What is the Universal Constant?

Gumby does not fuck. Gumby has never fucked. Gumby simply has no desire for sex. If Gumby decided to plow, he would. But Gumby has settled into a simple life devoid of fleshly pleasures.

Why doesn’t Gumby fuck?

Gumby is beyond sex. Gumby has seen into the fallacy of temporary bliss and decided it would only bring him further pain.

Is Gumby in pain?

Gumby is in total balance. He occasionally feels incredible pain due to the machinations of his sworn enemies the Blockheads. But he does not dwell. He registers the pain and moves forward. He definitely does not call up his favorite hussy and make hotel music.

Does Gumby love?

Gumby loves all his creations, specifically, the horse he created, Pokey.

Pokey, the sin horse.

Does Pokey fuck?

In his weaker moments. But, much to the dismay of the art deviants, he does not give Gumby a good old fashion shore leave rogering. Nor does he go crazy on a 1976 Jessica Lange while she screams, “Talk about a one horse town!” as I once saw in what is called a “Tequila Bible”.

Would Gumby enter a book full of the fuck?

He would be but he remains above the fray and eats a cucumber sandwich, his canonical favorite treat.

Speaking of cucumber…

Gumby has no genitals.

How does he piss?

Once a year. If you see it you are blessed but you must be blessed to see it.

How do I become blessed?

Never ask if Gumby fucks. By reading this you void your ticket.

Have you?

I am but a worm and will never know the glory. This is why I write the catechism, why I alone hold the canon.

More like catejism.

You are a naughty boy full of thoughts authored by the Blockheads.

Did the Blockheads invent fuck?

They stole banging from the cage of the antiphon, but no, it wasn’t theirs. Now they spend their days ruining the picnics of Gumby and Pokey, the phenacodus that Gumby created, with guns and making each other their toilet right outside of Prickle’s (the canonical gumby mailman and dinosaur) houseboat.

Is sex…okay?

Only if you’re trying to feel delcious.

So I can fuck.

Feeling delicious is forbidden.


Because you are not a cucumber sandwich, the canonical favorite treat of Gumby and all of his friends that he created to ease the lonely pain of his powers. Specifically Pokey, the ungulate that he created from the drops of sweat that dotted his brow.

What if I am a cucumber sandwich?

You will soon enter the maw of Gumby, the lord of mouths.

Gumby…what that mouth do?

It swallows your sins.

What if I don’t want him to?

You have no choice. The blockhead is inside you. I will call upon his mouth extract the sins from you.


O Gumby, the hand of the universe, lord of purity and mouths, extract from this pustule the cream of his sins and give it unto Pokey, the winner of the 1996 Kentucky Derby and your best friend, so he may take his sin bag to where it will bother no one any longer. May Pokey’s journey be as short as the periods where he throws off the yoke of his responsibility and goes on a serious bang spree and burns down Detroit and as virtuous as the Blockheads are not.

Thank you. I feel cleared.

Of course. That is my function, as the source of all canon.

All canon?


So Mr. Bill fucks, right?

Oh hell yeah, son.