I was bored so I did this. I used a transcript of mr. Gibson’s rant: I though he had said “pig in heat” but I guess I heard wrong.
Many of my video game characters have vulgar or just plain WEIRD names. I think back to earlier games I played where I ran “Lark’s Vomit” through a dangerous dungeon mission. Or the time when “Warpo Facto” (who had a brother named “Ipso Facto) caused the death of all my party members because I attacked something that I shouldn’t have.
I have been playing through Dragon Age while working out with the Wii-Fit lately and in the game you can name your dog. I named mine “Your Penis” specifically because of the on-screen messages I would be able to read: “Your penis growls menacingly” was great. There have been many others that are just as funny, but my favorite so far is the one in the picture here.
I look forward to the day I finally grow up!
Melanie and I have been writing down things we have overheard lately. Things that sound interesting. Things that sound particularly interesting when heard outside of the initial conversation or context. Usually just one or two sentences at a time. We weren’t sure how to use the quotes at first: I was thinking initially that i would doodle something, but we decided to use public domain photos instead.
This is the first attempt! Hope you like it.
Glenda was thinking about having her breasts enlarged as a present to her husband (and to herself) for their 20th anniversary. She called around and asked after various plastic surgeons in the area, finally deciding on a doctor who came highly recommended. She was nervous as she waited for him, but soon discovered she needn’t have been: he couldn’t have been nicer.
The doctor, one Brevin Alger, was very experienced and professional. He explained that he typically warned his patients against rushing into the surgery. He told Glenda that he recommended watching a brief documentary on the procedure that would explain it in great detail. Furthermore, he advised all of his breast-surgery candidates to take home some temporary fit-over, false-breasts to try out so her exact, preferred size could be determined.
The falsies, Glenda was pleased to discover, looked very natural and fit her like a second skin. She thanked the doctor and set up a follow-up appointment for two-weeks hence. She walked to her car with a box full of fake breasts of varying sizes and drove home.
Glenda was only two blocks from home when the truck t-boned her car. She suffered only minor injuries and was released from the hospital a few hours later. Her husband, Antoine, drove her to the mechanic where her insurance company had her car towed to.
The Passat was a total loss. She pulled what she could from the car and realized with growing dread that the box full of the interim-bosoms was nowhere in sight. She searched fruitlessly for several more minutes and even asked the man tending the garage if he had seen any trace of the box. He hadn’t. She left.
When she returned home, she called Dr. Alger’s office and explained what had happened. The office manager wasn’t without sympathy, but she explained to Glenda that the loaner-boobs would have to be paid for, and suggested that she call her insurance company and see if her coverage might help out.
Glenda took the advice and spoke to her agent, who then told her she would have to do some checking and then call her back. The phone rang about an hour later. Glenda anxiously inquired about the coverage, to which her agent replied:
“I am sorry, but your policy clearly states that there is no remittance for Short-Term Mammary-Loss.”
Hey, readers! We want to make sure that all four of you know we are currently in sunny San Diego for Comic Con 2010! We have a veritable shitload of pictures and stories to share, but we are entirely too fucking tired to do it all right now. We promise updates and pics when we get back to the nice cool forest we call home.
Here is a little sample for you! It’s Canadian Mister T as rendered by Joel Watson of Hijinks Ensue:
…that he has been using to much Man Tan.
The ad is real. The text is mine. Well, the snarky part of it is, I mean.
Before my grandmother passed away, she had to enter hospice. One night I think i had heard the word too many times and it lost all meaning. Since then, whenever someone says “hospice” I think of the golden fluid trickling from the loins of one Dan Blocker, AKA Eric “Hoss” Cartwright on Bonanza. This is the mental image I can’t unthink.
