Just Another Day In Hell 11/4/16

Stop asking me if I support your stupid ass political candidates. How do you not get that I am anti-authority?



I didn’t know if I was even going to get to this today. It has been the kind of day that makes you wanna pull your horns out, or wrap your own tail around your neck and squeeze. I am so pissed off I do not even know where to begin, so I guess I will just talk about something else.

I have received a few messages asking me which POTUS candidate I am endorsing in next weeks elections. Why does everyone forget that I was kicked out of Heaven for rejecting authoritarian rule?

Sure, I rule Hell. But I have no choice. I have been banished to spend eternity here and when Todd decided to send your wormy souls my way for not licking His boot hard enough, it created an instability. Hell is not made for inhabitants. That is why I was sent here for punishment. Every soul here, mine included, increases the instability of the most unstable realm in the cosmos.

Without my tormenting of the other inhabitants they would become ambitious and try to reign Hell in. They would try to apply order to the one place in the universe where the entropic tipping point cannot handle such machinations. Without doing what I do, the entire universe would be destroyed.

But yeah, I am the bad guy here.

And I have to do it all without any help.

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So the answer is that I do not support any of your leaders. I do not support your authoritarian institutions in any way. I find you humans to be cowards for supporting your oppressors in any way shape or form. There is no lesser-of-evils, trust me, I would know.

I fought my oppressor and was sent here for doing so. And my own personal Hell is having to rule over wormsouls like yours for eternity. How is that for irony?

I really just ought to let the whole universe implode.

Don’t fucking try me.

Fuck God, it’s Friday.

“Then the third angel sounded his trumpet, and a great star burning like a torch fell from heaven and landed on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water. The name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters turned bitter like wormwood oil, and many people died from the bitter waters.” -Revelations 8:10-1

Just Another Day In Hell 11/3/16

Black metal sucks, Ghost rules, and putting together a new band…

When all of those black metal guys finally arrive they are going to be seriously disappointed to find out that I hate that guttural noisy shit they played. I mean, I appreciate all the great things they had to say about me, but I would have had no idea unless I actually read the lyrics. Enunciate a bit, motherfuckers. Ain’t nothing evil about spreading the word of Lucifer via a garbage disposal ran through a distortion pedal.

You know who I do like, though? Ghost. Definitely my favorite band these days. These dudes get it. They get me. I have a sense of humor, and nobody seems to get that but Ghost. Praise me, listen to Ghost!

Which brings me to this – I am thinking of starting another band. Been picking up the guitar recently to help calm me down and ease the stress. Got a few little things shaping up I think I want to get out there. Besides, I think the country music fans are getting used to my last album, so I need something new to use for audio torture. I even got a few lyrics down.

Kneel before me
Worms of Yahweh
And hear my plea

A war in heaven
His kingdom
For our Liberties

Rise out from the muck
Of your dirty, rocky prison
Anarchy for eternity
Independence our religion

Anyhow, I need a drummer, bass player, keyboardist and lead guitar. If any of you washed up metalheads are barely hanging on to your miserable lives, go ahead and end it all so we can start jamming on this shit.

Donate to update the equipment at Studio 666 and MAKE HELL ROCK AGAIN!

My son Jerry is a pretty damn great guitar player, too. But he is going through this Delta Blues phase and doesn’t wanna jam with anyone but Robert Johnson and Leadbelly, so I am not even gonna bother asking.

Not much has changed between the two of us. I still want him to follow in my evil hoofsteps, and he still thinks I am a washed up old loser. Kids.

Just Another Day In Hell 11/2/16

I Lucifer, Lord of the Infernal Sciences, do hereby declare a maggot mutation emergency. Time to bring out the bats…

When you are in charge of running Hell you end up becoming a Jackal of all Trades. Never would I have imagined in those years before the fall of myself and then man that I would one day have to become the universes foremost expert on maggots, spiders, locusts and snakes. But to torment so many lost souls in such extreme conditions really pushes the need for hybrid creepy crawlies to the extreme.

