Recently in humor Category
This is so brilliant I can barely stand it.
(video after the cut)
This isn't me.
I swear though, it could have been.
(video after the cut)
I haz crush on on maggie stiefvater.
I absolutely love this blog: "guess her muff".
I love it because it's a game, AND becauseit's (good quality) porn (pictures of lovely real naked girls, not posed pros).
I also love it because it's exactly the sort of game I play. I look at women in various circumstances (at work, at school-related parent meetings, at various social gatherings) and wonder, what's she look like naked. I wonder, does she shave? If so, how? Does she wax? Does she use a razor in the shower? Does she leave a landing strip, or is she sweetly, wetly bare (which is not just a preference of mine, but in truth a fetish; it's been so since long before porn adopted it as a standard).
This site has kept me entertained, and distracted, for two days now. Were I keeping score, my score would be lousy, almost always guessing wrong.
The site itself is work-safe, but beware the 'See the Answer' links. They're not just naked, some of them are profoundly pornographic (buttsechs!). So open with care. And prepare to be distracted.
I submitted this to pundit kitchen. They have not yet posted it, but god knows they should.
Don't watch at work. And REALLY don't forward to your co workers.
This is an HR nightmare.
This is funny in a fucked up pointless way:
MoreCowbell.dj is a little Flash app that takes in any MP3, analyses it, and adds rhythmic cowbell and Christopher Walken samples, thus vastly improving it.
I didn't get it to work as far as uploading my own song, but click a couple. They're worth significant giggles.
In other news, oh my god the week I'm having. It's like trench warfare in the office the last ten days, and me? I'm the guy wearing the biggest target.
It's not the sort of movie you write a detailed review of. It's just not.
It's funny, though. It's howlingly, screamingly funny; it's about as offensive as it can be without being mean spirited, and it works way, way better than you would expect.
Sure, Ben Stiller is still playing the same character he plays in every movie; shallow, vapid, self-involed, self-important, and stupid. But y'know, it keeps working. Yes, Jack Black is still playing Jack Black (he, though, can play other people, he just usually doesn't).
And yes, they say 'retard' about fifty million times.
Here's the thing though, with a movie like this. They know completely how offensive they're being. But the joke isn't at the expense of whomever they're poking fun at. The joke is on a character (in this case Stiller's character), but more importantly, it's on us, the audience. They're waving it in our faces (fat jokes, gay jokes, 'retard' jokes, race jokes), and they're saying, you're laughing at it aren't you? Shame on you.
The plot? Stupid. The characters? Stupid. The humor? Maybe not as low brow as it's possible to get, but close. But Robert Downey Jr is absolutely brilliantly funny as a method actor who's gone so far he's surgically changed races for a part. And Tom Cruise - who I loath - is hysterical and profoundly creepy as a lunatic studio exec **cough**justplayinghimself**cough**.
This is a movie where you hurt from laughing, and feel a vague sense that you should be offended, but aren't.
Get there on time, the movie opens with one of the funniest fake trailers you've ever seen (no, not the 'fatties' one!). And get the fuck over the 'retard' jokes.
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)
(Thanks to Chris and J. Matt, and to Bobby Henderson at the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster)
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.
Damn. This is hysterical. At least if you've read about this.
(Thanks to Scott Beale at Laughing Squid)
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 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.
Youtube yanked this video ('Dick in a Box') over a copyright issue.
Fuck them. Fuck NBC.
Link removed. Assholes.
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".
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.
Holy christ, this is funny.
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.
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.
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.
(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?
Paul: Can't, no road.
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.
Do you have feelings of inadequacy? Do you suffer from shyness? Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?
If you answered yes to any of these questions, ask your doctor or pharmacist about Tequila®.
Tequila® is the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions. Tequila® can help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the world that you're ready and willing to do just about anything.
