Pennsylvania Lottery spokesgroundhog Gus was arrested this afternoon in Erie for indecent exposure while filming a commercial for the lottery’s newest $30 instant game, “You Just Lost 30 Dollars!” Gus, who is always seen wearing a shirt but no pants, was taken into custody after an elderly lady happened upon the bare waisted rodent taking […]
via Lottery Mascot Gus Arrested for Indecent Exposure — gooferie
Do not let this Vogon read you his poetry.
Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is quite clear on the point that Vogon poetry is the third worst in the universe:
“Vogon poetry is of course, the third worst in the universe. The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their poet master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem “Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit One Midsummer Morning” four of his audience died of internal haemorrhaging and the president of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. Grunthos was reported to have been “disappointed” by the poem’s reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his 12-book epic entitled “My Favourite Bathtime Gurgles” when his own major intestine, in a desperate attempt to save humanity, leapt straight up through his neck and throttled his brain. The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator, Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings (Paul Neil Milne Johnstone) of Redbridge, in the destruction of the planet Earth. Vogon poetry is mild by comparison.”
It is my endeavor to make it the fourth worst poetry in the universe:
There happened a witch who lived on a hill,
of diminutive size, but enormously shrill.
Unpleasing her countenance: all icky and warts,
when wickedly she cackles, how it twists and contorts.
Her stench so loathsome like eggs and arm pit,
one whiff and you vomit in your mouth just a bit.
Small animals would flee, never again to be seen.
At least they weren’t trampled, as they well could have been.
Her sisters she’d gather, all cellulite and hate.
They would cackle and hiss and brag of the children they ate.
And eat they did much in their murky morass,
they had thick chunky thighs, like a hippo’s fat ass.
“We will taunt, we will curse, as well we see fit,
with toil and trouble and all that Shakespearean shit.”
Their husbands did cower in a deep and dank well,
for their wives weren’t just ugly, they’re mean as hell.
But for these poor ladies, all their efforts did fail.
In the end it’s the hero who will always prevail.
Now the creatures just hide in a dark and dank place,
chugging Coors Light and stuffing their face.
Does this tale have a moral, I don’t know it just might,
but probably not: I’m not very bright.
And now Vogon poetry is the fourth worst in the universe. Thank you.
Have a happy Towel Day and please:
The trip was brief.
The controversy has endured.
Four Big Macs were purchased. Four Big Macs were present in the take-out bag. Four Big Macs were removed from the take-out bag. One person claims to have never gotten a Big Mac. Three others claim to have eaten only one Big Mac apiece.
Accusations have flown. Accusations still fly.
That fateful night:
The names have been changed to…screw it, these are the actual names.
Lance: Give me my Big Mac.
Matt: You ate it.
Lance: No I didn’t.
Matt: Yes you did.
Lance: I think I would remember eating a Big Mac.
Matt: Evidently you don’t.
Lance: Hey Al, you ate my Big Mac didn’t you?
Al: (Al grunts something inaudibly as he consumes his Big Mac, and drools on himself.)
Me: Well I didn’t eat it.
Lance: One of you ate my Big Mac!
An hour later, sitting on Matt’s front porch.
Lance: I can’t believe you guys ate my Big Mac.
Matt: You ate the Big Mac!
Lance: Look at me, I have no sesame seeds on me. If had eaten a Big Mac, I would have sesame seeds all over me.
Me: Maybe the seeds fell off.
Lance: What about the lettuce? What about the secret sauce? There’s not a drop of secret sauce on my face…I can’t believe you guys ate my Big Mac.
Years later:
Lance: Remember that night you guys ate my Big Mac.
Matt: YOU ate the Big Mac!
Still more years later:
Lance: I really wanted that Big Mac that you guys ate that night.
Matt: (Says nothing in an act of silent frustration.)
More recently:
Lance: One of you ate my Big Mac that night.
Matt via email: There’s no dispute, Lance wolfed it down in two bites.
Lance: That’s not how it went down.
Like Amelia Earhart’s strange disappearance into the Bermuda Triangle; the years have offered no answers, only more questions.
So if you’re ever traveling on that mysterious stretch of road, and you have take-out, be wary.
Cry Wolf Satirical News (COVINGTON, La.) St. Paul’s School is well-known for its haircut policy requiring any student whose hair grows past a certain length to cut it, as well as shave any facial hair they have, or face disciplinary action. A St. Paul’s student has reportedly joined a gang and fallen into a […]
According to the office supplies on Natalie’s desk, Highlighter has become frustrated with the dating scene due to reasons purportedly beyond his control. He claims that his need to be the center of attention is innate to his character and cannot be altered. “I just want someone to love me for who I am,” Highlighter […]
Being held for public indecency.
Traffic at the intersection of routes 28 and 85 in Rayburn Township, Pennsylvania, was shut down by a pair of cows having amorous relations. According to Trooper John Corna, troopers “kept trying to shoo them off the highway, but that just got the bull mad and it started to escalate.”
Of course, it made him mad, wouldn’t it make you mad if you were trying to have an intimate moment with your lady friend, and some dude started shooing you?
Well, it really ticks off bulls.
In a previous post about bull-riders, I detailed a few things that bulls hate. I may have left that list a tad incomplete. So in the interest of completion, (pun intended) more things that make bulls angry:
If I have left anything off the list, I apologize.
It’s really irritating when you want to finish something, but can’t; just ask the bull.
“Say shoo to me one more time.”
So I recently stumbled across a news story that detailed how a man in Holland Township, Michigan, accidentally set fire to his apartment. The fire spread and destroyed eight other apartments in his building and damaged two dozen other units.
When he set fire to his apartment, he was doing something that some might describe as ill-advised. Others would say it was foolish. But to most of us, it was an act of downright stupidity.
What was it that he was doing when he set fire to his apartment?
The following is a list of possible things the man in Michigan was doing when he started the fire.
Which one do you think is the real story?
“Stand closer–what could possibly go wrong?”
“I can’t believe that didn’t work.”
So what do you think?
If you don’t feel like guessing, here’s the story: nbcnews.com.
It’s been a long winter without much of a spring in New England, and I was beginning to get worried about the malaise that Spot–the dog puppet you may remember from Pets.com commercials–had fallen into. He’s usually a chipper little chap, but lately he’s been taciturn . . . phlegmatic . . . distrait; and those are just […]
QUIRKY little motor not exactly attracting mates. Gavin Rowlocks, a Fiat Panda owner, has been very disappointed by the level of female desire his vehicle arouses. “I thought women loved cute creatures,” complained Gavin. “How can they resist a car that resembles an endangered giant bear from behind – right down to its adorable ear-like […]
via Fiat Panda driver discovers he’s very unlikely to breed — The Daily Squabble
idiotpruf 