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Archive for April, 2011

I had to wrestle with the title of the post for more than ten seconds before deciding to do it.

I don’t normally post stuff like boob bombs or the penis award.  But there’s always a first time (most things anyway, and there are a lot of exceptions).

Yesterday’s post involved a side project for an award for c.monster over at Soylent Green.  Please do feel free to read yesterday’s post for I shan’t repeat the story here.

Defintely NSFW, but the warning would come too late if I had put the page in-line with the posting, so I didn’t.  Instead you can follow this link TO AN NSFW GRAPHIC of  (in deep exaggerated baritone voice)

THE IRON PENIS AWARD

You have been warned.

Feel free to give feedback – it is critical feedback that makes things better.

Update:  I gather that the response was positive

Update #2:  I wouldn’t have thought I could possibly view a picture as pathetic as this.  Jar-jar Binks has more charisma.

Update #3:  This cat has my permission to boil that turtle in oil.  (h/t to Laura at Fetch My Flying Monkeys – Now with more goat)

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Proposed Badge

Okay.  So c.monster over at Soylent asked me what my vision would be for an award he has been given.  Click for a NSFW picture post.

The award?   (in a booming loud baritone voice)

The Iron Penis Award

So, like… wow.  Now, I’ve known c.monster for a while now and it would be hard to turn him down when he’d been given a cool award for tasteful imagery, but I wasn’t sure just what to do.

When I did the Boob Bomb pic to see if veeshir could be enticed back (he’s triple-secret boycotting me now, it appears) I had to do a lot of distasteful searching on Google for boobs.  I had to find the perfect one and CW would not model for the pic.  So I sacrificed to come through on that image.  I looked at literally thousands of boobs.

But somehow, I just wasn’t as interested in taking one for the team when it came to looking at lots of pics of penises.

So I said to myself “Self, what does one look like?”

And I answered myself by saying “Well, Self, if only we knew of someone who has one, and perhaps he might be able to help us.”

And that’s where I came in.  I was indeed an owner of such equipment and I was able to help myself in this endeavor.

Can this get any more awkward?

So drawing upon my vast experience with original-owner genuine junk, I set out to do a line art version, one that would be stylized and not a ‘shopped photo, which had all the appeal of a drooling skunk.

Cruel Wife took a look and said “Yep, that is unmistakable, and if Girlhead sees it, you can tell her it is a chinese mushroom.”

The graphic is not a picture of my junk, ok?  I just went for the stereotypical imagery and a size ratio that fit the effect I was going for.

My this is awkward, isn’t it?

The graphic may change, depending on what c.monster says he likes or doesn’t like.  It is his award after all.


Update:  Ditch the lettering.  Chrome it up.   I can do those.  Tomorrow night.

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Guy steals milk.  Okay.  Guy steals milk while dressed as a cow.  What?  Oh… ok…  Guy steals milk dressed as a cow then runs from the police.  Okay, I guess.  Guy steals milk while dressed as a cow and tries to elude the cops by skipping away.

Oh yeah, way to blend into the crowd.

Can you see the cop trying to get assistance?

“Dispatch, we have a white and black bovine, approximate 5’10” tall, last seen skipping away from the Piggley Wiggley and heading north on Alfalfa Street.  Suspect is teated and presumed dangerous, possibly insane.  Wanted on suspicion of grand theft lactose.”

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Heard about this on the way to work this morning and I gagged up three kittens.  I don’t even eat kittens and I horked up a few.

Superman renouncing his American citizenship.    Great, now even childhood heroes are portrayed as cool if they ditch their country.  Great.

It’s posted all over the place, I know.  But what you won’t read anywhere else is that Superman is she-male and eats bunnies live.

No, he doesn’t do that.  But the very notion of Supes not being American makes me sad and ill at the same time.  He used to be my favorite comic-book hero, alongside Green Arrow and the Hulk.

More later…

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Well, Beasley-Allen (law firm full of weasels, but I repeat myself) dropped it’s suit against Taco Bell.

Hurray!  Waytogo Taco Bell!

[after] changes in marketing and product disclosure were made…  (source: Fox News)

I am not 100% sure but I think that means “We found we didn’t have a leg to stand on and the judge said ‘You can walk or I’ll spank you and then send you packing'”.  Do I have that about right?

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You might have seen my last posting and comments to it where my daughter innocently said something that she heard me say and I cringed.  It sounded funny coming out of my mouth.  Out of hers?  It made me cringe.

Well, take a read about this lady’s conversation with her daughter about the birds, the bees, and permutations thereof… rather insightful in an innocent way.  But the mom had to be squirming once she set foot down a certain path.  Frankly I would have backed the B&B truck up and said “Hokay, you’re old enough to ask the question I’ll give you as much truth as you can stomach.”