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)
Outside the carolers start to sing
I can't describe the joy they bring
Cause joy is something they don't bring me
My girlfriend is by my side
From the roof are hanging sickles of ice
Their whiny voices get irritating
It's Christmas time again
So I stand with a dead smile on my face
Wondering how much of my time they'll waste
Oh God I hate these Satan's helpers
And then I guess I must have snapped
Because I grabbed a baseball bat
And made them all run for shelter
It's Christmas time again
It's time to be nice to the people you can't stand all year
I'm growing tired of all this Christmas cheer
You people scare me
Please stay away from my home
If you don't wanna get beat down
Just leave the presents and then leave me alone.
Well I guess it's not cool to freak on Christmas Eve
Cause the cops came and arrested me
They had an unfair advantage
And even though the jail didn't have a tree
Christmas came a night early
Causes a guy named Bubba unwrapped my package (hot damn)
It's Christmas time again
It's time to be nice to the people you can't stand all year
I'm growing tired of all this Christmas cheer
You people scare me
Please stay away from my home
If you don't wanna get beat down
Just leave the presents and then leave me alone
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 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."
And it's called - wait for it...
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.
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."
"Because... They're... Um. On a plane?"
"Snakes don't like planes?"
"It's got Samuel L Jackson in it!"
(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.
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.
(No, actually, I'm not.)
Ok so I keep seeing this headline on CNN.com:
...And sure, I know they mean Tropical Storm. But hell, we all fucking know TS stands for TranSexual.
So this rita, she's some big, muscular tranny, threatening Florida.
Um. You know, that's kinda hot.
Q: What's George Bush's position on Roe v. Wade?
A: He really doesn't care how people get out of New Orleans.
Phone Sex from the Big D:
The Walt Disney Internet Group and Sprint have announced an agreement through which Disney will create a national U.S. wireless phone service specifically designed for families. The service, called Disney Mobile, will use the Sprint Nationwide PCS Network and is slated to launch next year. Disney Mobile plans to offer wireless voice service, exclusive handsets and a package of features and applications including a range of entertainment content for the family.
[ from BoingBoing, of course ]
I'm suddenly picturing phone sex with Minnie. Hot talk with Ariel. Or maybe man-man(dog?) action with Goofy. Just wait, I'll do my Goofy impression on this one, it'll slay you.
C'mon, Mouse. There's money to be made.
[made with ecto]
So when exacly did Cake change their name to Weezer?
Because you know, I thought Weezer were that band who did Hash Pipe and Sweater. But clearly, if you listen to that clip, they're the band that did Short Skirt, Long Jacket and Never There.
But you should check out a damned fine mashup based on said song.
I'll say it again. Me love Mashuptown.
Last night I was downloading something or other, some sample of an artist I've now forgotten.
Olivia was in the office with me, I suspect up to her eyeballs in her playmobile obsession.
So I start up this sample in iTunes, and it plays, and isn't interesting in any way. And I turn to say something to olivia, and the next song in my iTunes library starts playing. I have this up pretty loud.
And this is the next song. (That link isn't work safe).
It's the dirty-words-only version of 'Fuck tha Police' from NWA's Straight Outta Compton.
I thought Olivia's head was gonna explode.
IS THAT FOR MY EARS? she demanded.
“No honey, that played by mistake.”
“Why would you have that,” she asked, sounding near panic.
I explained what it was a joke, everything but the bad words edited out. And I felt like that moment in Alice's Restaurant where he says “...and creatin' a nuisance, and they all moved back to me there on the group W bench...” when I told her it was to make of point about how much some bands use that sort of language. And that made it all ok, as if she was then able to say to herself oh, it's a lesson.
Someone stop me from these stupid tests.
But I finally got one I like.
I love this drawing.
BoingBoing has the history and another link to the b/w version.
I'm almost tempted to get a tattoo with that version if tinkerbell.
Thanks to the lovely and talented Miz Lemay by adding mirth to my morning:
A guy goes to the doctor. "Doctor," he says. "I need your help. I think I'm a moth."
"I can't help you, " says the doctor. "I'm just a general practitioner. You need a psychiatrist."
"I was on the way to the psychiatrist," says the guy. "But then I saw your light was on."
This is for the bad little kid in all of us.
NWA's Straight Outta Compton, edited down to only the explicit content.
