Archive for the ‘hobbies’ Category
12 things I hate about being a serial killer
The media portrays serial killing as all glitz, glamour, and bludgening. I’ll admit, it is the best job I’ve ever had, but the downsides are killers. Oh, lookie! A pun! I kill me!
And you thought a sociopath couldn’t have a sense of humor! Doesn’t it just make you want to bite your face off?
Ok, enough good natured fun. Here’s my list.
12 things I hate about being a serial-killer
1. Cheating ass maggots. Sure, they tickle my hoohoo lovingly when I’m riding a stiff corpse, but then they go and turn in to flies and fly away to find another body-closet keep them warm at night. Ungrateful fucking sluts.
2. Cheap, chinese made icepicks. I can’t tell you how many living dolls I’ve lost to inferior icepicks breaking off in the eyesocket. Well, I could tell you, but then I’d have to… you know.
3. Charity Thrift Shop Workers. Serial killing is messy work. I often have to burn my clothes to expunge evidence. Also, I like to dress up my playthings. I have to replace my wardrobe several times over each year — that can be expensive! The Goodwill and Salvation Army are big helps, and I’m glad the money I spend goes to help the community, but the people there are seriously creepy.
4. The police artist sketch makes me look fat. Also, like a man. Read the rest of this entry »
48 Hour Film Project: Throwing down the Celluloid Gauntlet
This past weekend, thousands of people around the world were pulling hair, popping pills and desperately trying to maintain focus after two days without sleep– but enough about emergency room doctors. What I’m talking about are the cognitively-challenged participants in the worldwide 48 Hour Film Project. These No-Doz™ heroes had been hard at work since Friday evening, writing, directing, scoring, titling, recording and editing short films from NOTHING and, true to the event’s name, they only had 2 days in which to finish.
Endangered Pleasures, Sex, Shit, and Yo Momma
4 more books I’d read, if I read books.
See Also: Books that exist
 |
How to Good-Bye Depression: If You Constrict Anus 100 Times Everyday. Malarkey? or Effective Way? I think constricting anus 100 times and denting navel 100 times in succession everyday is effective to good-bye depression and take back youth. You can do so at a boring meeting or in a subway. I have known 70-year-old man who has practiced it for 20 years. As a result, he has good complexion and has grown 20 years younger. His eyes sparkle. He is full of vigor, happiness and joy. He has neither complained nor born a grudge under any circumstance. Furthermore, he can make love three times in succession without drawing out. In addition, he also can have burned a strong beautiful fire within his abdomen. It can burn out the dirty stickiness of his body, release his immaterial fiber or third attention which has been confined to his stickiness. Then, he can shoot out his immaterial fiber or third attention to an object, concentrate on it and attain happy lucky feeling through the success of concentration. If you don’t know concentration which gives you peculiar pleasure, your life looks like a hell. |
 |
Endangered Pleasures: In Defense of Naps, Bacon, Martinis, Profanity, and Other Indulgences First cigars and gin topped the list. Then red meat, Cadillacs, coffee with caffeine, and sleeping late all began to edge toward extinction. Barbara Holland makes an impassioned defense of life’s little pleasures in a book that will entertain diehard sinners, comfort the secretly licentious, and encourage those who just need a little nudge to abandon jogging and no-fat salad dressing. “Perhaps it’s a good time to reconsider pleasure at its roots,” declares Holland (Secrets of the Cat), introducing this collection of entertaining, genteel meditations. As the subtitle hints, the author, living in the Virginia countryside, is no sybaritic renegade but a woman who can find happiness in antinomies like “Working” and “Not Working,” “Buying Things” and “Saving Money,” and “Going Out” and “Staying In.” She writes with conversational ease, and some observations linger: To the miserly, “a penny spent is a penny mourned”; mail is “one of life’s small recurring pleasures”; sports, “unlike life, are played according to rules.” Holland even reveals that she drives without using her seat belt. Illustrations. |
 |
A Portrait of Yo Mama as a Young Man Yo mama sucks. For years, everyone has talked about yo mama, pointing out her failings in important areas such as appearance, mental capacity, and weight. Now, two researchers and retired sewer cartographers have spent over a decade investigating yo mama, assembling a wide range of evidence against her. They stalked, photographed, and studied the horrible woman who brought you into this world—yo mama—then compiled their findings. Here is some of the evidence you will find in A PORTRAIT OF YO MAMA AS A YOUNG MAN: yo mama’s résumé, her last will and testament, her internet searches, personals she has placed, e-mails yo mama wrote to you while you were in college, and numerous charts and graphs. From this thorough and authoritative work you will learn facts such as: Yo mama says “comprised” when she means “composed,” as in, “I am comprised mostly of grease and sugar.” Yo mama’s so lupine, she chases rabbits. I had sex with yo mama and it was horrible. Just a horrible, horrible time. If nervous tics were pizzas, yo mama would have five pizzas that freak everybody out. |
How to be White Trash
It’s the sensation that’s sweeping the nation (or parts of it, at least): the stained t-shirt wearing, jacked-up car driving, devil horn throwing, zoning board defying mass-hysteria known as the White Trash Movement. Lemmy Kilmister once said of his band, Mötörhead, that, if they moved into the home next to you, your lawn would shrivel up. In this sense Mötörhead represents the counter-cultural aesthetic that defines White Trash. Much like the hippie-losers and anarchist squatters before them, members of the White Trash Nation are rejecting the values of our society-at-large. You can give the establishment the calloused, 10w-30-stained finger in these 4 easy steps:
Ration Reality Comics: Mommy, am I going to hell?