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Zombie-Proof Homes!  I know what my next home will be!  It has windows, they’re just hidden under the concrete window covers.  Big Bird couldn’t take a window out w/o breaking his neck.

The walkway on the left is a drawbridge and is the only way in once you button the place up – and it can be raised.  I’m emotionally erect.

… … … wow.

Ok, along the lines of zombies…  This review was on Amazon.com for “John Dies @ the End”.

In this reissue of an Internet phenomenon originally slapped between two covers in 2007 by indie Permutus Press, Wong—Cracked.com editor Jason Pargin’s alter ego—adroitly spoofs the horror genre while simultaneously offering up a genuinely horrifying story. The terror is rooted in a substance known as soy sauce, a paranormal psychoactive that opens video store clerk Wong’s—and his penis-obsessed friend John’s—minds to higher levels of consciousness. Or is it just hell seeping into the unnamed Midwestern town where Wong and the others live? Meat monsters, wig-wearing scorpion aberrations and wingless white flies that burrow into human skin threaten to kill Wong and his crew before infesting the rest of the world. A multidimensional plot unfolds as the unlikely heroes drink lots of beer and battle the paradoxes of time and space, as well as the clichés of first-person-shooter video games and fantasy gore films. Sure to please the Fangoria set while appealing to a wider audience, the book’s smart take on fear manages to tap into readers’ existential dread on one page, then have them laughing the next.  – Publisher’s Weekly

Ok, so there are no zombies in it at all, but **wah-heyyyyy**, sounds pretty good to me.  I just used zombies as a lead-in.  Worked, didn’t it?

John Dies at the End…[is] a case of the author trying to depict actual, soul-sucking lunacy, and succeeding with flying colors. –Fangoria

Hot damn!  Soul-sucking lunacy?  Can they overnight it?

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I’ve remarked on this before but this is just a no-win situation.

If you agree all the time, you’re not being true to self.  If you disagree with someone, you’re a racist.  Either way you’re probably a racist and may not even know it.

It’s almost a certainty you’re a racist so just admit it.

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Shelter that Snowflake.

Update:   Sent to me by ID10T Killer.  I cannot possibly imagine how you could get geekier than building an ALU using MineCraft.   That doesn’t mean “bad”, it just means “you don’t get very many dates, do you?”

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Just how much of a sad sack of sh*t do you need to be to think that your kid needs a “no-hit pinata”
?

Me, I’m going to get my kids a harp-seal pinata, furred with real harp-seal fur.

This was originally over at Tacky Raccoons (Bunk Strutts).

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In a million years I could not stress enough how badly I need #5, The Walking Harvester, aka the Tree-Eating Robo-Spider

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Seanbaby over at Cracked.com put up a piece listing sex advice books… Page 2 is something else.  Definitely adult-oriented.  Funny as hell.

4 Great Sex Advice Books for People Who Hate Sex

#4 looks like a good way to die of a brain aneurysm, and I don’t mean the good kind.

7 Sex Tips from Cosmo That Will Put You in the Hospital

Ah, what the hell.  We’re on “Sex” tonight so let’s talk about “forbidden love”.
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And making paper out of elephant poop is a green thing to do… how?
…environmentally conscious company…
[snip]
After the poo is gathered, Flancman said it’s carefully rinsed with water, leaving only the fibrous materials from the grasses, bamboo and fruits the elephants have eaten but couldn’t digest.
Then… those fibers are thrown into a giant pot of boiling water to ensure an even more thorough cleansing and sterilization, leaving the fibers primed and ready to be made into paper.Once additional fibers from pineapple plants and trees are thrown into the all-natural mix to add thickness, [the] team separates the moist pulp into small cakes that are then spread over a mesh-bottomed tray and left out to dry naturally under the sun for several hours.Once dry, the cakes transform into sheets of paper, and Flancman and his crew are able to peel them off the tray and start making Poo Poo Paper products.

He said this tedious handmade process is repeated often, and in the end, the paper comes out sturdy and oatmeal-colored without a hint of stinkiness.

Oh!  They are allowed to dry naturally, which makes this a green process.  Right.  Got it.
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I made an awful, awful, awful mistake a month or so ago.  I like to cook and I made fresh mashed spuds using red potatoes.  My favorite, next to Yukon Golds.  So anyway, I slop some on my daughter’s plate, add a pat of butter, and a dollop of gravy from a pork roast on top.
Looking at Cruel Wife I said with a grin “There you go, girl, a ‘Volcano of Love’.”
More later…
Now, that didn’t sound NEARLY as obscene when I said it as when my daughter said tonight after finishing her mashed potatoes:
“Dad, I want another ‘Volcano of Love’.”
I looked at my wife, and she had the most evil grin on her face – the kind of evil grin that turns your bones gelatinous and makes your skin just wetly slough off and pile up on the floor.
I’m going to need a whole lot of serious therapy.

