The friendly woman at the gym did really say that the friendly staph was there to serve us?
Category: Humor
In Order to Form a More Perfect Punned-It-Ocracy II
I guess, then, as the opposite of disenfranchised voter, an enfranchised voter is a voter whose product, votes, is available in many different locations, such as several different polling places or states.
Humor, or Precognition?
The Best Way to End the Huge Partisan Divide is a Bloody Civil War by Frank J.:
For years now, the country seems to have been split down the middle, and its eating away at the soul of the country. Usually, you have one group get a majority which then pushes around the other side and makes fun of how their children look, but the old way seems so distant now. How can we return to the former status quo? As usual, war is the answer.
Now all Americans will be united and happy, because the liberals will no longer be defined as Americans and will be shot by BBs.
It’s been a long time since we’ve had a civil war, but hopefully we learned plenty from the first one to make this one quick and efficient. It will be quite different, though. For one thing, it won’t have a stark geographical divide. Friendly and enemy territory will have to divided on a house to house basis – or maybe even room to room. Also, a big difference is that one side has all the guns since both gun owners and the military tend to be in the right-wing. This should make things easy if planned well.
I would be laughing if I didn’t think it was remotely possible.
Ban guns and try to make gun owners turn in their weapons and we’ll find out.
Pickup Lines That Never Worked For Me
Hey, baby, care for some excessive palpation ? (Link SFW.)
Let’s see how many people click over to an almost-unrelated post on Ann Althouse’s blog with that lead-in.
Election 2004 Guest Commentary
In an effort to broaden the commentary here on MfBJN, we’ve sponsored a roundtable-style discussion of Election 2004:
GOZER
Subcreatures! Gozer the Gozerian, Gozer the Destructor, Volguus Zildrohar, the Traveler, has come! Choose and perish!
RAY
What do you mean, choose? We don’t understand!
GOZER
Choose! Choose the form of the Destructor!
PETER
Whoa! I get it, I get it. Very cute! Whatever we think of – if we think of J. Edgar Hoover, J. Edgar Hoover will appear and destroy us, okay? So empty your heads. Empty your heads. Don’t think of anything. We’ve only got one shot at this.
GOZER
The choice is made! The Traveler has come!
PETER
Whoa! Whoa! Nobody choosed anything! Did you choose anything?
EGON
No!
PETER
Did you?
WINSTON
My mind’s totally blank!
PETER
I didn’t choose anything!
RAY
I couldn’t help it. It just popped in there!
Enjoy your president, America. He just popped in there.
Ads I Don’t Like
For no other reason than because it’s my blog and I wanna, I’m going to lay upon you, gentle reader, three advertisements or advertising campaigns that really get on my nerves.
- Dry pits win.
I can’t remember what antiperspirant company put out this weird line of print ads (and it serves them right, my proud ignorance). But if you’ve been reading a men’s magazine of any stripe–Playboy, Maxim, or Esquire–for the last year, you’ve seen this abominations. In a romantic setting such as a nice restaurant, riding on a horse on a beach, or lying on a carpet before a crackling fire, we espy an attractive woman (a different one in each ad, just like in James Bond films) canoodling with what appears to be an armpit with strange, three-toed feet). In each instance, this bizarre creature is seated, so he’s bent, and the feet are where the ribcage should be, and where the arm should be we have no head, just a flat spot like the damn thing’s not only hairy in the front but decapitated.Jesus and mary chain, what the hell kind of bad acid trip in a muddy-field rave inspired this thing? I mean, I can understand a tendency to want to appeal to the average schlub who knows he doesn’t look like those eighteen year old pretty boys who pout their way through the pages between the cheesecake on the front cover and the table of contents, but good God, man, who identifies with an anthromorphized armpit? I mean, this set seriously creeps me out.
