called him sir

mostly, people called him sir because he threw machetes around a lot until people started calling him sir

well anyway, he came into this roadhouse, and the man behind the counter had a spider for a head

and the Loathsome Sir did his thing, and the man with a spider for a head, well it was the damnest thing

he’d just catch every machete hurled his way, sure as God made green apples, all calm like

stacked them in a neat pile until The Sir was fresh out, then he nodded to his wares, a bottle of rye, and a bottle of sheep’s guts.

‘Jesus. I’ll have the rye.”

“Coming right up, sir.” said the man with a spider for a head, somehow

And the Loathsome Sir smiled.

[how do you feel about “the alamo”]

[What exactly happens if you mess with Texas?]

[is it true that Chuck Norris is Sainted in El Paso]

[Fuck Chuck Norris. Overrated goon.]

[but he fought in the Pentagon]

[are you a ranch hand]

[do you have a truck with the ladies on the mudflaps]

[Do you worship St. Chuck?]

with a face made of rawhide and a horse made of gunmetal he looked out onto the horizon and he said this is Marlboro city

and then he smoked a cigarette made of a dead man’s shoe and he laughed

[do you wear spurs]

[have you ever loved a gun

i mean really loved it, the way a man loves a sandwich, or Ronald Reagan]

he saluted the morning sun as the cattlemen surrounded his one-horse shack, each of them carrying fifty guns apiece

split a piece of wood with his bare knuckles, ate his first born in one bite, and he grinned a toothless grin

this is the last time i trust a cactus, he thought, as he danced the six shooter dance

ever seen a man headbutt a steak? asked the bartender as the mysterious stranger walked in, stole another man’s shot, gulped it down, and chased it by eating the glass

no, and I never will, replied the Rawhide Heaver, and he calmly walked across the street and hurled the competing saloon at the first, cardplayers and all

Well the thunder from my steely fist made all the glasses jangle.
When I shot him, I was so handsome…

It was the light, it was the angle

I once saw a puerto-rican girlfriend scale a wall for a man’s jacket

not to have the jacket, per se, to eat the man alive wearing it, bones and all

see, the leather provided a rich seasoning, a cuisine only a discerning cannibal would become accustomed to, in their fashion

you wouldn’t think puerto rico a den of cannibalism, and you’d be right, the cannibals know no flag or country

[have I ever told you the story about The Loathsome Sir?]

[have I ever told you about the Star-Crossed Town of Destiny?]

[are those foes of the Loathsome Sir?]

[for my only master is the Loathsome Sir]

[Do you own pearl handled revolvers]

[have I ever told you the story about The rawhide Heaver?]

[also, do you call it sauce or gravy, where you’re from]

[do you call it pop or soda]

These men are all great lovers

much like the Rawhide Heaver is a great lover of throwing saloons

Once upon a time there was this guy

He had a .50 cal IMI desert eagle and a totally bitchin’ harley.

in his old nomad’s eyes, reflected the colors of America, and by colors I mean the red white and blue

he touched his sidearm, made sure it still hung like a sword at his side as he found the exit he knew he had to take

mostly lovers of throwing saloons, those what could lift a saloon

a lesser man, why they’d have to settle for heaving a bungalow

It was the desert, wide and open as the dreams of a young nation. He knew trouble was around the corner, and he was duty bound to find it.

he drove into Destiny

the town of Destiny, that is, population 2800

well, actually only 800 and some at the moment, what with the massive anglerfish on tanktreads eatin’ and rapin all the townsfolk

some had left, some were packin’ up, some were busy being chewed n swallowed

the man looked around at the carnage and wondered why you’d stick round a town like Destiny when a hollerin tin plated anglerfish the size of the ol’ one room school come around, why he ate old bob barton the mailman one bite

ate his wife too, but she was a whore

the man grunted, “Fish. I hate Fish.”

Someday he would find the madman, the bastard ‘scientist’ who thought he was so clever crossbreeding fish with Tanks.

