Thursday, March 31, 2005

Somebody's Making a Big-Ass Salad in Heaven!

Sure, I don't believe in Heaven, but somebody somewhere must have needed a whole lot of vegetable to put in a salad because Terri Schiavo is finally dead. Maybe it's insensitive to say 'finally' because she was a human being, but she hasn't actually been a human being for over 15 years. She was a heartbeat with googly eyes that her parents called their daughter. My dog died a couple of years ago, but I'll bet I could have paid a whole lot of money to keep that dog alive for a few years. Sure, the dog would have been miserable and wanting to die, but at least I still had my dog. And that's what's important: what I want.

Anyway, in a dramatic turn of events, it turns out that the Pope is dying. Some people say it's because the Pope's urinary tract is infected and everybody knows that if the Pope's penis ain't working, he may as well die. Personally, though, I think that it's because he was spiritually linked with Terri Schiavo like Bastian and Atreyu in The Neverending Story. Keep your eyes peeled for flying dragons scaring kids into dumpsters.

In news of a death that actually makes me sad, comedian Mitch Hedberg died yesterday. If you don't know any of his comedy, you're missing out. Look him up somewhere and go out and buy a CD or two of his. The thing about his death, though, is that a lot of people thought that it may be a hoax. Dying as a comedian must be tough because, naturally, people may think that you're kidding. There are only a couple other professions where people don't think you're actually dead if somebody says that you are: FBI Agent, Paul McCartney, and magician. Well, also if you're wrestling with somebody and you go limp because you want to scare them. But people don't usually do that as a profession.

Interesting thought of the day:
"When someone hands you a flier, it's like they're saying, 'Here you throw this away.'" Mitch Hedberg

Monday, March 21, 2005

The Tortoise and the Rye!

In news that is sure to set off the battle of the Century, a shop owner has found that an image of Satan has appeared on a turtle's shell. The aforementioned turtle is the only survivor of a pet shop fire. Where's Peewee Herman when you need him? Snakes!!

Now the table has been set. This turtle will face off in a pay-per-view steel-cage match against that grilled-cheese sandwich with the Virgin Mary on it for control of the Universe--or the remote control.

I don't quite understand why people think that these images of religious figures appear everywhere. I mean, when I was a kid, in the bathroom on the tile I could have sworn that there was an image of a scary fat man looking up at me while I squeezed out Spelling Bee-tension-induced diarrhea, but, even at 11 years old, I wasn't dumb enough to actually believe that the spirit of a fat man was in my bathroom.

Even now, if I squint my eyes just a little bit, there's a stain on one of my pants that looks exactly like the ghost of John Matuszak (Sloth in Goonies), but you rarely hear me yelling "Baby Ruth" at my pants.

People's faith makes them believe a lot of silly things. Some people think a guy fit two of every animal on a boat, others think Redneck comedy is funny. Coincidentally, there is a lot of crossover between these two groups. As a matter of fact, if somebody made a Venn diagram of these two groups, it would just be one big-ass circle.

Interesting thought of the day:
It is almost never cool to let your girlfriend's mother know that when you get an erection you yell out, "By the power of Greyskull!"

Thursday, March 17, 2005

Guns Everywhere Rejoice!

Wednesday, Robert Blake, a guy who played a character named after a gun, was found not guilty of killing his wife with a gun by using the excuse that he couldn't have shot her, he was too busy going to get his gun. Michael Jackson is expected to use this sort of defense when he takes the Witness Stand.

"Your Honor, there is no way I could have touched that boy's wiener, I was too busy blowing Haley Joel Osment."

Robert Blake, however, was found guilty on one count of "having the worst alibi in history, but it doesn't matter because the world is better now that his wife is dead."

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

To Not Kill a Mockingbird!

A story in the hard-hitting Disneyland Report, says that the FCC has declared the Monday Night Football ad featuring Terrell Owens (a dark) and Nicollette Sheridan (a white) as "not indecent." They also came to the conclusion that salad was "not unhealthy," and that puppies were "not not cute."

In a separate story, The Disneyland Report says that 211 fairies were killed last year because kids stopped believing in them, 195 of them were brought back to life from applause, 87 of these were then subject to death by magnifying glass and/or salt inundation, 1 rape.

Interesting thought of the day:
I hate saying words like 'lisps,' 'wasps,' 'gasps,' and other words like them because it always makes me feel like I'm telling somebody a secret. Especially when I'm telling them about the stereotypically gay flying insect that shocked me when it stung me. It's like a sewing circle, except it's me crying at the doctor's office hoping I'll get a lollipop.

Saturday, March 12, 2005

Pray for Me!

I have decided to see just how far-reaching my influence has become and, I'm happy to report, that a boy in Georgia thinks that I'm a sign of the impending End of Days. would be an awesome porno weblog name, but it's rather disappointing to find out that it's about Armageddon (and not even the shitty Ben Affleck movie--yes THE shitty Ben Affleck movie).

I'm not sure quite how he found my site, but he references it along with some others and directly links to this article about My Tivo Thinks I Hate Jesus. I'm guessing that he googled "I hate Jesus" and Tivo because, otherwise, it's really not going to come up. I am pretty proud, though, that mine is the first entry when you put in those terms.