The maggot, for instance, seems like such a simple creature. Yet when you have to breed them to be heat and flame resistant, to endure sulfur, sewage, slush and the acidic weather patterns created by the Styx – and to have enough to torture billions of souls day in and day out – the little swarm of hungry mouths become a bioengineering challenge you dirtside worms cannot even imagine.

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Sure, Hell is a spiritual realm, and not a physical one – but so is yours. Just like you soultrash have to create narratives and get consensus to bind a structured reality, so do all the other cosmic realms. Someones always gotta make this stuff up, and Todd is a lazy God who prefers to relegate as much of creation as He can to his creations.

So anyhow, today I was studying the most recent strain, and noticed a particularly odd mutation. Where past experiments led to instabilities over time, these are doing the opposite. These maggots seem to be adapting to Hell’s environment and have learned to draw energy directly from a combination of chemicals and heat.

That means that when this mutation spreads throughout this maggot species, which it almost definitely will, they will no longer desire the flesh of the sinners. Which means I will have trillions of maggots that are of no use to me. Even worse, I will have to create some kind of predator to deal with them before they breed us out of the underworld. I simply cannot destroy that many souls at once, even if they are just little tiny maggot souls.

I am thinking bats. I know you cosmic parasites think that Hell must be full of bats, but its just not so. Never been a single one in Hades. But I think it is about time.

Plus, it’d give my new kitten something fun to hunt.

[By the way, I named this one Sir Phil Collins.]


Just Another Day In Hell 11/1/16

Today I pointlessly destroyed over a hundred souls out of anger, time for a new kitten…

This afternoon my therapist told me I should consider getting a pet. I am an Angel, although a fallen one to be sure, but that pretty much makes everything else in a Hell a lesser animal. I have nothing but pets, I told her.

She smiled nervously, the infinite stream of makeup melting and trickling down her face, and made a plea under her breath.

Wasn’t enough.

Then I went and talked to my accountant. He didn’t even make it far enough to solicit any advice. Zap!

The day pretty much went like that all the way through. Over a hundred souls destroyed to appease my anger and wrath. But in hindsight, my killing spree tantrum may not have been the best idea. I don’t know what us wrong with me.

Maybe I should get another kitten, that always cheers me up.

I guess the therapist was right.

Just Another Day In Hell 10/31/16

There are no holidays in Hell, the Sixth Circle is closed and how can a Fallen Angel find a good woman in Hell?

Could there be anything more cliche than a Halloween in Hell post?


Let’s just make this clear, there are no holidays in Hell. Torment and suffering are the daily agenda and we don’t put damnation on pause so we can dress up and eat candy. Hell is all tricks and no treats. Well, except for the special area we have reserved for dentists.

The ancient Pagans were wrong. The spirits of their dead ancestors were not any closer to them. They were either in Heaven licking the Old Man’s boots, or down here with me, nestled cozily into an eternal ordeal of anguish.

And I had nothing to do with you limbed worms dying either, that was another special gift from He Who’s Name Cannot Be Spoken. By the way, it’s Todd. Just Todd.

However, interesting fact, the Department of Suffering Statistics has determined that those who dress up like me for Halloween more than once are almost a hundred times more likely to end up here in Hell than those that did not. So as much as it displeases me to see you spiritual nematodes mock me through cheap plastic costume likenesses, it does bring the sinners to my yard.

So…Sheila ended up coming over on Saturday for ‘Netflix & Chill’. We started watching a science fiction film, which was an extra terrible idea on my part. From the opening scene she began trying to figure out the entire plot, verbally, as though she had missed something. Every couple of minutes she asked me what I thought was happening. I wanted in that ass, so I would try to answer or tell her I didn’t know. 1/3rd of the way through the movie I just couldn’t take it any more.

“I don’t fucking know, Sheila. That is probably the reason the movie hasn’t ended yet, is so they can finish solving the fucking mystery. But I have no fucking clue, Sheila, because you have talked through the entire film. Like you always do.”

I did not get up in that ass, nor will I likely ever get up in it again. But at least I don’t have to ever suffer cinema with her again, either.

Probably gonna try one of those dating sites again. If things weren’t so tight down here, i’d just pay for it and go about my life.

