ATTACK OF THE GNOMBIES!!!

We have received urgent alerts from three new Gnome Scouts about Gnombies (a.k.a. gnome zombies) beginning to infiltrate the gnome world.

Alerts have been posted all over the Interweb!

http://9gag.com/gag/4335350

http://imgur.com/gallery/jQGdI

I feel that none of us are prepared for this attack. I mean look at those things! How could any gnome be prepared for tha…tha….THAT?!? Who can we trust?!

The buzz around The Abode is that all this somehow tied to that whole face eating thing down in Miami, but I’m not so sure…

I’ve been trying to do some online research and my search results are coming up sketchy. There’s some You Tube videos out there, but they all seem pretty human-zombie-specific.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_l9ocz8jlKs

Regardless I have found evidence that the gnombie population is drastically increasing.

Even mommies and babies are being affected!

I write this post as a desperate plea to all the zombie experts out there….both in the gnome world and the human world. We need to stick together! We need to defeat this evil species (even if they are trendy at the moment)! We need to keep our blood and brains inside ourselves!

Sitting by my g-Phone, waiting for your expert advice,

Alfredo The Gnome

Radioactive Fishing: An Alternative to an Otherwise Dull Pastime

The guys around The Abode started giving me shit the other day about carrying around a fishing pole but never actually going fishing. Apparently fishing is a popular “sport” in the gnome community and I’ve been called a poser five too many times.

 

I tried to explain to these simpleminded gnomes that it’s really a slackline, not a fishing pole, and that fishing isn’t a sport at all. I haven’t made any headway in this argument. It seems like it’s me against the gnome world on this issue. This stupid frame is hanging on the garage wall and I vomit in my mouth just a little every time I pass by it.

 

 

My idea of “fishing” is going out for a nice fish dinner…

Or making a sandwich in the shape of a fish…

Regardless, I was rudely awakened from my afternoon nap today by Cowabunga and Yankee Doodle and this instructional article was shoved in my face: http://www.wikihow.com/Fish.

Then I was dragged by the boots out to some po-dunk pond just down the street from The Gnome Abode. Apparently their plan was to make me learn how to fish against my will. Aren’t there laws to prohibit this kind of behavior?

Against my better judgment, I stuck my slackline in the water and this is what grabbed onto the other end from inside the pond!

I’ve never seen anything glowing so brightly! I’ve heard the news reports about all those radioactive fish over in Japan, but surely they couldn’t have made their way through the waterways to the local gnome pond, could they?!

Cowabunga and Yankee Doodle seem to have disappeared all of the sudden. WTF?! They were all gung-ho about this whole fishing bullshit. Then I catch a really cool looking one and they bail?!

I’m trying to decide if I want to eat this lil’ bugga or keep him as a pet. He keeps oozing green slime all over the place so I guess I’ll have to make a decision soon.

Advice welcome!

Sketchy Andy The Gnome

Roxy hits Vegas! (And who the hell is this gnome named “Humps”?)

So I’ve been riding around with this gansta thug straight out of rehab named Lil’ Dimwit for awhile now. There are times when a girl’s just gotta lower her standards down a notch or two. He says he’s this famous gnome rapper, but I’m not so sure. He mumbles with a mouth full of marbles even when he talks, so I can’t imagine how that marble mouth would rap.

Anyway, he has become totally obsessed with me. He thinks I’m his soul mate just because I let him touch my boob a couple times as a “thank you” for letting me hitch along. I did a tarot card reading for him and it turned out pretty positive, so I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t making a horrible mistake. Tarot readings aren’t completely fool proof. I’m also getting really freaked out about all the times he’s had to swerve to avoid oncoming traffic because he’s too distracted  feeling me upin the passenger. Okay, so I am just wearing my seat belt and nothing else so I can work on my tan in the convertible. But still! I don’t understand why he can’t keep his eyes on the road!

I keep having more and more doubts about this arrangement and my safety. And I saw a sign this morning that we were less than an hour from Vegas. I’ve always wanted to see Vegas.

Today I drew my daily tarot card and this is what I got…THE DEATH CARD.

The Death Card doesn’t mean physical death. It’s all about transition, transformation, rebirth, and permanent change. It symbolizes a sweeping away of the old to make way for the new. With this in mind, I knew I needed to leave Lil’ Dimwit behind and try my hand at Vegas.

Lil’ stopped to fuel up just outside the city limits. I excused myself to the ladies room. And I never saw that groping bastard again.

It was still daytime so I couldn’t see the bright lights of the Vegas strip yet. But one landmark stood out above the rest….The Stratosphere.