I mean, when the armpit has its fun in its one night stand and romps off with the next hot model in the next exotic locale, stranding the heartbroken previous hot model who thought she could tame his untamed but dry armpituous nature alone and unfortunately pregnant because he used the line not only am I dry, but I am sterile, you’ve got to wonder what will those poor children look like?
- AAA Insurance.
You might have heard the radio commercials in the “Why would you pay for insurance you’re never going to use” campaign. Lord knows I have. Whomever, whoever, or whatever wrote these ought to be handling a run for office somewhere. “When you have AAA insurance, along with a AAA membership….” you get insurance you can use for free towing, discounts when you show your card, and so on.What the wet sprocket? With the purchase of bleach and bread, I can make a sandwich, but I’m not using both for it. How on earth do they expect to convince a rational person to purchase their insurance by hyping the AAA membership, which is $105 a year for the Gold plan last I checked? Who can trust a vendor who tries to sell you the falcoing insurance for a lot of money to give you the separate advertised features thrown in for a little extra?
Apparently, they’re targeting undecided voters, too.
- GMC Trucks
Built professional grade, huh? Perhaps you’ve seen the particular commercial where they tout the individual, 4 inch galvanized steel bolts they use to bolt their truck beds to their frame. They illustrate this by linching a pulley with a single one of these bolts and winching a truck to the ceiling with that pulley while a guy in a lab coat, undoubtedly an underpaid Quality Engineer who should only have faith in the tests and never in the products tested, stands underneath the truck while it’s creaking on the line and single bolt.Then, with the music coming up but before it cuts to the still featuring the latest financing package, a truck roars into the frame at probably thirty miles an hour and skids to a stop, fishtailing it forty degrees over a very stern Professional Driver. Closed Course. Do Not Attempt caption that does its best textual impression of James Earl Jones warning you about skidding in your automobile. Personally, I’ve never gotten the whole idea behind using footage of the vehicle out of control to sell a car, but I work for a living.
Message: Don’t try some small fry fancy maneuvers while driving unless you’re a professional; however, standing under your truck while it’s swinging from the rafters on a single bolt is a perfectly good way to spend a Saturday afternoon. Chumbawamba, how many half-gassed suburbanites have to die while trying to impress their hemi-having neighbors before this commercial carries the appropriate number of antilitigatory warnings that if you consume hyberbolic acid, you could have a bad trip?
Thanks. I feel better now, but not much.
I Thought So
Here’s what passes for hard-hitting investigative journalism here at MfBJN. Our crackhead staff contacted our sources looking for insight into John F. Kerry’s plan:
Click for full size
I had to get a screencap because I understand that thirty seconds after I click Publish Post
, George Soros will go the extra $75 to buy that domain.
You want to know the length I will go for a gag? It’s obviously less than a single domain name registration. There you have it.
Free PUNchline
Red Hair Ring.
Write your own joke around it. Jeez, do I have to do everything?
Lyrics Misheard by Emily Dickinson
Jane’s Addiction, "Been Caught Stealing":
We sat around the pile.
Sudden Pelf.
Sudden Pelf and
Waved it into the air!
And we did it just like that.
When we want something,
We don’t want to pay for it.
Brian Misses Hockey
Emily Dickinson, Poem 544, circa 1862:
The Martyr Poets — did not tell —
But wrought their Pang in syllable —
That when their mortal name be numb —
Their mortal fate — encourage Some —The Martyr Painters — never spoke —
Bequeathing — rather — to their Work —
That when their conscious fingers cease —
Some seek in Art — the Art of Peace —
Opening Fire with the Forward Moonbattery
The Bush administration, which rules the world and all of nature through Haliburton and Enron and Martha Stewart Omnipedia with the full support of the Optimists International and Boy Scouts of America, has decided to distract voters from its horrible environmental policies which are turning the northwest into desert and are strip mining all of the sanity from the northeast by temporarily closing the ozone aperature that its supporters at Coppertone paid for.
It’s the only possible explanation!!!1!!!
Where Is the Spirit of the Internet?