The man, of course, didn’t trust scientists as it was, and this was just another nail in the coffin.

in this case, literally, as he pulled out his Nailgun.

this was the nailgun they should have finished the job with here in Destiny, for he had returned to Destiny to see his ma and pa buried

they weren’t dead though, they were just assholes

just as well, science had finished the job for him, he would have seen them buried alive but if it’s all the same to the thing out there, it’s all the same to him

scooped up his mother and father, all the gristle and chum and eyeballs and some assorted townsfolk parts, couldn’t be too careful who was what, though he was pretty sure ma Bessie didn’t have three halves of a jawbone

As he turned around, the mess of flesh in his hands, he saw suddenly the mayor of Destiny, and she had the drop on him.

“You never shoulda come back you sunuvabitch!” said the she said, as she lovingly fingered her silver inlaid H&H express.

Quick as lightning, he threw the assorted gore at her and dove for cover.


[i heard tell round these parts an American got a hot sauce aint no european can touch]

Ma bessie was a formidable foe, she stood 8’4″, weight 672 pounds, from parts unknown, with eyes of coal and a face to stare a hole through a Chinese man

Heavy boots of lead too, like the song says

The man who came to Destiny began to question his decision, as an errant blast from the elephant gun split the general store behind him in half lengthwise

he coaxed the ol hog to life and raced down a side street, flames spewing blue from the exhaust, where newly raped townsfolk were complaining of chafing

without lotion!

He soon stopped, facing down what had to be the largest metal fish he’d ever seen. It was Crusty Hammer! he turned to go the other way, but there was that hideous she-beast, his mother on the other side.

But the Man who came to Destiny was a man of Decision. He fired at the giant fish-crustacean- thing with one hand, while he gave his mother the finger with the other.

He might die this day, but he’d be fucked if he was gonna get raped.

The Man, this Man of Decision squinted at the turn of phrase.


It occurred to the Man Who Came To Destiny, that it wasn’t as poetic to be The Man Who Got The Fuck Out of Destiny, but he realized nobody would write his epitaph except his mother who was at this moment attempting to hasten the event, and at any rate it would probably read something like “He dead.”

So he kicked the old hog to life and drove away from Destiny, because Destiny sucked and who needs to fight a fish robot anyhow.

maybe he’d be The Man Who Came To Fresno instead.

THE END?!?!?!?!?!

104 Comments on “The Loathsome Sir”

  1. Voltaires Crack says:

    Classic stuff, indeed.

    Quite enjoyable reading it in a single pass, too, rather than a few lines at a time.

  2. Pakimon says:

    Oh Jeez.

    When our resident miner fodder sees this thread, he’s going to be insufferable. 😆

  3. Pig says:

    How on earth did I miss this? Now I gotta go find it. If you guys are pullin’ my leg……

  4. beed says:

    Poultry in motion.

  5. Claytonia Sibirica says:

    sending this to a certain someone, trying to get him to post on here, but he’s being a pussy.

    But maybe this’ll push ’em over the edge!

  6. But, they will always move the edge.

  7. Pig says:

    Ya know…….lookin’ at that picture……them old-time-cowboys were sorta “into” the furry thing, weren’t they?

  8. garycooper says:

    It’s okay, but it’s no “Naked Lunch.” I had to read and write a paper on that Burroughs classic in college, and omfg. 😆

    He invented “cut-and-paste” literature, long before computers and word processors made it a simple process. He actually cut and pasted words, phrases and sentences, and reassembled them into whatever that legendary hot mess represents. I’ve never tried to write a book while going through heroin withdrawal, so maybe I’m not fully qualified to judge the man’s work.

    Excuse me, but I think I hear my wife barking about something downstairs, with her six dog-heads and arms that look and function like two Damascus-steel, razor-sharp katanas. She’s going through menopause, so you must pay heed when she’s ululating. I think she wants me to go grocery shopping or some shit.

