YSaC, Vol. 827: And this person votes, ladies and gentlemen.
This one’s behind a cut because it has it all — misspellings! rampant homophobia and racism! a solid wall of text! utterly unrelated pictures! swear words! mentions of sex acts! inappropriate pluralizations using the letter z!
And, for good measure, the word predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence. No, really.
Through Era’z ‘n Eon’z Of Change In Contact: Kid’z Be Sluts (Maria’z Purposeful Nips ‘N Things)
In the day, it was pulp, Puerto Rican rum soaked jack-off rags. They were internerant were they not, with no responsibility. No “citizenship” wrecking arount theys should to remind them that” “On the boat. Nut to butt, spit out the tobacco, and, girls, such his freaking dick off now, Dick Off Now, DICK OFF NOW, DICK OFF NOW! because the boat’z leaving, the train’z leaving, the bus’z leaving. Get the job done – DONE! girls. But all of what you know – KNOW! now, as knowledge, is going on-screen, is it not, onto the “downloaded” screen, and motherfucker if you can pro~nounce the word: Download, to your priest without cracking a smile or hitting the side of your retarded duaghter’s face-off so she can stop laughting at your white ass, than of course the best to you. If you can say ‘download’ to anyone – ANY ONE! without the fear of them knowing your face in ecstacy, than your a homo-sexual. Homo-sexuality is a deviancy is it not, a lonely sin. The males of homo-sexuality are miserable, are they not. If of you never exploded into a pussy of a woman you are a feak. Nobody. Excect, of course you. You turn to the light, for truth and guidance. You don’t find it. To the darkness and of course, suprise for there is only darkness. It is sad and too sad, of course. We, of thee, our Lord, Gwad, do not judge, but pity – But Pity, BUT PITY, BUT PITY! You’ll go to hell but there is no waste. A man homo-sexual is merely twisted like a garden hose ‘r a rope, ‘r a thumbellina, ‘r a gas nozzle, ‘r a bus-line’, ‘r a bank account of a crack whore, and of course the chorrus rings out: “Look at the company you of in. You can prostate yourself, but you still must, for foregiveness suck very dick that comes up into your face.” Change thy’s mind. Your children will not be stupid and the myth can continue, this myth of course is human growth and the predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence of sustainable growth. There’s lots of bars.
-the workingman
I just have one thing to say to you all.
Download.
Thanks, Madison!
I tried to prostate myself once. I won’t tell you what happened in case kids are listening.
The unrelated pictures are REALLY bothering me. It’s like there’s some code that’s just out of my reach. There must be a meaning there somewhere. If only I could piece it together I’m sure the origin of life and the universe would be revealed.
Or you’ll open a doorway to another dimension, possibly one made of shrimp.
Or the dimension where there is no shrimp.
That is the saddest dimension of all, next to the one where puppy-kisses are toxic.
Looking at these pictures, I notice each has a faceless or vaguely faced person with a hand hovering somewhere near crotch area.
Meaningful? I think kid’z be sluts….
Except the bottom left one that I think looks like a Ninja Turtle, that one represents man’s inhumanity to man. Or man’s inhumanity to bowling balls wearing bandannas.
Look behind the ball – there’s a statuette of a human figure with arms hanging down.
Are you sure those are arms?
It looks like the sort of statuette sometimes found in Egyptian tombs – facing forwards, one foot out in front and arms down by the sides.
:reads dense Wall-O-Text:
Ummm…
:re-reads dense Wall-O-Text:
Gwad, that was hard to get through. All I got from that was that I’m a “feak” because I’ve never blown up a woman, an act I’m sure Sparky has to perform nightly. Unless he has an air compressor.
Also – What the hell?
Gwad is a woman. ‘the workingman’ doesn’t seem to be happy about that.
Through eras and eons of change in contact.
Y’know,
That explains my luck recently.
We’ve got an air compressor. I really really don’t recommend using it to blow up anything.
Is it okay if I didn’t torture myself and read the wall of text? Am I going to be yelled at for not wanting to deal with that?
Not reading is always an option!
It probably makes you a better person, ’cause I’m pretty sure a piece of my soul dies every time I read it.
So….how many pieces of soul are gone now? Like elebenty?
The good thing though is that the soul grows back and if you have no soul, all you have to do is marry someone with a soul and you’ll get half.
