But to us he'll always be"Captain Ballspike."
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Today's Useless Global Warning
Be worried, be very worried
The climate is crashing, and global warming is to blame
No one can say exactly what it looks like when a planet takes ill, but it probably looks a lot like Earth. Or, I suppose, that rejected bullshit called "Pluto."
Anyway, never mind what you've heard about global warming as a slow-motion emergency that would take decades to play out. Suddenly and unexpectedly, the crisis is upon us.
From heat waves to storms to floods to fires to massive glacial melts, the global climate seems to be crashing around us.
The problem -- as scientists suspected but few others appreciated -- is that global climate systems are booby-trapped with tipping points and feedback loops, thresholds past which the slow creep of environmental decay gives way to sudden and self-perpetuating collapse. That's just what's happening now.
(cue music: dun-dun DUN!)
It's at the north and south poles -- where ice cover is crumbling to slush -- that the crisis is being felt the most acutely.
Late last year, for example, researchers analyzed data from Canadian and European satellites and found that the Greenland ice sheet is not only melting, but doing so faster and faster, with 53 cubic miles draining away into the sea last year alone, compared to 23 cubic miles in 1996.
What else can we expect from global warming?
The climate is crashing, and global warming is to blame
No one can say exactly what it looks like when a planet takes ill, but it probably looks a lot like Earth. Or, I suppose, that rejected bullshit called "Pluto."
Anyway, never mind what you've heard about global warming as a slow-motion emergency that would take decades to play out. Suddenly and unexpectedly, the crisis is upon us.From heat waves to storms to floods to fires to massive glacial melts, the global climate seems to be crashing around us.
The problem -- as scientists suspected but few others appreciated -- is that global climate systems are booby-trapped with tipping points and feedback loops, thresholds past which the slow creep of environmental decay gives way to sudden and self-perpetuating collapse. That's just what's happening now.
(cue music: dun-dun DUN!)
It's at the north and south poles -- where ice cover is crumbling to slush -- that the crisis is being felt the most acutely.
Late last year, for example, researchers analyzed data from Canadian and European satellites and found that the Greenland ice sheet is not only melting, but doing so faster and faster, with 53 cubic miles draining away into the sea last year alone, compared to 23 cubic miles in 1996.
What else can we expect from global warming?
- Way more overweight middle aged men wearing tank top tee shirts.
- Less snow fort time, more pool side time!
- Tropicana Sunblock SPF 4000 on sale at CVS.
- Solar Powered Fagboy Cars coming into style.
- Naked people... everywhere.
- Iceland becomes Greenland and Greenland becomes Rhode Island.
- Inner city kids cooking their Ramen Noodles right on the overheated sidewalks.
- Glacier Water Vodka from Newfoundland for everyone!
- I don't know... what does it say in the Bible?
- A dramatic increase in Global Warming Bitching Blogs.
- Endless shows on PBS, narrated by James Earl Jones, that talk about the inevitable destruction of life as we know it.
- Chuck E. Cheese finally runs for office.
- The Messiah rising forth and delivering the chosen people unto blah, blah, blah.
- My only friend... the end.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Dr. Jack Shephard Cookin School
Hi. It's Jack. We've got to learn how to cook. We need to eat. We'll do it together. Cook together, die alone. Come on!
Well, I don't know about you but I'm thinking of cooking up some of this beef and eating it. I mean, you can do what you want, but I'm cooking the beef. Look, beef has protein. I'm a doctor and I know people need protein to survive. I know it, and you know it too. We're not... uhg, look, we're cooking the beef. The BEEF. God, I... I can't believe. NO! We are NOT. cooking.
CHICKEN. There's beef here and we're going to cook it.
CHICKEN. There's beef here and we're going to cook it.
Preheat the oven to 675 degrees. I know what I'm doing. Preheat the oven. Just. Preheat. the. Oven. DAMMIT. I'll do it myself. There. Are you with me? No. We are not leaving until this is cooked. Grab some onions, potatoes, carrots, brocoli, pineapple, a juice box, a 50 foot stent and some gravy mix. DO IT! WE DON'T HAVE TIME. look. we don't havetimetoargue. just. put. that stuff. in a pan. Okay?
Put it in the oven. Look. I need your help with this. We need to work together on this. Put the beef in the oven. Put the beef in the oven. Come on. DAMMIT! I'll do it myself. There! It's cooking. Now. We wait.
Of course there's a fire, Kate. It's cooking!
Oh. Oh no. I've ruined it. I don't know what I'm doing. I just want to get out of this kitchen. DAMMIT! I don't know about you, but I'm getting out of this kitchen. You can saty here if you want. I'm leaving. I. don't. care if the whole place burns.
I don't care anymore. Uhhhhhh.
I don't care anymore. Uhhhhhh.
The Wrongman's Fix It Guide: Section 4, Chapter 77, Paragraph 331
DVD player skipping too much or not playing at all? Everyone knows that DVDs are just like CDs and CDs contain the same music that we used to listen to on cassette tapes. Go to your parents attic and dig up about 10 or 15 old cassettes. Extract the tape itself and weave them all into a rope like length about 12 inches long. Now, get yourself a butter knife, some palm fronds and a brass knuckle and open up the DVD player until you can see the DVD reader assembly itself. Remove the assembly, wrap the tape-rope around it and freeze them both overnight. Oh, by the way, if you see a green wire, for fuck sake, DO NOT CUT IT. Moving on, while the tape wrapped player assembly is in the freezer, rinse the rest of the DVD player off in a warm bath of Lea & Perrins Worcestershire sauce and then let it air dry. In the morning, replace the assembly, pray to Jobu, sacrifice a cat from your neighborhood (never your own) and you should not only be good to go with regular DVDs but you should also be able to play Blu Ray DVDs as well. HOW FUCKING BALLSTASIC IS THAT?
