Before you read the rest of this entry, go enter my contest, if you are not one of the two people that have already done so.
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I think that the next time you do housework you should definitely listen to Ray of Light by Madonna because nothing says, "Get your shit done," like Madonna during her gay club music phase ... not that she's ever totally left that scene, but she definitely produced that album with young polished men who have well defined eyebrows and more hair products than me in mind.
Okay, now that I've given you your helpful life hint for the day, here are some pictures of my most recent masterpiece. This one was a present for Paigetron's 2007 birthday but I just finished it this weekend. Shut up.

I gave this to Paigetron at about 11 AM on Sunday and by 4 PM she was puking her guts out. Correlation?

Speaking of Paigetron, she is currently, as they said in biblical times, "big with child."
Speaking of being big with child, I have a new nephew who just so happened to be born yes-tar-day. His name is Newborn-O-Matic and he is perfect. I got to hold him when he was exactly 12 hours old and he didn't cry a single time while I was there. I think he might've been in denial of his birth. (If I don't wake up, I can pretend I'm still in utero.) As I understand it, birth can be traumatic for the bay-bay. He was early, but thank goodness because he was nearly nine pounds. Another week and that little son of a gun would've been a ripper in every sense of the word. He has the patented O-Matic mouth, with an upper lip that protrudes over the lower lip, which allows for the most peaceful sleeping faces ev-arrrr. Love him love him love him.
In November H-Tar and JahJah are having a baby too.
I am NOT having a baby. Ever again. I love it when other people have them, and I loved it when I had them, but I'm out.

You know, you really should commission me while I'm cheap, and when I say "cheap" I'm mean ... not expensive ... Sillies. And when I say "commission me" I mean for paintings, not for babies. Sorry for flipping subjects so erratically.
Wait.
No I'm not.
Iloveyoulikeamasonlovemortar.
Have any of you ever woken up in the middle of the night because you couldn't get the tune from Cheers out of your head? "Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name ..." I went to my dentist this week and he said he couldn't get "Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah"out of his head. I often have trouble with "If You Seek Amy" by Britney Spears and "Don't Trust Me" by 3OH!3 too. I was whistling the tune before school in the hallway and Fourteen-O-Matic heard me. She chastised me and told me it wasn't exactly the best idea for a teacher to be whistling a songs about not trusting hos.
Today, I was sitting on my ass and my phone rang. It was my dad. He said, "Do you need a Cuisenart?" I said, "No. I have a food processer already." (It's not a Cuisenart.) And he said, "Okay, well I just bought a leather jacket for twenty dollars and two wicker chairs for one hundred dollars!" I asked him where he was and he told me he was at "some place called hassenpfeffer or something." He explained where it was and so I immediately loaded Hubbetron and the O-Matics into my car and we drove there. It was actually called "HayNeedle", but it was a huge warehouse of a store that I didn't even know existed. But they do.
So, of course, while we were there, we saw Wakotron and Amandotron and my neice, Almost-Five-O-Matic as well as my mum and dad, who had an entire pallet of stuff. They had to borrow a truck to get it all home.
Hubbetron and I purchased a pair of Austrailian sheepskin boots by Koolaburra ($10) and a 16 inch dutch oven! I wanted to buy a rainbow hammock but Hubbetron said I was taking it too far. Fourteen-O-Matic bought some freakin' sweet slippers that I will probably vulturize once she's done with them.
Hubbetron says they look like gorilla feet. I think they look like Muppet feet. I would definitely have black fur if I were a Muppet.


Someday, these will be mine. These are the flippin' sweet slippers I was telling you about. I've raised this kid to have good taste in everything.

Iloveyoulikeadonkeylovesacarrotonastring.
HELLO!
My name is Morgetron.
Do you remember me?
To reacquaint you with all that is Morgetron, I will remind you of the following things. I am a robot. I like to surf the internerts. My favorite color is black. I wrote a book but it is still just a draft and I have been temporarily stifled which is why I so lamely hardly ever post anything and so lamely no longer comment on other peoples' bloggsies. I am hoping that my blog will be a place to get my ya-yas out again though and it's a helluva lot cheaper than a professional therapist.
Because I want to get this party started again, I felt that the best way to do so would be to have a contest.
If you want to be considered for a fabulous prize (a bottle of Pure Instinct roll on cologne),

please drop me a line at morgetron@gmail.com. Send me a love note. In the subject line write, "LOVE NOTE". I will then print off all of your love notes, sleep with them in my pillow case for at least three nights consecutively, and place them into a large hat and draw one out ALL ON VIDEO you crazeh voyeurs! If I draw your note, you get the sexy time cologne. This cologne smells different on different people. It's supposedly interacts with your pheromones and on some people it smells like fruit and others it smells like rain and others it smells like cat urine. Kidding about the cat urine ... all of the variations are pleasant. It has mango seed in it, so I can't use it or I will die a horrible unnatural gory painful and untimely death. So, if you win, not only will you be getting a sweet-assed prize, you'll also be saving my life. You can use this to signal to your partner that you are in the mood. If you do not have a partner, you can use to it signal to complete strangers that you would be willing to go into a stall in the women's restroom at Long John Silvers to compare tattoos. It's very useful stuff.
Please. Enter my contest. I rely on you for my self esteem.

Back in review ... as you can see my hair is recovering from its run-in with Hubbetron's clippers, but it does bare a striking resemblance to Christopher Walken's hairstyle,




or as Hubbetron suggests, like Lion-o from Thundercats.




For a while I was feeling a lot like Janet Reno. So, thank God that phase is over.

Thanks for your patience Sillies. Now drop me a line already.
Iloveyoulikeatruckerwithhemorrhoidsloveshisdonutcushion.

Right now, this blog is sleeping the sound sleep, only a coma can bring. It can hear you. It knows what you and Uncle Ralph are saying about it while it slumbers peacefully. Your singing is therapuetic, believe it or not. The poetry readings are a bit of an overkill, but appreciated nonetheless.
Your constant vigil is most appreciated.
Remember, many blogs recover 100% from comas.
Time will tell.

I am crying because I missed the Diego Rivera exhibit.
This is how I feel sometimes:

Discuss.
* All posts on this blog belong to Morgetron Productions * Copyright 2007-2009. * Email morgetron@gmail.com for permission to reprint. *