Category Archives: Injuries of Drunk Gnomes

Accidents happen. Especially when copious amounts of alcohol is consumed. Gnomes are no exception to the rule.

Former Travel Gnome Turns Illegal Operation Coverup Gnome!

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As you may recall from my recent post, I have suffered a severe and permanent injury as a result of a fishing incident in southern Illinois. I am slowly coming to terms with my paralysis and realizing my limitations.

With no sides or back to my feet, it is unlikely that I will ever be a successful travel gnome like my asshole brother, Sheldon. I was searching for day gigs on Craigslist last night and came across a generic office job at some major corporation that’s undergoing some sort of criminal investigation. Something about an illegal gnome trade cartel or whatever.

I guess a bunch of the employees quit because of moral reasons or because they didn’t want to get arrested. I’m too pissed off and depressed to concern myself with frivolous things like morals or legality.

So I started my new job today. It seems pretty standard so far. One of my tasks is to sort through mounds of paperwork and destroying confidential documents that may incriminate the company. The piles of paperwork are pretty massive, but sneaking a peek at all this shady shit sure makes the day go by!

Another one of my tasks is to answer phone calls from really angry gnomes and try to calm them down. I don’t really get who these gnomes are. I guess they’re trade victims’ family members, reporters, detectives. My goal is to get these gnomes off topic and to chat with me about more fun things, like parades and glue sticks.

I am also in charge of fixing the printer. I guess that thing is a piece of shit and has been breaking down for years. I’m the only gnome small enough to squeeze behind the toner cartridge so I get stuck trying to fix it. Today I pushed some wires around, got covered in ink, and the damn thing still didn’t work. I hope this doesn’t affect my chances of getting a raise in a few weeks.

Well nose to the grindstone.

Séamus:

Former travel gnome, current 9-5 illegal operation cover up specialist gnome…at your service!

The Great Bowling Fiasco of June 2012

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The guys took me bowling for my birthday last weekend. It sounded like a fun idea. Colored balls. Long lanes. Fun shoes. Breezy hand dryer thingies.

After a few draughts of shitty beer, it was finally my turn. I picked a pretty purple ball and posed in dramatic fashion.

Caesar quickly advised me that I was facing the wrong way. I turned around with little to no argument.

Gutter ball. Blast. I was promised bumpers. These dudes told me it was a game that even a sleepy gnome with his eyes closed, like me, could play. I guess I was bamboozled again. Leonardo told me that the the penalty for throwing a gutter ball was to sit on the thingie that spits out the balls and stop them from rolling until someone else rolls a gutter ball and assumes the position.

 I assumed the position, alright. The very next ball rolling through the thingie weighed 15 pounds. I don’t even think I weigh 15 ounces. I’ve been working out.

Anyway, that large black ball knocked me right off the thingie that the ball rolls through. A true gentleman never discusses his injuries….especially when his injuries involve gentleman-specific parts.

Ahem. Enough said.

This marks the first and the last bowling experience that I will ever put myself through. I wandered out of the bowling alley and found a pit of fire in a real alley next to a homeless man. Even this was more pleasant than what I had just been put through during what those other asshole gnomes call a “sport”.

Homeless dude and I found a bag of stale marshmallows in the trash bin behind the grocery store. And henceforth, I shall ever be known as X’mores….the Xtreme S’mores maker.

Good evening and good night,

X’Mores The Gnome

 

Séamas Gets Defeeted but not Defeated

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My brother, Sheldon, is the famous traveling gnome and gets all the glory and fame. You’ve probably seen the pictures he’s posted from Zion National Park and Yosemite. You know what I have to say to that?  WOOPDIE FREAKING DO.

I never get invited to go anywhere. Everyone at The Abode says I’m too fragile….too wimpy…too much of a homebody. But you know what? I’m bored as shit.

Well I reached my breaking point last week when I overheard talk of a camping/boating/fishing trip to Southern Illinois. When I asked Master Gnomeplaya and King Jerry if I could tag along, I was laughed at in the face. Some spit even came out when they laughed. It was nasty.

The next day, I filed a strongly worded complaint with the Bureau of Internal Gnomal Affairs (BIGA). A few phone calls and blackmail threats later, and I was in southbound in the Jeep as the ONE AND ONLY gnome attendee.

Some of the humans were fishing and successfully catching fish. I saw those suckers and they were bigger than I am. I said no thank you and decided to sit on a log to watch the festivities and work on my tan.

