Chelsea Girl, this cartoon makes me think of you.

(Carton by Phil Selby, found on The Rut by Celtie - thx baby!)

Joe Cocker at Woodstock - captioned for the clear-headed.

Prepare to howl (well, if you're too young to remember Joe Cocker this might seem slightly less funny).

(thanks for sending that to me, Jeff)

On my voice mail today - a girl named Dassie left this:

"...the sticker on your dongle is incorrect."

After that, I could not refrain from giggling.

Ok, THIS is what I should have gotten in that lolcat quiz.

Because, you know, it's true. I am, and I don't.

(thx to icanhazcheezeburger)

Damn. This is hysterical. At least if you've read about this.

(Thanks to Scott Beale at Laughing Squid)

Like you haven't felt this way...

(Thanks to DN for sending me that and to Dave Coverly for drawin' it)

This video is too goddamned funny - The Landlord.

Posted after the cut cause I can't get it not to auto-start.

Well, i wasn't sure it was possible to reduce a person's essence, the totality of what makes them them in a few brush strokes.

Bit it kinda seems like cartoonist Doug Shannon does a pretty good job.

This guy was at a party I went to saturday (a Bar Mitzvah, actually, which was a unique experience for this california gentile), and of course I had to shoulder kids out of the way and say do mine next. The best thing is to watch the guy doing this, seeing which people he reads and captures instantly and who he does not. It requires not just a particular cartooning talent to do this nonsense, but also a certain intuition about people. We all have varying degrees of how well we read faces and body language; some people just seem to have an extra gift.

I've had no time to post, though in general I've been in a much better mood. My life, typically, is still in a state of constant upheaval (when, I wonder, does it get simple? Oh, right, when they shovel dirt over my face.)

So here's something silly meantime, 'til I get time to put virtual pen to virtual paper and produce something virtually interesting.

This is old. But my kids are walkiing around singing it - and they know all the goddamn words so I had to look it up.

You have to watch this first, then you can read the words, which are almost brilliantly surreal.

Thus - The Llama Song

Ok, now you can read the words.

I love MC Chris.

(swiped from the lovely and talented Merrick)

I heard the audio from this on the radio and I actually think it's funnier without the video.

I was literally shrieking with laughter in my jeep on the way to work. I must have looked like a complete loon.

No idea how old this is, i never watched mad tv.

EDIT:

Youtube yanked this video ('Dick in a Box') over a copyright issue.

Fuck them. Fuck NBC.

Link removed. Assholes.

I took this in my local Safeway.

You know what they say. With a name like Smucker's, is has to be good.

I'm not sure where this picture came from. But it rules.

And I have to say, I'm utterly and completely taken with the phrase "sugar tits". Is it a kind of bird? A candy? a frosted fried dough confection?

You know, it's the kind of thing I'd actually call someone, in a bar or in bed. You know it's true - how many of you can hear me say it? How ya doin, Sugar-tits?

But aside from that - and, you know, looking great in a kilt - I'm not Mel Gibson. Trust me on that.

Here's a thing of true brilliance and beauty.

What happens when you combine 200 liters of Diet Coke and over 500 Mentos?

It goes something like this.

I post this only because it gives me a chance to use the phrase Brokeback Mounties. And who can resist. It's an I'm a Lumberjack sort of story.

Two RCMP officers will finally get their man this summer, when Const. Jason Tree and Const. David Connors walk down the aisle and exchange vows.

It will be the first same-sex marriage in the Mounties' history.

(Full Story Here)

Brokeback Mounties. Guffaw. Props to Mom for telling me about this.

This is one of those moments where you want to ask a parent, did you try saying your new baby's name out loud?

The very fuckable if sorta over-rated Angelina Jolie, and her current man-slut, the also somewhat fuckable Brad Pitt, just had a baby - who you figure is going to grow up to be the best looking person who ever lived.

And they named this little person Shiloh. And that's ok, I guess, when you think about all the really really stupid celeb-baby names we've seen lately - Banjo, Pilot Inspektor, Diezel Ky, Rumer, Tallulah and Scout, Jermajesty, Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily. I mean, you can just go on and on.

So Shiloh doesn't seem that utterly stupid.

But then you say it out loud. Shiloh Pitt. Say it a few times. And it won't be long til you make a spoonerism out of it. And it comes out Piloh Shitt.

Ok, I didn't come up with this. That credit goes to Tabloid Whore (I love you, Tabloid Whore), with the headline SHILOH PITT TO ENDURE YEARS OF TEASING AS PILOH SHITT. But still, I cant stop laughing at it.

Maybe it's just me. But I think this is incredibly funny.

