Wednesday, September 23, 2009


Here at StabbyMart we deal with a variety of customers. All genders, colours, races, nationalities, religions and professions. What I'm saying is that every single day we welcome idiots, morons, asshats, jerk-offs, dickfaces, assholes and the ever popular douche. But honestly, we love 'em! I mean they pay the bills so we have to right? WRONG! At StabbyMart we have a wide selection of devices that are specially suited to tearing these people a new one. Please check out our "Specials" section to find that particular something that will satisfy your inner killer.

Of course these particular implements are tailored to my own requirements but I'm sure that we can find something that will make you just as happy in the pants as I am.

Customer: Mr. Oldensingle - Contrary to popular belief, we here at StabbyMart do actually have hearts. I honestly have some sympathy for these people. There are a lot of customers that have partners who have passed on and they have no fucking idea how to do many things that we take for granted every day.These people are usually two generations older than I and have a total lack of knowledge of how to do the tasks that their better half performed. Fifty years ago, in rural areas, gender roles were pretty specific. Pa did the farming and Ma did the cooking, cleaning, child-raisin' and everything else; and I do mean everything. This includes the vast majority of financial transactions and bookeeping. I've had quite a few men come in who have no idea what a tax notice is, what this invoice is for, how a debit card works and even how to write a check. I'm absolutely floored that these men actually manage to survive on their own. You can usually spot a Mr. Oldensingle by the look of lost confusion that is permanently etched upon their face.

The Purchase: A nice fluffy goose-down pillow - $14.95. The poor bastards are scared, confused and lonely already (although you'd be surprised how often I've heard "I'm glad she's gone") just let them go quietly to the great beyond. Don't feel bad, she's waiting to nag him on the other side. As an additional mercy, I suggest you purchase our stain-resistant, 600 thread count pillow case for $69.95. We all know how hard old-man bodily fluids are to get out of any fabric so why take the chance. Come on, let him go into the great beyond in Egyptian Cotton comfort, it's the least you can do.

Customer: Whiny Pantsless - If this wuss was one of my kids, he would have been told to nut up and spanked like that girl I paid last week. This collection of misery will whine about every. Single. Fucking. Thing. Back up and read that again because I really mean it. He can be spotted by observing his stooped posture, perpetual pout, the highly pitched voice and the complete lack of bulge where a bulge should be. I don't mean the lack of schmack like a Ken doll, I mean this fucker is concave.

This silly little bitch will whine about anything and everything. One should be carefull not to confuse Pantsless with Mr. Bitch who complains about everything. No, Whinypants could have (insert supermodel here) fall from the sky and ride his dick like Elizabeth Berkley in a swimming pool and find fault with it. He could win the lottery and pout that it wasn't just $50,000 more. He could have a never ending supply of scrumptious, sack moistening beer and bitch that he would rather have a Smirnoff Ice. These are people whom I have no respect for. The people who will look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth and whine that the horses breath smells better than their own. These are the people who should just stay in their own house and wallow in their own pity because nobody else is joining the party.

Two examples of this fetid pool of apathy come to mind as I remember that, when these conversations occured, I was almost rendered speechless. The first is a call I received from a gentleman who was upset with his taxes. Now, under normal circumstances, this isn't unusual and is actually to be expected. But in this instance, motherfucker wanted to complain about his taxes going DOWN! That's right my sexy, big breasted friends, this crybaby was upset that he was paying LESS in tax. You may ask yourself "Self?" Cause that's your name, "why in Godtopus' holy, genital manipulating tentacles, would somebody complain about paying less tax?" Well, I'll let his own words say it for him: "You know, the bank takes a payment from me every month for taxes, so now I'm going to have to call them and get the payment changed. It's really inconvenient." That's right, Mr. KnobCheese is saving $550.00 a year, but calling the bank is going to cause him undue stress.

The second instance is when we were building a road in front of an certain individuals property. Our policy is that we will pay the land owner for any crop damage we cause or "borrow" material we use. So picture this: You've got a nice, spanking new road in front of your house that didn't cost you a thing and the municipality just sent you a cheque for $400.00 for what amounts to a grader tire rolling over your land. What do you do? Why you call the municipality to whine about having to claim another $400.00 on your income tax. If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. Municipalities don't get audited by Revenue Canada (The IRS for the Americans among you) so of course you would claim that $400.00 that the government won't ever know about. Idiot.

