The greatest Wikipedia article I've found (this week)
The 1904 Summer Olympics marathon was the most bizarre event of the Games. It was run in brutally hot weather, over dusty roads, with horses and automobiles clearing the way and creating dust clouds. The first to arrive at the finish line was Frederick Lorz, who had stopped running because of exhaustion after nine miles (14.5 km). His manager gave him a lift in his car for the next eleven miles (17.7 km), after which it broke down; Lorz then continued on foot back to the Olympic stadium, where he broke the finishing line tape and was greeted as the winner of the race. When the officials thought he had won the race, Lorz played along with his practical joke until he was found out shortly after the medal ceremony and was banned for a year by the AAU for this stunt, later winning the 1905 Boston Marathon.
Thomas Hicks (a Briton running for the United States) was the first to cross the finish-line legally, after having received several doses of strychnine sulfate mixed with brandy from his trainers. He was supported by his trainers when he crossed the finish, but is still considered the winner. Hicks had to be carried off the track, and possibly would have died in the stadium, had he not been treated by several doctors. A Cuban postman named Felix Carbajal joined the marathon, arriving at the last minute. He had to run in street clothes that he cut around the legs to make them look like shorts. He stopped off in an orchard en route to have a snack on some apples, which turned out to be rotten. The rotten apples caused him to have to lie down and take a nap. Despite falling ill to apples he finished in fourth place.
The marathon included the first two black Africans to compete in the Olympics; two Tswana tribesmen named Len Tau (real name: Len Taunyane) and Yamasani (real name: Jan Mashiani). But they weren’t there to compete in the Olympics, they were actually the sideshow. They had been brought over by the exposition as part of the Boer War exhibit (both were really students from Orange Free State in South Africa, but this fact was not made known to the public). Len Tau finished ninth and Yamasani came in twelfth. This was a disappointment, as many observers were sure Len Tau could have done better if he had not been chased nearly a mile off course by aggressive dogs.
So Mom decorated for Christmas and some of the decorations she has are Santa Claus heads and they look like shrunken heads. Every time I look at the Santa Shrunken Heads all I can think about is a bloody revolution at the North Pole, possibly precipitated by outsourcing the labour to a tribe from Ecuador or Peru.
The Ass Goblins of Auschwitz, by Cameron Pierce (2009).
In a land where black snow falls in the shape of swastikas, there exists a nightmarish prison camp known as Auschwitz. It is run by a fascist, flatulent race of aliens called the Ass Goblins, who travel in apple-shaped spaceships to abduct children from the neighboring world of Kidland. Prisoners 999 and 1001 are conjoined twin brothers forced to endure the sadistic tortures of these ass-shaped monsters. To survive, they must eat kid skin and work all day constructing bicycles and sex dolls out of dead children.
While the Ass Goblins become drunk on cider made from fermented children, the twins plot their escape. But it won’t be easy. They must overcome toilet toads, cockrats, ass dolls, and the surgical experiments that are slowly mutating them into goblin-child hybrids.
Forget everything you know about Auschwitz…you’re about to be Shit Slaughtered.
Warren Ellis says, “I am slightly afraid of it.”
The Guardian wrote, “In an era when very little remains shocking, Pierce might have actually managed to create a genuinely disturbing work of fiction, the literary equivalent of Schindler’s List rewritten by the Marquis De Sade and filmed as a Tim Burton animated feature.”
Me: You remember that old black and white cartoon, I can’t remember if it was Mickey Mouse or Bosko, but anyways he gets hit by a car and goes to hell? And there’s an imp demon that whips him over and over with an electrical chord? I’d like to do that, I guess, with the chord.
[NR]: huh. [later] So how do you feel about retail?
Me: I suppose it’s marginally better than being the farmhand whose job it is to fellate the livestock.
I was just watching this thing with Rob Brydon and he said that, apparently, back in the 60s when the Batman show was popular, Burt Ward had a thing he called his ‘Batograph’ where he would, ahem, ‘come on a girl’s breasts and then sign his name in the ejaculate.’
Completely disgusting or kind of classy? You decide.
Isn't it weird that no one's ever seen Bruce Wayne and Batman in the same room together?
I think someone should introduce them because they would totally be best friends. Think about it: everyone knows that Mr. Wayne’s parents were shot dead right in front of him as a child, and Batman dedicates his life to fighting crime. They would be like two peas in a pod tbqh.
One of my friends disagrees. He told me that friends because Wayne is a total coward. He said that when criminals attacked the rich persons’ charity banquet last summer everyone saw “Bruce Wayne run out of there like a little bitch.” And Batman hates cowards.
Today I've been annoying my family with my awful impressions based on the cast of The Wire
I have four characters that I sort of do: The Bunk, Bubbles, McNulty-Cedric Daniels hybrid and my one size fits all Weebay-Snoop Gangster.
The Bunk involves me mumbling and saying inappropriate things. “Look at that bowlegged muther fucka.” “Adam, could you not curse at the dinner table?” “I made him walk like that.” I also say ‘done’ a lot and talk about being a murda polees.
