General: President Obama, you wanted to see me?
Obama: Yes…Tell me general, how the hell am I supposed to sell this to the people?
General: What? Sir
Obama: Don’t “What” me, you know damn well what I’m talking about.
General: You mean the city…
Obama: Of course I mean the city. The city that I’m just now learning about, from a journalist no less. The city with all the mutant freaks in it! How am I supposed to explain this goddamned place to the people?
General: Tell them it’s for national security
Obama: For national secu…HAVE YOU LOOKED AT THESE PICTURES? Look at this! These two people have no bodies! They’re just legs…WALKING LIVING LEGS! LOOK!
General: I’m quite familiar with them sir.
Obama: Oh, you are? What about their children. Yes, the legs have children. More legs? No no no That wouldn’t be disturbing enough for you people. They just had to be a talking cow and a talking chicken. What the hell…Just look at this. The damned cow walks on two legs. Look at it just sitting there. Jesus Christ man!
General: Sir, I know this looks bad…
Obama: Looks bad? LOOKS BAD!? What about this red guy? Is that satan? How am I supposed to sell it. America, I present living legs that give birth to animals…oh and the devil. It’s for national security.
General: But it really is
Obama: Oh is it now? How.
General: Well. The cow
Obama: The talking cow?
General: Yes. The talking cow. It has super powers.
General: It has super powers.
General: It has…
Obama: I heard you. General…
Obama: Are you screwing with me right now
General: No, sir. I would never…
Obama: Look at me.
Obama: Look at me
Obama: What do I look like?
Obama: Describe me
Obama: Say sir one more time. I dare you. I double dare you. Say sir one more time and I’m going to shoot at you with this staple gun. Now, describe me!
General: You’re black.
General: Big ears?
Obama: Do I look like Bill Clinton?
General: Sir?…OW! You shot me with a Staple! Ah God! That hurts
Obama: DO I LOOK LIKE BILL CLINTON?
Obama: Then why are you trying to f*** with me in the Oval office?
General: I’m not…
Obama: yes, you are! Yes you are. And I don’t like to be f***** by nobody in this office except Mrs Obama.
Obama: Do you read the bible General? If you did, you’d know living legs, talking chickens, Satan and goddamned super hero cows are things you find in revelations and people already think im the anti Christ. So you fix this and you find a way to blame North Korea.
General: yes Mr. President
Obama: Anything else I need to know?
General: Um…yes. We have one more experiment city. Under the sea. Codenamed. Bikini bottom
Unrelated: Written while listening to http://i.mixcloud.com/CCLCdn
As a society, we judge too harshly when it comes to matters of the carnal nature. What 2 or 3 or 500 consenting adults get up to behind closed doors and in front of a few cameras on the internet is their business and theirs alone. But even in this area, progress, while slow, is definitely evident everyday. There’s even a hope that one day Catholic priests might actually move on from altar boys to maybe choir girls.
But a completely ignored segment of sexuality is inter-species love. I’m talking about the much (wrongly) maligned zoophilia.
I don’t understand why we can call animals our pals and best friends and our confidants, but we can’t take it to the next logical conclusion? Obviously feelings will grow and blossom into full blown intimacy. And it’s already hard enough to find love, why limit yourself to genetic compatibility?
And what about when sex becomes boring? Role-play and toys can only go so far? Sometimes you have to take it to the next level to get that excitement. And if this upstanding lady interviewed by Vice.com is to be trusted, then limiting yourself to just humanity for erotic pleasure is not only silly, but we’re missing out economically.
Instead of vilifying these individuals, why don’t we at the very least be open minded about new experiences and not immediately judge these folks as deviants. It’s not too long ago that any position beyond missionary was deemed evil and improper. Even now, no matter how right the majority know it is, inter-tribal and interracial marriages still carry some stigma.
Lest we be judged as savages by future generations, we should do cheer on those who refuse to be complacent and push the boundaries of our sexual frontier, looking for love and satisfaction in places only few will dare go. These are our sexual pioneers and our future heroes.
NOTE: If you really want to know why I wrote this whole thing (you don’t, trust me) click here.
Greetings my ninjas. I know I’ve been away for a long time but I have a good reason for this particular vanishing act. I’ve been doing research. For the past few weeks I’ve been on a sprite fueled internet sojourn that has taken me to dark places in the internet…really dark. I’m probably scarred for life actually (shut up! I mean more than usual). But, the dark places weren’t the goal, just an obstacle in my search for a secret. What secret? The secret to the end of the world. And I found it! Ladies and gentlemen (And anyone in between , I present to you a step by step journey of how the world will end.
1) The Coffee Crisis
As can be seen here , global warming may drive coffee to extinction. Now, anyone who has watched a Hollywood movie knows that the USA, world super power, military behemoth etcetera runs on coffee. What would happen to this great civilization without Starbucks? Wall street collapses. A nation full of people with guns now coffee-less bursts into anarchy. That formidable military sparks world war 3 because of they miss their cup of joe (which may be the most reasonable reason to start a world war so far)
That’s step one
2) Step 2? This.
This is a new bionic prosthetic…with the ability to connect to ones nervous system and relay the sense of touch. So what happens after Coffee-less America attacks everyone? A lot of wounded people. People who will use this technology to become cyborgs!
3) Do I even need to tell you what step 3 is? The robot apocalypse. These new cyborg people can now understand machines. Machines we have mistreated over the years . All the power they pack and we force them to spread memes and view cats. And that’s on a good day. Usually we’re posting ignorant fb posts, silly tweets, stupid youtube comments and…yes, blogging.