It’s like staring into the sun … I keep telling myself to stop but I just gotta look.
Mama always told me not to look into the eye’s of the sun
But mama, that’s where the fun is!
I’m not going to attempt reading until my next cup of coffee is
finisheddownloadedManfred Mann FTW!
I’ll tell you one thing about the homosexuals I know, of both genders, “workingman,” and that is that they all write better than you do. Maybe I’ll ask them write you some … nice invitations to come out of the closet?
Workingman sounds like another something-man who has graced us with his presence in the past.
Thank the goddess for the absence of
candormanSparky.Thank Windrose for her blantant disregard of the first ammendment. 🙂
Thank you, Windrose!
The first what, now?
Windy did do an awesome job of editing that day, didn’t she?
*blush* Thanks, Mudsy, and everyone.
Actually, the 1st Amendment right is to speak, not to be listened to.
Thus, WR is fully within her/our rights to sit quietly with our coffee slices droping bins of smitars and guillotines out of our pagodas upon the deserving Sparkies–those wishing to imprecate Blogrians for the Qsrtf Tragedy at planetary volumes may do so, just outside (or after the one reading in this case).
We may or may not have a candidate for that, v.i., today.
That would be the tasty amendment: a-mm mm-endment!
I never had the edit function, still don’t. I can’t spell, and while I have a full qwerty, each key is about a centimeter squared, so there :p
I’m trying to decide if “BUT PITY” should actually be “BUTT PITY” and it’s a typo. He’s all about the homo-sexual and feels self-butt-pity.
PITY THE BUTT
BUTT PITY
Empathy for one with diarrhea?
BUTT PITY is the sound a shit storm makes on your roof.
What a fun manifesto! DICK OFF NOW! DICK OFF NOW!!! BUT PITY!!!
I got a hankering for some Puerto Rican rum so thank goodness there’s lots of bars.
I thought Sparky was concerned about his/her cell phone reception. The tin foil he/she lined the walls with probably messes with the signal.
I’m sure there’s more than Reynold’s wrap on those walls.
Especially if Sparky mixes Puerto Rican rum with “shirt time”. The booze could throw his aim off.
In the day, it was called ‘pulp’.
*shrug*
Learn something new every day.
So…”Pulp Fiction?”
“Pulp Friction”
Thought this started out as a sale of “tijuana postcards”; sleazy porn on cheap newsprint from a long-gone time ago.
But, it’s clearly not an ad for sale, or wanting to buy.
So, when did CL add a “Ranting While Hopelessly Intoxicated and With Decreasing Evidence of Non-inebriated Intelligence” section?
I think it was just after they did away with the adult services section. All those Sparkies are getting frustrated now.
Maybe it’s Butt Putty, which is some lube you don’t want to try.
The gay men I know are unhappy about things unrelated to being gay. And I know plenty of straight people who are unhappy about things unrelated to being straight.
I must be old-school because I just don’t get the lyrics in the rap music you kids listen to.
Some YSAC (cat?) math: day pass + library card/library computer = today’s post
Ahhh, I love the smell of the First Amendment in the morning!
Smells like DOWNLOAD!
Lola, it took me a long time to figure out what you meant by day pass. At first I thought of “day pass” as a bus pass good for one day and I wasn’t sure what you were trying to imply. Were you saying that Sparks= poor person, perhaps homeless or Sparks= crazy bus person (lots of those in this town)? Then I went to class and discussed Faulkner, left class, went to the library on campus, read your comment again and figured out you meant “day pass” out of an institution for pyschological disorders.
I’m slow on Fridays.
*golf clap for kelli*
😉
Whiskey.Tango.Foxtrot.
WHISKEY.TANGO.FOXTROT.
It gets worse the more times you read it.
Thank God I stopped after two….it’s like a swirling, black, vortex of nothingness that threatens to obliterate your soul.
I keep reading it, hoping it will make sense, but it looks like Sense did a dine-and-dash to ol’ Sparky.
While reading this I felt like I was transported back in time when I was in a class called “Great Books” and had to read Aristophanes. After long discussions about the greater meaning of his work, I came to my own conclusion “It is all about pie.”
What if pie is what it’s all about?
It’s not. They hokey pokey is what it’s all about.
I had a sneaking suspicion.
It’s all about Pi, in cat math, for this particular large value of weirdness that just goes on and on and on and on.
