Where are they now?! (The Goonies)

Friday, May 10, 2013


Top Five Banned Books of All Time

Friday, May 3, 2013

1. Mein Kampf for Dummies

2. Chicken Soup for the Vagina

3. Idiot's Guide to Sodomy

4. Winnie the Poop and Friends

5. The Cunt of Monte Cristo


It's Gaddafi, bitches!

Thursday, May 2, 2013


Inventions That Should Have Existed By Now

Friday, March 22, 2013

Because of all the useless crap that we utilize every day of our goddamn lives (i.e. airplanes, soap, stoves, contraceptives, cars, clothing), it's about time we invested in things that actually matter.

(Belly-Button Lint Protector)

This guy is pretty cool. He agrees that LINT-BE-GONE should have been invented a little before the wheel. No one knows where belly-button lint comes from. Many have speculated, and some have even tried to prevent it by foregoing clothing for weeks on end, but little has ever come of it 'til now. Say goodbye to strangely textured fur-balls nuzzling in your stomach! Say goodbye to random peanut M&M's hidden in your gut! Lint-Be-Gone is here! Also available for babies, salt cubes, and telephone poles.

(A Laughing School)

Tired of great friends who are otherwise horrible laughers? Tired of blood oozing out your ear every time you are forced to overhear that forced cackle of superficial middle-aged women on your commute to work? Tired of regretting the re-telling of that great racist joke you know and love so much simply because Joe Dickneck does not know how to laugh correctly?

Well now, with a brief, 4-semester certificate program at MCLI, all of those morons can perfect their laughter and rejoin normal society! With our approved-accreditation and competent staff of professional laughers, you can be sure that after graduation, Joe Dickneck will never laugh like an asshole again! Enroll TODAY!

Breeze Crotch

Breeze Crotch should have been invented along with briefs. Let's face it, fellahs, nothing is worse than summer stew-crotch, especially when out on a picnic with a rocking babe (or Aunt Edna). Breeze Crotch employs a self-regulating cooling fan that cools you down when you need it most.

Take our model, Jonas, for instance, as you can see from the complex artistic rendering, it may be summer out, but it's winter in his junk! Don't like the Rugged-Tuxedo look, Breeze Crotch is also available in a variety of colors, patterns, and sizes!

Still Not satisfied? How about a bigger package? Done! As a result of the uncomfortable (and 100% safe) size and placement of the Breeze Crotch fan, you can now live out your fantasy of being Labyrinth's Jareth The Goblin, as immortalized by that sweet piece of meat, David Bowie! Crotch rot? Breeze it with Breeze Crotch!


You don't have to hate animals to dislike the heart-wrenching disaster that is a moronic and ill-informed dog bark. Some dogs just don't know what they're doing. They go ahead and open their mouths only to sound like dying possums, mating squirrels, or even, on much rarer ocassions, Paula Cole songs!

The thing is, dogs have been so domesticated by pussy-ass people, that in most cases, they've lost their doggie mojos and overall will to live. But those days are over! From the people that brought you Bacon Bits and the hit movie, Benji, we present Colonel Kennel Barking School- for dogs who want to take control of their lives!

CKBS will not only provide your cute, little doggies with the effective power and pitch needed for their barking needs, but will also help them develop a solid sense of worth and physical acumen! Have a bitch-ass dog? Send him to CKBS! CKBS, give your dog a new leash on life!

(The Finger/Toe Dispenser)

According to Newsweekly, each year, somewhere between 3 and 15,687 people lose a finger or toe on the job. Imagine having to go through life without one of those babies. Do you work with dangerous equipment? Did you just nod? Good. Are you worried that this might happen to you? Nodding? Stop fucking worrying! Now with the Toe-Matic, you no longer have to worry about long lines at the emergency room or about disposing of your diseased bloody paper towels! Because with Toe-Matic, you can pop on a new appendage at the simple snap of a finger!

Simply, refill the Toe-Matic regularly with the fingers/toes of refugees or undocumented citizens, accidentally cut, and pop! You're all set! It's THAT simple. Safe job environment? Don't fret! Distract or play a trick on your co-worker! He'll be laughing in no time when he sees how easy the Toe-Matic is to use! Babyheads gives the Toe-Matic two thumbs up!

Face it, we're all going to die horrible deaths, like getting snuggled into complete ecstasy by friendly dolphins, or mowed down by the gentle kisses of angelic golden retrievers. These inventions, which SHOULD HAVE ALREADY EXISTED, will dramatically extend the amount of time we spend on this goddamn awesome planet! So buy one today! (Invention or planet, makes no difference.)


And now, a word from our Sponsors:


"Larry Vag" A Micro-Story by E. Arias

Monday, December 3, 2012

         Gorban McDickface and Jeffrey Jefferson went to the store to get some diapers. On the way, they encountered a man with a vagina for a face. Naturally, they laughed.  But little did they know that for the man with the vagina for a face -let's call him Larry- this was the final straw. He began to sob uncontrollably and because he had a vagina for a face, it was a bit awkward for everyone on the street. The man cried viscous tears that trickled ever so slowly down his fuzzy demeanor. He looked like a convulsing spider and this made Gorban and Jeffrey laugh all the more, although they weren't sure if they should stay or if they should continue on their now-merrier way.

