Happy St. Bloggin’s Day. For those of you who didn’t already know, St. Bloggin’s Day falls on the first Sunday to occur after the annual DangerCouch show, but before Christmas. Not only is this day a high holiday in the upper realms of elite comedy bloghood, but it also marks the start of Blog-onza, the hollowed festival of cultural identity and non-blogging.

St. Bloggin and acolyte at a local renaissance faire.

To do my part in commemorating these great days in online history, I will be taking a blog sabbatical until the New Year, at which time we just might have new videos and all manner of Couchly goodness.

In the meantime, please examine the videos, peruse the last year-and-half of blog posts, or come visit me at my personal blog project, the Ominous Comma.

Thank you and Happy Holidays.

Brent.

The show was killer.

The show was dope.

The show was the bomb.

The show is under investigation by the ATF, FBI, and several local law enforcement agencies.

Thanks to everyone that came, greater thanks to everyone who helped out.

If you couldn’t come but would still like to donate to the orphanage, contact me at getonthecouch (at) dangercouch.com

We know you’ve been waiting since last year.

Well, dry those eyes because your wait is almost over!

After successfully escaping last year’s run-in with the dastardly tinsel of doom, DangerCouch is back with Rise of the Futon.

Come join us for the event of the year on December 6!

DangerCouch Episode 9: “The Furious Futons” will be unveiled as we take you on a journey into the Couch with Ruckus, Jimmy, The Drummer and Wilheim.

The fellas will perform live and will be joined by more than a dozen special guests for a mixture of music, drama and film you won’t want to miss.

Bring $5 with you, and that money will go toward building an orphanage village in Zimbabwe, Africa called Rekai Tangwena Children’s Home Zimbabwe.

We have a 70’s theme going on this year, so head to your parents’ closest or your local thrift store to find some groovy threads. We’re giving away an iPod for the best 70’s outfit.

We’ll see you at the show on Dec. 6 at 7 p.m. Doors open at 6:30.

The show’s taking place in the Visible School Auditorium, 9817 Huff N Puff Rd. Lakeland, Tennessee.

Meet This Year’s Special Guests!

How To Get There.

This is Wilhiem Smoder and I am writing in regards to last week’s mystery letter which I did not write.

As everyone knows, Winnona and I are full grown adults with a professional working relationship of mutual respect and combat effectiveness.

We did have an awkward incident once, but we worked through those confused and conflicting feelings long ago and have emerged as stronger and more stable people.

I don’t know where Ruckus got that letter, but I do know that he has been under a lot of strain lately and is seeking help for his online auction addiction.

I hate to say it, but he might have even forged the letter just so he could sell it.

“The prime suspect.”

Please excuse any confusion last weeks posting may have caused you, the viewing public.

Hello everyone, this is Ruckus MacMullit and I’m back. Jimmy seems calmed down now, so I guess it’s safe to come out of hiding.

I thought things would be more tense with him, but he’s been kind of preoccupied looking for something.

Not that I’m complaining.

Anyway, I sat down to write a bit for the Couch fans, but I got stuck. All that time between the pixels must have given me writers blotch.

It’s a really bad case, too. I’ve got phosphor burn-in up and down both arms. Like those old arcade games where no matter what screen you’re on, you can always see the top scores floating like number shaped clouds above the action. Except mine are in the shape of your emails.

By the way, you need to give up on that guy, he’s just never going come around. You could also use a screen saver.

So I was going to give up and throw my notes away, when I found something a lot more interesting on the back side. I think it’s from Wilh.

Winnona,

When I say your name, or sometimes even when I write it, my heart exceeds its usual, well-trained 80 bpm and moonwalks for joy.

Your bearing, your marksmanship, the way you hold a bayonet: all speak to me of woman who has everything, except someone to spar with.

Sometimes I like to imagine a life with you: long walks in the combat zone, picking out grenades together, cleaning our guns in front of a roaring fire.

And of course, matching and calibrated, his-and-hers bazookas.

Don’t be fooled by the allure of strangers and mystery men when your battle-mate is right in front of you.

I need……………forget it.

I guess you’re guaranteed to learn something whenever you tape together your scratch paper from the paper-shredder.

Anyway, I suppose that’s enough for one day.

Be sure to turn off your monitor tonight, those pixels get tired.