Repackaged, Repurposed and....Still Funny

Here are some of the more enjoyable recent funnies from Failblog, Very Demotivational, Pictureisunrelated, oddlyspecific and engrish:

Deep inside he knew that this was the best part of his day.

Oooooo.

Actually, in Ireland you would not get arrested. Common practice.

Is it just me or do his undies look like a hamper?

It can be done.

You've been in this situation before.

Greatest day of your life.

Llamas. Of course!

That's a bad law. Only in Gaithersburg.

Just your average, everyday house....for psychos.

That's what you think. The aliens took this picture.

The part you can't see is the other golf cart on top of the second ladder.

This is not a fail. Pizza is the real hero.

Pretty accurate actually.

I always do.

The Weird Mystery of Random Friends

Mysteries.

Weird Mysteries.

They happen. Here's one: So I'm scrolling through my facebook friend's list and I start to see a bunch of random names. Then I click on the names or profile pictures to see who these strange "new" friends are. Then I see the picture. Generally it involves a wedding dress, possibly some cake being stuffed into someone's mouth, and generally under their "relationship status" it says they are married to some guy with the same last name.

My theory:

These people have some taboo predilections. Marrying someone with the same last name? I mean, I won't outright call it incest, but I'm not going to say it isn't. And why on earth are we friends? I did know someone named Talika Rosen, but I DO NOT know a Talika Fairchild. Actually, come to think of it, I do not know ANY Talika. AAAAaaah! (I never know how to write that so that it comes out as a blood-curdling scream and not a refreshing sound you make when you just pop open a cold beverage).

Here's another strange discovery. While I seem to be gaining all of these "new" friends, the number of overall friends does not increase. AND...if that weren't enough, some of my "old" friends have seemingly disappeared.

My theory:

These "new" friends are probably aliens, cyborgs, or alien cyborgs who have used some voodoo magic to tap into my facebook friends list. They are probably also body snatchers and have taken my "old" friends to some weird, sketchy, alien laboratory to harness the power of their names (and consequently their souls).

Sounds reasonable.

There are never enough tow trucks.

They love each other so much.

Probably not too hard to force that cake down.

"Random guy next to groom tries to distract him with cake while he runs off with bride"

Unemployment - The Real Story

The word of the day today is unemployed. Some of you, especially during these tricky economic times we're in, might be very familiar with this word. Some of you probably think it has something to do with you. Others of you think it has nothing to do with you, but is all Bush's fault, the bankers fault, congress's fault, Obama's fault, etc., etc. Well none of that is true. The reason you, or any one else is unemployed right now is because of aliens.

No, I'm not talking about the illegal kind that come in from Latin America, Eastern Europe, or Africa. No, REAL aliens. Like the kind that come from the planet Schorgatron-56. They are talking over. So far they have completely infiltrated the tax law industry, the dentist industry, and the American auto industry. And, for over a century now they have been sucking out the brains of our legislative, executive, and judiciary branches of government in the US. 

Why do they do it? Well, doing human jobs is apparently a better time than abducting and probing drunk farmers. And they do it for the same reason you go to Cancun and get wasted. Or go to the beach and have a bonfire and make aborigine chants late at night. It's a cheap thrill. Yes, that's right. Aliens like to have a good time. And, that puts them in good company. In fact, some famous crazy party animals out there who you thought were human are/were actually aliens. Lindsay Lohan - alien. John Belushi - alien. Kevin Bacon - alien. Paris Hilton - three aliens. Nicole Richie - an embryo of an alien.

So what should we do? Nothing. Just let them finish up here and they'll leave. Your boss will be begging for you to come back in no time.

Awkward Family Photos and Alien Cats

I stumbled across this site and find it more than just mildly entertaining. It is called Awkward Family Photos.com. It's really phenomenally weird and eery, but hilarious at the same time (Sounds like all the things you ever wanted and more right?) Here are some of the photos, and one of the latest from failblog.org:

The finger.

Sporting their pet rabbit and parrot. Why not?

Freakiest birthday cake picture ever taken.

Joe Dirt's family.

Just me and a tiger in some local mall.

Do not get pictures taken at Nina's: Check.

I think I'm going to start "reporting the news" with weird random photos. And, but "reporting the news" I mean making up bald-faced lies that are hysterical, yet poignant and revealing. An example might be the following picture with the caption "Owner discovers pet cat to be alien after giving it a bath":

Bob Rothbart was a simple man, like so many are in this country. But, he had a gentle heart. On March 5, 2004 he saw a little stray kitten eating grass on his lawn. His wife was wary of strays, and said she was allergic, but Bob took the little cat in. His wife Cindy had this to say on March 16, 2009:

"I don't know what he was thinking. That animal was ugly looking. When I saw it for the first time I thought it was a rabid squirrel that had a strange tumor on its face. Bob was so trusting."

