Archive for the ‘Random Nonsense’ Category

Thinayr college for the Legally Bored: ’08 Summer Sections

Tuesday, February 12th, 2008

It is with great pride that announces the addition of new courses to its growing roster of quality educational offerings. Getting your Unofficial Pre-Honorary Mastersish Display Uniploma in Applied Conceptual Imagineering has never been easier/more legalish. Sign up now for the summer section and beat the rush. Remember, only so many “students” can fit into a self-storage unit before the owner gets all uppity…

Available courses include:
CC601: Creative Cooking 3
Instructor: Schmeegora Huntt
Cr. π
Fee: $100/15 Foodstamps

Course description:
Learn from Master Chief (fan) Schmeegora Huntt as she takes you down, down her rabbit hole of flavor! Internationally based Schmeegora is the author of such ground breaking cook-pamphlets as “Kreative Kakes” and “The goverment LIED about EGGS: WHAT THEY WONT TELL YOU AND OTHER RECIPIES!!!!!!” In this course students will study and prepare: double-corned duck links, tuna-blasted herb muffins, rice-and-eggs Jell-O™ shooters, shrimp-Salsa N’ cookie bread, and barbeque Cajun colon-spears. There will be several “field trips” to the grocery store, the dumpster behind it, and Rural Rd. 28. No VEGANS.

CS1100: Computer Aided Modeling: Doomsday Machines
Instructor: Professor Setharix Darkseed
Cr. Negotiated at final, along with other demands.

Dust off your goggles and your evil cackle, at last…it is time! Learn from work-released ex-supervillain Prof. Darkseed as he imparts years of experience holding the world’s governments in the grip of terror for the purpose of wish-fulfilling exploitative negotiations which still result in global destruction. Utilizing state of the art computer applications such as AutoDeath HaYa and Google ShakeDown, students will conceptualize, design and build machines of unspeakable destruction. Nuclear, biological and brown-note based machines are all enthusiastically encouraged, the only limit is your imagination and lack of mercy. The class final will consist of a multi-party, poker-game style standoff in which each student will rely on their machine’s ability to incite terror in aggressively negotiating their demands. The winner of the in-class stand off will have the honor of detonating their device at this fall’s homecoming football game halftime celebration to show support for our Fightin’ Idealists. GO Idealists!



The Obituary of Thomrad Turlington

Tuesday, July 10th, 2007

Thomrad Stershal Turlington of Horttleberry, Massachusetts, died Sunday at the newly opened Kellogg™ Toffy-Blasted Razzleberry-Poptart™ Hospital in central Horttleberry. According to his family, he was 65 years older than he was at the time of his birth at the time of his death. He was hospitalized on Friday after suffering a massive 9.2-magnitude brainquake which was felt by shamen as far away as Calcutta.

Thomrad was born of parents Rognord and Falicity “Ol’ Three-Knocks” Turllington on April 21, 1942, in his beloved hometown of Reizgneitch Blitzenfuhrertink, Germany, during “The Great Rudeness of Around 1942.” His family was forced to flee to America in 1945 after the fall of the Nazi party, finally settling in Horttleberry. He spent his life feral, sustained on a diet of treebark and hallucinogenic mushrooms. He was not seen by anyone for a thirty year period between 1977 and Sunday, when he was found quaked-out in a ditch near Ol’ Hayberglick Ranch.

Thomrad is survived by his wife Gloriola, and their children Hanstor (32), Marggathy (28), Fielepo XVII (17), and the conjoined twins Regardo (17) and Lulu (17 ½).
Thomrad’s service will be held tomorrow at 3:25 am, where, upon his wishes, his corpse will be dropped from a hot-air balloon.

The End of “The Glorious Age of TP”

Friday, July 6th, 2007

The USS Hubbert, a small transport ship bound for the Trillby Islands, encountered a large storm and ran aground. Twenty people were onboard. The ship’s passengers found themselves hopelessly stranded on a quintessential, uncharted-dessert island.

Due to a snafu at FEMA, the crew was incorrectly determined to be composed entirely of ethnic minorities, so no rescue effort was ever made. Luckily, the passengers of the Hubbert found that the island was quite hospitable. It had ample shelter, sparkling fresh-water streams and plenty to eat. In spite of this, there was a glaring problem:

On the entire island, there was nothing suitable for the purpose of wiping one’s behind.

All of the island’s plant life was covered with needle-like, venomous-thistles or vicious serrations, nothing one would want to touch, let alone rub on unmentionable sensitive areas. The survivors became panicked.