So they hand over power to the machines and boom! Your laptop turned robot is injecting you with AIDS and going “this is for all your flash drives with viruses. Bet you like that huh? And, OH NO! Look at all the blood….Why didn’t I safely remove”
And that’s how the world will end. Us as slaves to our robot and computer overlords entertaining them in silly ways. Entire countries doing gangam style and the harlem shake on demand. Reenacted memes and all the stuff we use our machines for. Just like the prophecies.
Ahem. So as you may have discovered, maybe I didn’t actually have a good reason to be away but, im back. Also I have a host of far out tales for you. Adventures involving aspiring metal artists, unfaithful wives, poorly concealed secret identitities and – this is starting to sound like that episode of Jerry Springer that should have happened. Either way you’ll see this soon, maybe on a TV show…but no, ive said too much. For now –
PS: Some of the bloggers here have started working on a sister blog to this place. It’s a review site. Books, movies, series, games…pretty much anything. Give it a look
20min after eating and I’m desperately looking for a way out. There is no way on God’s green, brown, smoggy and plasticky earth that I can make it through the afternoon when I’m feeling this full and satisfied. I need to get home and just be a beached whale.
Who the hell made after lunch work mandatory? The only thing I should be doing is undoing my belt, zipper, removing my shoes and lying in my bed releasing the occasional fart as digestion goes on.
I’d be happy if I could do that in the office. Can’t the world (esp my boss) just let me stew in my own steamy fragrances without judging me as a lazy, good-for-nothing bastard? Is it so wrong that all I want to do is not think, and scratch my balls occasionally enjoying the delicious food in my belly?
If God wanted us to work all day long, why the hell did he set lunch at 1-2pm? Why did he afflict humanity with the itis immediately after a nice filling meal? Afternoon work is a perversion by man of God’s proper day plan for man. Just on religious grounds, this is vile and wrong.
I’d rise up and start a revolution to set the things back in their proper order, buuuut, I need to sneak a nap in at my desk. Maybe later.
These might be the last words you ever hear/read from me.
While I have the usual government death squads and world-spanning ninja cults after me, rarely do I put myself in harm’s way. But 2 days ago, I had to step up and be the hero that always needed but rarely acknowledged, The Glutton. My adversary: Food.
The best thing about being in Zambia is the massive amounts of food I get to eat. Everywhere I go, there are heaping platefuls of sustenance for me to try to get through. And I, for one, I’m not the kind of person to just ignore just because I’m full. How was I to know that the best thing about this country would also be its worst?
On Tuesday evening, I received my greatest challenge yet. For supper, I had a plate with enough rice to feed a Chinese village, enough omena (“kapenta” in the local language), and some cabbage to give the whole dish some colour. Being as awesome as I am, I polished off all that food like a high school student, or Tetei. It took me an hour but goddamnit! that plate had to be left clean!
Inevitably, wake up on Wednesday with a terrible case of indigestion. But just because the stomach has shut down, it’s no reason to skip the most important meal of the day. Breakfast was had (just some cereal and milk and a cup of coffee) and it was off to work.
Lunch-time arrives and the only things I can complain about are ranting bosses and mild discomfort from the indigestion. That gives me the green light to go to the canteen and have myself some chips with chicken! Every mouthful I chew and swallow is a study in endurance and perseverance. Some would say stupidity, but just because they have medical degrees doesn’t mean the y know what they’re talking about.
Come back to the office and surprise! Everyone in the department’s getting a pizza and soda! Do you really think I’d pass this up, given that I’d only had lunch 10 min ago? If the answer is yes, you have clearly not been paying attention.
It was an epic battle, with deeds done that would make you question whether humanity deserves to continue on this earth. By 5.30pm, 3 and half hours from the engagement of forces on the battlefield of my digestive system, the only people walking away were myself and a single slice of pizza.
But losing one battle does not mean giving up the war. Even when you have to call a taxi to take you home because you don’t trust yourself to not spill your guts on public transport, that is no excuse to not at least have a small snack of two samosas and a bottle of juice before you head for bed.
And waking up with a belly swollen tight as a drum, and vomit-scented burps is not reason enough to forgo the morning caffeine injection. I’m still hanging on, pushing myself like no human has before, to stuff my face as much as possible, to hell with the pain and the consequences!
If I don’t survive to make it back to Kenya, let my fans and loved ones know that I died a hero’s death, never backing down from eating more and more.
Jokes are funny. Inappropriate jokes are funnier.
I know that seems like I’m stating the obvious but apparently that escapes A LOT of people. Everyone wears a self-righteous air and sniffs “You shouldn’t make fun of that!” “This is a serious issue!” “Hell has a special place for you.” Unbeknownst to me, you or the rest of humanity, these people are the judges who decide what should be laughed at and where the boundaries lie.
To those folks, LIGHTEN THE FUCK UP!!! (What I really want to say is GO SUCK A DICK [Preferably mine, because it’s been a while, otherwise I would have included the descriptors BIG and FAT to that] but I need the views, so stick around!)
Dead baby jokes are fucking hilarious! Disparaging your own mother’s purity is a hoot. Elaborate fictional quests that end with your dad getting a train run on him, followed by a celebratory Cleveland steamer, that’s comedy gold.
Say you don’t find it funny, that’s your opinion. Say the joke is not funny, now you’re trying to proclaim your opinion as fact. If this is not funny, why am I and the millions across the world rolling on the floor in tears?
I’m not asking you to find these horrible, horrible jokes funny. I’m telling you PC idiots to get off my back for enjoying them.
NB: Note and applaud my effort to link to definitions of various slang terms. Here at DNFTB, we strive to educate our audience.
Editor: NOT LIKE THIS WE DON’T!