We’ve seen what happens when Death takes a holiday. Now let’s check out Worth1000 and see what happens to the rest of us once he gets back to work.
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Category Archives: gross
The Dairy Continuum
Camel cheese does not relate to this in any way, shape or form; to repeat, this has nothing whatsoever to do with camel cheese.
Now, I’m not sure where this comes from. It could be something I vaguely remembered from a PJ O’Rourke book, from back when he was funny. That would put it in the mid Eighties, I think. Or it could be something I read in an Eighteenth Century French manuscript, or maybe Cotton Mather. Then again, perhaps cave inscriptions…who knows?
All I know is, dairy is immortal. It simply mutates into more expensive forms of dairy.
- Spoiled milk is buttermilk
- spoiled buttermilk is yogurt
- spoiled yogurt is cottage cheese
- spoiled cottage cheese is cream cheese
- spoiled cream cheese is … cheese
- spoiled cheese is … more expensive cheese
- and so on…
This makes total sense to me, if not to my clean-living roomie.
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the freakiest story I’m too tired to post
Seriously weird. Seriously, seriously freaky. Probably fake. “The one that got away” takes on new meaning in this tale of lost loves at sea…
Via (where else would you expect?) the Guardian’s Political Diary.
“Almost everybody in the fishing business has had sex with a manta at some point,” Makeburu asserts.
What!!! A manta??? You mean one of those enormous, intimidating winged things with a stinger on their tail that looks like an aquatic Batman?
Yep. After all, fisherman out on ships spend a loooonggg time at sea without ever encountering a woman, and, well, let’s face it, they can get pretty horny. No, dammit, let’s make that incredibly horny. Even desperate enough to do it with a manta. Right?
“Nah,” shrugs Makeburu. “Coastal fishermen poke them too.”
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I was bitten by a poisonous spider
and it died.
Think about that the next time you try to get in my face about … anything at all.
I’m just saying.
PS: so there are black widow spiders here in Vancouver. You learn something new every day, eh?
Give me my footie pjs, put on my cat; I have
Immortal longings in me: now no more
The juice of the Okanagan‘s grape shall moist this lip:
Yare, yare, good CG; quick. Methinks I hear
Viggo call; I see him rouse himself
To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
The luck of spammers, which the gods give men
To excuse their after wrath: baby, I come:
Now to that name my courage prove my title!
I am tentacles and marabou; my other elements
I give to baser life. So; have you done?
Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips.
Farewell, kind CG; blog readers, long farewell.
What, I’m still here? Damn, now what am I gonna do with this soliloquy? I h8 anticlimax!
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Photoessay o’ the Day: the Eight Phases of Goatse
I’m just going to assume you know what I’m talking about, because after all, we’re all adults on the internets and we have been around a turn or two, didn’t just fall off the novelty USB device truck, we’ve had it in the ear before.
So. Goatse And The Eight Phases Thereof: a photoessay
A phenomenon known as “goatse” has taken the internet by storm, in what has become the fad from hell that just won’t die. Don’t know what goatse is? It’s a picture, go look it up, can’t miss it. Unfortunately, no one can be told what the goatse is…you must see it for yourself….
And when you do…
Phase 1: Shock
“OMGWTF!” *MINIMIZE……*
all the way to:
Phase 7: Enchantment
“Only on teh intranet! What a delight!”
And beyond!
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raincoaster 