Serendipitously, the ship’s passengers included two toilet-paper industrialists from Flatbraggen, Texas: Leo Durci and Peter Tatum Leislloid. They alone knew that in the ship’s hold resided fifty enormous crates, hundreds of thousands of rolls, of their product: MiracleWipe Toilet Tissue. Under the cover of night, they ventured out to the wrecked ship, and discovered to their delight and amazement that their precious cargo was intact. Once their property was secured, they announced to their comrades the following:

“Our good friends, we have terrific news! We have at our disposal enough toilet paper to last ten lifetimes, which we will happily share with you all! Since we own it, we will take up the responsibility of preparing it and distributing it to you. It is on the ship, and damp from the crash, but we will do all of the work of transporting it, drying it and delivering it to your dwellings, so long as you share with us the food and water you gather, so we can perform our important task without distraction.”

This met with uproarious enthusiasm. There was plenty of food and resources to share with their TP delivering saviors in return for a share of the precious tissue.

And so it went.

After a time, as always happens, the people took their TP as granted. It was always there, ready for their use. Nobody worried about where it was coming from or how much there was, so long as it was waiting for them beside their latrine when they needed it. Durci & Leislloid’s TP Service made delivers daily, collected their payment, and everyone was happy.

Without further set back, the island’s new inhabitants created a small civilization with a population steadily growing into the hundreds. The tiny civilization advanced, Labor was divided, and specialists worked to construct homes, market places and monuments worthy of praise. Farmers harvested edible berries, fisherman fished, and people busied themselves making and selling all kinds of goods. The most profitable business of all turned out to be that of Durci and Leuslloid. Their commodity, used by everyone on a daily basis, made them extravagantly wealthy. They hired employees to do all the work they had once dutifully done for the betterment of their fellow islanders. Their employees too, became very well to do, all of them holding a place of prestige in the community.

As time progressed, new leaders were elected, and Durci & Leislloid fathered heirs to take over their Toilet Paper Empire. These heirs, raised in the lap of luxury, felt disdain for their fellow islanders, and recognized their own power and importance to the society. They often used their tremendous influence to sway political processes, eventually lobbying and bribing everyone involved in the governing of the island. All the while, the supply of TP was as strong as ever. Nobody complained as long as they could prosper economically…. and wipe their rears.

The fisherman of the island were especially apt at catching a certain kind of bright-red fish, which they called the Cherry-Apple Redfish. This fish was incredibly spicy, and upset the stomach accordingly. The TP industry recognized the possibility for a partnership between the Cherry-Apple Redfishermen and themselves, and worked tirelessly to convince the population to switch to a diet comprised exclusively of Cherry-Apple Redfish. The taste of the fish was incredibly addictive and the meat had amazing benefits for one’s vitality. People instantly loved the new food, and quickly learned to deal with the indigestion, so long as they had ample TP around… Eventually, ALL of the island’s diet consisted of Cherry-Apple Redfish. TP profits exploded. Everyone was overwhelmingly happy.

Then, one day, an inquisitive young man asked publicly:

“Where has all this toilet paper been coming from? How much is there? Won’t we run out of it eventually?”

The TP Industrialists were quick to respond:

“Good people, we have an enormous supply, easily enough to last us for the next 50 years. There is no need to worry.”

The busy people of the island were satisfied with this answer. Of course they’d eventually run out, but not for a long, long time. When the time came, they knew, they’d find an alternative, but there was no sense worrying about that now.

The years past and the population grew and grew, fed on a steady diet of Cherry-Apple Redfish, which gave them the super-human energy to grow and prosper as never before. Each new mouth to feed meant another behind to wipe. TP consumption grew staggeringly, but the supply continued to meet demand. A small portion of the population grew weary of the situation. Nobody knew how much TP there was, even the TP industry didn’t know for sure.
TP executives silenced such cautionary voices of dissent, and made politics a very profitable endeavor for politicians that upheld the position of the TP industry. Some citizens attempted to devise viable alternatives to TP, and encourage the population to switch to diets with less spicy food to lessen their rampant TP consumption. These activities threatened to cut into the TP industry’s soaring profits, and were crushed. People were encouraged not to worry, and to continue to consume as much Cherry-Apple Redfish as they desired in the meantime.

People started to notice… TP was getting more and more expensive. TP executives blamed the aquatic creatures which surrounded the ship that were making retrieval difficult. Outraged, the people sent their children to fight the vilified sea life, many young people drowned attempting to keep fish from swimming.

Supply continued to lag, population continued to grow, and TP prices became astronomically unreasonable. Fingers were pointed every which way. People panicked. Only the wealthiest could afford the few rolls that were making it to market. Top government officials and wealthy TP-Executives realized the jig was up, they horded what TP was left for themselves in their enormous private estates, then publicly announced:

“Sorry, there’s no more toilet paper.”