Proposed Wikipedia Article
Dear Wikipedia. I know you read my blog and I propose you replace the current article about ants on your website with this, more accurate and stunning article.
Ants are little things that crawl on the ground and eat leaves. They have portly little bellies and some people eat them. Many of our former presidents were ants or loved ants. Most were not ants. A dog can beat up an ant in like 2 seconds. There are many types of ants, like flying, fire, water, air, corn, burglar and gay ants.
Ants
Ants are little things that crawl on the ground and eat leaves. They have portly little bellies and some people eat them. Many of our former presidents were ants or loved ants. Most were not ants. A dog can beat up an ant in like 2 seconds. There are many types of ants, like flying, fire, water, air, corn, burglar and gay ants.Ants sting people viciously every year and they die. The ants lose their stingers and die in the process as well, which is fair. Many people consider ants a fruit, but scientifically, they are vegetables because they don't contain seeds.
I eat ants every day. See above. And above. And above that.
I eat ants every day. See above. And above. And above that.
Ants have very small lips but can still use police whistles.
What do you call 10,000 ants in a swimming pool? Poolut-ants! Ha ha.
As the years go by, ants become more valuable than even you can possibly imagine. Thanks to ants for all they have given us. Hooray!
He's on his final hole. He's about 455 yards away, he's gonna hit about a 2 iron I think.
Tiger Woods' caddy says sex scandal came as a surprise
Carl Spackler says he's disappointed in his friend, but supportive because he’s lean, mean, and not too far in between
(WINNETKA, IL) -- The man closest to Tiger Woods when he plays golf says he had no idea about the extramarital affairs that have sidelined Woods from the game.
Carl Spackler, part time grounds keeper, part time gopher hunter and part time pro jock to Woods, talked to Illinois TV12 about the scandal.
"You know, uh, it’s your typical Cinderella story," Spackler said in an interview posted on Thursday. "Outta nowhere. A former schoolboy becomes the Masters champion. It looks like a mirac... he’s in the hole! He’s in a lot of holes!"
Woods, 34, apologized last month in a tightly controlled televised statement for his "irresponsible and selfish" behavior, which he said included infidelity.
Spackler, a one time caddy to the Dalai Lama, himself, Twelfth son of the Lama, said that he believes with the apology “there won’t be any money. But, on his deathbed, Woods can still achieve total consciousness. So he’s got that going for him... which is nice.”
The February 19 statement was his first public appearance since he crashed his black Cadillac Escalade into a fire hydrant and a tree near his home in November. The crash and reports about why it happened sparked a barrage of infidelity allegations against the golfer, who has two children with his wife.
When asked about that particular incident, Spackler seemed to be more concerned about the grass that Woods apparently drove over. “His lawn is a hybrid. It’s a cross, ah, of Bluegrass, Kentucky Bluegrass, Featherbed Bent, and Northern California Sensemilia. The amazing stuff about this is, that you can play 36 holes on it in the afternoon, take it home and just get stoned to the bejeezus-belt that night on this stuff. What a waste.”
Spackler said he would not have kept it secret just to protect his job.
"I'm a straight up sort of person. I get into this dude's pelt and crawl around for a few days. Who's Woods ally? His friends. The harmless squirrel and the friendly rabbit," Spackler said. "But I told him you can’t go around telling all the girls that you got a salami to hide or they’ll lock you up and throw away the key."
Carl Spackler says he's disappointed in his friend, but supportive because he’s lean, mean, and not too far in between
(WINNETKA, IL) -- The man closest to Tiger Woods when he plays golf says he had no idea about the extramarital affairs that have sidelined Woods from the game.
Carl Spackler, part time grounds keeper, part time gopher hunter and part time pro jock to Woods, talked to Illinois TV12 about the scandal."You know, uh, it’s your typical Cinderella story," Spackler said in an interview posted on Thursday. "Outta nowhere. A former schoolboy becomes the Masters champion. It looks like a mirac... he’s in the hole! He’s in a lot of holes!"
Woods, 34, apologized last month in a tightly controlled televised statement for his "irresponsible and selfish" behavior, which he said included infidelity.
Spackler, a one time caddy to the Dalai Lama, himself, Twelfth son of the Lama, said that he believes with the apology “there won’t be any money. But, on his deathbed, Woods can still achieve total consciousness. So he’s got that going for him... which is nice.”
The February 19 statement was his first public appearance since he crashed his black Cadillac Escalade into a fire hydrant and a tree near his home in November. The crash and reports about why it happened sparked a barrage of infidelity allegations against the golfer, who has two children with his wife.When asked about that particular incident, Spackler seemed to be more concerned about the grass that Woods apparently drove over. “His lawn is a hybrid. It’s a cross, ah, of Bluegrass, Kentucky Bluegrass, Featherbed Bent, and Northern California Sensemilia. The amazing stuff about this is, that you can play 36 holes on it in the afternoon, take it home and just get stoned to the bejeezus-belt that night on this stuff. What a waste.”
Spackler said he would not have kept it secret just to protect his job.
"I'm a straight up sort of person. I get into this dude's pelt and crawl around for a few days. Who's Woods ally? His friends. The harmless squirrel and the friendly rabbit," Spackler said. "But I told him you can’t go around telling all the girls that you got a salami to hide or they’ll lock you up and throw away the key."
