Quote of the Day

"Do you need some wood?"
-The President of the United States of America

Abercrombie and Fitch: Right?

Not necessarily on their own merits, but they're just right by default by virtue of the idiotic statement of their opponents: in this case, USA Gymnastics.

USA Gymnastics president Bob Colarossi is asking the clothing retailer to stop selling a T-shirt that has the slogan "L is for Loser" next to a picture of a gymnast on the still rings. The sport's governing body also asked members to boycott the store until the T-shirt is pulled.

"No individual, regardless of race, gender, age, intelligence or athletic ability, can or should be deemed a loser," Colarossi wrote in a letter to Michael Jeffries, chief executive officer of Abercrombie & Fitch.

Bobby, Bobby, you need to relax. That statement right there proves definitively without a shadow of a doubt that you are a loser. Who but a kid who got beat up constantly from elementary school through high school for being in gymnastics would grow up to say something like "No individual, regardless of race, gender, age, intelligence or athletic ability, can or should be deemed a loser." That is the loseriest statement I believe I've ever heard in my entire life.

What do you mean the camcorder wasn't working?

(I'm riding this theme as far as it will take me)

My God! Wow! Did you see that? That was unbelievable! Honey, honey, did you see that? Wow, I can't believe I just did that! You taped it, right? I can't wait to get back home to watch that one. Wait, what? What do you mean the camcorder wasn't working?

For the love of God, Lindsey! You're telling me you missed it? What the fuck were you doing? You were standing right there the whole time with the camera at your eye. I saw you! Did you just want to see what it would have looked like if you had theoretically recorded me wrestling with that alligator?

"Low Batt?" Are you kidding me? Low freaking Batt? You must be joking. "Low Batt" just means you can still take movies, but it might cut out. For the love of Jesus, Lindsey, what were you saving the battery for? What were you saying to yourself? I mean, what the fuck was going through your mind? "Wow, look at him pin that alligator to the ground. That's pretty great, but I'd better save the battery in case that polar bear eats another fucking fish!" Wouldn't want to miss that, would you Lindsey?

No, I will not stop cursing! I'm making a scene? Oh, I'm making a scene, am I? Well I'm going to have to disagree with you. I think I made the scene when I pryed our three month old first born out of the jaws of that alligator while you stood there holding a pointless fucking camcorder to your eye!

Out of tape? Out of tape? Well Christ, Lindsey, make up your mind. Pick one bullshit excuse and run with it, alright? Well look at that, it is out of tape. Isn't that something. You know, maybe you should have thought of the tape when you decided the fucking penguins were worthy of enough footage to cut into a major fucking motion picture!

Yes, Lindsey, it was that important. It's not everyday an alligator crawls out of his little swamp and grabs your baby. It's not everyday you rip open an alligator's mouth and stick your arm between his serrated teeth to grab your son from the jaws of death. It's not everyday you bean an alligator bloody, pin it down and proceed to pummel it to within an inch of its life. How many times have you done it? Because I've done it once. And it would have been nice to get it on fucking tape! Meanwhile, we come back tomorrow I guaran-damn-tee you the chimp will still be hanging from the tree. Yeah, thank the Lord we got that on tape.

By the way, when do you plan on watching this footage? Because I imagine I'd be playing the tape of me overpowering an alligator to everyone we know, many times. So I hope you'll play the footage of the tiger sleeping at least five times this week. That seems about right, doesn't it hun?

No no, Mr. Zookeeper. We're fine. I'm just having a discussion with my wife. My name? Well after today, maybe we ought to change it to Zapruder! That sound good to you sweetie? You know, I hear Zapruder saw someone with a gun on the grassy knoll but didn't get it on tape because he stopped by the Dallas Zoo this morning to tape some pandas eating bamboo!

Oh, I'm making the baby cry, am I Lindsey? Aw, that's a real shame! I wouldn't want to make the baby cry! Sure, I just saved its fucking life. Sure, if it weren't for me he would have been an alligator's lunch. Do you remember that Lindsey? When I put my life on the line to save our child and spilled that alligator's blood all over this fucking zoo with my bare hands? Well if you don't remember, we can go home and watch it on tape, can't we Lindsey?