So for example the title track, which starts:
Straight outta Compton, crazy motherfucker named Ice Cube
From the gang called Niggaz With Attitudes
When I'm called off, I got a sawed off
Squeeze the trigger, and bodies are hauled off
You too, boy, if ya fuck with me
The police are gonna hafta come and get me
Off yo ass, that's how I'm goin out
For the punk motherfuckers that's showin ou
Is then distilled down to:
motherfucker, niggaz, fuck, ass, motherfuckers.
This reduced to me absolute giggles.
Not work safe, not kid safe, not even safe for me.
(Thanks, as usual, to BoingBoing.)
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Damn that's funny.
"We all want meaningful lives. We look for meaning in everything we do.
But suppose there IS no meaning. Supposed life is fundamentally absurd.
Suppose there's no reason or truth, or rightness in anything.
What if nothing means anything? What if nothing really matters?
Or suppose everything matters. Which would be worse?"
--Bill Watterson, 'Calvin and Hobbes'
There's a small irony that one of the great philosphers of my era is a guy who draws a comic strip about a little kid and his imaginary tiger. Such it is, however.
[composed and posted with ecto]
Oh, I love this story.
Having a vanity plate that reads "TIPSY" may not be such a great idea after all. Josiah Johnson, 23, said his license plate might have tipped off the Clay County sheriff's deputy who pulled him over Friday after he left Coach's Sports Pub in Moorhead.
I found this in someone's livejournal, and it made me giggle.
If you woke up and I was in bed with you, what would be your first thought?
So, you know, tell me. What would it be?
Those of you who have actually woken up in bed with me need not answer, and-you-know-who-you-are.
Ok, here's my list of Celebrities I'd Fuck
In no particular order (because, you know, how can you choose?), and off the top of my head (ten more will jump on this list in my head as soon as I click 'publish'):
Salma Hayek, Lindsay Lohan, Monica Bellucci, Cynthia Ettinger (Rita Sue on Carnivale), Alison Hannigan (This one time, in band camp. Need I say any more?), Chloe Sevigny, Christina Aguilera (I pretend to be sorry for this one), Heather Locklear (I've actually met her and you know, she's still fucking yummy), Queen Latifah, Emily Browning, Keira Knightley.
Even though I can't quite order them all, Hayek, Lohan and Browning are pretty much in a dead heat for first. Actually, why not all at once? Hmmm...
Your Turn, Kids!
(Yeah I know that's eleven. I just remembered Keira. I love her...)
A lot of the article above is about Jennifer Garner, who I have to say does very little for me aside from a casual I'd hit it. She's ok. Cute, but not particularly memorable for me. But I figured, if Goodman's coming out with his top ten, there's a good blog game.
Here's Tim Goodman's list:
1. Audrey Tautou. 2. Halle Berry. 3. Salma Hayek. 4. Any actress or anchor on Telemundo. 5. Joan Chen 6. Scarlett Johansson. 7. Jennifer Garner. 8. Evangeline Lilly. 9. Alicia Keys. 10. Sophie Okonedo.
Now I'm gonna have to think about this a bit. Hayek is on my list, darn tootin', but I'm not sure any of those other names are (To be honest, I don't even know who two of those names are).
I'm limiting this to people you'd do now. No going back to the 60's to do Ursula Andress; as much as that thought makes me (literally) start to salivate, I'm sticking with people you'd hit today given carte blanche.
And to make it interesting, you don't have to limit this to people of legal age. Let's see who's not afraid.
Ok? Go. Points if you have more than one gender on your list.
My list to be posted shortly.
Ok, Ray pointed this out and then Andie demanded I read it.
Waiter Rant rules.
Why oh why do people like Dr. Zamir think it's ok to do the sand-in-the-vaseline trick to thier servers and then ask for special treatment? Special treatment is for special people, and unless you're god or the president or the hottest celeb in town, special means people who treat servers with respect.
Say please. Say thank you. Say thank you to the busboy who cleans up your fucking mess. Say thank you to the food runner who carries all that heavy shit to your table. Say thank you to the cocktail person. Say thank you EVEN IF THEY FUCK IT UP.
Servers work fucking hard. It's a rough job.
