I’m trying to free your mind, Neo. But I can only show you the big-boy door. You’re the one that has to walk through it.
How do we know we aren’t in the Retard Matrix? Think about it.
What do you do with your life? Undergrad/Masters/Doctorate/Post-Doc? Maybe you only think you’re pursuing higher level education, but really you’re in a nursery school making play-doh monsters and pissing your pants on the reg.
That piece of art you admired? The Da Vinci or David or Picasso or what-have-you? What if it was only Sesame Street? And you didn’t know.
That fancy restaurant you took your girlfriend to last week? Someone made you put on a bib so you didn’t drool all over yourself and your macaroni, which is what I assume retards eat. “But my girlfriend! Retards don’t have girlfriends!” Of course they do. The downs kid always had a ‘girlfriend’ in high school; sure it was only the lunch lady from Czechoslovakia who was just going along with it to get a few cheap laughs, but the downs kid never figured that out.
And neither will you. Because you’re retarded. And you just don’t know it.
Alan H: Yeah so I’m talking to an editor from the Chronicle Herald and he says “I don’t like the term ‘sex worker’. It’s too euphemistic. We should just call them prostitutes.” So I told him, “well by that logic we should just call them all whores, right?” and he just sort of shut up.
Highlights of the 15th Annual Halifax Parade of Lights Christmas Greetings Parade
Me: Man, after all watching all those North Korean propaganda videos I have much higher expectations for these children’s marching bands… and our kids just aren’t living up to them.
Ben: Maybe because these kids haven’t been training since they were four?
Me: Yeah, but I mean North Korea is starving to death and you never see them wearing their uniforms wrong. Every one of these marching bands has at least one kid out of uniform. Look at that guy on the trombone he’s just wearing his regular jacket and hat… and his trombone is broke! That would not happen in North Korea’s Christmas parade.
Ben: Yeah, democracies really don’t do parades as well as dictatorships.
Me: It’s because they’re hungry in Pyongyang. Hungry for success.
Ben: Also, I hate the crowds. Too many children. You never see crowds at the Pyongyang Dear Leader Seasons Greetings Parade. It’s Kim and his family and some generals or loyal party comrades watching from a balcony. They’re all doing that limp wristed clap and nervously watching Dear Leader from the corner of their eyes.
A float drives by that’s just the word “toys” spelled with gift wrap paper and an arrow pointing to a balloon globe and some oversized crayons.
Me: That wouldn’t even be an acceptable present if dad lost his job and took up drinking.
Announcer in float: Hey kids! What do you want for Christmas?
A child in a church sponsored float with a manger screams into a microphone, “Happy birthday, baby Jesus!”
Me: Oh man, I just thought of the best slogan for Christianity. “Putting the Christ back in Christmas, one nail at a time.” It would totally get some meat in the seats on Sunday mornings.
Truly Terrible: My one Christmas wish - and it wouldn’t even have to be at Christmas - would be to have that gingerbread man costume, but with a bite taken out of his head. I’d wear it and run around screaming in pain and asking children why they would be so cruel.
Me: Guys, I think we just became too cynical for Christmas.
"I vant to suck your blood! It’s twilight time! I’m blood sucking! I’m doing a vampire thing cause chicks are all into vampires and stuff, you know because of the stupid Twilight movie and all that other crap."
"You are dressed like the phantom of the opera. He is not a vampire."
"He eats theater people."
"No, he doesn’t." "I think he might." "He does."
"And I’m surprised you even know who the phantom of the opera is."
I JUST PLAYED CALL OF DUTY: BLACK OPS FOR OVER TWELVE HOURS
YUP. IT’S THE BEST THING EVER AND I’M HORRIBLY ADDICTED TO IT. HAD A MARATHON SESSION WITH JUSTIN AND MARK AND OTHERS DROPPED IN AN OUT. IT DOESN’T OWN MY SOUL, BUT IT HAS A LONG TERM LEASE.
THE BEST THING IS THE BALLISTIC KNIFE. IT’S LIKE IF BATMAN HAD SEX WITH A NINJA AND SHE GAVE BIRTH TO A KNIFE. IT’S AMAZING.