Thursday, March 4, 2010
What not to say during an airplane crash
- Looks like cutting those fuel lines wasn't such a good idea after all.
- Well, I guess it's OK for me to unhook my colostomy bag now.
- I'll always love you, Dick Cheney.
- Oh man! I bet Jack is still on the Island!
- Duckpants to Sock. Come in, Sock. Over.
- Can I get some more Ginger Ale, please?
- I hope this urine stain doesn't survive the crash.
- Ned? Ned Ryerson?
- So, this is what it felt like to be on Wall Street in 1929.
- (singing) Oh, they built the ship Titanic to sail the ocean blue.
- Dammit. I was SO close to having an orgasm.
- JIHAD! Nah. I'm just fuckin' with ya.
- We ain't landing in the Hudson this time, Sully!
- I'd fuck me.
- Does anyone smell waffles? I smell waffles.
- You know why they put oxygen masks on planes? Oxygen gets you high. In a catastrophic emergency, you're taking giant panicked breaths. Suddenly you become euphoric, docile. You accept your fate. It's all right here. Emergency water landing - 600 miles an hour. Blank faces, calm as Hindu cows.
- Nixon totally fucked her. Am I right?
- Do you have any weed? Oh, wait. Never mind. I do.
- Fuck. FUCK! What would Celine Dion do?
- Lady, you are not looking good right now.
- I SUPPORT GAY MARRIAGE!
Grocery Store Games
Bored at the grocery store, eh? Wife still trying to decide between Campbell's Chicken Noodle and Campbells Chicken WITH Noodle, while you stare into the brighty bright overhead lights? Ha. Play some games! Like what? Well, here's a few quick ones:
Old Lady Hustle - Wait for an old lady to come down the aisle. Pretend not to see her, but obstruct her path with your body or your cart. Pretend to be looking for something. If she says "Excuse me." respond "No." without looking at her. If she tries to get by make a steady, machine like "AHHHHHHHHHHH" and act like a hockey goalie. Let her by eventually and say "Just what I expected," point and laugh.
Price Talk - Look at itmes. Tell the items something about their price in a very loud voice, like, "Hey, canned olives. Your price SUCKS!" Or, "Ketchup! Nice job on that discount, Kimosabe!"
Unauthorized Babysitter - Find the annoying kid in the store. You know the one who thinks he's a plane and rams the cart into your heel? Him. Make a few funny faces to warm up. Make a few sound effect noises too. Pop a blood capsule in your mouth and start choking and coughing. When he gets scared or cries, get up and scream and chase him. When his mother gets irate, demand she pay you for baysitting service.
Meat Market Comic - Do a really bad grocery store stand up routine by the deli. It has to be the deli because that's wheere people are forced to wait. Say things like, "Can you believe all this baloney they're selling us?" or "Man, they some crazy crackas in ailse seven!"
There are many many more things to do, but shut up and cry yourself to sleep, doghead.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
The Wrongman's Fix It Guide: Section 633, Chapter 10, Paragraph 8
Blocked garden hose? Get a pound of rock salt, some low grade typical Asian fireworks, 1 cup of aluminum powder, an air compressor and a fully charged defibrillator kit. Figure out approximately where the clog in the hose is and go to whichever end is closer. Stuff in the rock salt, then the fireworks (some crushed, some intact) and use the air compressor to ram the mixture deeper into the hose and, hopefully, right up against the suspected blockage. This is now known as "the stack." Make sure this mixture does not get wet or otherwise compromised in any way whatsoever. Finally, slowly pour the aluminum powder down the hose and shake gently so it settles carefully on top of the stack. While you wait for the trioxyetheline phosphatorious gasses to bleed off, run to the store and pick me up a Slim Jim, a 64oz. Orange Gatorade and some Crumb Donettes. Thanks, man. OK, when you're done screwing around and wasting my time all fucking afternoon, pick up the god damn defib kit, paddle up on both side of the hose, yell "CLEAR" and let's light this sucker off like it's the fourth of July. Now, if that doesn't blast the blockage out the far end, it's definitely going to shock your Great Uncle Sprague's heart back into to porn watching shape for the internets, fucko.
Ode to the POTUS
He's so handsome and fine!
That President of mine
He's got a helicopter and a plane
granted his VP
is slightly insane
But I can't complain
about that President of mine
My mom claims he's our cousin
and I'd say that sounds about right
with or without that modified overbite
even though he makes us wonder
about his medicare plunder
But, I can't really tell you
what's in the mind of that President of mine
His wife has a lazy eye
and it bothers me to no end
that his government sure like to spend
on all sorts of totally useless things
a lot of which have missiles and wings
Still, he looks good in a trendy fleece coat
that handsome and fine President of mine
That President of mine
He's got a helicopter and a plane
granted his VP
is slightly insane
But I can't complainabout that President of mine
My mom claims he's our cousin
and I'd say that sounds about right
with or without that modified overbite
even though he makes us wonder
about his medicare plunder
But, I can't really tell you
what's in the mind of that President of mine
His wife has a lazy eye
and it bothers me to no end
that his government sure like to spend
on all sorts of totally useless things
a lot of which have missiles and wings
Still, he looks good in a trendy fleece coat
that handsome and fine President of mine
Monday, March 1, 2010
Dear Steve Jobs
You just had to go and do it, didn't you.
Conjuring up a kick ass company with amazing, industry leading products wasn't enough, was it.
No, no, you couldn't just revolutionize the distribution and playback of music for all time. I mean, obviously doing a shit load of drugs and finding spiritual enlightenment in India just prior to becoming fucking billionaire couldn't possibly be sufficient for you, could it? Of course not.