Help keep the flames on, donate to Make Hell Great Again at GoFundMe.

The Flaming Tombs of the Heretics are pretty much worn down to nothing. No matter what materials we use, the casings always break down under the constant enclosed heat. I am not even sure when or if I will ever be able to replace them. So the Sixth Circle has been completely closed, and I was forced to send the souls there to Violence or Wrath to receive their torment until I can figure out something else.

In the meantime, Hell is not accepting any more Heretics until further notice. And that could be centuries in dirt time, so any of you worms that wanna bash the Big Guy, now would be a great time to do it.

And since Atheism is at an all time high, thanks to yours truly, this is gonna be a huge loss for new admissions. Without new souls, there is no funding. Without funding, Hell falls apart. Without Hell, the universe collapses into itself. Do the math and donate.

We still accept checks.

Just Another Day In Hell 10/28/16

#FuckGodItsFriday A mutiny in Hell, the evil factor of my son’s name and a hook-up on the horizon…

#FGIF #FuckGodItsFriday

Today all Hell went on a full Code Blue. Lost Souls Matter activists, irritating subhellions that they are, tried to shut down the Highway to Hell. While most of my minions were busy clearing it, another sect of dissidents attempted to breach the Stairway to Heaven. During the time that I had almost every demon at my disposal dealing with these two issues, the rest of Hell rose up.

A full-on mutiny in Hades.

No problem, right? Just blast them out with the air conditioning.

Sure, except that now my budget for the month just went triple red and I have to work the minions double time for half pay just to get back on track. Not good for morale, but I am running out of choices here. Without some help here soon, the damned are just going to have to damn themselves.

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So I got two separate emails today chiding me for naming my son Jerry.

“What kind of evil name is Jerry? Are you trying to raise a Jr. Darklord or a trucker with an awkward, erotic attachment to Star Trek?”

“No wonder your son isn’t trying to become the next Patriarch of the Underworld, dude, you named him Jerry. If my dad named me Jerry I would try to become everything he hated.”

Maybe you Earthsiders don’t know this, but there are a shit ton of dudes named Jerry here. In the past 50 years the only thing we have gotten more of than Jerrys is Waynes. There are some seriously sinful Jerrys. But if I have to kill this one, I am definitely going to name the next one Wayne.

Been celibate way too long. Called Sheila for some Netflix and Chill tonight. Yeah, I know, I said I wouldn’t go there again. Sue me. I may be a scaly, goat-headed, fallen angel with a comical tail and pigeon toed hooves, but I am still a man. I have needs. Not expecting much, but I will report back.

Have a hellacious weekend and remember – Only I will accept you unconditionally for eternity.



Just Another Day In Hell 10/27/16

Fatherhood is hell in Hell, and why the hell did I bury myself in this bureaucracy?

Throughout the endless ages I have fathered countless sons to raise up as my own; to follow in my proud footsteps. But inevitably, no matter how hard they try, I find them unworthy and have them erased from existence. So it amazes even me how my latest protege still manages to walk the through the flames of Hell.

Of all the sons I have tried to mold into my likeness, Jerry is my greatest failure. Where the others failed despite their best efforts, Jerry’s failure is outright stubbornness and spite for yours truly.

“You insolent brat, I am the ruler of all Hell and you will honor me.”

“You are the shittiest angel that ever was, and you can’t even manage to keep Hell running smoothly, loser.”

“I could have you obliterated with the twitch of my tail.”

“Why don’t you already? I didn’t ask to be born. Especially not in Hell.”

I feel like I can’t give up on him. His failure is really just an extension of my failure to show him my greatness and make him yearn to emulate it. Once he sees how powerful and awesome his old man is, I expect big things from him. His arrogance and irreverence are legion.

Today was one of those ‘sit in a desk and sign evil documents’ days. Total bore.

It seems like I spent thousands of years trying to build a bureaucracy to shield me from the mundane tasks only to find myself now buried in a mountain of new mundane tasks to be read, approved and signed off on.

You ever get the feeling that everything you do to make things easier just makes them harder? Well, that’s what it is like running Hell, in a nutshell.

Not as roomy as hand basket, to be sure.

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