It's a 25-gesture version of the classic Rock, Paper, Scissors. Here's the chart, and the list of the possible gestures with how they play with other gestures. Though you know, they need to make it 26 - Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shocker!

Ok. Maybe it's just 'cause we used to sit around making up variants - like Llama, which beat everything, but then died, so you could only use it once. But I'm wishing I could actually memorize these well enough to play these. I knew there would come a time when I wanted all those brain cells back.

(Props to BoingBoing for the find)

A mother's day highlight:

Having to explain to an 8 year old and a 12 year old what M.I.L.F. means.

"Um. It's a, you know, really pretty mommy..."

The little one was fine with that. The elder gave me one of those looks. You know the ones, the ones I'll be getting more and more now, the ones that say, ok, fine, but there's more to this story and I know it.

I just got hits in my logs from "buckeye, arizona" and from "surprise, arizona".

And I'm thinkin'...

Well. You know what I'm thinkin'.

I dunno if everyone's seen this or not but to quote a friend, "It's the questions at the bottom of the listing that restore my faith in humanity".

* COCK FOR SALE * Buy My Cock. Needs good home & TLC!

You know, I didn't hear a single peep about april fool's day this year. Its like our entire culture forgot the custom this year - or conversely, it's like I just had my head so far down that I managed to miss the entire thing.

I don't know which it was.

I remember years back, working for Sun Micro, when April First was the high point of our corporate year. Each year a bizarre prank would be played on Sun's top execs, from car-in-pond to pond-in-office to office-in-pond. Brilliant, elaborate pranks, like getting Bill Joy's new fararri onto a platform in the middle of a pond, or wiring a full, working office in the middle of that same pond for Eric Schmidt - he had to be ferried out in a row-boat, but once there was able to answer email and make phone calls. They'd strung power and ethernet under the water so it came up through the floor of the platform.

There was many of these over the years, and it's one of the reasons I loved working at sun, though eventually, as always happens with big corporations, the fun got sucked out of the culture and the pranks stopped.

So what happened? Were they brilliant pranks I just missed? Or am I right in my assessment that the pranksters seemed to have taken a holiday this year?

I was talking to an old, old friend and trying to 'splain blogging.

I didn't do that well, but I figured, I'l just show her. I was gonna direct her to my blog, but then I figured, no, wait, i need to start her off with a good blog so I went with Waiter Rant.

She then did me one better by following Waiter's link to Steve, Don't Eat It!, a feature of The Sneeze.

Holy christ, this is funny.

On Potted Meat Food Product:

Okay, here we go-- Pulling back the lid (not recommended) lets loose an odor that punches you in the nose like a stinky fist. If you've ever smelled a can of dog food, it's just like that. Only imagine you are opening the can while your head is wedged in a horse's ass.

On Pickled Pork Rinds:

While perusing the "Good Lord, NOOOO!" aisle of the supermarket, I came across the atrocity known as Dolores Brand Pickled Pork Rinds. These are not the crunchy pork rinds you'll often see over by the chips. These are their grosser, soggier, potentially botulism-ier cousins.

The label says "Ready to Eat." They left off "By Dumb-Asses."

On home-made prison wine:

Through some miracle, it actually tasted nothing like it smelled. In fact, there was very little flavor other than sour, watery alcohol. It's hard to believe this started out as a bag of fruit snacks and grape juice. Yet somehow these ingredients went from sweet and child-like to harsh and alcoholic quicker than Lindsay Lohan.

Oh my god, I'm gagging and laughing at the same time. I love this guy.

While we're on south park, there's a newer character generator I hadn't seen.

So, you know, south park elvis.

Something is good and right in the world when photoshoppers/mashup artists take on the horrific 'art' that is Thomas Kinkade.

And the result is fucking hysterical. There are pages and pages of this, don't stop, they just keep getting better.

Gems like these:

Via BoingBoing, who make mondays less dreary.

Oh my god I love this site.

fuckvday.com. They get it. Love hurts.

(Thanks to the lovely chelseagirl for hippin' me to this)

For full coverage of this story, click here.

WASHINGTON (AP) -- Vice President Dick Cheney accidentally shot and wounded a companion during a weekend pussy hunting trip in Texas, spraying the fellow hunter in the face and chest with shotgun pellets.

Thank you BoingBoing and Charles.

(People keep telling me these links are broken, but they work for me - trust me though if they worked it would be REALLY REALLY FUNNY!)

Harvester of eyes, that's me
And I see all there is to see
When I look inside your head
Right up front to the back of your skull

Well that's my sign that you are dead
And my list for you checks off as null
I'm the harvester of eyes

Here's the start to my day yesterday.

