BAMF

Huzzah for crappy puns! Im currently amidst a sea of unwashed contemporaries awaiting the arrivals of our loved ones at Los Angeles International airport. I was about to post when a guy asked, “Hey, is that a Hiptop???”, at which point I entered sales pitch mode. When it comes to techno geeks, I may as well have a firm set of tits and an apple of an ass when it comes to making an impression.

Anyway, now that Im nice and toasted from the nearby cantina, I feel it’s time to drop some holiday science on ya. First off, don’t show up early to pick people up from the airport. Not my choice, mind you. Id rather my loved ones wait in a terminal then me, because at least they can meander in the “ticketholders only” areas that contain the only restaurants and bookstores within the immediate area. We had to walk 15 minutes to find a newsstand and a beer. And another thing, Halle Berry and Jennifer Lopez are on too goddamn many magazine covers this month. I say enough with the girls who’s bosoms have already been bared onscreen. Time to concentrate our attention on those who’s endowments remain a mystery. Besides, I could give a fuck about Lopez’s marriage to Affleck. If I wanted to read about doomed marriages I’d hook OJ up with the heiress to a cutlery empire.

Gotta go, the family’s here. Thanks for your time.

I sure hope that this is six months old. I mean I really do. It’s fucking funny and I can’t be posting anythine new here, now can I? This is another Flash Animation parody of Clerks, but you knew that already because you’ve seen it, right?

Major props to Teachdaire for this one.

Make wit da clickin’ already!

We finally put an Indian and a Mexican into space, and what do we do? We put them to work doing construction, which apparently is the only thing they are good at aside from selling drugs and the short order grill.

Astronauts used cranes to attach another expensive piece of latticework to the international space station Tuesday, and then a team of spacewalkers went out and wired it up. Herrington — the first American Indian in space — and his spacewalking partner, Michael Lopez-Alegria, installed clamps, removed locks and connected electrical cables between the new segment and the rest of the space station. [story]

And, in standard minority fashion, the two engaged in some friendly racist bantering when the Mexican accused the Indian of being a lazy no good bag of drunken shit:

The spacewalkers teased each other as they worked 250 miles up. Lopez-Alegria wanted to take a picture of Herrington and told him, “Why don’t you do some work so your family won’t think you’re goofing off up here on vacation?”

NASA has plans to send a white supervisor into space later this week to make sure “the darkies didn’t fuck anything up.”

Just a quickie about a quickie gone awry. It’s work safe for those of you who care, unless your work has something against profanities. Personally, I think everyone in a cubicle-caged environment would feel much better with a cute profane surname, like Mr. Cockbiter or Ms. Fuckserwaytothetop. Something to bring all of that nasty office gossip out into the open where it can fester and boil.

You can’t go through a full and complete life without having loved Will Ferrell at some point. Love him now children, love him now.

[ Will Ferrell – Santa Claus Mac Switch Ads ]

Alright so Rosco sent me this link to a “fan.” It’s relatively amusing because you can simply edit the URL by putting in whatever name you want. Great for getting your friends’ hopes up and then smashing them down.

Notice to any Iraqi families looking for some objets d’art to sprinkle around your war-torn homestead: remodelling with old artillery does not a Martha Stewart make. That takes a deal with Satan and a few insider trading scandals.

A Montenegrin family thought a World War II artillery shell was the ideal replacement for a broken table leg — until it exploded, injuring eight people as they were about to eat a meal.

“It was our own idea to replace the missing leg with this cannon grenade,” house owner Milovan Miskovic said. “We thought it was harmless…it was here in our courtyard for some 50 years.”

But “all of a sudden, we heard a loud bang and then everything went black.”

Good idea pops. How about giving baby Huey one of those old grenades for a pacifier this Christmas? Thankfully (?) the family suffered minor injuries, and have since replaced the errant table leg with their latest backyard findings.

I know, it’s a cheap shot. But we’re all about the cheap shots here. Besides, what better use would you find for Anne if she stumbled into your backyard spouting shit about God, Celestia, and popcorn? Well, I know what most of you would do, and Lord only knows what you’d catch you little perverts.

Everybody and their brother has been sending me this link. Apparently a Swedish scientist burned his junk with his laptop while writing a report. There goes the relevancy of the ages-old addage: “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to not burn your cock with a Dell… dude.”

Doctors are warning that laptop computers may inflict a burn even through clothed skin, after the bizarre case of a Swedish scientist who scorched his penis and testicles while writing a report in his armchair.

The unnamed 50-year-old father of two had balanced the computer on his lap while he wrote the report at home, taking about an hour to do it, according to a letter published in the next issue of the British medical weekly The Lancet.

The following day, he started to develop painful blisters on his foreskin and scrotum, which became infected but eventually cleared up without the need for antibiotics.

You’d have to wonder about the amount of usage a fellow gets out of a wang that can get so seriously injured without the guy noticing. Then again, I’m too drunk to be funny right now, so why don’t you go ahead and click on the banners I uploaded while drinking these lovely margaritas, and pretend I was so fucking hilarious that your goddamned Coke spurted out of your nose and all over your 21″ LCD flat screen monitor. I bought you that monitor by the way, so you love me more than words can say. Just remember that when your cities are burning and covered with monkey shit. Comedy gold and 21″ flat screens baby, it was all fucking worth it.