You had to go and do it. You just couldn't settle for everything. You couldn't just have anything. You couldn't just be like a King who is satisfied with his kingdom and rests on his laurels to the benefit of the people.
Nope. Not you. Not the almost-late great Steve Jobs.
YOU JUST HAD TO GO AND RUIN A LETTER OF THE FUCKING ALPHABET.
I mean, you literally destroyed it. It will never be the same.
Steve Jobs - you killed the letter i.
If I was a lower case i at this very moment, I would be sitting in my unfinished basement, hiding from my psycho wife and kids, drinking cheap Russian vodka from my secret stash while spinning the cylinder of a barely loaded revolver and snapping it back into place in a desperate hope that a round will finally enter the chamber and I can blow my fucking brains out.
Yes, that's right. You ruined it for all of us.
Now everything is iThis and iThat and iFuck and iShit and...
Fucking fucktits, Steve, what the fuck?
And don't start pretending like it was your super cool product marketing teams and you had nothing to do with it. I know you pulled that iPod name out of your ass just after you took a massive LSD induced shit in the dunes off of some magical Californian beach.
So, what's next, fuckface? Are you going to piss on g? Rape d? Fuck r's mother? Kick y in the balls? Hang out with the XXX sisters and shove dollar bills down a's thong until she agrees to blow you in the back alley while her boyfriend t is forced to watch?
I wonder what it's like to be you.
Did you wake up one day and while you were putting on your overdone custom fit jeans and a trendy black mock turtleneck outfit, did you just decide that you had so much influence and power that it was time to thoroughly pulverize a helpful, innocent letter that had been in existence for thousands of years?
Whatever. I'm just jealous.
By the way, are you hiring?
Conjuring up a kick ass company with amazing, industry leading products wasn't enough, was it.
No, no, you couldn't just revolutionize the distribution and playback of music for all time. I mean, obviously doing a shit load of drugs and finding spiritual enlightenment in India just prior to becoming fucking billionaire couldn't possibly be sufficient for you, could it? Of course not.You had to go and do it. You just couldn't settle for everything. You couldn't just have anything. You couldn't just be like a King who is satisfied with his kingdom and rests on his laurels to the benefit of the people.
Nope. Not you. Not the almost-late great Steve Jobs.
YOU JUST HAD TO GO AND RUIN A LETTER OF THE FUCKING ALPHABET.
I mean, you literally destroyed it. It will never be the same.
Steve Jobs - you killed the letter i.
If I was a lower case i at this very moment, I would be sitting in my unfinished basement, hiding from my psycho wife and kids, drinking cheap Russian vodka from my secret stash while spinning the cylinder of a barely loaded revolver and snapping it back into place in a desperate hope that a round will finally enter the chamber and I can blow my fucking brains out.
Yes, that's right. You ruined it for all of us.
Now everything is iThis and iThat and iFuck and iShit and...Fucking fucktits, Steve, what the fuck?
And don't start pretending like it was your super cool product marketing teams and you had nothing to do with it. I know you pulled that iPod name out of your ass just after you took a massive LSD induced shit in the dunes off of some magical Californian beach.
So, what's next, fuckface? Are you going to piss on g? Rape d? Fuck r's mother? Kick y in the balls? Hang out with the XXX sisters and shove dollar bills down a's thong until she agrees to blow you in the back alley while her boyfriend t is forced to watch?
I wonder what it's like to be you.
Did you wake up one day and while you were putting on your overdone custom fit jeans and a trendy black mock turtleneck outfit, did you just decide that you had so much influence and power that it was time to thoroughly pulverize a helpful, innocent letter that had been in existence for thousands of years?
Whatever. I'm just jealous.
By the way, are you hiring?
Hints For First Dates
Women are freaking fiesty. So, let's say you go on a date with one. What can you do but cry? I have some hints. JIHAD!
- Walk a fine line. Be just disrespectful enough to earn her contempt and love. Instance, tell her you like her hair, and then giggle in a a soft high voice.
- Take some time to tug on her shirt from the back.
- Whisper 'Pig" everytime she takes a bit of food.
- Hold the door for her, but remind her she's lucky because the doors are heavy.
- Add the words 'missionary' and 'position' into almost every sentence, like "Hey, what's your position on those misssionaries that fuck each other face to face?"
- Spill your drink and tell her that your mom always gets you a new one when you spill.
- Ask her if she's seen a movie before. Say, 'good' no matter what she responds.
- Tell her you don't get out much due to that last witch you dated.- Insist you know every other person and try to prove it by screamig a random name and waiving.
- Play with change in your pocket and mumble "It itches. Help."
- Say "Date with you will last forever" in a robot voice every once in a while.
- Take her to a Mexican restaurant and claim to love it, but make nasty comments about latinos under your breath.
- Ask her to come back to your place and clean the toilets for five bucks.
- Throw bits of napkin at her if she looks away for a second.
- Ask her if she wants to trade names for a bit, so you can be SallySluts-a-Lot.
- Buy her flowers, but don't give them to her, because "Flowers are for Closers."
- Say her name really loud and point to her at random.
- Ask to braid her hair 'like dolly'.
- Tell her to squint like a chinaman.
- Use words like damp and moist often.
- Buy her pads and tell her you knew she'd need them eventually.