I hitched my way to The Stratosphere and found my way to the pool to continue on with my sunbathing. There was just enough room under the pool gate for a gnome to sneak under without having resort reservations. Whew. After all, those seat belt straps made some nasty tan lines on the ride. Oddly enough, I ran into Sheldon at the pool. That kid is absolutely everywhere! I can’t believe how much he gets around!

No more than five minutes of sunning myself passed before this big poppa gnome strutted by my lounge chair and asked if the most beautiful gnome at the pool would prefer a piña colada or a strawberry daiquiri. “One of each, if you really wanna impress me,” I replied.

Smiling to myself at my effortless luck with hot men gnomes, I pretended to read a magazine and waited for my two drinks to arrive. Moments later, here he was with an entire tray of drinks as well as jello shots. Saaaa-weeeet!

My new favorite dude introduced himself as Hubert H. Humperdinker and gave me the Cliff’s Notes of his life story. Apparently he used to be a prison guard and some criminal arrested for illegal gnome trafficking escaped from the jail cell he was in charge of. However, instead of doing his job, he hired a hooker and was having his way with her in another cell across the hall. I guess the convict is still on the loose and Hubert was quickly out of the job.

He said I could call him “Humps” and I snapped this quick pic of him with my g-Phone.

He seems totally paranoid and suspicious of everyone, so he carries around a poisonous frog for protection. I think the frog’s kinda cute though, so I don’t mind. He also seems to have some sort of neck condition because his head bobs around a lot. It seems like one of those “don’t ask, don’t tell” kinda things for someone you just met.

Anyway, I’m going to continue slamming these jello shots with Humps and see where the day/evening/tomorrow takes us. Thank you, Death Card. The transition has happened, let the transformation begin!

Slippery, slutty, & slightly sunburned,

Roxy The Gnome

Arts & Crafts Seminar Held at The Gnome Abode

Today I hosted an Arts & Crafts Seminar in The Gnome Abode. As the newly-hired Gnome Educator, I feel like I need to give these poor bastards some cultural experiences. I only had two students show up to today’s seminar, but I think they got a lot out of it….one definitely more than the other.

I loaned Maurice a copy of the easiest gnome craft book I could find. 

He chose to make a gnome out of felt and sheep wool. This sounded reasonable enough. However, this is what he presented me with upon completion of his project…

Check out the photos in the craft book! This is what this project was SUPPOSED to look like.

I commented to Maurice was just too creepy to be any sort of gnome and suggested he sew up the face to make that the hat instead.

I’m not sure how much of an improvement this is, but at least he finished it. I suppose.

On the other hand, Horace masterfully sculpted this ethnically diverse gnome pendant out of clay. Truly magnificent!

Bravo, Horace!

The rest of you gnomes had better show up to my next art seminar. I mean you can’t be any worse than Maurice, so what have you got to lose?

Crafting always me crave craft beer. Time to ditch these students and quench my thirst.

The Quick Brown Fox

 

Shhhhh! I’ve Escaped!!!

Betcha didn’t expect to hear from me for awhile, did ya? Heh. Well ya wanna know why? Of course you do. I ask such pointless questions sometimes. I busted outta that jail cell, bitches!

Screw this gnome police state! Whatever happened to that whole “innocent until proven guilty” bullshit?!

Jail sucked.

I was put this tiny cell because the guard said I was a “tiny gnome”. I am NOT a tiny gnome. I’m totally average. I could show him a tiny gnome. I could beat his ass into a tiny gnome. He was pretty freaking big, but whatever. Jerk. He never went anywhere with his guard frog, who had vicious fangs and a devious smirk.

My vision was kinda blurry from all the flogging and waterboarding, but I SWEAR he had a stamp on his foot identifying him as a bobblehead. I mean he did nod a lot. But there’s a fine line between being a “Yes Man” and a “bobblehead”

The guard wasn’t the only one who was mean to me. The other inmates just pointed and laughed. This one called himself, Cowabunga, and apparently he was locked up on a 5th degree murder charge. I’m not even sure what I’m being locked up for. My cellmate thought this was simply hilarious. I’ll 5th degree murder him. Wait. I didn’t say that. Strike the record.

I hit a breaking point where I just couldn’t take it anymore. I worked a bit of magic (NO I’M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU WHAT KIND OF MAGIC OR SPECIFICALLY WHAT I DID) and suddenly, I was riding a buffalo towards freedom!

I’m not exactly sure where my buffalo and I will go, but we have escaped the law. The buffalo roams free! The Zookwinkle roams free!

Like an idiot, I didn’t steal a copy of my paperwork before we rode off into the sunset, so I still don’t have a clue why I was arrested. Perhaps it has something to do with that monkey and the can of spray paint last weekend? If not, nevermind. Strike the record.

Zookwinkle The Gnome