Mart the Dutchman on Impressionism

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We're Back!

Like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Like a prize-fighter regaining his footing. Like Christina Aguilera's post-"Dirrrty" career. The Gargoyle blog is back and better than ever. New content is on the way, so check back regularly. In the meantime, why not visit our newly updated archives

Hilary Duff is Pregnant

Using the hacking technology of the News of the World, the Gargoyle was able to secure an advanced copy of Ms. Duff's Ultrasound.

Have a look.

Movie Review: The Legend of Boggy Creek

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Welcome to Fouke, Arkansas, where the population apparently hasn't grown in twenty years. Where people fish a lot and freak out at handprints in the mud. Where kittens die without warning and flowerpots are constantly knocked over.  Where girls scream ceaselessly and half the town carries the last name of Crabtree. 

It's not the residents' fault, of course. Each one of these unfortunate events is the direct result of Bigfoot living in their backyard. How do I know this? Well, the people of Fouke, no doubt fed up with people asking them about their last names and broken flowerpots, have put all widespread public rumors to rest with their 1972 documentary entitled The Legend of Boggy Creek.

Complete with needless zooms, brilliant reenactments, and (of course) actual footage of Sasquatch, you know you're in for something that really should have been Oscar nominated. Be warned: this movie is terrifying. Those with weak stomachs should not continue to read after the jump.

Dear BroBama

In light of the recent debt crisis I've decided to make my own plan, outlined to inform our president of how handling debt should really be done.


To Our Royal Highness (and seasoned man with an inexorable fashion sense),

A Conversation with the Radio

(Because there was no one else to talk to that day).

Me: Hey there, Radio! Whatcha doing today?

Radio: Today I don't feel like doing anything. I just wanna lay in my bed.

Me: Oh. Well, all right, then, what about Saturday? Want me to call Saturday?

Radio: Don't feel like picking up my phone. So leave a message at the tone
'Cause today I swear I'm not doing anything.

Me: I'm asking you about Saturday. And you know how much leaving voicemails freaks me out. Sometimes you're really insensitive, you know that?

Radio: I'm gonna kick my feet up. Then stare at the fan.

Me: Pretending to go comatose isn't helping, Radio.

Radio: Turn the TV on, throw my hand in my pants

Me: ...

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What happens when you go all "secret superspy"

So yesterday I tried to rent Insidious from the Redbox at Kroger, but apparently it was out of stock. I say 'apparently' because I'm still convinced that they have 40 copies of it in there, and when they claim to have...what is it this week, oh, Blue Crush 2...that they actually don't have any, and stock the good movies in its place instead.

What did I get instead?!? After the jump.

A Matter of Character

Let's be honest. Michelle Bachmann is wildly unqualified for any kind of public office. But more importantly, the vast amount of entertainment available to us is pretty awesome. And you know what makes good entertainment? Besides dick jokes? Good actors. I specify actors because print media is dead. Having the right actors makes or breaks a series. Of course, this means good actors are in high demand, resulting in the most talented actors being recycled. Which is where things get a little incestuous. Yes, right now the actor on screen may be playing a struggling suburban father. But just last week he was a Thai hooker. It gets confusing. That's why I endorse wholly embracing this phenomenon. Here are my suggestions: 
Here's a little comic I drew.  A similar version will be in the next issue, but drawn by an artist.

Things I Learned in the Wilderness

Well, after over six weeks, I have finally returned from my sabbatical in the wilderness that we know as Maine. After wandering through this desolate land of wannabe Stephen King terrors and small-town people with indefinable accents, I managed to reach the final stage of enlightenment. Yes, enlightenment. I have finally realized what my life's work should be, and have come to terms with the meaning of my existence.

But until Joss Whedon's Firefly returns to television and My Little Pony disappears from the internet altogether, said work cannot take place. Therefore, I have decided to resume my web writing for the Gargoyle to pass the time. And, since I am a generous higher power, I have decided to impart some of the ancient wisdom that I have gained from the wild after the jump. Be grateful, lesser beings. Be grateful.

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Gargoyle Magazine readers utilize moving companies and moving services at the end of each semester to help move personal belongings to and from school.