I INGESTED A LOT OF CAFFEINE. IT WAS AMAZING. WHEN WE STARTED PLAYING A SUN WAS IN THE SKY AND THEN IT SET AND NOW A NEW ONE IS IN THE SKY. THIS IS MESSED UP. NEVER PLAYING A VIDEO GAME FOR THIS LONG EVER AGAIN (UNTIL NEXT NOVEMBER WHEN THE NEW CALL OF DUTY COMES OUT PROBABLY).
You feel really cool when playing it and start to think maybe you really are a member of an elite special ops team and that you really do go on crazy dangerous missions and save millions of lives but afterwards you just feel like a nerd who is going to die alone and unloved (but with over 10mil xp and 2000 prestiges). There’s also a tremendous sense of feeling cheap and deflated once you realize you literally spent an entire day playing this stupid, awful game.
So some idiot left a piss-message in my apartment building
I can’t read the word(s) written in the elevator, but you can tell they’re definitely attempts at letters of the English alphabet.
Also, in the hallway is the message of some initial (either a B or an M, I can’t make it out) and then a heart that looks like a bum followed by what’s either an A or a V, depending on how you look at it.
You know, there are much better ways to express your love using a penis. Just saying.
I just wanted to warn you all that I finally have the edge I need to compete with the smokers. I am no longer a dork. I am rebellious. Cool. Aloof. Badass. Dangerous, but not repellently so. Prepare to see the new Cool Adam loitering it up wherever it is those cool smoking people normally loiter. But a warning: my body is approaching dangerously cool temperatures, so put on your winter hats and gloves before approaching me. They actually had to turn the heat up today because I have literally become too cool for school.
That being said, I haven’t actually started smoking tobacco. That rich, flavorful smoke comes with too high a price.
Instead, I just got the coolest thing ever (from my brother Kyle, who needs to update his tumblr blog): Scooby-Doo candy smokes (apparently there were no Popeye ones available. Whatever. The Scooby gang is at least as cool as Popeye). So I just thought I would give you fair warning that I’m leaving the dork circle and going to hang out with the cool kids who are smoking under the bleachers.
In conclusion, I’m riding the Scooby-Doo coolness train all the way to Cool Town, Population: Me. Next stop: Bitchinville.
Sometimes I like to pretend whole parts of my life never happened.
Like when I was a lefty in high school and thought Ghandi and Che Guevara were actual heroes and maybe I even voted for the NDP… twice. And I thought Jack Kerouac was the epitome of Western literature.
Jesus. What was I thinking?
But now I’ve repressed those awful memories. I keep them stored and half-forgotten in the dark corners of my brain with other awful memories like back when I used to post regularly on a Star Wars message board.
Yet if W.’s decision-making leaves something to be desired, his story-telling is good. He writes of a visit to Russia, when Putin showed him his black Labrador, Koni. “Bigger, stronger, and faster than Barney,” Putin bragged.
Later, when W. recounted this to Stephen Harper, the Canadian prime minister, Harper drolly noted, “You’re lucky he only showed you his dog.”
So Wikipedia just introduced me to my new hero, relevant parts below:
In 1826, as a result of a bet, he is said to have ridden his horse into the Bedford Hotel, up the grand staircase and onto the balcony, from which he jumped, still seated on his horse, over the diners in the restaurant below, and out through the window onto the Parade.
Mytton would go hunting in any kind of weather. In the thrill of the chase he was known to strip down and continue the chase naked. He is also recorded as crouching naked in snow drifts and swimming winter rivers completely nekked. He also continued hunting despite being unseated and sustaining broken ribs -“unmurmuring when every jar was an agony”.
On a freezing winter day he would lead his small army of stable lads on rat hunts, each stable boy equipped with ice skates.
At Halston, he would get out of bed in the middle of the night, take off his flimsy nightshirt and set off completely naked carrying his favourite gun across the frozen fields towards his lake. Here he would ambush the ducks, fire a few shots and return to bed apparently none the worse for his ordeal. He frequently got up again half an hour later - stripped off and went through the whole process again.
Once he picked a fight with a tough Shropshire miner who disturbed his hunt and the bare knuckle fight lasted 20 rounds before the miner gave up.
He arrived at a dinner party riding a bear and when he tried to make it go faster it bit into his calf.
Did you read that? He arrived at a dinner party riding a bear and when he tried to make it go faster it bit into his calf. His biographer, Charles James Apperley described it thus: ‘‘He once rode this bear into his drawing-room, in full hunting costume. The bear carried him very quietly for a time; but on being pricked by the spur he bit his rider through the calf of his leg.’’ Despite being bitten, Mad Jack kept the bear Nell as a pet. However, it later attacked a servant and Jack had it killed.