At this announcement, the population suddenly realized the horrible mess they were in, and instantly reverted to a state which could hardly be considered civilized. They had a huge, densely-packed population fed on nothing but Cherry-Apple Redfish, and they had absolutely no toilet paper alternatives.

Together in one colossal sigh, the population of the island muttered their immortal words, marking the end of the “Glorious Age of TP”:



Basic Principals of Comedic Suffix Theory

Wednesday, June 13th, 2007

Try the following: Add the word “monster” to the end of any other word.

You will noticed that the newly amended word instantly becomes funny. To understand why, we need to be introduced to a concept known as Comedic Suffix Theory.

Comedic Suffix Theory (CST) is easy to begin working with, but is a vast subject which can take a lifetime to adequately comprehend. A sound preliminary definition of CST would be, “the principal that certain words, once amended to other words suffixaly, result in combinations whose contextual hilariousness is amplified by a knowable quantity.” Certain suffixal words have been determined to be naturally potent, in CST, these powerful suffixes are known as “Affixable Hilarity Amplifiers” (AHA’s).

Numerous AHAs have been discovered in the english language such as Monster, Lord, Bot, Honey, Insertion, Toast, -sicle, -ectomy, and squeezin’s… to name just a few. These words have natural hilarity amplification capabilities. Try them out, keeping in mind that often the resultant hilarity depends on proper consideration of the concepts produced. For example, the word “peanut,” after being collided with “Lord,” becomes “Peanut Lord,” creating the concept of a “Lord of Peanuts.” Similarly, colliding “Taco” with “insertion” produces “Taco Insertion,” leading to the natural question: into what is the taco being inserted?

Let’s take a look at the outcome of adding the above suffixes to the common words “Hobo,” “Tackle,” and “Sexy.”

Hobo Monster, Hobo Lord, Hobo-bot, Hobo Honey, Hobo-insertion, Hobo-toast, Hobosicle, Hobo-ectomy, Hobo squeezins’.

Tackle Monster, Tackle Lord, Tackle-bot, Tackle Honey, Tackle Insetion, Tackle-toast, Tacklsicle, Tackle-ectomy, Tackle Squeezins’.

Sexy Monster, Sexy Lord, Sexybot, Sexy Honey, Sexy-insertion, Sexy-toast, Sexysicle, Sexy-ectomy, Sexy Squeezins’.

The combinations are endless! Try to think of a common word, then add a suffix for amplified hilarity!


thinayr college for the legaly bored

Wednesday, May 9th, 2007

It is with great pride that now offers an online, 2-year bachelors of sciencology degree to qualified applicants interested in the cutting edge research conducted by and it’s colleagues. Apply now for the summer sections, beginning June 12th.

Available courses include:
NTB100: Basic Principles of Nural-Tectonism
Instructor: Dr. Grundle Radtits Ph.D
Cr. 3 Fee: 1.618. BYOB (required).
This introductory course focuses on the essential elements of the cutting edge field of Nural-Tectonics, exploring everything from simple brain-tremors, to catastrophic soul-quakes, with attention to the methods of detecting, measuring, and inducing terminal mind-faults. Students will experience first hand what it’s like to be completely quaked out, and will spend many nights cursing in puddles of fluids indoors and out. Dr. Radtits is an expert in Neural Tectonics, and helped the governments of S. Korea and New Iran develop their famed NeuralTecto-Satelites for research and warfare applications, providing students with great possibilities for overseas unpaid internships. This course fulfills the requirements for the Substance-Induced Physics portion of the major.

PE350: SportMugging For Wellness
Instructor: Hobotkey Bindlestiffson
Cr. 1.5 Fee: $30 (Covers pinsol, shank, and jogging suit. Good shoes recommended)
As part of the physical ed. requirement, SportMugging For Wellness is a hands-on workshop teaching you how to live a healthy, active lifestyle by mugging people for sport. The class begins with an introduction to the shive sciences, including the subtleties and artfulness of a modern, detrimental shanking. Pinesol and Listerine are dispensed in dixy cups, helping students to find their center and loose inhibitions. Every student will work on a comprehensive log book documenting their successful, and unsuccessful efforts as they build boldness and take on more challenging victims, such as high-profile political targets and armed law enforcement personnel.

PF620: Advanced Particle Physics for non-Scientists
Instructor: Bobby-Lee Jimmy Jr.
Cr. 3 Fees: $125 (Covers sand and electricity costs. Outside sand is not permitted)
This course delves into the mysterious and sometimes deadly field of particle physics. Unlike other “Particle Physicists” who mistakenly believe nature to be comprised of atomic and subatomic “particles” we focus entirely on the only particles we can see and thus believe in: sand. We will shake sand, throw sand, kick sand and for the final, use electricity and magnets to turn sand into monsters capable of mass devastation. Goggles are recommended. Class not open to those interested in “evil” particle physics.


