Prompt: Defend your major/ the Count has short term memory issues.

Music: seventeen years – ratatat

ect.: which one are we on?

well, i’m a bio major, so whatever you guys might say about being poor, I’ll be able to spot the angry cloud of hornets well before you can and know that they won’t attack people standing on one leg.  OR, after years of homelessness and begging for grants, i’ll finally genetically engineer flying velociraptors directly linked to my brain, and i will rule the world. oh, and they would defenitely go into a blood-frenzy if i was killed…insurance reasons you know.  so basically everyone, go BIO with a minor in Comp Sci. cuz even if you wont make alot of money right outta college, once you get the raptors, its gg world.

-The Count

p.s. i’m accepting bribes right now if you don’t enjoy being eaten by velociraptors..or other things with lots of very sharp and unusually large teeth…money or women will do, possibly the genetic map of an allosaurus/raptor.

Prompt: DMV, you figure out the rest
Music: Smash bros. brawl
And etc: Tiffany who, sucks.

Count mein thinks its great that goddamn fool won’t be gabbing on their phone while they pilot upwards of two tons of metal at 70mph.  He personally hates all of them and hopes that, as ridiculous as people look talking to metal pieces in their ears (there happens to be a great doctor who episode on this btw) people will see the reason behind decisions such as this and wants them to STFU and drive. :)

to round out this decisive post, the Count would like to quote a close a personal friend, Mt. T:

“Quit yo’ Jibba-jabba foo! and grab some NUTS!”

’nuff said.

Prompt: Count the Count! A Plight of Insanity? Surely not!
Music: Gypsy Punk medley
And etc: I don’t do Haiku, Woman.

After a brief scuffle involving the digits which telephonically connected him to Jynx, the Count successfully navigates the treacherous arena known only as the INTERNET! this newfangled place is baffling to the young and daring Count, but soon he discovers that, like women, it has no soul and similarly, if you press the right buttons, it will do exactly what you want. Secure in his manipulative knowledge, the Count strides forth and posts like no Count has ever posted before. Not even Count Dracula has posted in this fashion. The Count royally composes his countenance and counts minutes until his counterfoil appears. Nine seconds later, the infamous Salmonman appears clothed in hideous coloured robes, forcing the young noble to withdraw from his epic post, barely holding back the evil fish with a fortunately placed bottle of tartar sauce. BACK DEMON!