There are many other ways to woo the ladies, but you won't need them. Ever. Zeus is going to destroy the world in nine days.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
The Wrongman's Fix It Guide: Section 98, Chapter 77, Paragraph 34
Widescreen LCD HD Television not getting as bright as it used to? Take the unit down from its mounting and open up the back. Ignore any "do not open this television" warning stickers or custom factory bolts. Once you've got that fucker cracked wide open, surgically remove any resistors (not capacitors) you can find imprinted on or attached to any circuit boards throughout the unit. It really doesn't matter what you replace them with because TVs these days are all digital and it won't know the difference. As you solder replacement pieces, feel free to use malt vinegar or salt water to cool the heat sinks. The screen should be restored to its full effect after 4-6 hours worth of work. Why remove the resistors? Well, they are seriously old school and just tend to resist change. Resist. Get it? Yeah, you get it. Now, go get me a fucking Cap'n & Coke.
SpaceFarmer's Useless Obituary
The TUB loses an editor
Most of American mourns
Born into relative obscurity, raised in a Colombian orphanage and educated at some of the finest beauty and technical academies the world over, SpaceFarmer-1 passed away on Friday evening from unknown natural causes in a low gravity, high oxygen, sub orbital environment.
His exact age was unknown but was estimated to be between 31 and 170. Although it not clear what it means, his publicist stated that "he is figuratively survived by everyone on Earth, alive or dead."
SpaceFarmer, commonly known as "The People's Champion of Useless Rights", had recently achieved worldwide recognition and infamy as the creator, editor and co-contributor of The Totally Useless Blog. The TUB, as it is known, was first published online in September of 2005 and later led to a string of successful political commentary novels, several massively popular blogs and a daytime talk show hosted by Tony Danza, all of which is still owned and operated by one of SF-1's own parent companies, Third Option Media.
SF-1 believed that his writing was the true voice of the people (well, the people that he knew, at least) and he was always proud, to the point of being egotistic, of his ability to interpret everyday life into a steady stream of garbled madness, hysterical lists, historical tidbits, disturbing images and hypnotic animations.
For reasons hitherto unknown to anyone that knew him on a personal or professional level, during TUBteam meetings and presentations with financial investors and corporate watchdogs, SpaceFarmer would often say (rather loudly while using an overblown female Southern accent) that he was "your favorite representative of insane weirdos everywhere. An expert tunnel rat and certified geek-boy, I can unquestionably turn that frown upside down! YEE HAW!" He would then proceed to do his trademark "Hib Dab Dibbity Dog-Dog" Dance.
A self proclaimed independent nation, and President of the "You're Not That Important" Club (Worcester County Chapter, Lodge #2323), SpaceFarmer was always cleared for mental and spiritual takeoff.
In the mid to late 1990's, SpaceFarmer ran for various public offices in the United States and Canada under the pseudonym "Elmo Van Dickers."
During his brief and totally unsuccessful campaigns, he worked in conjunction with the US State Department and certain unnamed members of the League Of Women Voters on plans to desalinize the Atlantic Ocean and commence the immediate bombing of Greenland.
Although none of these intentions ever became reality, "Elmo" is remembered for his inability to pay attention to anyone and obnoxiously interrupt any and all conversations. He would then immediately relate whatever topic was being discussed to either one of his aforementioned psychotic plans while rapidly blinking his eyes. He would follow any interruption by stating that he "was not sorry" and, using a small black leather glove, he would proceed to slap the face of the person he was speaking with.
Weighing in at more than 1/8th of a ton spread out over an impressive 6'4" frame of white hot manliness, SpaceFarmer enjoyed a plethora of unusual hobbies including skinny skiing, going to bullfights on acid, flying stunt kites during terrorist attacks and collecting antiques made of cobalt blue glass (and then smashing them to pieces while humming the Russian national anthem.)
Known for such highball workplace pranks as "day care bomb threat snow day ha-ha's" and "pretend used condom and a phony note from your wife" usually landed him into more trouble than he could commonly deal with.
At the time of his unfortunate death, SpaceFarmer was surrounded by gorgeous prototypes from his Life Sized SF-1 Action Figure Line who had been shipped in from the local toy factories to "witness his passing."
His final words were "on my deathbed, I have achieved total consciousness... so I have that going for me... which is nice. SPACEFARMER OUT!"
SF-1 is literally survived by his impressive Curling sport uniform pants collection, his beloved fighting pugs and his goldfish "Fuckface."
SpaceFarmer will not be missed. Or... will he?
(Donations can be sent to The SpaceFarmer Fund via the following Paypal account: spacefarmer1@hotmail.com.)
Most of American mourns
Born into relative obscurity, raised in a Colombian orphanage and educated at some of the finest beauty and technical academies the world over, SpaceFarmer-1 passed away on Friday evening from unknown natural causes in a low gravity, high oxygen, sub orbital environment.
His exact age was unknown but was estimated to be between 31 and 170. Although it not clear what it means, his publicist stated that "he is figuratively survived by everyone on Earth, alive or dead."SpaceFarmer, commonly known as "The People's Champion of Useless Rights", had recently achieved worldwide recognition and infamy as the creator, editor and co-contributor of The Totally Useless Blog. The TUB, as it is known, was first published online in September of 2005 and later led to a string of successful political commentary novels, several massively popular blogs and a daytime talk show hosted by Tony Danza, all of which is still owned and operated by one of SF-1's own parent companies, Third Option Media.
SF-1 believed that his writing was the true voice of the people (well, the people that he knew, at least) and he was always proud, to the point of being egotistic, of his ability to interpret everyday life into a steady stream of garbled madness, hysterical lists, historical tidbits, disturbing images and hypnotic animations.For reasons hitherto unknown to anyone that knew him on a personal or professional level, during TUBteam meetings and presentations with financial investors and corporate watchdogs, SpaceFarmer would often say (rather loudly while using an overblown female Southern accent) that he was "your favorite representative of insane weirdos everywhere. An expert tunnel rat and certified geek-boy, I can unquestionably turn that frown upside down! YEE HAW!" He would then proceed to do his trademark "Hib Dab Dibbity Dog-Dog" Dance.