Thunder Dunkin’ !

Saturday, April 14th, 2007

The following is a paid advertisement for THUNDER DUNKERS™:

HEY YOU! Are you TIRED of the same-old BORING family restaurants? Are you TIRED of the same-old BORING food? Are you ready to EXPERIENCE the EVOLUTION of FUDGULATED DINNERTAINMENT?


THUNDER DUNKERS™ is the totally new, totally wild, totally FUN new (wild) restaurant for the whole family! At THUNDER DUNKERS™, all of our food is specially THUNDER-DUNKED™ right when you order it, then FUN-BLASTED™ with the toppin’s of your choice!

Choose from over 3 delicious meats including cow, ham, or sheep. Watch as our Master Dunkologists THUNDER DUNK™ your meat in rich, creamy fudge– right when you order it!

Select up to two toppin’s from our FUN-BLASTERS™ MENU, including hot corn, crackers, snapberries, Skittles™, or TinyPies™. The toppin’s are then loaded into a high-powered air cannon and FUN-BLASTED™ into your THUNDER-DUNKED™ meat while you watch from the safety of The THUNDER BUBBLE™.

Celebrating a birthday party, office birthday party or the birthday of a loved one’s family? Mention this ad and receive one of our delicious THUNDER-DUNKED™ birthday hams FUN-BLASTED™ with edible party hats, for a limited time only!


Located at 5211 S. Smuckley Street, 7 miles east of the Johndace Autos’ MoonSpire.


Birthday hams are available for a limited time only while supplies last. Not valid with any other offer or birthday. THUNDER DUNKERS™ does not assume responsibility for shrapnel-related FUN BLASTING™ fatalities. Cooked meat may be substituted for a nominal fee upon request. THUNDER DUNKERS™ is not affiliated with THE IMPENDING FUDGEINING™.

Welcome to the Fun4All-Inn! Taillingston, WY

Friday, February 23rd, 2007

Dear Guest,

Welcome to Taillingston, Wyoming! Your comfort is our number one priority. We strive to create a safe, clean, fun, astronaut-free travel experience for you and your family. We proudly offer a wide range of activities and amenities in our facility, including an indoor pool, jacuzzi, vending machines, and ice. Alf™ Towels are also available upon request for children under the age of 16 upon completion of the “Astronaut Oath”. Parents! Drop the kids off at the “Fun-ducation Center” while you retire to the billiards room for cocktails and billiards on one of our two billiard tables. The whole family is invited every night at 7:00pm, as our Astronaut Awareness Team presents a short skit, followed by a Q&A session. We also provide fine dining upon request, or room service for those staying in rooms equipped with a food-table.

Please remember: The Fun4All-Inn is an astronaut-free facility, and maintains a NO-TOLERANCE policy toward astronauts. We ask that you help us identify and apprehend any potential astronauts on our premises. If you believe you have seen an astronaut anywhere on our grounds, please report it at once to hotel staff by dialing 321* on any hotel phone. Our astronaut task-force will work swiftly to investigate all situations, taking proper measures in the event of an astronaut.

Be aware that you may unknowingly be traveling with an astronaut or astronauts. If you suspect that ANY in your travel party are potentially astronauts, we urge you to report them IMMEDIATELY. Failure to report astronauts will result in immediate ejection from our premises and possible legal action. If you are found to be knowingly associating with an astronaut on our grounds, you will be removed from the premises and may face imprisionment and/or fines of up to $10,000.

We hope you enjoy your astronaut-free visit! Remember: it is up to us to keep the Fun4All-Inn, and God’s America, ASTRONAUT FREE. Together, we can do it!

Funderfully yours,

The Fun4All-Inn, Taillingston, WY Team


TimeTravel Time with Time-Traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim! (episode I)

Wednesday, February 21st, 2007

Announcer: Time to guess what time it is my tiny time-traveling tots!!! It’s time for ‘TimeTravel Time with Time-Traveling Dr. TimeTravel-Tim!’

Children: !!!!!!YEAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!

Announcer: Time to ask Time-Traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim what time we’re time-traveling to this time!

Dr. T: “Well kids! This time we’re time-traveling to one of my all-time favorite times to time travel to! We’re time-traveling too a time where sometimes some time travelers think some types of time travel are too tough to time, but not THIS time!! This time it’s ‘TimeTravel Time with time-traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim!’ And Dr. TimeTravel Tim travels to times where timid time travelers sometimes miss-time travel times, but this time our time travel timing will be timed to time travel to the time we intend to time travel to!

