Made up Words, part II

broly fratrimony - the platonic affection of two men for each other, also known as bro love.

clapioca pudding - tapioca pudding so high in quality that it merits applause

clapioca pudding - tapioca pudding so filthy in content that it gives you gonorrhea.

crapioca pudding - tapioca pudding so poor in quality that it resembles fecal matter.

Serious Text Messages

People these days seem to use text messages for everything, from making plans to checking in at home. They really are a brilliant and convenient way of transferring information. There's only one realm that hasn't been fully explored: the serious text message. With the utilization of the following text messages, you, too, can express yourself without annoying face-to-face time.

To hold an intervention for your friend: a group text from four or five people with the message "UR DOIN 2 MUCH HEROIN".

To announce an unexpected pregnancy: "GOT N ABORTION 2DAY IT WUZ URS SRY"

To end an unsatisfying marriage: a picture message of a cat with the text "I CAN HAS DIVORSE?"

Using these helpful examples as a guide, I'm sure you will have no problem streamlining your future correspondences to more manageable proportions.

Made-up Words

andickquity (n.)- the state of an old man's penis

anpoopomorphism (n.)- the attribution of human traits to one's own bowel movements.
ex. "I swear, he was feeling shy today. And when he came out, he looked like Leslie Nielsen!"

antipissestablishmentarianism (n.)- the practice of bars not letting their patrons urinate

Translations of the Minifeed Updates of My Facebook Friends (Names Have Been Changed)

Pretentious McGee is really annoying.

Mild-mannered but Dull Girl actually not feeling grammar good today.

Some Bitch I Met One Time is sharing not only unnecessary but entirely banal information about her life.

Former Drinking Buddy is getting really drunk every night for the next two weeks.

Girl I Had Sex With is safe from persecution.

Some Dude I Met One Time is desperately trying to acquire friends online.

Big Fat Kid is bitching about something no one cares about.

Girl From High School is accidentally posting everything twice.

Pretty Yet Vacuous Girl like music! Song lyrics!

Evelyn Townsend is questioning, why? why? why?

I have decided to limit my diet to food stolen from high society functions. The only problem with this plan is that I live in Binghamton. I'm very hungry.

My Beauty Secrets

I saw a comedy show performed at another college last night, and it reminded me of how retarded most people are.  I really am better than everyone else in the world.  It's going to be hard to procreate because I don't think it's possible to find another human being that even remotely lives up to my greatness.  Did you see that last sentence?  Most people confuse its and it's, but I remembered the apostrophe.  Even my grammar is impeccable.  Many disciples have followed my for years, desiring the secret of my greatness.  I suppose it's time for the big reveal.

I only eat semen.

Next time you find yourself getting raped, you don't need to fight back physically. Try using puns to get the rapist on your side. After the two of you have a good laugh together, he'll realize he was just being silly and totally release you!

Ex: I've got a sizeable problem with your dick in my ass.

Bad Times to Inject Heroin

On the way to work
On a roller coaster
While giving a toast at your sister's wedding
While your sister's yelling at you for doing heroin during the toast at her wedding
At a parole meeting
On the way to court-ordered rehab
While actively fleeing court-ordered rehab
While being brutally beaten by rehab orderlies
While being brutally ass-raped by your new cellmate
At this point, just do some heroin. You've earned it.

Why I Fuckin' Hate Pandas, Conclusion

It's all been explained. The poor eating habits, the bad parenting, the sexual inadequacy. And now I make a plea to all those environmentalists who would attempt to save the "Great Panda" (great, my ass). Don't. Stop. Save the habitat if you want, as there are other, more worthy animals and plants gracing its territory. Save something endangered and ugly, something with a little more drive to live. It's like watching your alcoholic father spiral deeper and deeper into addiction: we can't help the pandas until they decide to help themselves.

Why I Fuckin' Hate Pandas, Part III

Poor Parenting

The panda mother raises her young on her own, with no help from the father. While some humans also raise children reasonably successfully under these circumstances, they generally don't leave a premature infant in a cave for three to four hours while they loll around and chew leaves (one exception might be the South American feral coca addict). This thing is pink, hairless, and blind. It is not merely like a baby: it is like a baby's wiener. It is left completely defenseless and open to being eaten by just about anything strong enough to overtake a blind, hairless, pink, immobile blob.

Great job, panda moms. Way to help any efforts that are being made to protect your species.

Why I Fuckin' Hate Pandas, Part II

To further my argument from yesterday through a Wikipedia quote:

the Giant Panda has a diet that is primarily herbivorous, which consists almost exclusively of bamboo. However, the Giant Panda still has the digestive system of a carnivore and does not have the ability to digest cellulose efficiently, and thus derives little energy and little protein from consumption of bamboo.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Mating


Pandas suck at mating. Everybody knows this. For some reason, it is widely known that pandas are unable to fuck in zoos. Well, that's just fucking pathetic. It's for the continuation of your fucking species, learn how to pop a top hat Johnson.

In addition, pandas are only able to have one or two babies each year, a dismally low amount for something so lazy and lard-ridden that it is likely to roll off of a cliff within its first year of life.
If a panda mother does end up having two children, she is so void of parenting skills and resources that she actually has to let one of them die. "Honey, we had twins!" "Ok, get a shotgun and a bucket of lye."

Jesus, Jesus Christ, I fucking hate pandas.

More on the female pandas' terrible mothering abilities to come.

Why I Fuckin' Hate Pandas, Part I

Dietary Restrictions

Pandas can only eat bamboo. A huge beast that weighs hundreds of pounds can only eat bamboo. Somehow, this seems like not the best plan. If pandas would be willing to sink their teeth into the flesh of a young billy-goat and/or child at the zoo, I'd give them more of a shot at survival. Instead, their best plan seems to be sitting around threshing leaves and shoots from highly fibrous, difficult to digest plant matter. Well, good luck maintaining that body weight, pandas. But if you want any help from me, all I'm going to offer you a is a fucking cheeseburger.