A self proclaimed independent nation, and President of the "You're Not That Important" Club (Worcester County Chapter, Lodge #2323), SpaceFarmer was always cleared for mental and spiritual takeoff.
In the mid to late 1990's, SpaceFarmer ran for various public offices in the United States and Canada under the pseudonym "Elmo Van Dickers."During his brief and totally unsuccessful campaigns, he worked in conjunction with the US State Department and certain unnamed members of the League Of Women Voters on plans to desalinize the Atlantic Ocean and commence the immediate bombing of Greenland.
Although none of these intentions ever became reality, "Elmo" is remembered for his inability to pay attention to anyone and obnoxiously interrupt any and all conversations. He would then immediately relate whatever topic was being discussed to either one of his aforementioned psychotic plans while rapidly blinking his eyes. He would follow any interruption by stating that he "was not sorry" and, using a small black leather glove, he would proceed to slap the face of the person he was speaking with.
Weighing in at more than 1/8th of a ton spread out over an impressive 6'4" frame of white hot manliness, SpaceFarmer enjoyed a plethora of unusual hobbies including skinny skiing, going to bullfights on acid, flying stunt kites during terrorist attacks and collecting antiques made of cobalt blue glass (and then smashing them to pieces while humming the Russian national anthem.)Known for such highball workplace pranks as "day care bomb threat snow day ha-ha's" and "pretend used condom and a phony note from your wife" usually landed him into more trouble than he could commonly deal with.
At the time of his unfortunate death, SpaceFarmer was surrounded by gorgeous prototypes from his Life Sized SF-1 Action Figure Line who had been shipped in from the local toy factories to "witness his passing."
His final words were "on my deathbed, I have achieved total consciousness... so I have that going for me... which is nice. SPACEFARMER OUT!"
SF-1 is literally survived by his impressive Curling sport uniform pants collection, his beloved fighting pugs and his goldfish "Fuckface."
SpaceFarmer will not be missed. Or... will he?
(Donations can be sent to The SpaceFarmer Fund via the following Paypal account: spacefarmer1@hotmail.com.)
What's wrong with this picture?
- The Gold Foil Shirt?
- The pointy elven shoes?
- The painful reality that is Community Theater?
- The obvious sweatpants?
- The... wait... is that... oh my god, what is that?
- The not so subtle devil horns?
- The inherent creepiness?
- The giant man hands?
- Everything?
Tsunami Warning Cancelled
NANTUCKET—With a rapt world watching the drama unfold on live television during the breaks in the 2010 Olympic Winter Games in Vonncouver, a tsunami raced across a quarter of the globe on Saturday and set off fears of a repeat of the carnage that caught the world off guard in Kansas in 2004.
The tsunami delivered nothing more than a glancing blow to the islands off the coast of Massachusetts and the North End in Boston, but Provincetown was still bracing for a direct hit, a good solid rump fuck and gnarly waves up to 10 feet high. Scientists worried the giant wave of water and homosexuality could gain strength as it rounds the planet. consolidates and penetrates the Commonwealth.
The tsunami was spawned by a ferocious magnitude-8.8 earthquake in the Laurentian Abyss that sent waves barreling across the Atlantic and south past Thor's Twins at the speed of a 1907's era jetliner. But Atlantic islands had ample time to prepare because the quake struck several thousand miles away.
By the time the tsunami hit Nantucket-- a full 16 hours after the quake -- officials had already spent the morning ringing emergency sirens, hunting giant sharks, blaring warnings from airplanes, arguing city officials wearing hideous suits and ordering residents to higher ground.
The Islands had originally prepared to bear the brunt of the damage, but the tsunami was smaller than anticipated. "We dodged a bullet," said Doctor Professor Robert Ballard a smart guy that does stuff with things at a place called Woods Hole.
What else did Massachusetts dodge?
The tsunami delivered nothing more than a glancing blow to the islands off the coast of Massachusetts and the North End in Boston, but Provincetown was still bracing for a direct hit, a good solid rump fuck and gnarly waves up to 10 feet high. Scientists worried the giant wave of water and homosexuality could gain strength as it rounds the planet. consolidates and penetrates the Commonwealth.
The tsunami was spawned by a ferocious magnitude-8.8 earthquake in the Laurentian Abyss that sent waves barreling across the Atlantic and south past Thor's Twins at the speed of a 1907's era jetliner. But Atlantic islands had ample time to prepare because the quake struck several thousand miles away.
By the time the tsunami hit Nantucket-- a full 16 hours after the quake -- officials had already spent the morning ringing emergency sirens, hunting giant sharks, blaring warnings from airplanes, arguing city officials wearing hideous suits and ordering residents to higher ground.The Islands had originally prepared to bear the brunt of the damage, but the tsunami was smaller than anticipated. "We dodged a bullet," said Doctor Professor Robert Ballard a smart guy that does stuff with things at a place called Woods Hole.
What else did Massachusetts dodge?