Phuh! To tell time-traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim not to time travel to his all time favorite time to time travel to on ‘TimeTravel Time with time-traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim’ is a travesty!!! This time, time-traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim, who is time-traveling to all types of times all the time, each time time-traveling with his own time travel timings perfectly timed, will travel to his all time favorite time to time travel to!!!”

[Time-traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim enters his time-traveling Time Machine, thoroughly miss-times his time-travel timing, and time travels to the wrong time. This will be the last episode of TimeTravel Time with Time-Traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim.]



Sunday, February 18th, 2007

Guy & Thurgood’s Speedy Hobo Removal
February 15, 2007

Dear Valued Customer,

We performed a Delux Hobo Eradication at your residence on January 27, 2007. Since that time, it has come to our attention that one of the products used while servicing your residence, the newly-developed aerosol-hobocide XHOB-B, has been identified as potentially dangerous by the Attorney General following the class-action lawsuit of Flessy Vs. Murdkill Chemical Co.

In the wake of these events, we are required to contact all owners of residences we treated with XHOB-B in the last five months since the chemical’s introduction to disclose certain potential dangers related to the use of this substance.

XHOB-B is the active agent in the highly-effective hobo-control product “Huckleson&Company’s Jolly-Hobo Hotel.” This product consists of a plastic dome with entranceways leading to a central chamber, wherein a bottle of Pinesol and a plate of tangy buffalo-wings reside as bait. When the hobo enters this chamber, motion sensors trigger the release of XHOB-B, which violently liquifies the peripheral nervous systems inside the doomed hobo, rendering it immobile. Over the course of several days, nano-engineered viruses inside XHOB-B’s “Funocules” reassemble the conscious but debilitate hobo’s musculature into trillions of starving crawfish, which devour the remaining hobo-material internally, hence our “no-residual hobo-remains guarantee.”

Unfortunately, while economical and effective, this process may have unexpected side effects. While XHOB-B was engineered to work on hobos alone, it has been suggested that the substance may also be threatening to humans, potentially causing similar and/or identical effects to those observed in hobos. The National Hobo Control Union is following up on these claims. In the meantime, there are some precautions you may wish to take while on any of the estimated 35 million locations that have been treated with XHOB-B over the past 5 months, your residence included (our bad!).

It has been found that XHOB-B can remain onsite suspended in the air with a dissipation a rate of 3-nanograms/L/yr @STP. Since most sites treated with XHOB-B were treated with .5-10 kg of the substance, it may take several hundreds of thousands of years for sites to become decontaminated through natural dissipation. If you feel you cannot wait this long, and must visit a potentially contaminated site, your own residence included (our bad!), it is suggested that you wear a breathing apparatus and take precautions to prevent physical contact with any gases present in the air. The effects of this substance on children and elderly persons is unknown, but it is the position of the National Hobo Control Union that they’re probably fine. Domesticated/non-domesticated animals seem to be at the greatest risk, but it is highly recommended that they not be told of the situation.

Again, we apologize for this unfortunate situation. We will keep you updated on details as they become available to us upon your request. We would like to urge you not to “get all pissy” or “go all crazy on us” as we are trying our best to get on with our lives and put this whole mess behind us.

If you require further information on relocation possibilities, please follow the below link:
and type “Rentals” + where you’d like to live next, into the space provided.

Thanks for being such a trooper!


Bob Guy and Gunter Thurgood
Guy & Thurgood’s Speedy Hobo Removal

Attention Homeowners!: Mention this court-ordered liability disclosure and receive %10 off our next visit! (Not valid in combination with other court-orderd liability disclosure discounts.)


Behind the scenes: Capt. Sunshine’s Rainbow Gang

Friday, February 16th, 2007

“Captain Sunshine’s Smile-Time Rainbow-Hour” was among the top-rated children’s programs for nearly a decade, and an entire generation of children delighted to the sunday-morning antics of Captain Sunshine and his ever-dancing “Rainbow Gang.” However, behind the smiles, the laughter, and the drugs… was a seedy underbelly of syndicated crime, moral depravity, and drugs.