         At that moment, a patrol car rolled by, and noticing the commotion, pulled over to see what was happening. A police officer in a ballerina outfit chassed gracefully out of the vehicle to speak to the men. He had never seen a man with a vagina for a face either, but he remembered his oath as a civil servant and therefore held back every temptation to laugh. By this point, Gorban and Jeffrey had quieted down, there was a new severity present and judging from the officer's tutu, they knew they would be in deep trouble if they were to act unruly in any way.

         "Is there some kind of problem here?" asked the officer. The man with the vagina for a face was suddenly very nervous and tensed up. His labia were strangely puckered as he wiped the tears from his face.
"N- not necessarily," Larry replied.
"Not that that's any kind of an answer but...how about you guys, is everything all right here?" asked the officer, his spandex almost glistening in the hot sun.
Gorban shrugged and picked his nose. Jeffrey sighed and, "Well, um, you know, we were walking by, just minding our beeswaxes, when this um...gentleman started, well, balling."

         Larry's face made a strange popping sound, which seemed a bit like indignation. The police officer noticed this but turned back to Jeffrey who was now shielding his nose from what he perceived to be a peculiar scent coming from Larry's small outburst.
Gorban snickered a bit and was met by the police officer's stern and reproachful eyes.

         "Alright, you know what," to Gorban and Jeffrey, "just go do whatever you two set out to do...and stay out of trouble," said the officer, the triviality of the scene setting in. The two teenagers went away chuckling. Larry, still standing there, peering fixedly at the officer, didn't have much to say- so he just stood there.
"Sir, is everything okay? Will you be fine?" asked the officer.

         But Larry stood there, oozing nervously for you see it was January 15th and Larry was not only overly sensitive due to the constant teasing he regularly had to endure, but also because he was experiencing a bit of premenstrual syndrome. You see, it was just about that time of the month and Larry knew that any minute now he would be bleeding from his face.

         It was too hot to wear the face pad and frankly he was tired of it. For 21 years he had endure the torment of having a vagina for a face but there was nothing he could do about it. Men would stare at him at times, as if he were just a naked piece of meat, and because his vocal chords were sometimes restricted by his physiological responses to the opposite sex -his clitoral uvula would swell up-, he was generally unable to launch any effective insults at his admirers.

         "I'm f-fine. Can I go now?" Larry responded.
"...I have no reason to keep you. Just wanted to make sure you were okay," said the police officer as he backed away to his vehicle but not before delivering an elegant pot-a-boree. Larry's vulva purred slightly as the police officer drove away, perhaps impressed by the civil servant's movement. But Larry felt a little sad for some reason. He knew the officer just wanted to help, but he also knew that spraying an officer in the face with menstrual blood would've either gotten him killed or arrested. Both of which he preferred to avoid, being of a somewhat reasonable caliber.

         With the officer far down the block by now, Larry let out a sigh of relief. He knew his stress had nothing to do with the two jerks that laughed at him because he knew some people just had a hard time understanding how varied and weird the world actually was. Looking at his watch, Larry decided it was time to go home. He smiled sincerely and queefed slowly into the afternoon.


10 Funny Schizoid Things to Say to People

Monday, July 9, 2012

1) I want to wrestle with a political sandwich.

2) The lonely coast, from here to from, is four jelly beans that stare.

3) My groin lost its ocean meat, macaroniously speaking.

4) Where did you time?! I'm a barnacle truth.

5) I've come from incisor ball and have a mink for sausage queen.

6) Oh my god, the cheese is milking my face and I'm Norton!

7) HAHA, you dumb shit! I'm inhaling a cat rap.

8) Is there a cocoon in my nose to sleeve, Manpacket?

9) I hereby declare that I have spork visions.

10) My favorite music is potato chip.


That Dumb-Ass Anti-Smoking Ad

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Sucks for this guy. I like how the language used in this ad is made to sound so explicit in order to hit the reader/consumer where it hurts. He apparently breathes through a HOLE and speaks through a MACHINE. I mean, these are obviously not the correct terms for these things- which is strange because commercials are so often concerned with being p.c., except of course when it suits them.

I say if you want to impact someone, don't beat around the bush, just say what you mean (i.e. "Smoking gave me muthafuckin throat cancer at 39, betch! Now I breathe through a vagina and speak like a goddamn Transformer. I have a small head, my prostate is gigantic, and I hate my life- you should too!"). If only ads were honest.


Everyone Hates Teenagers.

If you really think about it, no one likes teenagers. They are the toxic sludge of every generation. They're always depressed, consume more resources than God, and somehow always manage to be the victims of something, however insidious their original motivations. And we know this because, guess what? We were once teenagers, unfortunately- unless you're one of the current Republican candidates who were born exactly as they appear (i.e. strange adult mixtures of wooden teeth, gray hairs, and skin made of rotten tree bark).