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I’ve been playing Portal 2.  Impeccable game.  Absolutely top-notch and worth every single penny if you had to dig in public hotel and restaurant couches for six weeks to scrape up the cash.

All right, I’ve been thinking. When life gives you lemons, don’t make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back.

GET MAD! I DON’T WANT YOUR DAMN LEMONS! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THESE?!

DEMAND TO SEE LIFE’S MANAGER! Make life RUE the day it thought it could give CAVE JOHNSON LEMONS!

DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! I’M THE MAN WHO’S GONNA BURN YOUR HOUSE DOWN! WITH THE LEMONS! I’m gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that’s gonna BURN YOUR HOUSE DOWN!

Cave Johnson, Portal 2

I hesitate to include the next link.  If you are a person who doesn’t like spoilers (it only kind of does) then don’t watch it.  Ignore the purple elephant.  Just don’t think about it.

But the tune and lyrics and singing… they just stick in your brain and don’t go away.  I’ve had it in my head for three and a half hours now.

Aperture Science

We do what we must

because we can.


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Last night Cruel Wife said we can fly the chopper again!  Hee hee!  No, that’s not a euphemism.  I’m talking Battlefield 2.

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My “guy parts” are up near my collarbones in sympathy.  Keep watching until the replay at the end.  That poor bastard.  It’s moments like that where a person really does wish to just be shot so they can forego the experience.


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It’s a good time of the year – Easter Sunday tomorrow.

Have these types of celebrations ever been in vogue around the world?  Would have been cool.

If we lived in Hungary, we might be celebrating Easter by getting buckets of water dumped on us. “The watering of the girls” is a fertility ritual where girls dress in traditional garb and men pour buckets of water on them as they pass.

Well, that sounds pretty interesting.

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Immediately thought “Oh, burned coffee – must be about Starbucks.”

Nope.  But it was still burned coffee, just like Starbucks.

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What economic recovery?  Has anyone on the ground actually seen a ****ing economic recovery?

Economic recovery prompts US divorce rebound

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Civet coffee is nothing new.  But this is an interesting way to put it.

Apparently, enzymes and other chemicals in the animal’s digestive tract react with the protein in the beans, eliminating much of the bitterness present in most coffees and creating a highly appealing flavor, despite how it came to pass.

At $300 per pound, that better be a fine enzyme-producing-cat-crapped cup o’ beans.

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On Fark this was titled “Man shot in head with potato gun is lucky an eye wasn’t put out“.

I’ve seen a potato fired at a cinder-block wall get reduced to a starchy vapor.  Potato guns could kill you easily.

The 24-year-old man was camping with friends in Gurnang State Forest, south of Oberon, when a potato gun discharged…

Yeah, they were sitting around the fire, toasting marshmallows when suddenly this dude’s potato gun that was leaning up against a tree just fell over and, like, went off, dudes.

Sorry but potato guns discharge because someone discharged them, so really the story should read “The 24 year-old man was hanging out with his buddies and doing stupid things when his head was somehow put between the end of the barrel and the spot where the potato wanted to go, and got clobbered by the tuber.”

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I can no longer deny that we are a country that is home to enough stupid people (evidence follows) that the last presidential election is not only easily understandable but almost a foregone conclusion.

The longtime treasurer of the Salvation Army in Barnes County has quit after being told not to serve free food to contractors who built up the city’s dikes in response to near-record Sheyenne River flooding.

Mayor Bob Werkhoven said in a statement that the city needs to focus on flood-fighting and that the food dispute is “a non-issue for both the city and the Salvation Army.”

Lori Jury said restaurant owners wanted construction workers’ business, leading her superiors to tell her to stop food deliveries, even during hours the restaurants weren’t open.

“All I wanted to do was feed some hungry men who are working hard to save our community,” Jury, who had been treasurer for 16 years, told the Times-Record newspaper. “I never dreamt it would come to this.

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I can’t help it.  I go back and re-read this any time I need an instant genuine laugh.

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I understand the argument about medical treatment being something you can’t not give to prisoners.  But there’s medical treatment and there’s also giving criminals organ transplants that could be saving someone’s life on the outside.

“The policy is pretty simple: We are constitutionally obligated to provide health-care services to the inmates,” said Peter Cutler, a spokesman for the state Departmentof Correctional Services. “They basically receive the community standard of care.”    Read more: http://www.foxnews.com/us/2011/04/23/ny-taxpayers-pay-big-heart-transplant-convicted-rapist

Giving them care doesn’t necessarily mean you have to give them a heart transplant.  Treatment can be palliative and not necessarily curative (if a transplant can be considered such).  So not giving them a heart transplant doesn’t mean they didn’t get treatment.

I don’t know – but giving a criminal a taxpayer-funded organ transplant while serving a sentence, which is also taxpayer-funded, while some poor bastard is in hock up to his eyeballs so his kid or wife could have one… there’s something wrong there.

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