Rum.Download.Idiot.
RUM.DOWNLOAD.IDIOT.
Yeah, I know it’s supposed to be “WTF.” But that’s what I got out of the ad.
You’re right, this does fulfill my RDI for crazy…
Maybe it’s more of a Charlie. Foxtrot.
And now for a public service announcement…
“Kids, today’s post is a perfect example of why we don’t smoke crack.”
Thank you, Pee-Wee Herman.
I just watched that PSA the other day when Stephanae was talking about old PSAs and Schoolhouse Rock.
Nothing says “don’t do crack” like a guy in geisha makeup and a bow tie, talking like a cartoon character.
*Drinks Potion*
Al Sharpton becomes Rev. Jeremiah Wright
*insistent phone ringing in the distance*
Personally, I love a woman or man with a little predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence.. it makes them look multi-syllable’d.(*)
(*) – Yes, I made that up.
Multi-syllable’z?
Predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence. I haz it.
I think they make an ointment for that now.
If you take it in a pill, it works faster.
There’s something vaguely beautiful about the rhythm of this, actually. I say there’s a 50-50 tossup between this guy ending up institutionalized on one hand and being on the required reading list for AP English classes (alongside “Ulysses”) on the other.
James Joyce just whimpered a little.
I taught an autistic student in college English who, barring the obscenities, wrote JUST LIKE this.
So what are you saying? He’s got Tourette’s as well?
I think I’m saying my freshman English class could have been a lot more painful.
There was a guy in one of my lit classes with tourettes. He was a great guy, but nothing can turn a group of young college kids into, well, a group of young college kids quite like and unexpected shout of “whore!”
Alex, I will have to object to your use of the putative future tense in relation to “workingman”‘s institutionalization.
It is my assertion that it is more than obvious that “workingman” is a graduate (and potential escapee) from several institutions.
Is anyone else getting political ads in their sidebar? I want to know how Google Ads got “political ads” from a homophobic rant.
It usually takes a day or so for it to figure out what a page is about. I’m getting ads for deodorant right now.
That’s false advertising! Bork bought all the deodorant yesterday. They’re backordered for at least two more days.
I got a seriously creepy IMVU ad about “finding my Bella” or something. I suspect that’s a euphemism.
I saw that once on here. It was “Amazing T-shirt Day,” I think. Stupid Twilight.
I have an IMVU ad, too, but it says “Dress Up for Grown Ups,” which leads me to conclude that you’re right about “finding my Bella.”
Git in mah Bella!
…Sorry, it’s almost lunch time.
BEEEEEEEEELLLLLAAAAAAAAAA /Marlon Brando
I used portabella mushrooms in tonight’s dinner, so I guess I found my ‘bella, and soon it will be in mah bella.
Ditto for creepy, anime-like, imvu ad.
Why is that man smelling her hair?
Because her hair smells like used deodorant.
Coincidence? I think not.
Because she bought used un-river-ant for $10, and posted that as an avatar?
“finding my Bella” sounds suspiciously like a euphamism… something about golden lotuses… Though, given the topic of Twilight, [BEEEEEP. This rant has been removed in the interest of me not having to write it and go insane. Had this been an actual rant, there would be matt tags involved, and you would be asked to report to your designated stations. BEEEEEP.]
TO YOUR STATIONS!!! PREPARE FOR ASSAULT BY TWILIGHT RANTS!! AND CAPS LOCK(S?)!!!
Yeah, sorry, don’t know what came over me…oooh bad choice of words, but I don’t feel like deleting it because it’s an interesting conversational piece. End rant.
I’ve got some Bose headphones in my ad–they’ll be helpful as I try to block out the sound of my brain frying after attempting to comprehend this particular mindbomb.
I’m getting ads for pack rats…not sure if it’s promoting the pack rat industry or attempting to provide trashology therapy.
I thought it rather fitting. We need more funds freed up for health care.. exhibit A: ‘the workingman’.
Just for the record, I have a political ad that is anti-Nancy Spelosi.
Yeah, I’m getting “Vote for *******” ads, but I assumed it was from the word “votes” in the title.
My ad is perfect. It’s for a program that teaches skills for prekindergarten through 8th grade.
Sparky might need to sign up so that he can learn to write a wee bit more clearly.
My add is for californiapsychics.com…I’m not sure where that came from, maybe I should ask the psychics.