Teenagers hate everything. They hate pasta, dolphins, bears, home phones, food, values, the news, boredom, and most of the time, they even hate colors. Ultimately, though, they pretty much always hate themselves. And I mean, this is entirely understandable since they're teenagers and they suck and they know this- which is probably why they're always depressed. We know this because when we were teenagers, we hated ourselves as well. Some people remain teenagers forever and eventually embark on a non-stop hate train to Haterville, Haterchusetts. (Note: That was just a figurative expression, there really is no Haterville, Haterchusetts- just in case you'd like to avoid it.)

(These teenagers are probably watching a satanic ritual they fully approve of.) 

Teenagers are putrid creations and they usually reek of locker room and/or K-Mart perfume. They always have ACNE and talk funny when they go through puberty. They torture children, drive fast while on drugs, scream at their dogs, dress their hamsters up in tutus, and overfeed their turtles. They can't be trusted. That's why the drinking age is 21- because the government knows that every teenager is a nuclear mess of a bomb and they're silently trying to prevent the synchronized supernova teenager tantrum that will make the multiverse implode this year. I have several nieces and nephews who are teenagers and they know more than anyone that teenagers suck. I love these kids dearly, but they know it's nothing personal because you just can't love a teenager until they are officially 20 years old. Even parents hate their teenagers. Some parents spoil their children and give them lots of money in the hopes that they'll just take a plane to Mongolia and disappear from their lives.

(Some teenagers actually need to hide from other teenagers in order to talk about math equations and social studies.) 

Anyway, I don't want to write about this anymore because it's making me hate. Moral of the story, teenagers are demons and they want to eat your flesh.


No Pets.

I'm fascinated by the fact the "No pets" reversed is "Step on." I really hope there isn't some dog out there that goes by "Dewolla" since "No Pets Allowed" reversed would not be his favorite. 

And since we're on the topic, I find road signs to be ambigous and confusing in general. They are written in a language that humans (i.e. dumb-ass, nut sacks) will never fully understand. The best example of this is the infamous "Slow Children" sign. This one right here: 

Now, is the sign telling me, as a driver, to slow down because there are children around? OR is it telling the children to slow down because there are cars in the area? OR is it telling us drivers that there are "slow" (meaning, retarded) children in the area so that I be aware of the possibility that a rabid little girl with Down Syndrome may potentially hop on the roof of my car and eat her way in? No offense to you Down Syndrome girls- I'm just trying to make a point. I still love you guys.


Lessons in History: Part 2, The Mesolithic and Neolithic

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Hi kids! Know you're all jonesing to hear the rest of the story of human's history! Well, just chillax, get out your sandwich, poke that straw into your juicebox and get ready for...


So when we left off, anatomically modern humans had spread to all parts of the world, overthrowing the previous regimes of The Sabertooth Tiger Empire and Woolly Mammoth Dynasty with the use of a powerful new weapon made by attaching a sharpened stone to a long stick, Spear. This combined with their snazzy new skill firemaking, they made Burning Spear.

Burning Spear, once properly hafted and alit, quickly allowed humans to rise to the top of the food chain with his steady beats and intelligent retrospective lyrics, which, while often not as heavy as say Dennis Brown, constantly reminded early humans of the social inequality in Jamaica at the time. In academia, Burning Spear is generally considered the terminal Palaeolithic and beginning of the Middle Stone Age, or...


The Mesolithic has been a period largely ignored in archaeologically research until the past few decades. While the Palaeolithic had motorcycles and ape-men and the Neolithic has agriculture, the Mesolithic lacked a real defining characteristic. Until the efforts of one man.You see, back in the period we archaeologists refer to as "the day" (c. 1910-1960), the Neolithic was championed by a man named Vere Gordon Childe. Childe had ridiculous glasses, an odd name, a crazy mustache, often talked to himself, and was a downright weirdo. In other words, the perfect archaeologist.

'V' for Vere

With the Childe riding the Neolithic white war steed into battle the period reached new heights and Neolithic stock rose through the roof. But all cool people are destined to become uncool one day. As time went on lithographs of a new archaeologist started appearing in the student centre's billboard, John Grahame Douglas Clark.

Grahame Clark was younger, sexier, had a longer name, no mustache, and wouldn't shut up about "socio-economies". In short, he was the bee's knees.

Grahame Clark inspecting a Aquilonian Blade found in the garden

And also, for some reason, he cared about a little known period called the Mesolithic. Incidentally, I need to install Photoshop already and stop messing around with MS Paint. As all the female archaeologists wanted him and all the male archaeologists wanted to be him, no one ignored the Mesolithic ever again. So what actually happened during the Mesolithic? I haven't a clue.

The Neolithic is considered the beginning of agriculture and pastoralism. That and building big things. Those wacky guys couldn't get enough of it! The predominant theory was that after farming and livestock had been adopted by the ex-hunter gatherers, they became very very very bored. Stalking killer bears in the forest does not compare to watching wheat grow or making sure your slow moving sheep do not walk off a cliff. So to pass the time they built monuments. Here are a few you will probably recognize:

After the destruction of the several limestone Death Stars by pesky rebel scum, Neolithic groups decided it was time to hurry up and find some metal to make them out of. And so we leave the Stone Age and enter the exciting, shiny AGE OF METAL. Stay tuned for your next fat dose of history, the Bronze Age!


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