I had an eye appointment scheduled. And of course good eye doctors usually book weeks in advance; otherwise I'd have cancelled given that I'm way too busy right now for any damned thing like this. But I need new glasses and it's been seven years since I had a real eye exam (we're not counting the eye-check-o-mat guys at the one-hour perscription place).

So I take the morning off to go get the peepers poked at.

Of course, I get the time wrong. So I show up a half-hour late and wind up having to wait an hour for my appointment. Of course I didn't bring my book, or my laptop, and I. DON'T. WAIT. WELL.

Finally, my doctor - who I think would be santa claus if he let his beard grow a little more and put on a red hat - gets to me and does the usual is this better/is that better thing, puts drops in my eyes, shines blue laser beams into the back of my brain, and generally pokes and prods my eyeballs 'til my head wants to 'splode.

Then he writes me a 'scrip, tells me I can go another year or two before I have to think about the dreaded B word (*cough*bifocal*cough*). Which is good because how punk-rock are bifocals, man?

So I pay up and am outta there.

But wait. Where are my car keys?

Well, where else? In the fucking ignition.

Now a couple data points.

First, I drive a jeep wrangler, which means that half the year the top and doors are off. So generally I can't lock the can't lock it. I have a lock box in the back for this reason, but I generally don't leave anything in the car I would mind having stolen. Yet, for some reason, I decided to lock the door when I hopped out.

Second - and if you've had an eye check you know this - when you get your eyes checked, they do some sort of test that requires your pupils be ten-hits-acid-trip dilated. The result of this is that your vision gets all kinds of fucked up for several hours after.

Yesterday was an incredibly sunny, blue-sky warm spring day here in northern cali. Bright, bright, bright. And dilated pupils means light sensitive. Hangover/migraine sensitive has nuthin' on this, think hangover plus migraine. My sun-glasses? In the car. With the keys.

So the first thing I think when I look in and see my keys, dangling, mocking me from the ignition (after I momentarily consider putting a fist through the window, which I know from experience fucking hurts), is, Call someone to bring the spare keys. And I think for a moment about where my spare Jeep key is.

You know where this is going. Admit it.

My spare key is in the center console, in the Jeep.

So what to do? I hear in Beatle voices from Yellow Saubmarine:

John: Maybe we should call a road service?

Ringo: And we’re not sub... scribers.

Now another data point about the dilated pupils; the ability to focus in close goes to near zero. This isn't so much an issue when you're driving (though the bight light and the vague blurring makes driving a bit complicated). But it makes reading impossible. Which means that working my cell phone was complicated, and reading the numbers off my AAA card was almost impossible.

So I'm standing in the parking lot in Los Gatos, California, in the brilliant sun, attempting to read a card at full arm extension and dialing my cell phone by feel. And I'm thinking, I won't ask for help, I can do this. 'Cause that's the kinda guy I am.

And then I'm waiting for tow-truck guy. And waiting, with my eyes closed because it's too fucking bright, with my knit hat pulled down over my eyes cause it's still too bright even under my eyelids. And waiting. And waiting.

Turns out, interestingly, that it isn't that easy to break into Jeep doors. No quick slim-jim pop. The tow truck guy had to fiddle with the lock for about ten minutes to get it jacked. Plus he had some cool tattoos.

Finally, off and away, and home; where I can't work because I'm still having halos and blurring and looking at the computer makes my head hurt. But at least it's dark. I try going back to bed, but of course I can't do that, I need to get to work, I'm getting calls from users who really really need help, now.

So I wind up at work, practically seeing trails and wondering what it would be like to be at work after eating six grams of mushrooms. I can see my boss wanting to ask me about the bats, but he refrains.

And that's just the beginning of my day. Let's not talk about the frustration of debugging someone else's object oriented perl code.

God damn this is funny.

I can't find any detail behind this but BoingBoing has a link to video of british troops on LSD. I don't know when this was or what the intent of the test was, but they looks like they're having a fantastic time.

Click the image to play.

I'm still giggling.

This is the Best Blond Joke Ever. I promise.

Sure it's an old one, but some things are classics.

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You will notice the benefits of Tequila® almost immediately, and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live.

Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past, and you will discover many talents you never knew you had. Stop hiding and start living, with Tequila®.

Tequila® may not be right for everyone. Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use Tequila®. However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.

Side effects may include dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration, erotic lustfulness, loss of motor control, loss of clothing, loss of money, loss of virginity, delusions of grandeur, table dancing, headache, dehydration, dry mouth, and a desire to sing Karaoke and play all-night rounds of Strip Poker, Truth Or Dare, and Naked Twister.