Don’t you see? They predicted something for tomorrow. The ad will have to do with something psychic tomorrow.
Did anyone else look at the bottom left picture and think “Ninja Turtle”?
I saw a Dalek having some kind of allergic reaction.
Admittedly, this may be the fever talking.
Okay, admittedly part deux, this may be a combo of the fever and drugs talking.
The fever is spreading! oh no!
soon we’ll all be hallucinating Dr. Who related things
Would that really be all that bad, Silva?
I haven’t hullicinated Dr. Who related things since
I tied upcame to an agreement with Ten.Your wish, my command:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzHnH9hVSiU
What would a Dalek have a reaction to? WD40? X-rays? Kindness?
I see a green balloon festooned with a wreath made out of a lifetime collection of used (aka ABC) purple bubble gum.
I thought it was a green easter egg with a wreath on it made out of Christmas tinsel. Holiday stuff.
It’s magical NMN. A kaleidoscope of possibilities. Everyone gets to admire and adore it through their own prism.
For using the word adore, I give you a door.
Awwww shucks, NMN. You’re a sweetie.
Funny, I saw a schooner.
Full of beer.
Funny, I saw a bar.
Full of schooner’z and bear’z.
I walked into a bar once.
Ducked the next time.
[duck, run, and grin]
I … don’t … what is … where … I … I … cucumber.
Wait, I have to take this in manageable chunks here.
So once there was “pulp,” defined as Rum-soaked whack rags from Puerto Rico. (Whence perhaps “quiet shirt time” came?) Now I’m never going to look at the chewy variety of orange juice the same way again.
These “pulps” were irresponsible itinerants who wandered around spitting chaw juice on the boat upon which they were engaging in buggery and urging their female companions to rapidly finish performing fellatio on them because a variety of modes of transport were about to leave. Pulpy, as it shall henceforth be referred, engages in reverie about information downloading on his screen, “information” presumably being a euphemism for porn, and how he was able to say “download” with a straight face, thus saving his mentally challenged daughter from child abuse, even though the act of saying it made him a sinful, miserable homosexual, because he had never detonated himself inside of a woman.
In order to redeem himself he must turn to a nearby lamp, but unfortunately it’s off and thus it’s dark. It is sad, of course, but those who worship the Lord Gwad (who begat Samsung, who begat Son, who both begat a great 70s TV show) don’t judge Pulpy for his pulpiness, fondness of oral sex, homosexuality, or his utter lack of local illumination. They simply pity him, pity him four times, presumably because Pulpy will get eye strain. They don’t judge, but think Pulpy is twisted like a garden hose, or like thumbelinas, ropes, gas nozzles, bus lines, and bank accounts of crack hoes who all have degrees as a radiology assistant.
And just then a chorus of drunken homeless tenors sang out, “Look at the company you of in. You can prostate yourself, but you still must, for foregiveness suck very dick that comes up into your face.” Whereupon one must assume they all dropped trou.
Pulpy is then instructed to change his mind, because his children won’t be stupid — this makes Pulpy happy — and because of this, the myth of human growth and the predegogginnaniessienniueccieessencecalifragilisticexpialidocious of sustainable growth.
Sparky completes his essay by indicating that there are a lot of taverns and pubs, and caps it off with a rhebus that appears to read, “A penniless young Angela Lansbury’s bowling ball wearing a knotted do rag used its photogaphic box to take a candid, poorly framed daguerreotype of a young couple.”
You see? Taken in manageable chunks, this makes a lot … more … uh …
cucumbers.
Gawd, freakishly-smiling-puppy….and I thought my head hurt after reading the original!
*wanders off in search of Excedrin migraine bottle*
This to me smacks more of “Revelations”, where the five headed beast says things in chorus, and biblical stuff comes out of its mouth. (Like the sword that Death uses to burn up the oceans, and the scale that the wheat is measured with.)
Biblical coreys here and there.
Wait…5 headed beast? I didn’t know that was actually in a religious text…I heard it in a song.
And don’t forget the best part where Gawd downloaded that angel and the trumpets and then the zombies came back to life and went down to Fire Lake (go Bob Seger!) for a picnic.
If you’re not feeling very religious, look up a group called “Aphrodites Child”. One of their most famous songs involved the opening of the seven seals (And not pinniped vivisection.)