I think my blood sugar was a little low that morning or maybe it was the motion of the lake. But the lake started spinning and I began sweating like a pig. I heard that pigs don’t really sweat, but I’ll save those musings for another post.

I lost my footing and tumbled off the log and into the murky waters below. Gnomeplaya ran and dived in (Baywatch style) to save me. Apparently, I forgot how to learn to swim along the way of life.

As I was cradled in Gnomeplaya’s arms, I was appalled to see that I had suffered a severe and permanent injury. I am forever missing the sides and bottom of my feet!

How the heck am I supposed to compete with my brother for the status of “traveling gnome” with broken feet!? Try as we might, we could not locate the missing feet parts in the lake water.

Instead of spending the day on a pontoon boat with everyone else, I spent the rest of the weekend in a physical rehabilitation center located on the side of a cliff. To be honest, it wasn’t all that bad….there was hookah to smoke, cards to play, and nice scenery to stare at.

I’m still in rehab and would love it if someone out there would send me flowers, balloons, and/or new feet. I’m a size 0.6 in case you were wondering.

Defeeted but not defeated,

Séamas The Gnome

(yes, I’ve started spelling my name with a thingy-ma-jig over the “e” to make myself sound more foreign. TAKE THAT, SHELDON!)

ATTACK OF THE GNOMBIES!!!

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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

A Discovery of Korean Exorcism Masks In Wyoming

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I’m just the fiddler. So what do I know? Well. Let me tell you one thing I do know. Our band hasn’t gotten any gigs in quite quite some time now.

We’ve just been driving around in the desert and McCartney won’t even tell us where we’re headed. You know what I think? Whatever, I’m going to tell you anyway. Well I think, he doesn’t even know where we’re headed!

This morning, we took a piss top in some shithole town, Wamsutter, Wyoming…Population: 273.

http://www.city-data.com/city/Wamsutter-Wyoming.html

I took this shot as I relieved my bladder on the train tracks.

The other band mates and I were all pretty cranky after being cooped up in the tour van for so long. So we decided to go on a hike and stretch our little gnome legs.

Starr and I took the lead and walked between those crappy looking buildings to see what was on the other side. Whole lots of nothingness! I took off in a sprint into the nothingness, threw my suit jacket into the dirt, and kicked off my boots. The wind blowing through my beard felt awesome. The freedom I felt being outside of that van and away from the other band mates felt even more awesome.

Everything was awesome….until I tripped and fell on my face. I think my baby toe might be broken, but I didn’t have time to tend to a toe. There were more important matters at hand….the thing that caused me to trip and fall.

McCartney, Starr, and Lennon heard my yelp and caught up to me. But they couldn’t even find the words to ask me if I was okay. They were speechless, because this is what they saw directly in front of me.

Lying right there in the dirt, were a set of Korean exorcism masks. What the hell had we just stumbled upon?!

As we looked closer, we could see that one of the masks was called the Yangban Mask and the other was called the Bunae Mask. All I knew is that they were creepy as shit and I wanted to get as far away from them as gnomely possible.

Starr whipped out his smart phone and did a quick Google search. According to the Interweb, the Yangban mask represents the ‘aristocrat’. The character looks rather jolly, but sometimes has people flogged to death if they insult him. Whoa. Don’t wanna mess with that dude.

Wait. Come to think of it, he kinda sounds like McCartney.

The Interweb also told us that the Bunae Mask represents the ‘flirtateous woman’. Well hey there, little lady. I might not mind messing with you if you put a bag over that weirdo face you got going on.

Wait. Come to think of it, she kinda sounds like that little slut, Roxy, who’s still tagging along on the tour bus for some reason.

We looked around at the nothingness around us and could not come up with any explanation why these freakish things were buried in the dirt of Wyoming countryside. Rather than ponder this thought too much further, we made a general consensus to get the hell outta there and get back to the van.

I wonder if exorcisms really do take place out there with those masks. And if McCartney and Roxy have masks that reflect their characters, does that mean Starr, Lennon, and I have masks out there somewhere too?

I guess I’ll never know, but I like to think that I have a creepy exorcism mask, made just for me, lying in the dirt somewhere and getting tripped over.

안녕히 가세요 (an-nyung-hi ka-se-yo),

Harrison The Gnome and Fiddler for Amish Meth Lab