    • rightymouse says:

      Gary….a word of advice….
      When a woman going through menopause barks, it is best to heed her.
      One time when I was suffering from night sweats, my polar bear hubby rolled over to grasp me against his steamy body & I yelled ‘GET OFF OF ME CAN’T YOU SEE I’M SWEATING HERE?”. He replied, “OMFG, am I going to have to put up with this crap for another 5 years?”. You really don’t want to know my response, but since we’re stil married, it worked. :mrgreen:

      • garycooper says:

        I’m hip to the hormones, baby. She was “different” when she was late-term preggers, and after the deliveries…whoah. Between the lack of REM-sleep and the hormones, I’m lucky to be alive today. And still happily married. 🙂

        The dog and I know when it’s best to lay low, and do as we’re told. My wife is a sweetheart, actually. She complains about feeling cranky and hot during the flashes, but then she just carries on with stuff. She takes after her Mom, who was a saint, constantly taking care of everyone else.

      • rsjsteel says:

        {rightymouse} 😛

      • Iron Fist says:

        {rightymouse} 😛

        Damn thig switched my nic. I hate it when it does that…

  9. beed says:

    When life was good:

  10. garycooper says:

    “Charlie’s Chickens”…that has a nice ring to it, very neighborly. Maybe he could run some kind of chicken farm after the swamp finally dries up for good. Free-range and totally organic, of freakin’ course. Each chicken tested for plumpness and basted with secret sauce, by Ol’ Charlie hisself, using the same time-honored traditional methods of his inbred rural forebears.

    “We Love Our Chickens, You Will Too.”

  11. P. Ness Lowell says:

    All ur chickens r belong to Popeye.

  12. swamprat says:

    I see that charles is busily promoting the Breitbart legacy. If he draws any more attention to Andrew, even Geller might get jealous.

    Only charles could feel threatened by someone who has gone on to his reward.

    Breitbart will live on… in a thousands denials and rebukes. Whenever someone notices that liberals can’t run a country, he’ll be there. Whenever someone understands that high gas prices hit women and minorities hardest, he’ll be there.

  13. Poteen says:

    [Faulkner was a drunken sot.]

    Maybe so but think what he could have written with access to this kind of chemical creativity./

    • garycooper says:

      Faulkner was a damn genius, too. When you have that, and you’re willing to do the work in between or during your drunken binges, you get to drink as much as you want until your liver turns to goo.

  14. beed says:

    Possibly the greatest vid ever made:

    The rule has been disproved
    The stone it has been moved
    The grave is now a groove
    All debts are removed


    • garycooper says:

      I hate U2, but I really liked that video. At least until Bono started that shit around 2:20. 🙄
      The images are amazing.

  15. haysoos says:

    swamprat :
    I see that charles is busily promoting the Breitbart legacy. If he draws any more attention to Andrew, even Geller might get jealous.
    Only charles could feel threatened by someone who has gone on to his reward.
    Breitbart will live on… in a thousands denials and rebukes. Whenever someone notices that liberals can’t run a country, he’ll be there. Whenever someone understands that high gas prices hit women and minorities hardest, he’ll be there.

    he’s obsessed with his enemies, he’s obsessed with his ego….that’s primarily what’s ruined his blog…hundreds and hundreds of posts supporting him…scramble around a few words but the redundancy is hypnotic

  16. Zimriel says:

    But we still won’t take the Irish!

  17. Minnow says:

    those aren’t cowboys, that’s some of the second shift boys down by the Harley factory in Wauwatosa.

    • garycooper says:

      The guy second from the right in front, with the huge furry chaps, and snazzy sweater, is one of the earliest Gay Cowboys on historical record. You can barely tell from the photo, but he’s making a bitchy comment about somebody’s outfit across the street at the saloon.

  18. Bagua's Useless says:


    Whatever I’ve posted or said you’ve responded with unrelenting hostility.