I Fucking Hate Pandas

more later.

Fun Words for "Diarrhea"

booty juice
butt soup
Mississippi mud slide
Cosby avalanche
backwards period
wicked storm of anal hellfire from above

Some people are vegetarians with the exclusion of fish or poultry for health reasons. I'm a vegetarian with the exclusion of beef because I really fuckin' hate cows.

UPDATE: Aunt Jemima Syrup Continues Containing Child's Blood

After further investigation, Aunt Jemima has been arrested and jailed following allegations that her breakfast syrup contains child's blood. Police raided her wooden shack in the Southeastern United States and discovered a secret network of under ground bunkers, dug by the child slaves Jemima fattens for the slaughter and lined with their bones. Officer Paul Braxton was present at the scene.
"It was awful", he said. "Everywhere you looked there were dirty children in cages, moaning in agony. Occasionally syrup would be drizzled over the cages to feed them. Feeding children with their own blood..." Braxton then vomited in a nearby trashcan.
Jemima, or "Auntie", as she would force the children to call her before she forced them to perform sexual favors on her 80-year-old body, was taken from the complex in a bloody battle police are referring to as "Flapjack Friday". She tore the jugular vein of a police officer who was trying to contain her and sent an entire SWAT team to the ER with third degree burns after pouring blistering hot syrup on them as they attempted to enter.
Further details were revealed in the ensuing investigation. Jemima's trademark red bandana is actually used to mop up the blood that drips from her mouth after feasting on infant kidneys, one of her favorite snacks. She reportedly kept a bowl of them on her desk at all times. Files were found connecting Jemima's evil complex to some of her other products. Police have made no official statement, but anonymous sources say that the pancake mix consists of ground bones and dried child semen and that the cornbread mix is made of corn that was grown in overly dry conditions.

Aunt Jemima Syrup Made From Child's Blood

Researchers who were investigating children's diabetes recently made a surprise discovery that Aunt Jemima brand breakfast syrup is mainly composed of child's blood.
"We were obtaining a blood sample from a boy who had recently eaten pancakes", said researcher Bernard Worrelstein, "and for some reason we couldn't explain, the DNA of the sample did not match a previous one we had taken. "
"We discovered that the change in blood makeup was due to a syrup patch on the boy's arm right where we had inserted the needle. After testing the syrup on its own, we determined that it is over 90% child's blood. We feel that this has serious implications for the [boring scientific mumbo jumbo]", said Worrelstein.
Investigations are currently being made to fully determine the truth behind these allegations. In unrelated news, Aunt Jemima stock has recently risen 32 points.

This counts as Thursday

ps- I'm not drunk.

My best friend had a cat. Said cat used to piss on his towels. It died this summer. We took it to the vet in a towel. That was the last towel it ever soiled.

A Statement on Practicality

We seem to be lacking in practicality every day, and the way in which I usually notice this is in the style of our populace. Until the prevailing style involves muumuus and tool belts, I probably will never be satisfied. However, we as a people are missing one glaring opportunity. There is a way to combine practicality and style into the most potent orb of bad-assness. A way that involves only some grooming and natural growth. A way that will lead you to the afro (a variant of this term being jew-fro, another perfectly acceptable look).

The afro is not only fashionable with its shape and volume, but can double as a useful storage device for anything from a comb to a toothbrush or some toothpicks to clean your teeth after meals. I have even seen a glorious movie called Foxy Brown in which the protagonist pulled a pistol from her fro and wasted a room full of people. Therefore, the fro can even save your life. It is the ideal blend of a tool belt and a designer gown. People, get on it.

I recently saw a commercial for a Burger King sandwich called the "Angry Whopper". It shows a farmer "torturing" a young onion (using whips, electrocution, etc). This "angry onion" is then put into the aforementioned burger. A customer, upon eating the burger, actually yelps in pain from the intensely spicy flavor of the product.

Despite the utter stupidity of this advertisement, it struck on a trend I have noticed throughout American cuisine: the love of foods so spicy that they cause intense physical pain. Thinking from a marketing perspective, I realized that this concept could translate into a whole set of other opportunities. I have created a burger of ultimate discomfort, which I plan on selling to either McDonald's or Wendy's as soon as possible.

I call it: The Ultimate Burger of Doom.

The Ultimate Burger of Doom's advertisement will begin by explaining the concept of "angry beef", the central component of the recipe. A farmer will be shown "torturing" a young cow (using whips, electrocution, etc), slaughtering it, and storing the meat for two weeks in a 120-degree environment. Upon eating the burger, a customer will actually yelp in surprise, then rush to the bathroom, where he/she will spew diarrhea for days with such forcefulness that they risk death. There will then be a scene where the customer lies on a hospital bed, arms and legs stuck full of IVs which make a vain attempt to rehydrate them. Their ass is still actively spewing matter, though at this point it is mostly rice-water. As they look back over their life, they reminisce over all the burgers they have eaten, and realize that The Ultimate Burger of Doom was indeed the best. At this point we will cut to quick clips of raging bulls, screams of "Can you take it?!?!", and other images that will incite our customers to feel emasculated if they don't sample our burger.

"The Ultimate Burger of Doom...your ass is grass. Or more accurately, a literal river of shit."

The following is a limerick about "Eloisa to Abelard", the poem by Alexander Pope

A lady penned up in a yard,
wrote to her sweet Abelard.
The quills of her pen
sung insatiable yen,
that sweet Abelard would fuck her hard.