Supposedly, all of them either popped themselves (The band, not the seals.) or are worse off than our featured speaker today because Gwad apparently doesn’t like acid rock. At all.
He even got them through their tinfoil helmets.
[corey]That may be internet myth – three of the four band members are still with us and still recording, and two of them (Vangelis and Roussos) had very successful solo careers post-Aphrodite’s Child.[/corey]
The same Vangelis that did Bladerunner and Chariots of Fire? I’m totally going to look this up.
If it’s that Vangelis, they also did Risky Business.
Kudos galore for “piniped vivisection” above–talk about a limited-run alt.indy band name . . .
Hence my use of the word, “supposedly”.
*grovels*
*gravels*
er…
*grave bowels*
I mean…
*gropes*
Sigh, I really need a spell checker, kneeling in these rocks is murder on the knees. And who’s touching my butt?
Sorry, I needed someplace to put my tea.
kelli, are you suggesting that christina has a butt like a tea table?
I’m just saying I needed a place for my tea cup and christina’s backside was convienent.
This talk of butts reminds me.
This one time, on a band trip, this weekend, I got mooned for the very first time.
Something’s wrong with the Class of ’14 (this year’s freshmen), I swear.
Oh, yeah. Bill Burroughs is still alive.
I am totally unable to comment on the ad today. I lost my decoder ring.
However, look at all the quilt squares showing up this morning! Welcome, first time commenters! Hope you stay around, especially over the often slow weekend.
Girls are you constantly getting poked at by hordes of pesky cocks?
All new Deep Wood Dick OFF!! (With DDT)
Our repellent provides long-lasting protection against wandering peckers, especially in heavily beered areas. It repels dicks that may carry Lie disease, mojitos, button flies, zipper flies, buggers, free loaders, giants, and no-see-ums. Without the constant bother of dicks, all your excursions become more enjoyable.
Does the improved formula protect against bad pick-up lines?
No, that would be our other product, Jack OFF.
MWAHAHAAHA. Yes, they can be pesky sometimes.
Then you’re doing it wrong. 8)
Since I an not anatomically attached to said pesky penis horde, I would have to contend that said owner would be the one doing it wrong.
So that’s “owner” as in singular? I would imagine a male with a penis horde would have some coordination issues.
man with pesky penis horde = feak
Yes. All of the above. Indubitably.
p.s. Pesky Penis Horde = band name, perchance?
Sounds more like a scifi pron
And I had been doing so well with the not-drinking-while-reading thing…. I guess being AWOL for a few days(/weeks? I don’t even know…) made me forget stuff like that.
Wait, was Hammy’s product to get rid of hordes of pesky penises (penii?)? Because I thought it was to get rid of roosters named Dick. He even said it gets rid of peckers. Hammy, please cancel my order. I LIKE the pesky penis horde.
We had a name for girls like that in High School…*
*Hides in tank proof bunker*
I need mine to protect me from thumbelinas and gas nozzles. However, I don’t mind being bothered by garden hoses.
Thumbelinas couldn’t be much of a bother. You could just stomp on them.
But then I’d have to worry about having to scrape them off the bottom of my shoe. Not a pretty picture Silva. Not a pretty picture at all.
I have one thing to say to that, Silva: ouch.
Wait, is “thumbelina” some code for a pecil costume*?
_________________
*what, it’s close to Saturday . . .
Thumbelina Condoms are the latest college craze.
Not.A.Thumbelina.
People are probably now wondering what the incessant insane laughter emanating from my office is about.
Should not read this on my sortoflunch break.
Welcome to the world of my coirkers, WendyBear. Your coirkers will eventually get used to it. Mine did.
I can generally stifle the incessancy, but on the occasion that a snortle comes out, I can usually pass it off as choking on something :-p
That DDT stuff gives me hives. Do you have any hypoallergenic CockBlock?
That would be our organic product, Green Dick OFF (With PMS)
HamCan, does your product work for men as well as women? Because I’m kinda pretty and attract the occasional penile horde when I go out.
Would you really want your Dick OFF?
I think we’re going to have to lift the ban on saying penis today. After reading the ad, and the comments so far, all I can think about is the opening scene from Resevoir Dogs: “Dick, dick, dick, dick, dick.”
Can’t believe I actually quoted that…anyways…
Does that mean it only works in the woods, like in Deliverance,* rather than at bars,** or at the beach, etc.?