Sorry won't cut it, Lindsey. Sorry just isn't enough. Sorry doesn't put alligators on tape. Sorry doesn't ensure the posterity of man's greatest triumph over the brutality of nature. Exaggerating? How many alligators have you wrestled today?

We're through, Lindsey. That's it. We're through. I can't wake up next to you every morning for the rest of my life, because I'm just going to think "there's the woman who missed the greatest moment of my life. There's the woman who stood by me during the greatest moment of my life and didn't press the fucking record button." Do you like that Lindsey? Is that how you want to be remembered? Well too bad.

Wait. Hey zookeeper. Bring the alligator out again. I can do it again. I did it before. Why can't I do it again? I won't tell anyone you let me. I promise. You will? Thank you! Thank you so much! Alright, Lindsey, maybe you should give the camcorder to someone else. Just give the baby to the alligator, 'kay hun?

It doesn't get better than the Best of Balderdash, folks

RGP
Really Gay Pirate
The Fork

Titenia
The act of kicking a soccer ball really hard.
Steve

“Her Sister’s Secret”
A cheap comedy in which the first lady’s sister experiments in witchcraft in an attempt to control the President’s feelings on foreign policy.
Rioux

Feb. 7, 1949
Visiting FDR’s grave, Clark Gable throws up on a nearby plot.
Me

E. Vincent Wright
In the 1950s, he unsuccessfully attempted to introduce a 5 wheeled automobile.
The Fork

I am so Jewish

Look at the bump in that nose! Good Lord, I must be the Jewiest Gentile in history. Plus, I'm cheap.

Put me in Germany in WWII and I'm getting shipped off to Auschwitz, no doubt about it.

A quote that continues to make me laugh even a year after hearing it

"I was convinced that the 'MC' in MC Hammer stood for Michael Caine. When I found out it didn't...I destroyed his career."

-Michael Caine
Caine Secrets

I don't want to die in this grain silo!

(A continuation of a theme of stylisitic ripoffs of an Onion column)

I always felt I was going to die young. I can't explain why. It's just a feeling I've had as long as I can remember. It never really scared me. It's always just been an uneasy acceptance. But I'll admit it. Now that I'm staring death straight in the eyes, I'm scared. I want to live! I don't want to die in this grain silo!

What an ignoble way to go. Sitting on top of a mountain of grain at the very top of a silo. I can't even stand up. I wonder who will discover my body and what they'll say. Someday someone's going to need some grain and they'll find my corpse. Hopefully I will have anticipated the moment of death so I can have a look of brave defiance on my face. What could he say? He'll probably just take off his hat, lower his head, and wonder what kind of God would allow a father in the prime of his life to get trapped in a grain silo.

I've tried eating my way out, but it's terrible. Have you ever eaten a silo full of grain? Without so much as a drop of water? Didn't think so. I can't even eat a bowl of dry Cheerios. I need a glass of milk, orange juice, something. I don't have any of that. It's just me and a steel cylinder filled with grain.

I wanted to die an important and honorable death. Sacrificing myself to knock some schoolchildren out of the way of a speeding train. Taking a bullet for a Supreme Court justice. They would have given me a plaque. A special ceremony. What do I get for being trapped in a grain silo? A fifteen second story on the eleven o'clock news? I don't want news of my death to be prefaced by the phrase "An odd story tonight." And I certainly don't want it to end with "Investigators are baffled."

I've tried everything. I tried swimming to the bottom. I couldn't even get my whole body undergrain. You'd be surprised how compact a silo full of grain is.

They write poems about people who fight valiantly against diseases at a young age. They write epics about people who do battle against powerful foes and great armies. What do they write about people who get trapped in grain silos? Articles in the "Lighter Side of the News" section.

I'd like to dictate my final will and testament. I hereby give all my worldy possessions to my son under the condition he doesn't share them with my bitch ex-wife Sandy. My final wish is that I be cremated and that my ashes be returned to the grain wilo in which I drew my last breath. Then, I would like to be baked into a loaf of bread and fed to Sandy unsuspectingly. She is only to be told after she has finished the bread.