    Nope, that’s just your “hate me” tinted glasses. You’ve gotten only friendly responses from me since your “fresh start”.

    Your need to snipe away at “freaking out” and “grudgematching” shows your’re still trying go before that “fresh start” and redefine it in your favor. Ditto claiming you “ran off” more people than iceweasel, etc.

    That sort of thing gets a reply after you say it, which is your choice. If you didn’t make those sorts of comments you’d get no reply.

  19. Bagua says:

    Claytonia Sibirica :
    sending this to a certain someone, trying to get him to post on here, but he’s being a pussy.
    But maybe this’ll push ‘em over the edge!

    It’s the uniform. Wearing a chicken suit doesn’t encourage bravery.

  20. garycooper says:

    He’s being a cloaca, technically.

  21. garycooper says:

    Song about mammals…

  22. Bagua says:

    Is the bits in [brackets] from other posters? And the bits not in [brackets] from our visitors?

    (Not saying our “trolls” to be nice. Plus this is contributing content, not trolling IMO)

  23. P. Ness Lowell says:

    He’s awake. First thing he does…

  24. OT- I’m afraid I’ll have to admit that I agree with CJ on one thing vis a vis this week’s war with They really did break all those existing links to their archives, and that was, in the very least, extremely inept.

    Take our feature from not so long ago:

    If you dare yourself to follow over to any of those 169 threads that CJ linked to Breitbart in the ‘old’ times, you’ll see that every single one of them redirects to the front page. We should assume that it continues all the way up to and through the Weiner scandal. It’s as if they took all that work and …well, I guess they didn’t toss it into the garbage; it’s still there…but they essentially buried everything they’ve ever done. It’s a forehead-slapper, to be sure. They need to fix that.

    That said, there are probably billions of broken links on the internet. They’re everywhere; in fact, I find myself a little surprised when a 10 y/o link still work. CJ’s done a relatively good job in keeping everything he’s ever posted still accessible from hotlinks past, but he’s hardly Mr. Perfect considering the ~300 articles/pages he’s memory-holed, along with the 6.5 million hidden comment urls. A broken link is a broken link, I suppose, and I don’t know if he’s made the distinction for intent.

    • Bagua says:

      Is that a template thing?

      I have a php site that I wanted to go to the latest version, but it was too costly as it would have needed major code revision.

      What actually happened to that “broke” all the links?

      • essentially reorganized, and merged all the “Big” sites into one main site. In doing so, they assigned new urls to everything.

        Johnson actually did something similar a while back too. For the main page articles, the old urls looked like this (using article #26450 as a random example):

        sometime in 2007-ish, he changed it around with the DB switch, that same thread now has this url:

        The difference being, Johnson coded a redirect so that the links that were all over the web (websites, blogs, message boards, etc) for those old urls went to the new one, and to your average surfer clicking on it, everything is just fine. skipped that little detail, so all of those old links with the old urls go to the main page, so surfers are left scratching their head. They’d probably assume the article doesn’t exist anymore. Not good, especially with the volume involved.

        It’s a bit geeky, and apolitical, but from a business prospective it’s very important, and something that CJ can rightfully mock until it’s fixed.

      • Bagua says:

        I get it now, thanks for the explanation.

    • P. Ness Lowell says:

      Normally, when you have a good reason to change a url, you do a temporary redirect, and notify the readers to update their bookmarks. I have to agree that that was a rooky screw-up not to do that. But then again, I’m sure the organization was in a lot of turmoil.

  25. Bagua says:

    Pig :
    Ya know…….lookin’ at that picture……them old-time-cowboys were sorta “into” the furry thing, weren’t they?

    I find that very offensive!

    (Adjusts coon skin hat with the tail)

    I wear this to keep my brain warm.

    • P. Ness Lowell says:

      You realize that that coonskin hat shtick of Franklin’s was an accident, don’t you? He lost his regular hat, and it was all he had available. The mademoiselles loved it, but it wasn’t his regular hat.

