Good Girls Don't, I Do vs. Pikkel Weezel
Today we are joined by a guest judge, Brandon. Raise your right hand. Higher. No, higher. Higher. Good. Repeat after me, "I have no idea why I'm raising my right hand."

Good Girls Don't, I Do
Dave: Here's a gigantic strike: Go to any of Filthy Rotten Angel's archives in October or earlier and you can't read them: dark purple font on black background. Strike two: the anime-type pictures decorating December's posts. Anime. It's not that I can find anything wrong with it. Rather, I can't find anything right about it. Except for Voltron. Anytime you have big things fighting other big things, you win.

FRA's posts are fleeting emotions. Snapshots of lucidity with the edges blurred out. One senses a yearning for--...

Whoa, sorry about that. That's not the normal vitriol you've come to expect from this site. I certainly didn't expect to see the word "yearning" anywhere on this page. Let's get back on track: I like Voltron. Brandon, old boy, help me out here.

Brandon: It started well. In fact, I read this site a couple weeks back, and didn’t suffer any SERIOUS anal bleeding.

Dave: A ringing endorsement to be sure.

Evil Minx: She's a mommy who can write about her offspring without being all mommy-blog-ish. I so appreciate that in a woman.

Dave: That's what surprised me about the reader comments on this site and in the forum. If I didn't actually read her site, I'd have expected a half-crazed, supermom posting, "Let me tell you about tampons!!!" and "Highly personal details about my child that I am publishing on a public space so that this child will resent me later!!!" Ho, ha. I'm kidding, all you mommy bloggers out there. I love to read about your tampon stories. I always say, "Jane Austen would've been a much better writer with more tampon stories." Her loss.

FRA is not a mommy blogger. The simple fact of being a mommy doesn't make your blog a mommy blog. (Except for the piece about her son's scrotum. That was just...weird. Remember what I said about future resentment?) Her posts are short and whisp thin. They swirl lightly like vapors in the--...

Holy Jesus, what's wrong with me? Who said that? "Swirl lightly like vapors?" Mean. Think mean, dammit.

Brandon: On a recent visit, I was drawn to the line, ‘So simple and stunned by the swirls of heat from cars, bursts of wind from the frigid and far flung sky.’

Really, that’s not bad. And in spite of the recent pics she posted that ALMOST single-handedly led me to write to Conor Oberst to see if he would let me become an emo-groupie for Bright Eyes, I realized that in all fairness, I should scour her archives for other Mars-like evidence of good writing.

Unfortunately, when I clicked October 2005 I realized I HAD actually been to this site before. In a not-near-long-lost enough dream of purple-text-on-black-background-train-wreck madness.

Dear God, after I awoke from unconsciousness I felt compelled to create my own list of other things that Good Girls Don’t:

• Good Girls Don’t make web visitors select text with their mouse in order to see through the bleeding in their eyes (see October or earlier in her archives).
• Good Girls Don’t steal their profile picture unattributed from artists who make their living off of their ART. Shame.
• Good Girls Don’t post a wish-list without showing cleavage.
• Good Girls most certainly do not request Star Wars AND Madonna. Shamier shame.

Clearly, what she’s saying is that she is NOT in fact a good girl, but a very, very bad girl. It’s sad, because she’s got a poetic touch. Somewhere deep inside, under layers of Fritos and frosted hair and awful song lyrics, there is a poet trying to escape. But she follows the ‘bitch’ motif that is overdone on womens’ blogs today. Everyone is a bitch, lately, but no one is a genuine bitch. Everyone is a tofu bitch. Each bitch tastes exactly like the other. Even if this particular one can string together the occasional decent sentence.

Pikkel Weezel
Evil Minx: The fucker can't spell, for starters. It's "naked from the waist down" not from the "waste down."

Dave: In case you're just joining us folks, Minx is chief of the Grammar Police.

Evil Minx: He has the audacity to get all high and mighty over a guy getting off in his own damn car and calls the cops? Then he posts a picture of some model's ass and claims that "I don't care what the rest of her looks like, I don't care what her personality is like, I don't care how much money she has. I just gotta have that ass."