Goodbye, cruel world! My God, why have you who created me just thirty years ago sentenced me to my death in this tall, wheaty tomb? Have I displeased you? I went to confession, asked for forgiveness. And what do I get in return? Death in the company of grain!

Death is not far away so I'll close now. I have one final wish. Remember me not as I died but as I lived. Outside of a grain silo.

Stella Was a Leaper and She Was Always Up

She brooooooooke away.

5000 points to the first person who gets the reference.

(Requires QuickTime)

UPDATE: I'm moving this back up to the top because I (hopefully) fixed the link to the video.

Laugh now!

Oh

Yeah

Toolin' Around

I've been messing around with the site a little bit. Now scroll down to find some Links of Some Comedic Merit on the right side.

WARNING: SOME LINKS FEATURED MAY BE SHAMELESSLY PARTISAN. SHRIMP PRODUCTS IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE BIAS OF THESE SITES. SHRIMP PRODUCTS BELIEVES IN FAIR, EVEN-HANDED SATIRE AND DOES NOT CONDONE UNFAIRLY BIASED COMEDY.

Reflections

If I ever get hit by a car, I hope it's an ambulance.

On the other hand, I would not like to be hit by a hearse.

Bad Emo Lyrics of the Day

You know what this place needs? The insecure scrawlings of whiny eunuchs. That's why I'm bringing you the Bad Emo Lyric of the Day. Today's selection is from the heroes of whiny, self-obsessed, self-pitying losers and vapid high school girls across the country. "Hands Down" by Dashboard Confessional.

Breathe in for luck,
breathe in so deep,
this air is blessed,
you share with me.
This night is wild,
so calm and dull, [This is the kind of line that forces a high school English teacher to swallow his pride, write "nice juxtaposition," and lament his missed opportunities.]
these hearts they race,
from self control.
Your legs are smooth,
as they graze mine,
we're doing fine,
we're doing nothing at all.

My hopes are so high,
that your kiss might kill me. [That's funny, because my hopes are so high that this kiss will kill this guy too. Well, anything will do, I guess. A kiss, a bus, a comet...beggars can't be choosers.]
So won't you kill me,
so I die happy.
My heart is yours to fill or burst,
to break or bury,
or wear as jewelery, [Some folks will do anything for a rhyme.]
which ever you prefer.

The words are hushed lets not get busted;
just lay entwined here, undiscovered.

Safe in here from all the stupid questions.
"hey did you get some?"
Man, that is so dumb. [Some folks will do anything for meter. I think the only way to make this line any worse would be to say something like "That is, like, so dumb!"]
Stay quiet, stay near, stay close they can't hear...
so we can get some. [What woman can resist this beautiful linguist? This poet, this romanticist, this master of the language of love. "Stay quiet so we can get some."]

My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me.
So won't you kill me, so I die happy.
My heart is yours to fill or burst,
to break or bury, or wear as jewelery,
which ever you prefer.

Hands down this is the best day I can ever remember,
I'll always remember the sound of the stereo,
the dim of the soft lights,
the scent of your hair that you twirled in your fingers
and the time on the clock when we realized it's so late [Ha!]
and this walk that we shared together.
The streets were wet
and the gate was locked so I jumped it,
and I let you in.
And you stood at your door with your hands on my waist
and you kissed me like you meant it.
And I knew that you meant it,
that you meant it,
that you meant it,
and I knew,
that you meant it,
that you meant it.

When one searches for Dashboard Confessional lyrics on the Internet, he inevitably runs into some sites dedicated to bad teenage poetry. So if you can't get enough whiny self-pity, check out this site. It's less fun than it could be since the poetry is submitted by people who can laugh at their bad teenage poetry phase as opposed to sincere goons at whom we can laugh, but there's still some pure gold, as Bania would say.

Three Pictures for a Lovely Sunday

And to think. In the next town over there was someone even taller than him.

KUMAR: Who's dat? Who's dat man?

"Are you tired of struggling with conventional ice cream scoops? Think there must be a better way?"