See the previous comic here!
-Bagel & Jesse
Share code: To share this picture with the world, copy the code in the box, paste it into blogs, forums, myspace, ect.
-random- -submit- -blogarama- -technorati- -del.icio.us- -digg it!-
Ration Reality Comics: Dotty’s Mom, fixed
You bitch, we listen.
The last comic we posted was a bit too hard to read for some folks, especially when sized down for sharing. We’re still learnin’ here folks.
Our awesomful artist, Jesse Custer, has resized to 700×233, and changed the font.
As to not confuse hotlinkers with the new size, we’ve left the original alone (here), and fixed up a whole spankin new post for ya.
We met Dotty briefly in our last comic. Now we see her again, and meet both her mom and her next door neighbor Rocky.
Share code: To share this picture with the world, copy the code in the box, paste it into blogs, forums, myspace, ect.
-blogarama- -technorati- -del.icio.us- -digg it!-
Interdimensional Mice from Planet Invisible!
A silly little poem that I’ve decided to retire. May it rest well.
Originally published in: Aberrant Dreams - Issue # 6, Winter 2005/2006
Interdimensional Mice from Planet Invisible!
The Metal Diaries, part 1: Fuckin’ Metallic A
Dear Diary,
When I was in eighth grade, Metallica’s “… And Justice For All” ruled my and nearly every other adolescent within spitting distance of me’s life. Girls, boys, black, white, Catholic, Jew, Zoroastrian, you name it. Kids who weren’t even real Metalheads clung to their cassette tapes like priests at the apocalypse. Our school was overtaken by the epic, crushing riffs, solos, double kick drums and wooden yelling that make Metallica, well, Metallica. I myself had merely dabbled in the Metal arts at this point. In sixth grade I discovered Metallica’s “Master of Puppets” along with every other junior hescher at PS 159 in New York City’s Bayside, Queens. This city/hood/borough was left behind for supposedly greener pastures on the strong and Long Island.
There I was introduced to Slayer, more specifically what is still one of my favorite Metal songs, “Angel of Death“. But on the reals, I hadn’t really dove in head first into the deep end of the Metal swimming pool. “… And Justice For All” was the first Metal album that I took into my heart and gut. I felt it deep down in a funny place. I digested it whole and absorbed every Metal nutrient I could find in the rich and powerful fibers of it’s being. I truly believed that this was as close to perfect as a record could get. Living in Alaska as I did at the time, the pervasive darkness, the desolate nature of things and the ever present sense of doom weighed so heavily upon me that I, at age 13, was sure I would die. “… And Justice For All” came out just as I was about to lose the fight. Waking up to the creeping, sinewy guitar lines that are the intro to “Blackened” seemed to give me the strength to continue the fight. I fought on and eventually triumphed over that frozen nightmare, a task that seemed next to impossible when I arrived wide-eyed from big, bad New York. Now I’m grown and I want to examine this record, this document, to see what it was that I saw, what inspired me to engage in open warfare with such a hostile enemy.
Ration Reality Comics: Dotty’s Mom Has Got It Goin’ On!
We met Dotty briefly in our last comic. Now we see her again, and meet both her mom and her next door neighbor Rocky.
Share code: To share this picture with the world, copy the code in the box, paste it into blogs, forums, myspace, ect.
-blogarama- -technorati- -del.icio.us- -digg it!-
Go team us!
Ok, kids. We’re the new kids on the blog block, and Go Ogle is still shitting itself over our domain change. Still, our stats show some interesting searches which have led readers to us. Here are a few for which we are the number one result:
- radiohead+ginsberg+sodomy
If you were the person who did that search, please, just tell me, WTF were you trying to find?! - Communal baths – Germany
Google summary’s placement of the ellipses makes the article far more interesting than it is. Perhaps the engine could edit for us? - share lolcats on myspace
Being number 2 is awesome. Being numbers 1 & 2 is awesomer! Being above icanhascheezburger.com makes me kinda sad. We loves cheez! - Nazism illegal in germany
It is, ya know - you’re worthless poems
Dear searcher: Did you mean “your”, or are you calling me a verse without value? Either way, really. Just curious. - “heidi montag” “swinging by her ankles”
We are the only result for this one. We got the scoop, bitches! - bad high school poetry metaphors
And there’s more where that came from, baby! - literacy critique on J.D. Salinger
Where Salinger is involved, I must say that ‘literacy’ is not the wrong word. Catcher is definitely *not* ‘literary’. - Hanuka music torrents
In Jesus we trust. All others we pirate. - my tapes, “let me show you them”
We’re actually both the top 1 and top 2! Go team us!
A new Ration Reality comic strip will be posted tomorrow. You should probably skip work and stay home, repeatedly refreshing our site, and be the first to see it.
-bagel