Bubbles basically involves touching my face a lot, ratting people out and then asking for money. *touches nose* “That dog from Fayette Street… you know, the german sheppard? Pissed all over the garden again… Say how’s about hookin’ Bubs up with a Jackson for that tip?” “There’s no Jackson on Canadian money and I’m not giving you anything.” “I appreciate that, sir. But how about you bank that for ol’ Bubs, I’m trying to get my shit together right now. Heheha.”
The McNulty-Daniels is basically me trying to talk like an angry hardboiled detective novel about how the system screws us over and then asking ‘what the fuck did I do?’ I continually talk trash about the city and how I don’t like playing the game. “Just once, I’d like to know what it’s like to work for a real police department.” “What? You want to be a cop?” “The bosses want me to do this quick and clean and that’s what I’m trying to do. But this case calls for a DNR or a wiretap and if you don’t do it right you may as well not do it at all.” Yeah, this one’s obviously confused about whether it’s McNulty or Daniels.
The gangster one is definitely the worst and also my favourite. I try to act like Weebay and Cheese and Snoop and also sometimes Tuco from Breaking Bad. “Did you like supper, Adam?” “That shit was tight.” *I hand over a fistful of change because I never have real money* “What’s this?” “For the re-up, son. Don’t you know nothin?” “What?” *Tries to hand change back to me* “Nawww dawg, you keep that. You earned that bump like a muther fucka.” *taps chest twice and then makes a gang sign* “Adam are you drunk?” “It’s all in the game.” Also I continually mention that ‘it’s all in the game’ and that I’m expecting ‘points on that package’, etc etc. It’s better if you see it in person but it’s still really bad.
Stanley joins incumbent cats Cartier and Gypsy at 24 Sussex and, according to the Ottawa Humane Society, the Harpers have hosted some 87 foster cats during their time in the capital. On one occasion, the Harpers took in 11 kittens after a fire at an animal shelter in Cornwall, Ont.
“I had a little bow tie made for my one cat and a little lace collar made for the other cat,” said Mrs. Harper.
They also used to throw birthday parties for their cats. There’s also an entire itty bitty kitty Parliament behind the real parliament building.
Of course, the greatest cat in the Commonwealth was probably Simon, who was awarded the feline equivalent of the Victoria Cross for his service in the British navy.
Larry looking very comfortable on a hot air vent beside the famous black door of No 10.
From the BBC:
Downing Street’s cat - and official rodent catcher - Larry has been spotted asleep on the job for several hours.
The tabby was brought to No 10 to tackle the rat problem, but on Monday it emerged that a mouse had appeared at a recent prime ministerial dinner.
The PM’s spokesman rebuffed calls for Larry to resign, saying he “brings a lot of pleasure to a lot of people”.
The BBC’s Norman Smith said the arrival of the entire cabinet had not woken him from his slumber on a hot air vent.
He tweeted that photographers arriving at Downing Street for a press conference were initially ordered not to take shots of Larry asleep by the famous black door.
However, aides eventually backed down and said the cat could be pictured.
'Threw a fork'
Four-year-old Larry came to Downing Street from Battersea Dogs and Cats Home in February after a large rat was seen scuttling past the door of No 10 during live television broadcasts.
He was said to have “a very strong predatory drive”, developed during his time on the streets.
But it has emerged that the PM resorted to throwing a fork at a mouse last week when it was spotted during a dinner with cabinet ministers. In June, David Cameron told the BBC he was “a good mouser” and had caught three mice since his arrival.
He had earlier seen a mouse in his kitchen during another dinner with family - although he insisted at the time that Larry had not yet been allowed into that room.
There have been suggestions that Larry spends more of his time asleep or with a lady friend, Maisie, than he does hunting rodents.
"Yeah, the poor bastard. He actually said that Nickelback must be a good band because of how financially successful they were and that Chad Kroeger was an inspiration to him. You could just see the wolves circling round. There was no helping him. They didn’t let up until he pretty much quit music."
Also when I was a kid I would take an empty peanut butter jar, wash it out and rip off the label. Then I’d fill it with water and drop Han Solo inside and then chuck it in my freezer overnight. Sometimes I would put Batman or Robin in the jar instead if Mr. Freeze was menacing Gotham/the living room.
I guess it was kind of annoying because I’d inevitably get water all over the floor but that’s the price you pay to end Victor Fries’ nefarious reign of terror.
Anyways, I guess my point is that I had an awesome childhood while kids today suck because they probably only dick around with their digi-poke-lame-amons or whatever stupid games they play.
When I was a kid I heard a comedian on the T.V. talk about women in the inner city turning tricks. Obviously his meaning went over my head because I assumed he was talking about magic tricks for the longest time. I think it would be a much better world if that was the case. Imagine:
A car slows to a stop in the seedy red light district. A grizzled veteran of the street hops walks up to the window, wearing her street tuxedo.
Prostitute: Alright hun, $20 and I’ll pull a rabbit out of my hat, $50 and I’ll saw you in half.
Skeezy buyer of prostitute: What a gyp!
Prostitute: Hey now, just remember. Anyone can saw someone in half, but only a magician can put the pieces back together.
SBOP: Yeah yeah, okay. Do you do balloon animals?
Prostitute: What do I look like, some kind of children’s clown? Get the fuck outta here!