Apparently, in 1991, Sizzler decided to wrap themselves in a freedom blanket with a four minute video explaining how awesome and freedom-loving their restaurant is.
When Irish Eyes Are Smiling has never been this menacing before.
The Bloggess would like you to meet Juanita.
GhettoHikes, being the Tumblr of a purported outdoor guide for underprivileged urban youth, wherein he captures their comments for posterity. Ex:
WE OUT IN NATURE DAWG, AINT NO NEED TO USE DICTIONARY WORDS LIKE BEVERAGE
(which, frankly, sounds like Achewood) or
JAMARCUS MAD CUZ I CHANGE HIS FACEBOOK TO SAY HE LIKE MEN AND HE CANT CHANGE IT CUZ THIS FOREST AINT GOT NO WIFI
Today I Learned: You can make awesome faux-motion sculptures with colored PVC pipe.
Someone needs to explain this to me immediately.
Someone shouted “OH SHIT, it’s coming back!” and pointed up the street. I looked, to see a monstrous pit bull galloping down the street, full-tilt. I remember thinking that it looked just like one of those things from “Ghostbusters” as it leapt, soaring through the air and shoulder-checking the man with the OE cans, sending him flat and the cans scattering.
The dog then grabbed a can in its jaws and bit down hard, puncturing the can and shaking it like a baby — which sent streams of malt liquor shooting out of the holes around its fangs and straight down the monster’s throat. It spat the mostly-empty can out into the street, covered in drool and malt liquor and wagged its tail, happily burping.
The man picked himself up and yelled “motherfucker, what did I JUST TELL YOU,” and grabbed the dog by its neck and belly, clean-and-jerked it and threw the thing like a soccer ball as far as he could. It hit the pavement and skidded, snarling and growling and ran straight for him, knocked him down again and grabbed another can.
This cycle had been iterating for a little while.
JWZ is on a roll with the weird text:
“Motherfucker was crazy,” says Gloria Daniel, a girlfriend he kept on the side for forty years. “It was the drugs.”
One night in the summer of 2001, after he’d slathered her in Vaseline (“He liked you all greased up,” she says. “Like a porkchop”) and wore her out trying to come, he gave up and left the room, and Gloria dozed off. When she woke up, Mr. Brown was standing at the foot of the bed in a full-length mink coat over his bare chest, a black cowboy hat, and silk pajama pants with one leg tucked into a cowboy boot and the other hanging out. He had a shotgun over his shoulder and a white stripe of Noxzema under each eye. “I’m an Indian tonight, baby,” he announced. “C’mon, let’s let ‘em have it.” Then he dumped a pickle jar of change on the floor, told her to get a machete, and went out to the garage. He took the Rolls, drove ten miles to Augusta, weaving all over the road, clipping mailboxes, smoking more dope, and screaming about being an Indian. Gloria kept thinking she should flag down a cop, say she’d been kidnapped.
Like she says, motherfucker was crazy on drugs.
But you will not be able to resist giggling at awful things happening to this vapid flock of TV news drones.
Ladies and gentlemen of Heathen nation, I give you Boomstick. Shoot stuff. Pick up ammo. Repeat.
This is without a doubt the oddest talkshow ever. With, obviously, John Malkovich.
In Nigeria, apparently, some men keep hyenas as pets.
This looks awful cool, but it does sort of make me wonder what all the extra ‘lectricity might be doing to, say, me.
I’ve just learned of the existence of what may be the only legitimate use of Powerpoint: Battledecks. Apparently, at SXSW, there’s a “competition” that folks are invited to participate in wherein they must present, extemporaneously, with a slide deck they have never seen and which makes no sense whatsoever. They are then graded on flow, gesture, jargon, credibility, and getting through the deck.
Madcap hilarity ensues. Uberblogger Dooce‘s husband Jon participated this year, and points us to this compilation video from Rocketboom. Jon’s post also includes links to some representative slides, most of which are enough to make you laugh without someone trying to “present” something over it. There’s also a photoset on Flickr.
Install one of these in your home.
Go visit this Dutch store’s site, and then wait for a few seconds. Somebody’s got a case of the too-clever-by-half over there, but it’s cute.
How ’bout some feltidermy?
Just go watch. Safe for work.
“Hey, let’s make Stephen Hawking out of LEGO!”
Look. I’ve been at this a long time. Heathen’s more than seven years old already, and we were looking at weird shit on the Internet a long time before that, or even before most of you knew it was there.
All that said, this is the weirdest fucking thing I’ve ever seen on the web.
Here’s a handy list of dos and don’ts you should probably keep on your person. Enjoy.
An artist has created a shitting machine into which food is placed, and which thereby converts said food into something very like shit.
Here are the most dangerous animals of 2007. Beware!
Many of you may be unaware of the controversy between adherents of the scientifically-based theory of Parentism and those who suggest that External Delivery is a just-as-rigorous alternative. Predictably, the Parentists claim that ED is little more than Santaclausism renamed.
Madcap hilarity, of course, ensues.
Via JWZ, we discover two things:
First, the bad news: Deaf parents in the UK are agitating for the right to create deaf children via embryo screening. Yes, this means deliberately creating a disabled child instead of a normal one. W. T. F.
Second, the good news: The enormous puppet people are back with a squid.
That is all.
GoodieBagTV bring us a rather NSFW neo-carol for the holidays with Fist Me This Christmas. Enjoy.
Go to FreeRice.com. Trust me. Unless you have lots of time to kill.
These disembodied hand pillows, apparently designed to fool one’s infant into believe they’re being held.
Overcompensating, which today is about Service Snakes. Enjoy.
Cracked’s list of the 9 most badass Bible verses includes Exodus 2:11-12, with commentary:
One day after Moses had grown up, he went out to where his own people were and watched them at their hard labor. He saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his own people. Glancing this way and that, and seeing no one, he killed the Egyptian and hid him in the sand.
Sure, Moses was a great leader, an emancipator of his people and a prophet. Most people don’t know that he also was the Biblical equivalent of Splinter Cell’s Sam Fisher–a well-honed killing machine, able to slay from the shadows without pity or remorse. Martin Luther King may have had a dream, but Moses had a body count.
You can almost picture the scene: An Egyptian soldier is wailing on a hapless Hebrew when Moses, clothed in head-to- toe black, drops down from the ceiling. Moving with cat-like grace, he sneaks up behind the soldier and, taking his head in his hands, snaps the man’s neck with one savage twist. As the lifeless body slumps to the ground, Moses lights up a cigar. “Well,” he quips, “looks like someone bit off more than he could Jew.”
This Canadian PSA is the scariest and most awful such thing I’ve ever seen. I blame Rob.
BettyBeauty, color for “the hair down there.”