Mytton could drink eight bottles of port wine a day along with a helping of brandy. He managed to kill one of his horses, Sportsman, by making it drink a bottle of port. When he attended Cambridge University he brought 2,000 bottles of port with him. He left without graduating.
He is said to have bitten fighting dogs with his own teeth, even standing upright with a mastiff held in his own jaws without using his hands to support the weight. He was also rumored to have put his wife’s lapdog on the fire in a jealous rage, burning it to death. Though witnesses claim what actually happened was he threw the dog high in the air, caught him and his butler yelled ‘sir you will kill him’.
During his stay in France he tried to cure his hiccups by setting his shirt on fire. It worked but he severely burned himself.
Jack “Mad Jack” Mytton used the modern equivalent of £750,000 to bribe his way into parliament, but he found political debate boring and attended parliament only once and apparently for just 30 minutes.
"His wives bore him six children who he would affectionately toss into the air as babies and pelt with oranges."
Oh wow thanks for the spoiler warning, Associated Press
A big admission ahead of bigger mission for Batman
(AP) – 2 hours ago
PHILADELPHIA (AP) — Batman’s alter ego, Bruce Wayne, is going public about his role behind the Dark Knight.
After a lifetime spent wearing the cowl - and a scowl that’s made him the scourge of Gotham’s madmen - the fictional billionaire is taking full responsibility for keeping the caped crusader financed to fight crime.
The admission is unveiled Wednesday in the final pages of “Batman and Robin” No. 16 that marks the last issue in a run by Scottish writer Grant Morrison.
The acknowledgment in the final pages comes as Wayne holds a news conference where he asks those gathered: “Some of you may have wondered … how does a man like Batman afford to constantly update his crime-fighting technology? Where does his money come from?
"Well, the answer is me."
The confession, Morrison said, is part of a detailed effort that puts into motion a plan for Batman Incorporated, a global network of Batmen from China to Argentina to fight crime worldwide.
Morrison told The Associated Press that the decision was made to protect Wayne’s secret identity by deflecting attention away from speculation it was he who wore the cape.
"We’ve sidetracked the media that he has actually been financing Batman all these years," Morrison explained of the long arc he’s written that has seen the Dark Knight plunge through time and space and have his mantle taken up by former Robin Dick Grayson. "He is the man behind the Batman, but he is not Batman."
In doing so, Wayne is free to take his crime fighting international by building what Morrison calls a “global, international army of Batmen. Batman in China, Batman in Japan, Batman in Russia. Expanding the Batman brand to areas where he really hasn’t been before.”
Those tales will unfold in full in the first issue of “Batman Incorporated,” due out Nov. 17.
Sorry to nerd it up on the tumbl blog, but I’ve been following this comic for about a year now and then I saw this “news” report just as I’m getting ready to head downtown to Strange Adventures.
So this is a flag I designed on Paint a few summers back when I realized how easy it would be to invade and conquer Pitcairn Island.
Description: the Union Jack in the upper left makes this a type of Red Ensign, I think. Except I made it a faggy light blue instead of red because we’re a tropical island nation. The turd beneath it is the bird’s-eye-view of Pitcairn Island. The three badass soldiers are from Davide’s Oath of the Horatii, the most badass painting ever (well, tied with A Christian Dirce).
The smiting angel I got from some prayer book or something. Not sure where I stole the cherubs crowning my awesome head from, but there is it. Deus Vult is latin for “God Wills It”, a popular slogan during the crusades used for riling up the crusaders, which is exactly the kind of mentality New Pitcairn will be trying to cultivate. The NINA slogan I added because we’re going to need tons of immigrants to get this country up and running, and it’s a timely reminder that we shouldn’t allow the wrong kind of immigrant in. Plus, it’s fun to discriminate against the drinking, potato eaters. I never really understood St. Patrick’s day… why would anyone celebrate Ireland?
The pirate dude is totes Public Domain, I checked on that so that no one tries to sue me once I become King of Pitcairn Island.
I also drafted a really long constitution for my new island, but I can’t seem to find it in My Documents. But we had tons of great laws.
So, who wants to help me conquer Pitcairn Island? First five tumblrs to help my cause get to become nobles, everyone after that will have to be a commoner. Sorry, that’s just how it goes.