Come on, guys, when do we get to do some photoshops of the CBS logo? Here are some to get you started:
Now get to it!
When Cleverness Fails
I’ve racked my brains and broke my wit to come up with a suitable surrounding joke where the punchline is a pun of malfeasance as mall fee seance.
Cripes, I’m not man enough to do it.
The New T-Shirt
Joke
This woman, who’s a real *UNT, told me this joke today:
An old woman, watching the news, sees the traffic report and calls her husband, who’s on his way home. “Honey, be careful on 270, they say there’s someone driving the wrong way.”
He says, “One? There’s hundreds of them!”
My mother’s sister is so spunky. When used regarding a six-year-old, that adjective’s just precious. Applied against anyone over fifty, the adjective’s condescending and ALMOST SEEMS TO BE SPOKEN SLOWLY AND LOUDLY, have you noticed?
Man the Forward Moonbattery!
With oil prices going up and temperatures unseasonably cool, isn’t it obvious to anyone else that Enroniburton has secretly reversed global warming to pump up its profits this winter?
Am I the only one connecting the dots dancing before my eyes? Come on, people, wake up!
An Irrelevant Link
Humorist Frank J., who will probably enjoy publishing success before I do (the bastard!), pens:
Truth to power.
Lileks Embraces Noggle Apocalypse Investment Strategy
James Lileks, in a Back Fence column, embraces the Noggle Apocalypse Investment Strategy when describing what’s in his bug-out box:
Half a dozen liquor miniatures. Only for bartering purposes, mind you. The dollar may be worthless, and we may be reduced to swapping as we fight our way to Fargo.
“Halt! To pass you must pay the toll. What have you to offer, stranger?”
“Well, I have, uh, a pelt -“
“Where? I see no pelt.”
“Well, the dog’s wearing it right now, but – hey, I have these little bottles of hooch. And I’ll toss in some waterproof matches, only used once.”
Remember, the Noggle Apocalypse Investment Strategy promotes three investments:
- Arable land somewhere isolated.
So you can grow enough food for you, your concubines with which you’re going to repopulate the human race, and the optional cult of followers. - Guns.
So you can defend your land from interlopers and your concubines from other alpha males in your cult of followers. - Liquor.
So you can trade something besides other alpha male pelts with the neighboring cults. Hopefully, they’ll have something other than pelts or liquor to trade.
Stealing Documents In Socks: A Primer
The story continues to unfold about former National Security Advisor Sandy Berger stealing classified documents from secure locations. Apparently, Mr. Berger was seen to inadvertently place classified material into his socks to accidentally remove them from the premises. Although it provides an interesting detail to titter about, the documents in socks concept might not be easy for users to visualize.
Our crack staff at MfBJN provides this simple guide into how you, too, can steal documents in your socks. Eyewitnesses here at MfBJN have seen this technique used successfully in the field by adolescents who absconded with enough copies of High Society magazine to make them walk like little tin men, so it’s proven effective.
- Take your garden variety secret document:
- Take your garden variety politico leg, clad in nice socks, slacks, and black shoes:
- Hike up the trousers. Note the extra long sock and no sock suspenders:
- Slide the sock down:
- Roll the document around the leg:
- Pull the sock up:
- Drop trou, so to speak:
- Stand up:
Document? What document?
So you can see, there is room for semantic disagreement that some of Sandy’s defenders have seized. Is it in his socks? No, no, it’s in his trousers!
Of course, this technique rules out any accidency inherent in the action because this is a well-crafted criminal strategy. Berger comes from a long, proud tradition of juveniles who can go into a convenience store with a dollar and come out with 2 bottles of soda, 3 packs of gum, 2 comic books, 1 sports magazine, and change.
Were But That It Were True
Pardon my mangling of the subjunctive tense, which many of you did not know existed anyway, but read this article:
Nations [sic] Liberals Suffering From Outrage Fatigue
Unfortunately, it’s The Onion. Curses!