*Never seen it, and don’t plan on it.
**Or is it bears?
Well, bears certainly have dicks to keep off, but you’d need to market the Bear Dick Keep Off to men.
Not necessarily. I have an interest in avoiding encounters with bear dicks.
Bear? Or bare?
Oh, wait! Here’s something that makes total sense. “There’s lots of bars.” Amen, brothers and sisters!
All things considered, given the context — what can be made of it at least — I’m wondering if he didn’t mean to type “there are lots of bears.” I’ll leave it as an exercise for the reader to decide if that’s referring to the ursine variety or the heavily bearded variety.
Hell…why stop at the sensical “bears”? I think he meant “there are lots of fluglebinding whoozeewassits”…but he couldn’t spell it so he just said “bars”.
That happens to me more than you might think.
Internerant – n., portmanteau of “internet” and “rant”. Sparkies are prone to this behavior, see YSaC Vol.827 for example.
Dick off now?
Maybe he should think about reattaching it.
The meatball says ‘NO’!
Heck, I’ve been dicking off all morning, thanks to you guys. I just can’t balance 100+ comments and work!
Funny, was planning to make meatballs tonight (which is really Taco’s fault for posting his recipe the other day).
Sparky,
Please don’t download anywhere near me.
Thank you,
All of humanity.
Please, O please, Spark’ that includes biologically as well as digitally . . .
Predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence
By: Scary Dickons
But pity pity pity But pity ay
But pity pity pity But pity ay
Predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence!
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite obnoxious
If you say it loud enough
You’ll always sound Bipolar
Predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence!
But pity pity pity But pity ay
But pity pity pity But pity ay
Because I was a crazy freak
When I was just a lad
My father was a tweaker
And told me I was bad
But then one day I learned a word
That saved me aching ass
The biggest word I ever heard
And this is how it goes:
Oh, Predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence!
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite obnoxious
If you say it loud enough
You’ll always sound Bipolar
Predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence!
But pity pity pity But pity ay
But pity pity pity But pity ay
So when the crack has you wagging your tongue
There’s a need for total disarray
Just summon up this word
And then you’ve got a lot crap to say
But better use it carefully
Or it may change your life
One night I said it to my girl
And now the girl’s my husband!
It’s Predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence!
Predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence
Predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence
Predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence!
predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence–
someone is predegogging on me again. Smiting ensues!
I’m imagining the whole rant as read by the woman in the picture who is leaning in front of the painting. I also imagine her smashingly drunk while reciting all of it.
So, it’s not just me? That’s a relief.
Is that like standing on a chair and reciting Crash’s soliloquy from Bull Durham?
(I’ve seen this done, sometimes with skill)
It read more like a tortured soul in a coffee shop on open mic night to me. I added the fast bongo drum beats on my desk the second reading, and it almost made sense that way.
EDIT: damn, should have scrolled down more…this was already brought up.
This was produced by the monkey who sat between the monkey who wrote Twelfth Night and the monkey who wrote Romeo and Juliet. This is a mish-mash of confused identity, love that can’t be returned, love that shouldn’t be returned, and gender confusion. The monkey trainers were really hopeful for this piece of work, because the monkey had previously produced Henry V, but when they read this they just fell over twitching. The only thing that saved this monkey’s life is that he later produced some of Shakespeare’s more homoerotic sonnets.
Perhaps in the downtime the Monkey had been exposed to some crazy far-rightwing blogs accidentally…Shakespeare + Homophobes + General Crazy People = This?
I read this again slowly; I think there is a Sarah Palin joke in there somewhere, and it cries out to be read by William Shatner, with bongo drums.
“Prede… Goggin nani essi… en-niueccie… Essence!” (bububudum.)
[snaps fingers] That’s gone, man.
Wow… you’re right!! (well, I’m not sure about the Palin joke, couldn’t find it yet (yet!!)), but if you go back and mentally channel yourself some James T (after he’s had a bottle of the aforementioned Puerto Rican rum), it starts to flow!!!
I said nothing about making any more sense, but it certainly is more entertaining in my mind…
Most things sound vastly more entertaining if you imagine them being said by Shatner. Or Sean Connery.
