Click for Huge
(Thu 30th Mar 2006, 20:57, More)

Good day.

Edit: The nose is a squid. *FACT*
Edit 2: WOO, second frontpage!
(Sun 22nd Jun 2003, 23:52, More)

His disguise was flawless...

Sweet mercy, a frontpage!
Woo!
(Mon 26th May 2003, 0:42, More)

» I'm going to Hell...

United 93, AKA the September 11th film.
The passengers have overpowered the hijackers, but it's too late. The plane is heading into a nose dive from five thousand feet.

"This is it!" they scream.

Expectant mothers, crying husbands and wives desperately punching numbers for one last phone call, grown men wimpering and hugging, the torrent of children's screams as the plane hurtles towards the ground.

"OH GOD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"

And just like that, it ends with a mighty crunch, a fireball, and the stench of burning flesh.

...

Now who let's out a Counterstrike-esque "Terrorists win!" at this point, in a packed theater of teary-eyed New Yorkers?

Go on, guess.
(Wed 17th Dec 2008, 22:54, More)

» Customers from Hell

I used to work in the gift shop at an amusement park - toys and trinkets mostly -
and dealt with a customer base of approximately 80% moron. Children, despite being young and unknowing, were no exception to this trend.

A very obnoxious girl, maybe ten or eleven, comes in with her two younger brothers and starts raving about all the shiny objects in the shop (as little girls do). She comes across a mood ring, clearly having never seen one before, reads the instructions, holds it in her palm for all of two seconds, and SLAMS it down on my counter.

"IT'S BROKEN!!"

"You have to hold it longer!" exclaims her six-year-old brother.

"Shutup! Shutup! You're shit!" she replies, "I held it and it's still blue! It doesn't tell anything about my personality."

I take a deep breath.

"It works just fine. Blue means you're retarded."
(Thu 4th Sep 2008, 21:54, More)

» Broken Promises

I made a hell of a promise once. I promised a young dame I'd never die.
You might be thinkin' what kind a foolhardy sonovabitch says something like that. I'll tell you what kind - the kind who finds himself in love with a sweet little pixie with legs that reach all the way to the ground. A street-hardened farmboy-turned-cop with stars in his eyes who longs to know the touch of a real woman.

Jane was her name, and what she needed was a man. She'd loved and lost more times than an adult film star with a fear of success. I leaned forward across the table in the smoke filled bar, head buzzing from one too many Shirley Temples.

"I may not be a young man or a rich man, but I can promise I'll be there for you, Jane. When the going gets tough I'm the kinda guy who sees it though."

She started to sob like an inverted hyena. If tears were words, her eyes were a German dictionary, "You're a good man, but--"

"Jane, baby, tell me what's wrong."

"I can't lose you. I've lost so much."

"I've lost something too, baby. My mind. Because of you I can't think straight anymore. I try to work, but you keep barging into my thoughts like a sex-crazed Kool Aid man and I'm the only glass in town."

She welled up, "Oh Frank--"

"I'll be with you forever, sweetheart. I promise you I'll never die."

She looked at me with eyes like headlights, and headlights like two bald men fighting over a chicken wing, "Surely, you can't promise that."

"I can, toots, and don't call me Shirley."

Regrettably, it was a promise I couldn't keep.


We'll miss you, Les.
(Thu 2nd Dec 2010, 23:51, More)

» Social Networking Gaffes

In the early days of MySpace, when I hadn't yet realized how juvenile and useless everyone on it was,
I was invited to an all-around party thing in downtown Chicago by a group of classmates - eight of us total. The plan was to paint the town red in a manner befitting timid first-year art students, which is to say that we would go to the beach and the zoo, and maybe have a good deep dish pizza.

Having only a cursory knowledge of one another, it didn't become apparent until later in the evening that one among us was not our kind. In fact, a young man named Rod - clearly five years our superior - had infiltrated our MySpace group, masquerading as a fellow student. He was alright at first, even paid for dinner, but after having a few drinks down his neck he started to get a bit...wild. For our tastes. For his opening act on the beach, he harvested a healthy crop of wild shellfish found clinging to a rock, and promptly ate them raw.

DEAR GOD. This was lake Michigan, and we were right by the city runoff pipe.

"Yea-heah! I fuckin' LOVE MYSPACE!" he exclaimed, mouth dribbling with black slime, "I fuckin' love you guys!"

Stuffing the remains down his trousers, he followed us to the zoo, unaware that we were trying to escape his madness. It might also have been the fact that with a belly full of rum and sewage-laced mollusks, he was now a walking time bomb. A walking time bomb with fifty shells in his pants that jingled as he walked, as if he'd just shat out a small treasury.

Our efforts to avoid him were in vain, as he followed us around the zoo, belching and making up facts about the animals.

"Eighteen thousand children are killed each year by macaques. It's India's leading cause of infant mortality."

This man was a nut. Plain and simple. He wasn't being funny or ironic, he was just insane. We reached the giraffe enclosure and something horrible happened. As he shouted and slapped the poor animals' noses, the foul chemistry within his gut reached critical mass. No, he didn't vomit. Rather, somehow the chemical constituents of rotting seafood and alcohol had reacted in such a way as to produce a perfect giraffe aphrodisiac. A giraphrodisiac.

The giraffes became aroused, and our new friend, cackling louder than the hyenas, reached through the bars to perform a vile deed on the nearest one.

Yes, it was the sea shell nut wanking giraffes.
(Tue 16th Sep 2008, 17:15, More)

» Why I was late

The truth.
I was late this morning, and used the excuse of "my shower broke."

In reality, I got lost in deep thought while sitting on the toilet. I was thinking about UFOs.
(Thu 28th Jun 2007, 18:14, More)