The Purchase: A Pitch Sensitive Shock Collar - $23.64 If you're going to cry you little bitch, I'll bloody well give you something to cry about. The beauty of this little box of hate is that it's programmed to recognize the pitch in a persons voice. Whiny can speak as much as he wants to, as loud as he wants to, but when that voice rises in tone.......ZAP! As an added bonus, his screams will usually be in a much higher octave as well, so you can sit back and watch him be the author of his own demise. Also available with our brand new rectal attachement which features a self contained electrical amplifier.

Customer: The Boss - I assure you that I do enjoy working with people contrary to my rantings, but sometimes I could literally throttle a motherfucker with my bare hands. No garrot, no noose, just flesh on flesh so that I can feel their larynx crumple like a tin can. Those of you in public service have undoubtedly come across this steaming pile of douche many a time. Upon having a disagreement with you, this cuntface is the one that immediately states: "My taxes pay your salary so you work for me."

This simple statement is an immediate non-starter for me and you can be guaranteed that I will do the very least I can to help you upon your utterance of this completely idiotic sentence.  My usual response to this particular type of customer is, "no, I work for the seven people that the public has democratically elected," Typically, this is enough to bring this particular topic of conversation to an end. But in one instance, I had this glorious mound of walking fecal matter in my office that just wouldn't let it go. After he tried for a good fifteen minutes to trap me in some kind of "farmers" logic, I could take no more. I looked at him straight in his one good eye and said "Well, I just bought a loaf of bread at the supermarket yesterday, so I guess that means you work for me now." Needless to say that the conversation didn't go much further. The one with my bosses, however, did.

The Purchase: A pair of luxurious leather gloves - FREE. That's right friends, we here at StabbyMart hate these walking cuntsicles so much we will give you these gloves for free. We don't want you breaking a nail or getting scratched while this bitch is clawing at your hands in a desperate effort to suck down some precious oxygen. We feel that you are doing a public service and should be compensated accordingly. We only have one requirement of you to recieve this free gift (a regular value of $42.67) you must look your victim straight in the eye and scream "Who's the boss now, bitch!" If they rasp anything except "Tony Danza" you are contractualy obligated to donkey kick them in the ballsack/pusslips as an added bonus.

I hope you've enjoyed this short demonstration of our products and how we try to cater to the most specific and refined tastes. Please look for part two of our series whenever I get it done. I'm also in negotiations with Vince Schlomi to act as our spokesperson. I'm quite impressed with how he Slap-chops hookers but I have a feeling that we won't be able to meet his crystal meth requirements.

Oh, and for those of you requesting more nudity:

StabbyMart: Smothering, Choking and Zapping Bitches Since 1977.


  1. A very handy guide and a very lovely leg, indeed.

    Can you really blame the guy for complaining about the $550? Isn't that worth, like, a bag of peanuts in most other countries?

    You Canadians and your silly toonies.

  2. O.M.G!!! I fucking LOVE you!!

    ...cuntsicles is my new favorite word.

    I'll take 17 "pitch sensitive shock collars"!!

    Still cackling like a hyena ...I think I peed a little.


  3. I believe I'll need a membership card to StabbyMart, as I have encountered all of these types of people today!

    I will also be adding cuntsicles to my vocabulary...

  4. Heh heh ... I just quoted a "Doran-ism".

    Yeh - I'm with "Trouble" on the leg ... rowr.

  5. Grammar things:

    1. You may ask yourself "Self?" Cause that's your name, "why in Godtopus' holy, genital manipulating tentacles, would somebody complain about paying less tax?"

    There shouldn't be a question mark after "Self?", unless the quote is "Self? why in Godtopus' holy, genital manipulating tentacles, would somebody complain about paying less tax?" Which makes no sense. It should be "Self," cause that's what you call yourself,...

    2. I assure you that I do enjoy working with people contrary to my rantings, but sometimes I could literally throttle a motherfucker with my bare hands.

    This reads as though you enjoy working with people who are contrary to your rantings. One comma fixes everything: I assure you, I do enjoy working with people, contrary to my rantings," Or change to: I assure you that contrary to my rantings, I do enjoy working with people..."

    Man, that was good. I need a cigarette.

    3. Damn sexy calf you got there, mister man.

  6. I would like 7 of the shock collars, please. Do you take American money or do I have to fucking exchange it? Or would you be willing to accept favors in exchange for the collars?

  7. Bastard! I wet my pants! I hate/love you!

  8. Nice gams.

    Also - that was so good I feel like starting smoking again, just to lay back and chill the way Godtopus intended.

  9. i'm so glad i asked you to turn around. you're that guy who will do whatever we ask just to make us happy. customers4life!!