Bob named him Lucky. The little kitten Lucky grew and lived like a normal cat for years. However, Bob never did take his little fur ball in to the vet. He didn't know how ironic the name 'Lucky' would turn out to be. On March 17, 2009, Bob was let in on the secret. 

While washing his 1994 Dodge Caravan, Bob sprayed Lucky a little bit. When he realized Lucky enjoyed being sprayed, he took him inside for a bath. That was when he found out. But it was too late. Only seconds after the cat was soaked did Bob recognize the creature before him. His cat was an alien. Not only that, but little gremlins started popping out of its fur. Several of them immediately scampered down the main hall way in his house and promptly sucked out his wife's brains. Bob ran to get his gun and shot Lucky, but was mobbed by the gremlins while making his escape for help. His leg was severed and he received 70 stitches on his shoulder, but Bob made it out.

The neighborhood he lives in was put on quarantine for 7 months by the federal government. Bob lives in an undisclosed location under the witness protection program. 

"If there was one thing I could share with people out there from this experience - don't pick up strays, and listen to your wife. I sure wish I did," said Bob.

Give Feet a Chance.

There are many things in life that are maligned, marginalized, disrespected, and of ill repute. Sometimes the object of our disgust is well deserving. Other times it is not. For instance: No one really admires garbage. As nice as it can be to throw, dump, stomp on, and crush, garbage is just not that admirable. We even use it as a put down, like "that idea is garbage." But our marginalization and perhaps even detestation of garbage is not at issue here. There will most likely not be any garbage activists, or garbage rights movements. However, there are other things that are unfairly treated, that perhaps shouldn't be.

One such example is that of the human foot, or feet. We often might tell someone they smell like feet, look like feet, or even have the temperament of feet. But is that really so bad? Sure there are plenty of unattractive hobbit-like feet out there, but what about all the nice feet? I mean, just because Bonds, Clemens, A-Rod, McGuire, and Sosa are all steroid users doesn't mean the whole league is. Give feet a chance! Feet we can! 

Feet are important. If you don't have them, you know what I'm talking about. Walking without feet is tricky at best. They provide use with balance, from the heels to the pinky toe. If you think I'm making this stuff up, lop off your pinky toe and try to pass a sobriety test. If you some how manage, then try playing a game of basketball, or try to win a dance off.

(Hobbit feet, some people like them)

Many also believe feet are just not that aesthetically pleasing. Oh please. I mean, the feet may not be the first thing you look for in a potential spouse, but if they are ogre-ish or missing, you might think twice about asking someone out. Men generally like daintier feet, with nice arches and smaller toes in even proportion (however, foot binding is not recommended. I don't care how effective it is). Women tend to like strong feet, perhaps tan, and not ridiculously hairy (although some women do end up marrying or at least dating hobbits). However, there are drawbacks to being a foot person. On the one side, sure, it makes it seem like your not as focused on the more obvious areas, but on the other side, people might think you are weird and have a fetish. So, play it safe. There are simple innocuous ways to check out people's feet.

The most obvious method is asking them to swim at the pool, or go to the beach. (If they are still wearing shoes on the beach or in the pool, they probably have weird feet, and are possibly aliens). 

(You can even use feet in orange juice ads)

Another way to check out their feet is to offer them a foot massage (however, this can be tricky, because once you've offered to do it you will look really bad if you see their feet and then refuse). So, if you do try the massage method, you have to go all the way (If you end up massaging a hobbit, ogre, dwarf, or alien, remember to wash your hands with strong disinfectant, or bleach). 

Another way may seem obvious. Watch a movie on the couch together and curl up with a couple blankets, and if they keep their shoes on get upset and pretend like they're ruining the upholstery. This method also has a big drawback (If their feet stink, you have now forced yourself to a couple hours of misery).

(This diagram shows you how to effectively kill a feet. Go for the kidneys!)

So there you have it. For those of you who still hate feet, and would prefer not to have yours, I can relate a little bit, but I also think you're being unrealistic and stupid. If you want nicer feet, plastic foot surgery is an option (and I know a guy). He can give you Audrey Hepburn's feet, or John Wayne's (however if he screws up they might just look like starfish or mutant salamanders. And, for the record, Audrey's feet weren't that great.