What few realize, even to this day, is that Dewdrop, Twinkle-Bootys, Angel-O-Death and Teddy, the so-called “rainbow gang,” were in fact actual gang members of the ruthless SoCo Stabtackle-Squad. Watching the old reruns with this in mind, the gang undertones become obvious. “The Smile Sign,” the hand gesture used to greet friends in the series appears to be identical to the ‘flashing’ of a known west-coast gang sign. Additionally, cast members frequently made strange references in Ebonics to respect, allegiances and ‘promiscuous women’. Even more conspicuous, it is now obvious that the “Smile-Time Pistol” was an actual colt .45, and the “Rainbow-Gang Jolly-Jump-In”, where new members were ruthlessly beaten prior to entry into the “Funderful Smile Society,” were actual gang initiations. Several episodes featured visits from “HateBone da Bag-Man,” the show’s resident mail-man, who routinely delivered cocaine, pcp and angel dust. Even Smiley-Time Fortress was later determined to be located in an abandoned warehouse in the condemned St. Walburton shipyard 15 miles south of central LA.

Despite these subtle warning signs, the show remained enormously popular with children, and their parents happily shelled-out an estimated sixty-million dollars a year on Capt. Sunshine merchandising. Clothing, toys, videos, lunchboxes and 40oz Malt Liquor. Parents took their children to stand in line for hours in hopes of getting them on the show. Auditions were held regularly in parking garages all over Lower Los Angeles. Children were selected for the show based on their ability to blend in with a crowd, their ability to travel long distances wearing back-packs weighted with sandbags, and their ability to keep their cool when confronted with casting directors dressed as inquisitive police officers.

Few parents realized then the danger they were subjecting their children to. Most children who were cast ended up as coke-mules, and many met tragic deaths in the service of Capt. Sunshine. Hindsight is 20/20, of course. Today it is easy to recognize the show as unapologetic, televised gang-activity. Watching now, one realizes that there are no sets, no costumes, no story-lines, and no scripted dialog or music. In fact, if one watches very carefully these days, they will notice that nobody on the show actually mentions the words “Sunshine,” “Rainbow,” or even “Smile” in any of the 105 episodes that aired between 1982 and 1991. Looking back now, it’s hard to imagine just what the f*** people were thinking.

“I think we all just wanted to believe.” Rev. Timothy Cracken told SLAG magazine in 1995. “I think that deep down, all of us just wants to believe in a place where smiles are currency, and rainbows light our path to happiness.”


The END of the WORLD

Monday, February 12th, 2007

General Tesnic surveyed his war-weary troops.

“LISTEN UP, MEN!” He shouted.
“This is it! We’re going toe to toe with those RED BASTARDS! President Kanting has ordered this strike, one which will be seared into history as the most IMPORTANT MOMENT of ALL TIME!!! You have the support of your people, you REPRESENT them ALL! OUR way of life! Are we going to lie down and let those RED BASTARDS beat US? NO F***ING CHANCE!!!”

The army platoon erupted in roaring confirmation of their absolute commitment to victory.

“This is the fate of the world we’re talking about here, men! The FATE of THE WORLD!!!”

Indeed it was. Nobody in the platoon argued with that statement. With all the incredible events of the past days, most of them were sure they were teetering on the brink of the long prophesized “End of Days.” The end of all time. All over the land, priests stood at pulpits and confirmed the necessity of this feeling to a hysterical populace. War was upon the earth. Total War. The “Final battle for Good against Evil” was how it was portrayed by all, on both sides.

In the “Red” camps, the same rhetoric resounded, albeit in a different language. They too were planning their offensive. They too were sure this was the beginning of Armageddon.


The two armies amassed on the battlefield. Every one of them knew this was the last battle history would EVER record. Their two armies were the most powerful forces ever before seen in their long, war-torn history. Then, the two opponents struck out at each other simultaneously.

Armageddon, the End of the World, had begun.

High in a tree, a bird sang out.
A baby doe made its way through the tall grass.

It did not notice the swirling excitement of the red and black ant colonies ferociously battling for the remains of a dead grasshopper below.


The Institute for the Decidedly Not-Funny (interview)

Saturday, February 10th, 2007

My guest today is Hillary Chuckleton, who has been heading the Institute for the Decidedly Not-Funny (or “IDNF” as it is most commonly referred to), for the past five decades. The science of what is, and what is decidedly-not funny has a rich history full of colorful characters who helped advance this obscure but important science. The following is an excerpt from an interview I had with Ms. Chuckleton in the winter of ‘Ot-six, as we toured a portion of the institute, which is situated on 1,500 forested acres in Hobbcleff, VT.
(The names are abbreviated M, form “me”, and G, for “Hillary”)

M: Thank you for speaking with me, Hill, I can call you “Hill,” can’t I?
G: I think that’d be just dandy. Many of my associates call me many things. “Hill” is certainly a new one, but it doesn’t bother me.

M: Great. So, Hill… this is quite a remarkable institution! Most people only hear about the IDNF when something tragic happens, but obviously there is much more to the IDNF than that. What can you tell us about the daily activities of this institution? What does your institution actually DO?
G: Well, that’s quite a broad question, a lot goes on here as you can see. However, much of our activities involve research. Every time a new product is released, for example, our institute has to test it for its HQ, or “Hilarity Quotient.” This is not as easy as it seems. Many things that are apparently not-funny can become funny in different contexts.

