Super Kenshi is all new and today The Q addresses the questions that are on the minds of all Americans! It's all about Whole Foods, cupcakes and bears!

What better way to hate your week than to suck down a steaming cup of Super Kenshi Mobile Love Bus Cyber Squad Away?!?!? This week it's all bout Beiber, babies, bunnies and bustin' into houses to save old ladies!

An all new episode brings with it an all new gaggle of nonsense! This week Super Kenshi is all about polite crime, buttocks enhancements and Valentine's Day! You're welcome!

It's another all new episode of Super Kenshi Mobile Love Bus Cyber Squad Away! This time around we poke our noses in Egypt's business, follow up on that whole lion taco thing, and give college students ten bucks to change a light bulb.

What up kids? It's time for the return of Super Kenshi Mobile Love Bus Cyber Squad Away! And this time it's all about break ups, George Clooney and road kill tacos!

The first Super Kenshi of 2010 and The Q gives you the info about the heads of sheep at Ikea! Truth.

Church is fine, but sometimes the people you have to deal with...not so much. A newly married young lady approached me today and she was carrying a handful of beige envelopes, obviously Christmas cards.

"Hey, Quincy...I have something for you," she said in a sing-songy voice. She then proceeded to flip through the stack of cards.

While waiting I tossed out: "How embarrassing would it be if you did not, in fact, have a card in there for me, after telling me that you did, essentially conveying to me that you thought that you cared about me enough to get me a Christmas card, but you forgot that you in fact did not care about me at all."|

My statement was made in jest, an attempt to help pass the time as she looked for the card that would eventually be mine.

She looked up at me and said, "Oh...looks like I don't have one for you."

My laugh of annoyance was loud.

"But...don't worry...I think I have some extras at home. I can get you one."

She then trotted off to verbally assault someone else.

You what kind of church I want? I want there to be a cave somewhere in the world where you walk in, have a chat with Jesus, and go on your way? That would be the best Christmas gift, a lot better than a card.

"Q"

I woke up this morning and decided that I needed to get my haircut, due in no small part to the fact that I looked like a crazed jungle terrorist. When I called the my barber's cell phone and asked about his availability he informed me that he was no longer at the shop, but was now working for some other hole in the wall place that was thirty minutes away. My usual place is five minutes away from my house and I didn't want to venture into the seedy underbelly of Toledo. I declined Montel's offer, essentially ending what had, for the better part of a year, been a fantastic relationship.

I called Steve (owner of "Steve's Sport-N-Cuts), and asked him if there was any way I could get a cut today. His response, "If you come right now...I've...I've got someone." At this point I felt like I was looking to hire and assassin to carry out a hit for me. Steve's cryptic response was all the motivation I needed to toss on some clothes and rocket over to the shop.

Now, as fond as I am of embellishment, especially in the arena of storytelling, you must understand that this next bit is completely true. I walked into the shop, Steve pointed at a man I had never seen and said, "That's him. He'll take care of you."

I approached his chair, sat down, and this mystery barber whipped out the vinyl cape, snapped it, and draped it about me.

"Hey," he said, his voice a wave of smoky deepness, "I'm Roy. What's your name?"

As he turned me in the chair and I said, "You can call me Q" I noticed that this older, bald gentleman, had a scar that ran from his forehead to right below his left eye. He conveyed an air of sage-like brilliance and hardened gunslinger experience. These impressions were nothing more than ethereal markers until...he started cutting my hair.

In his hands, the clippers were sharpened implements of hair decimation. Imagine that Akira Kurosawa had directed the movie Barbershop...yeah...it was like that. It was a flurry of styling craftsmanship as this artisan blinded me with his prowess. The clippers would stop buzzing, I would hear clattering, and then a new hair-cutting sword would be unsheathed and he would lash at my head, my locks spinning away from me like the maimed rag doll bodies of O-Ren's Crazy 88s.

Then, as if that wasn't enough, for the final confrontation, he sparred with my beard. The blades of his clippers skimmed across my skin so quickly that I imagine that he slashed away, stepped back and the hair simply fell from my face.

When he was done his hands flew about my head and face, applying balms and salves, he whipped the cape away and I rose from the chair, not completely sure of what had just happened. But I gave him my money and walked away, hoping and praying that I would once again meet this...this being that had forever redefined the words Afro Samurai.

"Q"

On this all new episode of Super Kenshi, The Q gives you the info you need about exploding chewing gum and horrible children!

Dear Mr. Moore,

My name is...well...that's not important because I don't want any gun-wielding psycho hippies to come banging on my door only to shoot me for not agreeing with you. So...I'm going to call myself...Mr. Black Carnival. Anywho...while at school wallowing in the educational mire of my graduate degree my associates and I got into a discussion about you. We've seen and yawned our way through many of your movies and as the discussion drifted into the realm of nauseating boredom the question was placed before us...what would happen if you existed in a world where there was nothing to complain about?

Sweet fancy, Thor...what a world that would be? What would you do, Mr. Moore if there were no politicians to whine towards or no bitter men on the street to stick a camera in front of? Would you teach? I can only imagine how wonderful that class would be as you vomited up your cranky old man bitterness upon the willing minds of your students. Maybe a clown for hire, one that would prance about at birthday parties, making balloon animals shaped like General Motors devouring Flint, Michigan.

Alas, the group came to the realization that if by some stoke of fortune, the world shifted into this aforementioned utopia, you would simply...cease to exist. We imagine that as you were fading from existence (or Marty McFlying) you would continually try to convince every passersby that there are in fact issues worthy of complaint that they may have overlooked: the fact that there was never an EDtv sequel, the fact that Hannity never invited you over for Thanksgiving dinner, or the fact that the ladies from The View never seem to reciprocate your romantic advances.

Please know that this is nothing personal and that despite the fact that in a live action version of the Simpsons you would, most undoubtedly, play the part of Jeff Albertson the Comic Book Guy, these are just the ruminations of a group of young people that were sitting about one day, dreaming of a fantastical world...a world where, without anything to complain about...you would finally be quiet, disappear from existence and we would all know a sweet, long sought after peace.

"Q"

An all new episode of Super Kenshi delves deep in the madness of Jesse Ventura and continues on an epic quest to unearth great gift-giving ideas.