I hate Appointments…and the reminder phonecalls, don’t get me started!
Oh god, that is the worst. Amirite?
I hate when that happens
Category Archives: Weird
Aquatic Dragon Sighted!
Aquatic Dragon off the coast of Victoria
What a day for nature lovers! Classic Rock radio 101 has reported the sighting of a rare Aquatic Dragon off the coast of Victoria, BC! Praise Cthulhu, we thought they had been hunted to extinction, along with their distant cousins, the Pacific Tree Octopus. This amazing creature, nearly 100m from its savagely curved beak to its tippiest tentacle, once blotted out the skies in its annual migrations from the Arctic plateaus to a still-undiscovered location somewhere in the South Pacific. Such were its numbers, and its fierce fighting ability, that it seemed unthinkable the species could ever be threatened.
That was, of course, before the advent of aircraft. Their soft, boneless bodies proved no match for slashing propellers and insatiable jet intakes, and for a generation or more the skies were greasy with carnage. You think you know how calamari was invented? Let me tell you, it was the act of a hardscrabble wartime population desperate for protein of any kind. When the planes flew overhead, housewives would run into the streets with buckets to catch the crudely hacked pieces of Aquatic Dragon that fell in a slimy torrent from the skies.
And soon, all too soon, it was all over.
WWII had done irreparable damage to the breeding population, and it is believed that nuclear tests in the South Pacific may have destroyed their traditional wintering grounds, leaving them with an unsustainable, nomadic, and doomed few survivors. This latest discovery is heartening in the extreme, for this juvenile specimen attests to the atavistic survival of at least two healthy Aquatic Dragons somewhere off the coast of Vancouver Island. My old alma mater, Miskatonic University, is gathering specialists in marine biology and herpetology to undertake an expedition in search of the creatures.
Hey, what could go wrong?
Like this:
How to Do ANYTHING Better on 4/20
420 Vancouver by gillicious
Yes, it’s a civic holiday in Vangroover (not really, but yeah) and there’s a distinct likelihood that several, if not even plenty of my readers, yes, we can see you out there, you left the webcam on and your eyeballs look like piss holes in the snow, may be somewhat affected by, shall we say, hyperlocal atmospheric conditions.
So, in the spirit of serviceyness, we present a couple of handy-dandy guides that will help you pretend not to be completely fucked up.
First up, Mowing Your Lawn on PCP:
Great! Don’t you feel productive now? But the night is still young, so don’t stop the buzz now! Grab a bottle of some refreshing liquid and follow along with Jenna Marbles as she shows you how to do makeup drunk.
And now Hannah from My Drunk Kitchen shows you How to Make Poutine, which you will want if you got baked, yourself:
She should definitely NOT have licked up the gravy that dissolved the dust from Burning Man and washed it down with a Caesar. She was only drunk before: now she’s a bad case of All Of The Above.
One thing that should not be attempted under the influence: singing in the car. If you’re the driver, you shouldn’t be messed up, and if you’re not the driver, you’re annoying the driver. Besides, no matter how awesome you think you are, you aren’t as awesome as this guy (yes, more Canadian Content; we’re just that much better at being drunk/stoned than you are):
And, no matter how awesome you think you are, even if you are sober and your audience is completely shitfaced, you will never be as good as Nicki Bluhm and The Gramblers, who use their van as a recording booth while tootling around San Francisco belting out cover tunes.
You’re welcome.
Like this:
The Easter Bunny: an emo bio
Happy Easter, Kids! You will be eaten first. Should we start with the ears?
Did you ever wonder what motivates the great metaphysical characters of Western civilization? What drives the Tooth Fairy to make his/her nightly rounds, exchanging discarded pieces of human skulls for cold, hard cash? Is Santa a slave to the whims of children worldwide, or is he working some grand master plan? And what are we to make of a bunny who lays chocolate eggs? What kind of creepy Pon-Farr-ish motivation or downmarket chemical stimulus drives him to his zygote-scattering frenzy?
Now we know.
Like this:
Why it’s called “Meatspace”
Oh, Elsie is in for a rude shock
Have you noticed that we have no difficulty believing we are spiritual beings, but we simply cannot wrap our heads around the actually demonstrable fact that we are, in fact, made of meat? Why, even on this very blog, we’ve had suggested wine pairings for cannibals, whom we have also covered. Repeatedly, in fact. We’ve even covered fake me-meat, as well as munch-by-munch reports of ursine-sapien dining and a scientific investigation into just how Modest a Proposal Jonathan Swift‘s little suggestion really was.
Well, it’s time for a refresher. We are nothing but wetware in meatspace, and even the aliens abducting and probing us, anal fissures first, find it distasteful. Observe:
Close observers will observe the observer observing them observing us; he is the Venusian Martian from the original 1961 Twilight Zone episode, Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up;
I for one am relieved he got away. And more relieved not to have the gory details.