The actual thing he wrote can be found here. I don't think he's calling me a False Prophet, but he's just worried about me and this guy along with a few others and wants people to pray for us. I'd like to think that the other guy I listed is a little more hardcore than I am. I was just writing something about how my Tivo was recording Jesus shows for me and I didn't want it to, but this other guy not only hates Jesus, religion, and George W. Bush, but he also hates coherent web page formatting. His website looks like that room Russell Crowe ran away to in A Beautiful Mind, but is a little less easy to understand.

I'm actually pretty excited that this guy found what I wrote so disturbing that he decided that he must get all his zero followers to pray for me. I think he prayed for me the other night because there was a sharp burning in my chest and I felt like I was going to die. I awoke from my coffin and had to drink a pint of warm goat's blood in order to get back to sleep.

Like I was telling a friend of mine yesterday, the only reason that people think that the End of the World is coming is in order to make themselves feel important.

"Dude, the fucking world ended while I was alive!"

Okay, they probably wouldn't say 'fucking,' but they also probably wouldn't be saying the rest of that sentence because it's not going to happen. The idea of the Rapture, where people are taken up into the sky to join God in Heaven where they get to play checkers with Hitler for eternity (or something like that), is far-fetched even for the Bible--and that has a woman turning into a pillar of salt, and a guy putting two of each animal on an innertube and riding backwards down a waterslide. Admittedly, I may be screwing some things up in these stories.

I actually just feel bad for the kid because he's going to be so sad in 70 years when he's dying of robot prostate cancer from eating too many Space Burgers and the world will not have ended with him being lifted into the sky and me being left to fight the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse with my Phaser and Microsoft Teleporting Machine. But, by then, he could always use his Delorean to go back in time and talk to Jesus himself and find out that it's all bullshit.

Interesting thought of the day:
If I had to, and was stuck in the middle of the ocean, I could tame and ride a shark to safety.

Monday, March 07, 2005

Apes Go Themselves!

Before you goddamn bastards say something about how chimpanzees aren't apes, I know this, but I really liked the title.

You've probably heard by now, but two chimpanzees beat the shit out of some guy named St. James Davis and his wife, LaDonna Davis. I would like to presume that the chimps were mauling these people simply because of their pretentious names, but I don't think that's the case. Instead, I think it's because they were jealous that their primate friend, Moe, was being brought a cake for his birthday. Apparently the two chimps who attacked, Buddy and Ollie, were on the South Beach Diet and had specific requests not to "have cake within five miles of me or my ass just starts to swell--seriously, it just goes right to my hips."

And when chimps set out to send a message, they do it in spades. The woman got part of her finger bitten off which isn't so bad considering what happened to our canonized friend. He had things severed. That's not severed as in made more important; that's severed as in removed. Now, I don't think it's normal procedure to give monkeys or any animals access to hand tools (except for the one day that they let the retarded kids play in woodshop class--but even then they hide all the sharp things), so that means that this all had to be done by the chimp's strength alone. St. James had his foot severed. Did a chimp rip the foot off of a man? If so, they are my new favorite animals--sorry, unicorns. But, the best part is that either Buddy or Ollie landed on St. James Place and ripped the shit off. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. He got his balls removed by a chimp. That's so damn awesome, like a kitten wearing a sweater.

One of the chimps, Ollie, had been shot by somebody who wanted it to stop (not sure why, sounds pretty kick-ass to me) and he just shook it off like Jason in Friday the 13th and dragged the guy down the road with him. No wonder these people at this farm had six chimps; they know how fucking sweet chimps are. If I had a farm of chimps I would give them stuff to rip apart just so I could watch. You know, like babies or packages of potato chips that are really greasy on the outside so it's all difficult and shit to get a hold of them.

Interesting thought of the day:
If you're that person who waits until the last second to merge on the freeway so you can avoid the long line, just know that one of these times I'm going to climb inside your car and poop on your steering wheel while you're driving so then you'll get into an accident because you don't want to touch your steering wheel, it's covered in human poop. And I'll be perfectly fine because I was thrown free from the crash and landed safely in a mound of my own shit that I had put there just for this occasion. Sure, I could have used pillows or something, but you should see how much I shit. Especially now because it's Girl Scout Cookies season and Thin Mints make me poop a lot. And really, really black. I mean that black like when black people are so black that they're almost purple. That kind of black.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

"Just Rub Some Twizzlers On It!"

In the most random study ever, it was discovered that an ingredient in licorice can help combat herpes.

This is fantastic news for licorice maker Red Vines whose new line of condoms, "Red Vines (get it?)," is set to hit store shelves next month.

The study has also found that Nerds funneled into the urethra helps clear up urinary tract infections, Whoppers cure prostate cancer, and a yard of Fruit by the Foot a day makes AIDS go away. When reached for comment, Willy Wonka simply said:

There's no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going
There's no knowing where we're rowing
Or which way the river's flowing
Is it raining? Is it snowing? Is a hurricane a'blowing?
Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
Are the fires of hell a'glowing?
Is the grisly reaper mowing?
The danger must be growing
For the rowers keep on rowing
And they're certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing!

Then children around the world were scarred for life. Coincidentally, an Everlasting Gobstopper can cure that as well as Scabies.

Interesting thought of the day:
The other day I saw a black kid on a skateboard carrying a funnel cake. That was the best day of my life.