    • Bagua says:


      Yes the ebil Bagua really does have a coon-skin hat, also rattle snake boots, hat with a rattle snake head and belt with a cobra’s head.

      Lots of guns too. But not a cowboy.

  26. P. Ness Lowell says:

    garycooper :
    He’s being a cloaca, technically.

    Cloaca doodle-doo.

    /Bet that got a rise out of the rooster.

  27. haysoos says:

    sorry all you dreamers….Crockett never wore a coonskin cap, factoid

  28. Minnow says:

    Daniel Boone wore a shaved monkey for a hat in the winter.The monkey’s name was Chucky.

    I am not shitting you.

  29. livefreeor die says:

    Why would Chuck care what happened to the Breitbart archives? It’s not like he was concerned about keeping his own accessible. Shut-ins in glass gated communities shouldn’t throw stones.

    • Minnow says:

      Because he is a petty, two-bit punk, jealous and bitter as the day is long.


      And he has a Weight Problem.

  30. haysoos says:

    livefreeor die :
    Why would Chuck care what happened to the Breitbart archives? It’s not like he was concerned about keeping his own accessible. Shut-ins in glass gated communities shouldn’t throw stones.

    it’s what he is, he’s obsessed with that shit…AB, Geller etc own Charles…his blog has turned into a petty, constant snipefest….but that’s what most of his posters want

  31. On the photo of the ranch hands above herein:

    Grand Dad on the Apache side of the family, when he and grandmother got married, he took off his shaps long enough to go in the church and get married, when they had the wedding photos out under the grape arbor made he had the shaps back on, I have the orginal photo, it is pure West Texas.

    • Minnow says:

      Is there any truth to the Armadillo hats I have heard so much about in Texas?

      • Well, the Waggoner Ranch “DDD” wear these big ass honker hats and if you never worked on the Waggoner , you better be careful if one or more of them catch you wearing one of them in a bar.

      • East Texas deal down in the big thicket area, lots of rain and brush, they had to do cow work on foot a lot so they used
        those to protect their heads..

        some left the legs on so’s they would look bad…

    • garycooper says:

      I have a photo of my great-grandparents on Mom’s side, still in Ireland. Oh, man. The scary thing is, several members of my family are beginning to look just like those old bogtrotters. 😯

      …who aren’t nearly as frightening-looking as my wife’s ancestral pics, from the rock her people lived on in the Aegean. All in black, so angry-looking, probably just got rammed by the Turks again. Good times!

    • Minnow says:

      what year was that? Do you know?

      • garycooper says:

        My Irish ancestors were photographed before 1900, probably in the 1890’s. Her Greeks were photographed right after their war with the Turks in the early 1920’s, which was a disaster for Greece. It’s no wonder they looked starved and scared.

  32. garycooper says:

    It’s not :”glandular,” either. He needs to eat WAY less, and exercise TONS more.

  33. Bagua says:

    haysoos :
    sorry all you dreamers….Crockett never wore a coonskin cap, factoid

    Damn… I’m crushed.

    But surely Daniel Boone did. Here’s the proof!

  34. haysoos says:

    Minnow :
    Is there any truth to the Armadillo hats I have heard so much about in Texas?

    oh yes, but they usually don’t fit humans..too small

  35. garycooper says:

    You can catch leprosy from touching armadillos. I never touch them, for this reason. I don’t even go near them.

    • Bagua says:

      I actually thought they were some sort of reptile until I saw one up close. Turned out to be a muskrat with a shell.

  36. Bagua says:

    Oh, bloody hell. The dreaded “New Thread” event has happened.

  37. Wind Up Bird says:

    A little birdy told me there was a thread admiring my work!


  38. Fatter and Fatter you are.

  39. entasis says:

    And as he walked downstairs through the moonlit paddocks
    the Loathsome Man winced with a slow moving rail fence
    and the fence winced back.