M: Can you think of an example?
G: Well, for example… take a pencil. Pencils aren’t terribly funny objects, right? But jam one in a ninja’s eye or give one to a monster and, well… you see my point. And objects are just one aspect of our research. Ideally, we are trying to analyze every object, location, event, situation, idea… everything… until we end up with a finalized list of those things which are decidedly not funny. We think this knowledge benefits all humanity.

M: That’s an incredible undertaking! How long has this institution been at it?
G: Well, the institution was established in 1874 by Lord Pompermeyer Fannigus Gillbert IV in London. He had a long standing disagreement with his bitter rival, Sir Norrius Tobbleton Scott of Wankchester, over whether or not blasphemy was funny. This was a widely publicized argument, and many of the leading scholars and theologians became heatedly engaged in the debate. When Lord Pompermeyer lost the argument, he was enraged, and disbanded the institute, which fled to safety in the new world, where it has been ever since.

M: Well… what happened with the argument??? Is blasphemy funny or not?
G: Yeah. It’s pretty funny.

M: Well… I’m sure my readers would love to know: How exactly do you test to see whether something is “decidedly not-funny”?
G: Well, we mostly use “the PLOP,” or the “Progressive Laughing-Omission Protocol” for our tests. Basically, we draw a picture of the object, situation, idea etc. to be tested. Then we look at it. If we don’t laugh, we show it to children. If they don’t laugh, we show it to stoned teenagers. Finally, if the stoned teenagers don’t think it’s funny, we show it to stoned children. Most things can be found to be at least partially funny in this way. Cucumbers, for example, always pass as not funny down to the stoned teenagers, and then they’re instantly hilarious. Gets em’ everytime.

M: So if it makes it passed the stoned children it’s not funny?
G: No…no…no… That’s preliminary. The same method is employed again, using contextual combinations. Lets say a plane crash is being tested. This will usually make it past the preliminaries. We then include accessory knowledge to the context. For example, with the contextual knowledge that humans are primates, it is easy to interpret the incident as one involving “a jet-propelled, winged-metal-tube of monkeys plummeting from the stratosphere, the tube-confined primates all the while muttering in symbolic-monkey-speak to a monkey-shaped deity.” That is decidedly funny.

M: How many things have been tested so far?
G: Many hundreds of millions.

M: How many things have been found to be decidedly not-funny?
G: Well…… including all the ones discovered prior to our records becoming digital…..none so far… there have been many dozens of false negatives, though. Many times something will be maintained as not-funny for decades before a new interpretation or physical context reveals its funnitude. Presently, nothing holds the Decidedly Not-Funny (DNF) designation.

M: Not one?
G: So far, no. But we are still looking.

M: That’s hard to believe! There are many things which jump to mind as terribly not-funny. Mass-murder, viral epidemics, nuclear warfare, drowning bunnies… you can’t tell me these things are funny!?
G: That’s the remarkable thing. The universe is tragically hilarious, and all “things” are completely temporary, in any sense we’d recognize. We repeatedly encounter the same problem: Taken to a deep enough context, it’s hard to draw distinct lines between any-thing, so that if any-thing is funny, Everything is funny. The physics of it are as seemingly complex as they are elegant, but that’s what we do here.

M: Then why do you bother calling this place The Institute for the Decidedly NOT-Funny???
G: Because we think it’s funny.


Professor Vladimere Crumbsky’s How2-Bot (Part I)

Thursday, February 8th, 2007

I think it would be fun, wait, amusing, to turn things over to my good chum from “across the pond,” Professor Vladimere Crumbsky for a while. Vladimere has developed a marvelous contraption known to the world as the VC-H2B. This contraption, once strapped to the head, can probe deep within your mind using nothing more than microwave radiation and long, surgical needles. While uncomfortable and sometimes terrifying, the machine is extraordinarily useful when you need to be instructed on the steeps of a simple process.
Vladimere Writes:


If using my robot is what we are doing, then together it will be glorious! I extend thanks to lofty distances for the chances to be on the digital writing box with you all today and beyond. First, let me warn you that my machine is danger. But it also is good. First, let’s look at why that isn’t so. First of all, machines are big and noisy. First, wearing them is uncomfortable, and finally, first, machines know things that are not good for us to eat. That now said, let’s “get to the downing of business!”