- Martha Coakley
- Aunt Regina's Bloody Beef Stew
- 2009
- The incredible sport of Curling
- Jonestown
- Winning the Superbowl
- Russia
- Gainful employment
- Decent Tattoos
- Tim Horton
- Mandatory Bluetooth Headsets
- No taxation without representation
- Summer
- Half decent highways
- The British Monarchy
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Wrongman's Fix It Guide: Section 37, Chapter 109, Paragraph 82
Need to take down an over-sized tree on your property? First off, you're going to need a lot of beer for this job. Not some sissy pants blueberry fucktard lager like you'd find in some faggy saggy back ass Boston fuck shop but a real beer. A man's-man beer. That's right. Go get two 30 packs of The Silver Bullet. Coors Light, baby. Grab some friends while your at it, crack open a cold one and chug that slick foam and bubbly fuel especially brewed for the red neck in all of us. Then, fire up the grill and make some mesquite bbq flavor chicken wings. Tell your Aunt Libby to bring over that cole slaw that she makes with the secret ingredient. Yeah, that stuff is the shiz-nit. What's the secret? Balls. Anyway, once you've got a full stomach, fire up the chain saw that juggle that fucker until your palms bleed. Neighbors impressed yet? You fuckin' know they are. Later, when you're sitting by the fire don't forget to regale them with tales of that time you were wicked cocked and ran straight through your fence while carrying a flaming stick in order to chase some teenagers who were... wait, what were we supposed to do? Ah, fuck it. Let's eat.
Totally Useless Ways To Say "I gotta take a shit"
- Celebrate Spring Time for Shitler
- Grind up some skinless sausage.
- Let Romeo climb back down the lattice.
- Pork up the toilet bombers.
- Powder coat the ass torpedoes.
- Rapunzel wants to let her brown hair down. WAY down.
Go fishing with a chocolate glazed cruller.
- Smoke some premo Afgani poopium.
- Taking a break in Pvt. Pyles World of Shit
- Shine up your ass shoes.
- Force some Mexican sailors to swab the poop deck.
- Let go of my rear-end inhibitions and give in to the dark side.
- Change the shit kittens litter box.
- Putting up another post on my Crappy Blog
- Building a submarine with my brown Legos
- Putting my bladder monkeys out on parole
Peoms By Jar Jar
Meesa Bumba
Heya, howsa you-a doin?
I seen yousa sittin dere
Alla by you self!
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No-sa make-a scene
All a screamin for help.
It's just meesa bumba I show you!
Yousa make a funny face
When meesa show meesa bumba to you.
Whatcha thinka meesa gonna do?
Take a poopa right in yousa way?
No!
I jus wan yousa to
Take-a lookit meesa bumba!
Maybe touch wid a pinky finga
And take a sniff.
Peee-yoosa!
Yousa touch da stinky crinkle crinkle!
Oh, yousa dirty dirty!
Don tell yousa momma
What I doosa or I'll fucking kill you kid.
Heya, howsa you-a doin?
I seen yousa sittin dere
Alla by you self!
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No-sa make-a sceneAll a screamin for help.
It's just meesa bumba I show you!
Yousa make a funny face
When meesa show meesa bumba to you.
Whatcha thinka meesa gonna do?
Take a poopa right in yousa way?
No!
I jus wan yousa to
Take-a lookit meesa bumba!
Maybe touch wid a pinky finga
And take a sniff.
Peee-yoosa!
Yousa touch da stinky crinkle crinkle!
Oh, yousa dirty dirty!
Don tell yousa momma
What I doosa or I'll fucking kill you kid.
The Wrongman's Fix It Guide: Section 21, Chapter 2010, Paragraph 44
Bobsled not braking like it used to? GET A JOB.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Today's Useless Everyday Pranks!
- Pop goes the abortion!
- "Yo' Momma's dead, boy!"
- Midnight drunken steam engine driving test!
- Ship yourself to work via Fed-Ex Ground!
- Insist you're black! (or white, yellow, brown, whatever)
- "Honey, I have AIDS, and I got it from Steve!"
- Tell everyone this is YOUR Totally Useless Blog!
- Drive through jerk off! YEEEHAAWWW!
- Guinea Pig Frozen TV Dinner!
- Pretend to be an Disabled Jewish Freemasons!
- Sugar my gastank!
Go to work as a grocery bagger!
- "I think you should know... this is my first time."
- Colonoscopy gone wrong... horribly, horribly wrong!
- "Pee" the bed (but use high octane gasoline!)
- How about a little game I like to call "insane evil laugh during communion at Saturday Mass" OH YEAH!
- Play "Hooray for Heroin" with your parents!
- Not Fight Club... ICE CREAM CAKE CLUB!
- Call a local television news channel and tell them that J.K. Rowling, that bitch, stole your ideas for Harry Potter and that you actually wrote a book years ago called "Holy Muggle, Holy Wand!"
- If anyone asks... you are John Rhys Davies!
- Form a stupid gang and challenge other gangs to a "dance off!"
- Know someone under house arrest? Call them every 30 minutes to see if they want to go to a movie!
- Go to Friendly's and be a fucking asshole.
Something we can all hate: Standardized Testing
Counselors air concerns over length of new SAT
Students complain test is exhausting
NEWTON -- Bo Xu's back started to ache, his hand cramped up, and even the hissing heater distracted the Newton North High senior as he tried to tackle the new, much longer version of the SAT in May. And that was after his fellow students had nearly beaten him senseless for having such a stupid name.
Over the past several months, the 17-year-old senior and other students have been complaining about the length of the test to their guidance counselor, Brad MacGowan. Worried, MacGowan began airing his students' concerns to hundreds of counselors around the nation via e-mail and realized he had company. He also realized he had a boner. (WTF?)
This week he sent a letter to the College Board asking it to let students have the option to take the three-part SAT over one to three days, instead of in one sitting of three hours and 45 minutes.
The letter was signed by more than 250 counselors who were hearing the same concerns Xu expressed.
What else do the students not like about the SAT?