OK, well, try putting “Democrats” in for homossexuals, “shoot” or “guns” for any obscene words, “maverick” for “download,” and “refudiation” for “predigogginana……what he said.” Maybe Russian vodka for Puerto Rican rum. “There’s lots of bars,” means the griz’ly bars up in the frozen land. I think this is actually a code that works.
I can see Russian vodka soaked jack-off rags from my house!
There you go again, Obamannana*!
*Go ahead, say it out loud, it’s fun!
I don’t create reality, dude; I only try to interpret it.
(Oh, wait–I’m a goddess, I guess I do create reality: sorry for the snafu here.)
Yeah, they’re from when Putin “pops his head up”.
Dunno, could be read by Bob & Doug Mackenzie, too.
Wait, bongos? What?
Bongos — often an accompaniment to beat poetry in coffeehouses.
Shatner and Palin: see here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vpbSwSlP4Yc
Dude, I know! I got the bongos, and I’m ready to jam, man.
No dudes, just cats. And we’re all cool, and the poetry is hot.
***H-h-h-o-t-t.***
This really isn’t the worst thing Neil Peart ever wrote.
Hey now… Them’s fightin’ words….
No, “let’s fight” – those are fighting words.
I hated Rush—with the exception of Roll the Bones.
You have listened to “2112” and “Hemispheres”? Plenty of good stuff there. Don’t want to push anything on you. The first three albums? Hit and miss. “Rivendell” is a pretty good tune. Bombdude, over to you…
***Wants to push “the workingman” on Mudsy so the workingman trips and Mudsy and I can run away from the zombies
Oh, wait. Zombies want brains. Nevermind. They’ll just hurdle “the workingman.”
Oh, and I just now thought of this. One of the first songs Rush ever released was a little ditty called “Working Man”.
Crap, Bombdude. What now?
All you ever need to see to know why Geddy Lee is Gwad.
Maybe it an encoded message to his Space Alien friends telling them all of the secrets of the universe. Or it could just be to the zomb…
I think this “workingman” named Maria is an F2M transsexual, who although he gender-identifies as male is also sexually attracted to men. He now can’t deal with his own homosexuality. He hates himself so much that he tries to distance himself from who he is by talking to himself in the second person.
When he was a woman, he felt he had to such dick and get the job done, and now that he’s prostated himself, he feels he must atone by sucking every dick that comes into his face. Witness his pathos: he turns to the light but can’t find it and sees only darkness. He begs Gwad for pity, but he feels like he’s going to hell and it won’t even be a waste, because that’s what he deserves.
I’m going to go cry for this poor soul, now. If only he could accept himself.
If he’s F2M, he wouldn’t really be a “working” man, now would he?
Would not have a prostate, either–unless the urologists have a new procedure for prostatoplasty (and Skene’s are likely poor candidates for such a procedure).
I’m pretty sure this happened shortly after he posted:
“OK, Mr. Workingman, it’s time to leave the computer and go back to your nice padded room now…”
Nice Dr. Lunnytoons, “Yes Mr. Workingman it’s time for your medication. I thought we decided you weren’t ready to use the computer yet.”
Ok, so now all I can picture is the Python sketch where the fellow goes to the psychiatrist, but all the “doctors” are inmates from the looney bin, wanting to talk about imaginary sex situations . . .
Tell me about your first time. Do you like doctors?
The Lord Gwad is my professional wrestling name.
It’s also the name of Irregular Fractal’s Stryper cover band.
Lord G-Wad is my rapper name.
Mine is Iced Tea Download.
Lord Big Wad is my pron name.
Mine’s Kidz B. Slutz.
Mine was Lady Predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence, but it wouldn’t fit on the CD covers.
“Who?, Lord Kinboat?”
X-Files: “Jose Chungs’ From Outer Space”
Downloaded.
Uploaded.
Fully loaded.
Loaded for bear.
I feel so sinful, now.
When you wrote that, were you afraid we would know your face in ecstasy?
Can I get a definition for predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence? Otherwise, I’m left to guess:
predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence
pre – prior
de – off or removed from
gogg – a choking sound
in – imbued with
nani – miniature
es – is
sien – sifted or refined
niu – new
eccie – ichor or fluid
essence – suffix meaning the general aura of a thing
My definition:
predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence – noun or adj- pertaining to the small amount of pure fluid one finds directly at the source which does not cause you to gag, but has the general essence of the greater amount of fluid which follows.