So I guess mentioning that the owner of that ass (it's me, by the way) would rather swim in a pool of her own vomit than be seen dead with you is unnecessary. Because you GOTTA. And if you GOTTA, you GET IT. You caveman. You club woman over head with fossilized parrot and drag her off to cave. And you have ass.

No, sunshine. You ARE an ass.

If the blog was amusing, I'd allow it. I would. Offensive as humour doesn't necessarily repulse me. Offensive masquerading as humour? He is a neanderthal dogturd who needs a good bitch-slapping.

Brandon: Let me start by saying that I now know why I was asked to guest post. Whenever Satan’s bastard enters a contest, no one with a number listed in the white pages REALLY wants to pass judgment. This is probably the first blogger to ever enter BT simply because he’s run out of people whose homes he can torch.

That said, I’m no fool. No matter how dreadful the layout, the writing, the flocks of birds that fall dead from the sky, the blood-tears from the ceramic Virgin Mary I just bought and the nauseating sickness that overcomes me when his site begins its slow, fateful load into my browser, I want to make it clear that I’m voting for Pikkel Weezelbub. I mean, I have a lot to live for.

This is a guy who writes his URL onto public toilets. The deepest philosophical question he’s ever asked is what his own nose filth smells like. He shoots car doors. Is it no wonder that as soon as I got through his June archives I fully expected to overhear the following headline on CNN:

Suspected Arsonist Had ‘Blog’

Filthy Rotten Angel is the better writer, her current design is much less offensive and I like girls and not guys. That’s 3 points in her favor. Weezelbub is a future felon. That’s 20 to 25 in his.

Dave: In case you're looking for a little bit more from your blogging experience, Pikkel Weezel also offers Podcasting. Fortunately, Pikkel doesn't fall into the trap of most podcasters, "Whoooo! Look at me! I'm a digital DJ riding the wave of technology. I'm playing all sorts of music you already illegally downloaded months ago." Nope, instead Pikkel spent the first part of his Dec. 8 podcast talking about podcasting. "Had trouble with my soundcard." Fascinating.

Then he moves on to pot-think, the brand of muddled pseudo-philosophizing characterized by gigantic puffs of pot smoke. In this case, Nyquil is the culprit, not pot. The theory in consideration? While driving on the highway, is the car in front of you in the future? Or is it the car behind you that's in the future and the car in front in the past? I would normally ignore such nonsense, but Pikkel overtly solicits our thoughts on the matter. The answer is neither, genius. I have a sandwich in front of me now. Is it in the future or the past? Jesus, that's some potent Nyquil. The cars, sandwich, whatever the hell else are all on the same timeline. Objects occupy different locations in space along the same timeline. Bang, case closed. I don't need a time machine to get ahead of you in the highway. I only have to leave a minute earlier (or sabotage your car the night before--again, no time machine needed, just jerkosity).

To be fair, I can't kill his podcasts wholesale. If he had a partner to riff with and shortened his stories a bit, he might have something there. They're humanizing. At their best, they highlight moments of frustration, anger and humility. They're the best part of his blog. If all you've done is read Pikkel's blog, you need to go back and listen.

Verdict
There's more to Pikkel Weezel than third grade humor, but you have to be willing to look for it. Both of these blogs, in fact, have a lot of upside. Hopefully they'll stick around past that inevitable date when the blogverse implodes under its own weight. This was very close, but as Brad has explained in the past, any picture giving the finger (in this case, a cartoon drawing flipping the deuce) is completely retarded. On this, the 12th day of December, 2005, Pikkel Weezel is hereby banned for two months. Pikkel, I am giving you a choice for your Trial of the Damned: Either post on the forum for the next four weeks, or re-edit all of your podcasts into shorter segments and provide more descriptive links to them so that new readers won't flee from the sight of 40 minute rants. This is optional. Success will shorten your ban to one month. Graphics for the winner and loser.

The Holy Order of Thunderdome hath spoken.