Ok, so I got my bracelet. Here, modeled by Olivia, my eleven year old daughter, who sniped the fucking thing before I even had a chance to put it on.
You know, she's such a prim little goody two-shoes I expected this to offend her. In fact, I was counting on it. Instead, she wants to be the very first one in her class to sport, not the yellow livestrong or the pink breast cancer or the lame support our troops, but the black LIVEWRONG bracelet.
Maybe this is it. Maybe she's turned the corner and joined the family.
The thing is, we're proud as hell of her. She's kind, friendly, just made honor roll in her school.
But as we always say, we sort of planned on having Wednesday Addams. We wound up with Marilyn Munster.
But there's hope for for her yet, I think, to get in touch with her inner evil.
I know everyone's already seen this but I just spent half a day trying to remember where so just make sure I have a reference, plus to share it with those who've never seen it:
Just a note to let you know:
I already saw it.
That forward? I got it. I've gotten it. I do not wish to keep receiving it. I was neither moved nor inspired. It was neither clever nor funny. I was not amazed at the stupidity of that criminal, nor disgusted, appalled, and chagrined by the United States Government. I do not marvel at how inexpensive things used to be, nor am I astonished that kids today don't know about things that happened before they were born.
I was looking for something else entirely, and found this.
No idea who drew it but damn it makes me laugh.
This is from http://www.stickergiant.com, and what I was actualkly looking for was this:
This is deeply fucking strange.
Let's face it: any script kiddie with a pair of pliers can put Red Hat on a Compaq, his mom's toaster, or even the family dog. But nothing earns you geek points like installing Linux on a dead badger. So if you really want to earn your wizard hat, just read the following instructions, and soon your friends will think you're slick as caffeinated soap.
Minimum Installation Requirements:
1. one (1) pocketknife
2. one (1) screwdriver, flathead, to install Duppy card (see item 4. below)
3. computer with:
[ . . . . ]
- CD drive
- USB, Ethernet, or a free slot for wireless networking card
- Telnet or SSH client installed
- cyberspiritual controller program such as FleshGolem (Mac OS X and Linux), Phranken (Windows 98, ME, 2000), or ItzaLive (Mac OS 8.1-9.x and Amiga)
8. one (1) dead badger, good condition
Ok, so the exact obscure geek oddity of this will be lost on many. But it busts me up.
Suddenly almost all the females in my life are knitting.
I'm hoping this isn't what I'm getting for christmas.
I'm really, REALLY hoping that's not what I'm getting.
One of those stories you have to share.
This is a friend-of-a-friend sort of deal. Related as it was told to me, though I don't know the guys who had this conversation.
The cat's name isn't really Jim-Bob, obviously.
So I'm on the phone with Jim-Bob and he tells me he was just at the store, picking up some popcorn and stuff to make gin n' tonics, and that he was gonna go get a couple of videos.
Next day, I call him up, ask him what he's up to. He says he's watching a movie.
"And I drinking gin n' tonic and eating popcorn, right?" I say.
"Oh my god, dude, how do you know that? You can't have guessed it! What, are you outside my window? Oh fuck, HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?"
And you know, he wasn't kidding.
We're now saying "What, are you outside my window?" to mean "exactly what I was gonna say" or "Just what I was thinking." I'm still giggling about this story.
Man, these rule. And there are actually some good authors in there, or at least respected ones. I suspect I've actually read both the Philip Jose Farmer ones.
Now, I've always avoided writing sci-fi. I'm a huge sci-fi fan, with a vast library of sci-fi books, both pulp and good quality work. But as a writer it never much spoke to me to do, even as erotica.
But looking at these covers, I'm suddenly feeling a compulsion to write some sci-fi porno thing.
I'm sure the urge will pass before I actually do anything, but I'm thinking something Gernsback, something fifties, something like Forbidden Planet with silver form-fitting space suits.
Hmmm. I must think on this. I might actually get something entertaining out of it.
I'm a huge fan of whomever put this site together. Note that they're a non-profit site and are taking donations via PayPal to keep the site up, so if you like it as much as I do, slip 'em a couple bones.