Category Archives: Humour

Why I Hate Mother’s Day

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Batman on Mother's Day

via TheDailyWhat

Amen to that, My Favorite Comic Book Hero, and don’t forget all the “heartwarming” forwarded emails with dancing bunny gifs. I always feel like responding with, “Your email was so moving, it made me cry. And remember the few years my mother and I had together before SHE WAS CRUELLY AND PAINFULLY TAKEN FROM HER CHILDREN.”

The only plus side to Mother’s Day is the perfume deals, which I managed to miss entirely this year, having spent mother’s day either in the hospital getting checked out or at home asleep. Mind you, the view was not half bad at the hospital, thanks to all the weekend rugby warriors in with sprains, etc. The one with his face split open from a kick was particularly handsome…

Okay, so I have unusual tastes. Sue me.

Adventures into Darkness, horror stories

Image via Wikipedia

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Cthulhu wants you to stay in school

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Sense and Sensibility and SeaMonsters and Regency Period Tentacle Porn

And just why does Cthulhu want you to stay in school? So you can read awesome books like Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters. Promotional book video below (yes, books come with videos nowadays, I guess so they can still appeal to the illiterates out there who can’t watch tv without moving their lips):

To say I was skeptical of the merits of this tome would be to understate the case to a positively perjorrific extent, and when I picked it up at the bookstore what actually ended up selling it wasn’t the book; it wasn’t even the premise, although with me anything with tentacles is a pretty safe bet.

It was the po-faced study questions in the back. I wish I had it handy, so I could type out the best bits, but here’s my absolute favorite:

10. Is Monsieur Pierre a symbol for something? Name three other well-known works of Western literature that feature orangutan valets. Are those characters also slain by pirates?

I always HATE the part in the comedy of manners when the ourangutan valet is slain by pirates. I mean, you know it’s coming, right? But what can you do about it, right? Nothing; amirite?

He also wants you to stay in school so that once it’s finished (oh, doesn’t everyone have a book they’re working on, destined to be put aside and picked up as the eons pass and never, ever finished?) you can read His autobiography, as told to Neil Gaiman.

I never knew my parents.

My father was consumed by my mother as soon as he had fertilized her and she, in her turn, was eaten by myself at my birth. That is my first memory, as it happens. Squirming my way out of my mother, the gamy taste of her still in my tentacles.

Don’t look so shocked, Whateley. I find you humans just as revolting.

Which reminds me, did they remember to feed the shoggoth? I thought I heard it gibbering.

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I am still hungover, so here is an antique dancing pig movie

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via filledwithchocolatepudding

Enjoy?if you can. Watch to the very end to be completely freaked the fuck right out. I mean, a lecherous pig dancing with a flirtatious maiden is one thing; an expressive lecherous pig who dances with a flirtatious maiden is quite another.

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Welcome to New York, Ahmadinejad

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Mahmoud Ahmadinejad Totally Looks Like Jake Gyllenhaal
can not be unseen!

The NYC visit of the President of Iran is as good an excuse as we need to re-post this video. View it quick, before Lorne Michael’s little trolls pry it from the internet’s sadly un-tenacious grasp.

IRan So Far

Lyrics via JustJared

They say true love comes only once in a lifetime

And even though we’re from opposite ends of the earth

My heart tells me you’re the one for me

Mahmoud, I remember when it started, saw you on the news

You hating gays, I was eating food

I was feeling you, and even though I disagree with almost everything you said

You ain’t wrong to me, so strong to me, you belong to me

Like a very hairy Jake Gyllenhaal to me

Mahmoud, make my heart beating out of my chest

my mind says no but my body says yes

You ain’t no threat, the only threat I see, is the threat of you not coming home to me

Our love for each other is like when atoms collide

Can’t express how I feel, and yo Adam let’s ride

And Iran, Iran so far away is your home, but in my heart you’ll stay

He ran, for the president of Iran

We ran together to a tropical island

My man, Mahmoud is known for violence

Smiling, if he can still do it then I can

They call you weasel, they say your methods are medieval

You can play the Jews, I can be your Jim Caviezel

S&M, (?) when we’re wrestlin’

You can be the port that I put my vessel in

So I try to (?) but you can still see me

With your sleepy brown eyes, butter pecan thighs

And your hairy butt… Yeah.

And Iran, Iran so far away

Come home, and in my arms you’ll stay

Used to look at the stars and dream

Around the world the same stars we’re seeing

And a twinkle in your eyes Mahmoud

Talk smooth to me, in the night sky

With you pants high waisted, damn so fly

We can take a trip to the animal zoo

And laugh at all the funny things that animals do

Like Eugene, you got me straight trippin’ boo

Hope you look at my eyes and say I’m trippin’ too

You say (?) but they already do

You should know by now, it’s you

You crazy for this world Mahmoud

So give us another Holocaust all you want

But you can’t deny that there’s something between us

I know you say there’s no gays in Iran

But you’re in New York now baby

So time to stop hating and start living

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Punk your ‘Puter!

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funny pictures of cats with captions

Which reminds me of my old friend Mark. I don’t know what Mark is doing for a living right now, but he used to be a building design engineer, a professional driver, a rally judge, and on the executive of the Mini association back before the Mini had a renaissance. He lost his gig as a rally driver when he ruled a team had won because they crossed the finish line first even though they did it on their roof, not on their wheels; the association thought he could use a little “time out.”

Mark is the man Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes grew up to become.

What he really should be is a professional talkshow guest. He has more outrageous stories than your whole bookcase even if it has a complete collection of Baron Munchausen, and as his sister once said to me, the most annoying thing about them is that they’re all true. The one about using a giant pine tree as a slingshot to shoot his friend through a third-story window, nearly causing a fatal cardiac infarction in said friend’s mother, who was in the room, making the bed at the time? True. The one about betting kids a quarter they wouldn’t jump into a hole in the ice he made with an axe in the middle of the Canadian winter? True (best four dollars of entertainment I ever spent, he said). The one about the guy vansurfing and getting slingshotted right off the top of the van by a “welcome rally competitors” banner hung across Main Street? True. The one about the Lambo that’s too long to tell here but awesome? True, and you can ask the police of Washington and Oregon about that, though it’s best to have a lawyer with you when you do.

But the best Mark story dates back to the time nearly 20 years ago, when Macs were new and Nexts were yet to be, and a Maccer had to virtually razorwire his cubicle to protect the Sacred Box. Mark was, you may imagine, something of a prankster, as well as quite possessive; he set up a “fail-proof” defence system. Did it fail? Well, yes and no, depending on whether you think getting woken up at 2 in the morning is a failure or a win.

It is 2am.

The phone rings.

It is a coworker, gibbering desperately, “I’m sorry, I’M SORRY OKAY? HOW DO I TURN IT OFF?”

What had Mark done? Simply set his computer so that, unless while shutting it down you entered a particular key sequence, it would warn you with “Don’t do that, Dave” then go dark for a few seconds, then come back to life and say, “I told you not to do that, Dave.” Over. And Over. And Over.

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