Today, we will ask my machine a simple process: cooking my mama’s famous fudged corn-duck, for guests at our party. I simply strap the machine to my assistant head, we’ll just call to him “Chucky” for now (its name isn’t important, they can usually only be used once.) Now we ask the question above, and the digits work out answers in the form of high-pitched beepings.

Ah! We have our answer… Here for you who are reading these, you might think writing them down is good. I sure do. Get a pen and write these down:

– 1.2 kg Frozen Duck Part
– 350 ml Maple Sugarup
– .5 L Cornpaste
– 2.5 kg of Mrs. Stumple’s Choco-bloks
– 2 cans corn pieces

– Thaw duck to .35 thawdnessitude in a standard thawometer (or set in sun for 15 minutes).
– Coat duck-parts with Maple Sugarup and Cornpaste. Let this harden to a thick shell. You will layer these if you know it’s good for you.
– Dunk battered carcass in melted choco-bloks until fudgeining is inescapable.
– Affix corn pellets in festivity decorating.
– Place in lunar convection oven until at 48 kilobits (or set in sun for 15 minutes).

Serve and enjoy the duck! And, like my mama always said: “Eat the duck!”.
Thanks go out to Vladimere, his machine, and his lovely mother for this recipe. It may not agree with the stomachs of most, but it is fun to listen to how f*edup foreigners are. Thanks to all!


Visitor-Mail Grab-Bag-Bonanza (episode I)

Tuesday, February 6th, 2007

As you all know, I am a licensed Phychonautical-Theraprobe Technician, with degrees in Synaptic Liquefaction and Nural Tectonics from the “¡Mexican Commonwealth Fiesta-Institute of Rehabilitative Science Online!”. I am incredibly eager to share my wealth of knowledge with my small, emotionally-unstable reader base. For this reason, I invite you all to email me with your personal quandaries. These can be centered around personal problems, psychological turmoil, indecisiveness in your footwear purchases, confessionals of a sexy nature (no non-sexy confessions, please), or even requests for astrological guidance (I’m a level 4 moon-baby).

That said, I would like to start off helping a good friend of mine, Johndace McWrinkhaven, with his psychological troubles. Johndace writes:

“Dear Dr. Nayr, M.b.:

I have been having considerable difficulty swallowing solid foods lately. This has led to a feeling of inadequacy and is adversely affecting my private, public, and secret social lives. Today, while in the Foodatorium at the socialist sprocket-foundry where I often work, i was too nervous to eat my SIP (standard issue potato) in front of my present love interest “Charles”, so I retreated to the men’s room in a panic, only to find my other love interest, “Victoria” already using the facilities. When she asked me why I looked so flustered, I was overwhelmed by anxiety and became intensely disoriented. I flung the potato limp-wristed into the bathroom mirror, then curled into a ball on the floor. Upon waking fully-restrained in the facility’s psych-dome, I realized I needed professional help. Since I don’t know any legitimate professionals, I’m turning to you, my trusted, America-friend. Please help.

Cheerfully yours,


Well, Johndace! That certainly sounds like a predicament! I once had a similar issue, except instead of an inability to swallow solid foods, I was unable to leave convincing voice-mail messages insulting those with similar problems to mine. In anycase, I think I can recall some helpful tidbits I learned at the ¡Fiesta Institute!.

From my own research, along with some other stuff I just made up, but which seems probably totally right: it is clear to me that you are suffering from a condition known as Acute OFIC(e)., or “Oh, F***! I Can’t (Eat)!” This disorder is of the family “OFIC(x)”, which can include a wide range of dysfunction’s, including OFIC(see), OFIC(breath), OFIC(dance). Yours is a very common disorder, occurring in four out of every four-hundred-million adults. A number of prescription creams have been developed, which, once rubbed on the scalp, slow your mental activities to levels which render your problem secondary. I would advise against these products, as they regularly do more damage than goodage.

I have a solution that I think you may find “palatable” :

Keep these items on your person at all times: a plastic bag, a hammer, and a 6-quart thermos of grapefruit juice. Whenever you need to ingest solid food, follow the following recipe: place the item to be consumed in the plastic bag, along with a quart of grapefruit juice (the citric acid in the juice will maybe help to dissolve and moisten the food probably). Strike the bag violently and repeatedly with the hammer, until the bag is filled with a pulpy puree. Have a friend assist you in pouring the contents of the bag over your mouth. Chances are some of this will make it down your throat.

¡Problem solved!

We will be answering more visitor mail periodically! Stay tuned for more psychoanalytical fun!

Just a little side note. This was an incredibly stupid problem. Please, anyone writing in, make sure that the personal problem you need help with isn’t a stupid one. To check to see if your problem is a stupid one, cross-reference your problem with “Rutherford and Hotchkey’s Atlas of Stupid Problems.”