The Tonsils, Appendix, and Wisdom Teeth Conspiracy

I am a proud owner of both a set of tonsils, and one appendix. Unfortunately "they" took my wisdom teeth. This in part explains why my IQ has dropped from when I was a child. However, I am sure to be an anomaly. Many people have no tonsils, no appendices, and no wisdom teeth. And, given that the appendix is an organ that used to help us fly, and tonsils are remnants of a second set of teeth like in the Alien movies, and wisdom teeth used to activate previously unknown parts of the human brain, "they" are winning. 

But who are "they"? Some might have us believe that "they" are a clan of ninjas. Others might have us believe that "they" are black market organ/body part cartels. And still others might like us to think that "they" are the government. I'm inclined to think that's what "they" want us to think. The truth is probably much darker. Perhaps they are a black market ninja cartel that traffics useless organs and body parts and is propped up by the government. Which government you ask? Does it matter? Well, possibly. And it's probably the Venezuelans, ie: Chavez.

You might be asking yourself, "Why do I care about wisdom teeth, appendices, and tonsils?" Or perhaps you think that your doctor just took them out to save your life, all the while making an easy grand off your teeth, appendix or tonsils, making you dumber, less likely to ever fly on your own, and preventing you from taking over planet earth as an alien. Well I hate to say it, but it matters, and this issue is more pressing than you know.

I will cite some examples. My room mate had his appendix removed the first day of this semester. Then a friend of his thought she had to have her appendix removed too. It was like a virus. When I had my wisdom teeth removed my freshman year of college before I went to Brazil, the dentist said only one could have possibly caused trouble for me, but he took three. Then all of my other friends got their wisdom teeth out about the same time, with similar stories. Of course the dentist's cover is that he just wanted more money, which is true, but the dentists are making even more money on top of the money they charge per tooth. And who pays that money to them? "They". 

And, when the dentist said one of my wisdom teeth could have caused trouble, what did he mean? Was it trouble for me? Or trouble for "they"? You see, if I had kept my wisdom teeth I could probably have found out the master plan of "they". But "they" got to me first. Just like they got to my room mate, and to anyone else who gets their appendix removed. Did "they" think that we would mobilize an army of flying genius aliens and monopolize all the Citgo stations? Maybe. Maybe. 

At any rate, we're onto you Chavez.

BYU taken over by muppets

I had to post this. It's an email I just got from BYU:

You have an important new message in your BYU Financial Center. You can navigate to the Financial Center as follows - BYU Home Page > RouteY > School > My Financial Center. PLEASE DO NOT RESPOND TO THIS EMAIL MESSAGE, as it will not be seen nor read by a human. If you have questions or concerns, please send a message through your "Message Center" in "My Financial Center".

Apparently, if I respond to the email "it will not be seen nor read by a human." Well then, who might be reading it? Monkeys? Aliens? Transformers? Who am I really paying tuition to BYU? Has the entire University been taken over by muppets (again)?

Well, maybe that's an upgrade.

Provo I bid thee farewell!

Provo I bid you farewell. Just like the Russians bid farewell to Rasputin. I bid you farewell like miners bid farewell to a decrepit mineshaft. I bid you farewell like a viking funeral. 

But, at the same time, I bid you goodbye like Murray does to the tech support lady on Flight of the Conchords season one: Leggy Blonde. And, in place of you I will party. Perhaps even becoming the Prince of Parties, as can be seen in the acid-tripping episode of Flight of the Conchords.

There will be much food and merriment. Turkeys will abound. White meat, dark meat, and gravy. Grrrraaaaaavvvvvvyy. There will be sumptuous pies, soups, breads, cranberry sauce, and stuffing. Lounging around will become my new and most favorite Olympic sport in which all I can win is the gold. Why? Why must I be so good at it? Golden turkey....Mmmmm.

But, sacrifices must be made. To get out of this place I have to take a plane. That flight leaves at 6am. So, I have to leave the house tomorrow at 4:30am. Seeing as I hit the snooze at least three times every morning when it goes off at 7:30am, it should be interesting. Worst case scenario: If I miss it I will have to eat turkey at some place other than my grandparent's house in California. Probably not the worst thing. The REAL worst case scenario: Sigourney Weaver wakes me up from my bed and tells me I have an alien inside of me. Only seconds later it pops out of my chest and eats all the turkey (One more reason to be anti-alien).

Goodbye Provo! I only wish it were a longer goodbye.