Oh, of COURSE. I’m not a Jewish NYC hunk, except apparently mentally, but this totally works for me.
You Are The Daily Show |
 You are well informed and very up to the minute on current events. And you sometimes just have to laugh at the world. Your sense of humor is very sarcastic and mocking. You can’t believe these crazy times we live in. Sometimes people can’t tell if you’re joking or not, and who really cares?The things you say can be quite profound, even if they are also hilarious. |
OCTOPI, the number of the Beast
Now, divide by zero and join in a rousing chorus of HAIL CTHULHU!
On Tumblr, this post has been reblogged 1607 times. Let’s see how WordPress.com does in comparison. My bet? Less than 1% as many; in fact, my bet is zero reblogs.
A (very) graphic novel in three chapters.
Linus and Sally wait for the great pumpkin.
Waiting for the Great Pumpkin, by Samuel Beckett
They wait eternally, in vain. Why? I think I know…
Meerkats attack the Great Pumpkin! and his kin! Fucking Meerkats.
Linus, the Everyman, waits for the Great Pumpkin still. He waits in vain, forever.
THEY have taken Him.
Meerluk the Marauder revels in his bloody triumph
Paul the Octopus had his troubles with the paparazzi
Oh, Paul, we hardly knew ye. Let’s toast the Great One‘s memory with an Octopus’s Garden (otherwise known as an un-dry 3:1 Gin Martini with an Octopus and Olive garnish) and join in a rousing chorus of “Paul the Octopus.”
Before the World Cup, Paul’s powers were already known in Germany because he had correctly predicted four out of Germany’s five matches in the 2008 European Championship. But his clean sheet this year has made him immortal.
He helped to make the World Cup memorable. Just like everyone will remember the 2006 tournament in Germany for Zinedine Zidane’s astounding head butt, and the 1986 one in Mexico for Maradona’s “Hand of God” goal against England, South Africa will forever be associated with an octopus.
If he really was born in 2008, then Paul was nearing the end of his natural life. Octopuses only live three years on average and he was never going to be around for the next European Championship in 2012, let alone the World Cup in Brazil in 2014.But here is some comfort for football fans. “Behind the scenes, a young Paul is already acclimatizing himself, he was meant to be trained by Paul the First in the coming weeks,” aquarium officials said.
Fellow sea creatures will also benefit from his immortality in future. Oberhausen said it plans to donate some of its income from the sale of commercial rights relating to Paul — he adorns a clothes brand and adverts for a supermarket chain, for example — to help finance a rescue station for endangered turtles on the Greek island of Zakynthos.
In related news, file this necronautical cephalopod under “People who have (or had) way better jobs than you.” According to PopBitch, he was getting $80,000 per appearance at the time he died. In fact, he’s got a better job than Lindsay Lohan even though he’s dead: she lost her clothing line, and he’s still got his!
In related to related news, ain’t no way Germans are as smart as Wiartonians; when Wiarton Willie died, Wiarton just hushed it up in best Small Town Shirley Jackson Unspeakable Truth fashion and got themselves a new albino groundhog on the black albino groundhog market. If Germany had gone out and gotten a new octopsychic, very few people on the planet would have known the difference. I’m just sayin’, next time they should hire me as their cephalostrategic consultant.
In related to related to related news, who really thinks that a nine-year-old, healthy, coddled octopus with no prior history of ill-health suddenly kicks the bukkit? Not me, and probably not you either, if you’re a smartie, and I think you are because: look! you’re here! Do I sense the sneaky padding of meerkat paws behind the assassination? Did they test Pulpo Paul for Polonium?
It hasn't begun till the unicorn sings
So it’s a little later than Wednesday this week; still, you can always use a good unicorn chaser, can you not? And what could be perkier, happier, or more charming than the B-52’s singing the theme song of every blogger I know, Deadbeat Club?
I once had a Facebook group called that, for the purpose of hosting FNFF, short for Friday Night Fuck Fest, but consisting of people who generally have nothing better to do on a Friday night than sit at the computer, drinking, and commenting on other people’s websites. Which actually isn’t a bad way to spend a Friday night, if you have half a bottle of something decent, a good connection, and time on your hands. Now that I don’t have an office, even a home office, anymore, those days are behind me. I swear, I’m paying so damn much for inferior coffee every damn day that I might as well just rent an office; it’d be cheaper.
Hence this choice of Unicorn Chaser.
It should also be noted that, after several years’ quest, I finally have that leopard coat. I do not, however, have the huge ’60’s eyes, but it’s on my wish list for the next life.
Deadbeat Club
I was good, I could talk
A mile a minute,
On this caffeine buzz I was on
We were really hummin’
We would talk every day for hours
We belong to the deadbeat club
Anyway we can,
We’re gonna find something
We’ll dance in the garden
In torn sheets in the rain
We’re the deadbeat club
We’re the deadbeat club
Going down to Allen’s for
A twenty-five cent beer
And the jukebox playing real loud,
“Ninety-six tears”
We’re wild girls walkin’ down the street
Wild girls and boys going out for a big time
Let’s go crash that party down
In Normaltown tonight
Then we’ll go skinny-dippin’
In the moonlight
We’re wild girls walkin’ down the street
Wild girls and boys going out for a big time
Anyway we can
We’re gonna find something
We’ll dance in the garden
In torn sheets in the rain
Chorus
Oh no! Here they come
The members of the deadbeat club
raincoaster 