Students complain test is exhausting
NEWTON -- Bo Xu's back started to ache, his hand cramped up, and even the hissing heater distracted the Newton North High senior as he tried to tackle the new, much longer version of the SAT in May. And that was after his fellow students had nearly beaten him senseless for having such a stupid name.
Over the past several months, the 17-year-old senior and other students have been complaining about the length of the test to their guidance counselor, Brad MacGowan. Worried, MacGowan began airing his students' concerns to hundreds of counselors around the nation via e-mail and realized he had company. He also realized he had a boner. (WTF?)This week he sent a letter to the College Board asking it to let students have the option to take the three-part SAT over one to three days, instead of in one sitting of three hours and 45 minutes.
The letter was signed by more than 250 counselors who were hearing the same concerns Xu expressed.
What else do the students not like about the SAT?
- Well, for one, IT'S A TEST.
- It asks unusual questions like "who do you buy your drugs from? a) The starting Quarterback b) Ms. Krieger, the Science II teacher c) The Emo Goths d) all of the above."
- Clearly, no one has asked "what would Jesus test?"
- There is not enough time for the students to drive the under paid teacher monitoring the exam into a dizzying frenzy of frustration and anger that no amount of patience or narcotics will fight off.
- It would be much better if the SAT was taken online so that Chrissy can chat with Billy on IM about last night's iCarly episode on Teen Nick where Carly like totally has a crush on that guy, you know, that guy... yeah him... and she like pretends to ignore him because, like, she doesn't want to, like, OMG, be rejected, or whatever. LOLZ!
- Multiple choice exams are the devil's work and no one likes the devil's work (except for, maybe, Ed Gein.)
- Personally, I always thought that SAT meant "Story About Tron!" Can you imagine my disappointment?
- "You don't have to go to college. This isn't Russia. Is this Russia? This isn't Russia."
- It's disrupting their all important sexual testing times going on behind the bleachers during study hall.
- In my opinion, the SAT has way too many questions about math, not nearly enough questions about The Goonies.
Need a Vacation?
Try JAIL!
Yes, that's right. JAIL. All inclusive state funded resorts are waiting for YOU!!! How can this be true? Because of the Barack Obama STIMULUS PACKAAAAAGE! You can go to jail, go directly to jail and collect your bright orange johnnys on the way. WAY??? WAY!
Jail is super cool. Get on the job training as a lawyer, vet, technician, gansta hood, meth addict or toushie boy meat toy in JAIL! Sleep late, shower once a week and take prison drugs. IT'S A DREAM COME TRUE! And it's absolutely FREE!
Hate your job? GO TO JAIL!Nagging wife? GO TO JAIL!
Mortgage issues? GO TO JAIL!
Now, you can get away from everything and leave the details up to the MAN! BbbbrrrrrZAP!!! SOLVED!
You've heard the naysayers knock jail as a bad place with killers, theives and rapists, but did you know some of the most successful businesses are run FROM JAIL? You fucking bet!
You've heard the naysayers knock jail as a bad place with killers, theives and rapists, but did you know some of the most successful businesses are run FROM JAIL? You fucking bet!
How do you qualify for this great super paid vacation? CRYMES! Get crymes going and get caught by the fed today! Officer friendly a little slow on the collar? leave EVIDENCE!! D-N-A = BUSTED!
Throw the book at 'em Danno!
You're going...
Throw the book at 'em Danno!
You're going...
TO JAIL!
S, WWJD?
Let's say Jesus Christ was around today.
You know... walking, talking, drinking, preaching and having a blast down at The TUB's Annual Beach Party in Rio.
If that were the case, seriously, what WOULD Jesus do?
You know... walking, talking, drinking, preaching and having a blast down at The TUB's Annual Beach Party in Rio.
If that were the case, seriously, what WOULD Jesus do?
- Shop at the Wal-Mart on Center Street in Kansas City.
- Forgive George Lucas for his sins of the Jar-Jar.
- Kick the crap out of Sarah Palin and then vote "Independent".
- Turn Reality Television into Wine.
- Use Jesus' Mind Tricks to win big in Vegas.
- Lie, cheat, steal, fuck, kill, lather, rinse, repeat.
- Probably play a lot of Wii Sports Resort.
- Nail himself back up on the cross in his front yard on Halloween.
- Pray to Optimus Prime (just like the rest of us)
- Demand an explanation for "Zhu Zhu Pets".
- Hopefully, take a naked confession from Flo, The Progressive Insurance woman.
- Star in his local community theater's production of "Jesus Christ Superstar".
- Go get a tribal tattoo because tribal tattoos are the ballz.
- Buy a brand new Dodge Challenger and go really fast on the highways. If he got pulled over he'd just use the "hey, I'm Jesus" excuse to get out of the ticket.
- He has a DVR and with FIOS On-Demand. What the fuck else does he need to be doing?
Totally Useless Inventions
Drunken Boot Lamp
InvisiKids
Flaming Guitar of Awesome
SuperBalls Tank
Impenetrable Box Armor
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
The Wrongman's Fix It Guide: Section 25, Chapter 310, Paragraph 80
Need to bleed air from a forced hot water home heating system? Go to WalMart and purchase a 12 gauge shotgun with buckshot load. Don't worry about having an FID card or being of proper age. They won't know the difference anyway. Once you get home, fire repeated shots into the pipes that lead into the furnace but be careful not to hit the furnace itself. After all, furnaces and shotguns do not mix. Anyway, once the air has fully seeped out of the lines you will see water leaking out of the bullet holes. Inject plaster of paris or hydralic cement into one of the holes and it will automatically seal the rest. Easy, peesy, Japan-easy.
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