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Saturday, February 26, 2011

Search for the Smartest Retard in the World


       
       It would be pointless, I think, to write about who the smartest person in the world might be, since everyone already knows already--and believe me, I am well aware of the redundancy of that statement, but it had to be said. He's been wowing us with his mullet and mental ninjitsu since the 80's. I'm talking of course about MacGyver. But who do you suppose is the smartest retard? I find that to be a much more interesting question, as retards are traditionally not very smart. So a search of this nature is bound to require a lot of legwork, and a very good sense for the nuances of subtlety.
       But some of you may not know what constitutes a retard in the first place, and indeed a great many of you are retarded yourselves. You might be wondering if you are up to the challenge, and you might also be wondering why your pants are so warm. That's because you pooped them. That's why it smells like that. You're going to need to change. When you're done with that we can get started with this search.
       Ok, the first thing you should know about retards is that they are not limited to people with obvious mental handicaps. Indeed a great many of them look just like you and me, especially you. So don't judge a book by it's cover, you illiterate fuck. They're not like siamese twins or people who were born without a face or whatever. You can't always just spot them. Some of them can even articulate fairly well. But there are some subtle differences, as you will presently see. Here is an example of a smarter than average retard, though I doubt he will end up being the smartest, since our search has only just begun.



      Hello, I'm Tom. I like turtles. I seem mentally deficient in all my films--not just the ones where I'm supposed to be. Here is a shot of me attempting to eat fire. Burned the roof of my mouth something awful. Did I mention I have like 11 Oscars?




Awright den. I'm Tum. Payple used to fink I was briwwiant, til roundabout 6 dayes ago.




       This guy is not even in the running. He's pretty much just your average retard. But I've been wanting to use this GIF for awhile now.



       I'm not the one who is the magnet, sir, you flatter me. Clearly one of us is made of pure ferromagnetic lard, and I'll give you a hint: he's wearing face paint. Anyone who has not seen the Insane Clown Posse "Miracles" video needs to watch it at this exact moment in time. I'm talking about now.




Now this is just completely irrelevant. Sorry.




        Leftover from my post on Norwegian Black Metal. Again, I apologize. It's no more disturbing than a regular picture of Lady Gaga.



       
        "Sometimes people write novels and they just be so wordy and so self-absorbed. I am not a fan of books. I would never want a book's autograph. I am a proud non-reader of books."
        Hi, I'm Kanye, and I really said that. And that is so not even close to the dumbest thing I have said. The government gives AIDS to midgets while framing OJ. Damn I'm good at this shit.



       What am I doing with my hands, you ask? Oh nothing, just being an idiot savant. One of the greatest there ever was. Yes, I am still wearing the ear ring and I will be until the day that I DIE, so stop playa hatin on my ass ahhhiight? 
       "Learning to fly was a work of art. I'm so passionate about flying I often fly up the coast for a cheeseburger."
        Das right, I said it was a work of art, you punk bitches. Quit playa hatin my shit.


 

Two girls, one cup (of derp).




 

Fucking WinRAR. Thanks for playing you punk ass bitches. You've won an owl fort.






Sunday, February 13, 2011

Who's Hot and Who's Not in 1897?

     
       As we gather our steam like a state of the art locomotive and push forward into the new year, it's curious to think who will be possessed of that ever so hard to define "Edison" factor this year. In modern day parlance we often call this The Fizz. So who is it who will fizz in our phosphates this year? And who do you suppose will fall off the proverbial penny farthing? I have my opinions, of course, but please do take them with a grain of salt as I just lost four of my children to typhoid.
       I implore you now, dearest reader of my serialized whimsy-frolics: please, my good chap or madam, do not get it honey-fuggled.  I'm not trying to wake snakes by presenting my own slantindicular views as huckleberries above persimmons. I learned that the hard way during my coverage of last year's quilting bee. That was some pumpkins. I almost got rowed up Salt River just for cutting a few shines. The whole thing was a sin to Crockett and I don't aim to repeat it.




John Martin Harvey - He has The Fizz this year. Though I find his three first names to be ever so distasteful. I do hope in a hundred years time this fad will have passed. 




Luisa, Marquise Casati Stampa di Soncino - I declare this saucy foreign mistress to be a possessor of "Le Fizz."