(I don't know WHERE this comes from originally, but it rocks - props all the people who sent it my way)

Jesus Christ, the Musical.

This is much less scary than the benny hill one.

Outside the carolers start to sing
I can't describe the joy they bring
Cause joy is something they don't bring me

I won't be home
I won't be home for Christmas

(Thanks, Blink 182)

If there was any doubt about my going to hell (oh, right, as if), this settles it. All you need to know is that I laughed life a fucking fiend all the way through this.

The Passion of Benny Hill (If you've never seen the The Benny Hill Show this won't make sense. Don't even bother.)

The web site says "WARNING: Graphic violence, gore, and blasphemous material". I might also add, you could die from laughing. But only if you're as sick a fucker as I am.

My boss (Actually my director) Jeff just walked into my office and showed me this.

ORLANDO, Fla. -- A holiday display is getting some negative attention from neighbors. A homeowner's display in the Hunter's Creek subdivision features Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer hanging from a tree.

That's just too cool for words.

What makes this entertaining isn't the slippers. I mean, sure, they're cute and all, but you seen one c'thulu plush, you seen 'em all.

No, what makes this entertaining is Cory's description:

"...keep your feet warm even as they damn them to a thousand nameless hells."

Not as brilliant as dysfunctional family circus, sure, but still, pretty fuckin' brilliant.

The Nameless Dread - C'thulu Family Circus.

(Props to BoingBoing of course)

Alan Cumming, star of Spy Kids, the brilliant Anniversary Party, X2, and about a zillion other movies, has a fragrance out.

And it's called - wait for it...

Cumming.

Suddenly, guess what you're all getting in your xmas stockings?

Ah, it gets better. I just updated the above link to point to the official cumming web site, and by all means go watch the video. He's so sweetly girlish, I'd date him!

And the price? $69.

(Props to Amie Sue for hippin' me to this)

I'll have some of what Joaquin Phoenix is having, please:

...Out of the blue, Phoenix suddenly changed the subject, asking, “Do I have a large frog in my hair?”

Reporter: No, no.

Phoenix: “Something’s crawling out of my scalp.”

Reporter: No, you look great.

Phoenix: “No, but I feel it. I’m not worried about the looks. I’m worried about the sensation of my brain being eaten. … What did you ask me?”

I've been walking around since I read this, thinking I’m worried about the sensation of my brain being eaten. I think I wanna party with 'ol Joaquin.

Ok, this is too fucking funny.

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - Quaker Maid Meats Inc. on Tuesday said it would voluntarily recall 94,400 pounds of frozen ground beef panties that may be contaminated with E. coli.

The beef products were produced by Reading, Pennsylvania-based Quaker on July 19 and shipped to retail stores in Connecticut, Florida, Georgia, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Virginia and Wisconsin.

(link)

That's gonna be a lot less funny when they fix the typo and it says 'patties'.

(Props to BoingBoing)

I have to post this, only because that first line should win an award:

LOS ANGELES - The red and cuddly Sesame Street Muppet Elmo has learned a new lesson: 'H' is for handcuffs.

Yeah, that's my kinda muppet.

Go see overCompensating about those muthafuckin' snakes.

And there ain't a got-damn thing you can do about it!

(Props to Larry B)

I just don't quite understand it.

But evidently someone found this idea so scary, they made a movie of it.

I can just hear the pitch -

"There are these snakes, and they're on a plane, and that's really really scary..."

"Why is it scary?"

"Well, they're snakes, right? And they're on this plane..."

"And this is scary because?"

"They're - angry."

"Why?"

"Because... They're... Um. On a plane?"

"Snakes don't like planes?"

"Theses don't"

"Ok..."

"It's got Samuel L Jackson in it!"

"Green Light."

I give you Snakes on a Plane. That's right, Snakes on a Plane.

(props to SmartyPants for hippin' me to all this)

This is just how much I hate you all. I'm going to stick this stupid song in your heads.

Magical Trevor
Magical Trevor 2
Magical Trevor 3

Because Badger Badger isn't evil enough, not even when you get the xmas badgers or the lotr badgers.

I blame it on my dear, sweet Booty Girl. Boots, I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson now - watch out!

Arrr, it be Talk Like a Pirate Day, t'day, the nineteenth' a' september.

Avast there ye bilge rats! Be spreadin' the word, sez I.

(I'm sorry)

(No, actually, I'm not.)

Ok so I keep seeing this headline on CNN.com:

TS Rita gains muscle to threaten Florida

...And sure, I know they mean Tropical Storm</