Essentially: Pre-cum
Thus, the phrase “the predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence of sustainable growth” means “Suck my dick until you can taste it and that’s when I’m ready to fuck.”
Nicely reasoned! And there really never was a line today, anyway, although I think you may have jumped a few feet past the rest of us.
*looks for the YSaC long jump metal
Or maybe medal. Ooops. Why couldn’t I have noticed that within the edit window?
Because that is the essential essence of the Edit Window. That it is transient, mocking in its mayfly-like existence, as permanent as yesterday’s sunshine.
That, and that dang Murphy is good with shiney objec
Or maybe you meant metal after all?
\m/ o_o \m/
Or “mental” perhaps?
Or even “demental”?
Wow, new ad–ipad for 2000 yuan!
It was the best of eraz, it was the worst of eonz, it was the age of knowledge KNOW!, it was the age of download, it was the epoch of ANY ONE!, it was the epoch of homo-sexuality, it was the season of Light, for truth and guidance, it was the season of Darkness (suprise!), it was the garden hose ‘r a rope, it was the winter of boat’z, bus’z and trainz, we had very dick before us, we spit out tobacco before us, we were all going direct to ecstacy, we were all going direct the other way – in short, kid’s be slutz, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of predegogginnaniessienniueccieessence only.
by Charles Dickoff
Tale of Two Downloads?
Tale of Two “Pities”
Finally someone’s made sense out of it all!
Thank you oh Goddess of the Shiny Knees!
*applause for the goddess*
Love it!
“Twisted like a bank account of a crack whore.”
I think I have found a clue. Also, the S. Palin joke.
Two requests for clarification here:
1.) How can homosexuality be a “lonely” sin? Isn’t the whole buggery thing the sinful part? I always thought buggery required you not to be alone?
2.) Bombdude? Is this true, about the definition of “feak”? That it means one who has never rigged an explosive device such that a cat owned by a woman was caught in the blast? Why the hell would you even have a definition for something like that? And once you do graduate from feakhood, what do they call you?
^^That^^ was actually me – forgot to change the sign in (again). I would so suck as a secret agent.
And as a sock puppet master.
Do you have a small dog?
Wait, let me get you my social security number…
Are you still banking at Wells-Failgo? What was that number, again?
If the males of homosexuality are miserable, what are the females of homosexuality?
Happy. Because they are comfortable, you know, in their sensible shoes.
(Mariaz Purposeful Nips N Things)
Does anyone else think this sounds like a very effed up boutique run by a little old lady named Maria who sells crocheted fetish wear embroidered with religious sayings?
I still say it’s a reference to his plastic surgery.
I think I’ve seen thinks like that on Regretsy…
When it’s cold I get purposeful nips.
Holy Hannah! My ad is perfect…
“In the dark? Get enlightened
Ask one FREE question
CaliforniaPsychics.com”
the incomprehensibleness (is that a word?) of all that notwithstanding, I think the thing that bothers me the most about this isn’t the pluralization of word’z with z, but the fact that they had to put apostrophe’z in front of every z…. did anyone submit this to the apostrophe abuse page yet?
overall, it sounds like one of those random spam emails made up of random words jumbled together that *almost* look like they could make sense if they had been translated word by word from another language without thought to context and grammar.
I just watched The Art of Lying. I had never heard of it before, but I suggest it to anyone who likes weird comedies. It’s hilarious.
Tad formulaic, though; and h’wood had to tie it up with a neat happy ending. Still funny, just that I felt (and as with all too much out of h’wood of late) that I only got 70¢ out of my dollar (which was $1.36 with taxes fees ans excises).
They do get bounus points for introducing belief into it; they just could have gone deeper. Would like to give this to Nimród Antal, and let him work some of his Hungarian magic upon the tale.
I’ve got to agree with you Cap’n. It had quite a lot of potential that was squandered on H’wood hype and happiness.
*Click*
Sigh.
*Click*
Sigh.
*Click*
Come on already.
*Click*
Ahh, I’m going to bed.
NMN. you DO realize that the new day’s ad is posted around 9 am EST, right? 🙂
I click refresh to see if anybody says anything. No one was commenting, so I went to bed.
Well, you need to hunt some of us down on f/b–Andie and I were up late last night chatting.
Random spam-filler text generator is random. XD
Hooray for Smiling Dog! Punchity Punch Punch!
G’Night, Puerto Rico!