 These People - Whoever they are, they do not have The Fizz.




Strong Women - They may have been hot in the 1880's, but so was leeching.




Horses are out this year. If you just purchased one, sorry.




The Stanley Steamer - Compared to a horse-driven buggy it is so much cleaner. It's also in.




Racism is all the rage still, so if you're racist, then bully for you I suppose.



 
Dry Diving is one of the hottest things you can possibly do.




Flagchicks - These colors actually do run, or waddle at least, but they are also completely in.




Surprisingly, superhuman jumping ability is out.




Golfing from the top of a skyscraper under construction is the toast of the town in Gotham.




Coquettishness is on the way out, thank God.




As usual, tits are in.




Typhoid - For the sake of my family, I hope it's not hot this year.




Chick with a bigass whip is totally fucking in.




 I am almost too lethargic and withdrawn to announce that melancholy is in.



  
Split ends are practically jizzing The Fizz at this point.



  
The Gigantic Tambourine has never been so in. Everyone and their midwife is going to want one of these. Hope everyone has a great, death-free year, though I do realize how unlikely that is.


Tuesday, February 8, 2011

You Would Know I Wasn't Gay If I Was Balls Deep In Your Ass



       Believe it or not, this is how I am perceived sometimes. I realize I'm not one these stereotypically masculine guys who can fix cars and shit, and I'm fine with that. I will never star in a Wrangler commercial, and Toby Keith will never respect me--but in no way do I behave like a flamboyant homosexual. Anyone who really knows me can attest to this. If you do know me and you are a regular reader of this blog you could finally for once in your life leave a goddam comment defending me on this. I'm looking at you, mom.
       

       I don't want people to think I am against being gay, because that is absolutely not the case. That would be like opposing plate tectonics. It's okay if you disagree with that statement. I respect your opinion and your right to be a retard. It's just that I am not gay, ya dig? I wouldn't want people thinking I'm a woman, either. If people were going around saying I have two lactating breasts and a vagina that's a rumor I would want to nip in the bud. 
       I could be blowing this out of proportion. It may not be true that almost everyone I know thinks I have a poster of Dr. McDreamy in my rectum right now, that if I had one wish it would be to Slip n Slide down a giant dildo and into the lap of Manute Bol, that I cried during High School Musical 2 when Gabriella left Troy at the resort because he was being a jerk, that I knew what double dream hands were before this video blew up--all of which is patently false. But I am certain that several people have suspected me of liking the homo sex in the course of my life. It only stands to reason that dozens more have detected me with their faulty gaydar systems and I never even knew it. Of course I can only speculate as to why they may have made this preposterous error, but I would say it has to do with the following:

My Intelligence - I'm not sure how it is over in Limeyland, Transylvania and other parts of Europe, but here in the U.S. intelligence is often seen as an off-putting, undesirable trait, especially when it is the kind of intelligence that uses words most people don't understand, such as "vituperative."  People tend to not like being made to feel stupid, but that is scarcely my intent when I abjure lucid palaver, in favor of more abstruse locutions. I can't help it if people feel that way because they actually are stupid. I know I don't need anyone else to make me feel smart. These yahoos feel threatened by me in much the same way they feel threatened by the homo sex they secretly yearn for on some level, in much the same way they secretly yearn to be smart. So I see where they would make the mistake.
       
My Overwhelming Sex Appeal - People used to think Jude Law was gay until he started fucking everything that moved and had a functioning vagina. Yeah, he was gay, alright. Gay like a fox. It was just wishful thinking on the part of more homely gents.

My Impeccable Fashion Sense - Just because I look like they brought Versace back to life and he had a butt-baby with Armani, that does not mean I am the homo gay. When I say I look like that I'm speaking strictly in terms of fashion. 

My Abnormally Large Genitalia - Again, it's a fear thing. No matter how baggy my pants are you can totally tell.

       What would probably surprise a lot of you is that I am not only straighter than the equator but I am a total bad boy, to boot. I rarely follow instructions when baking brownies and when I eat my PB&J I like to leave the crust on. I had enough of that crustless bullshit in grade school and I'm over it. But then again I don't really give a fuck what you cake asses think, and anyway I gots to go. I'm taking my bitch to see the monster trucks. PEACE.