I suppose on some level, this was inevitable:
Spain has introduced the world to Bebé Glotón (Gluttonous Baby), the, um, world’s first breastfeeding doll. Sold in Europe for 44 Euros (about $63 here), it’s priced at almost double that amount on eBay, and that got me wondering… would Americans be willing to pay so much for such a product? Who better to check in with than some Texans (because everything’s bigger there and we’ve been repeatedly told not to mess with them):
Hrm… that was fairly balanced and forthright. But I like my stirring pot a bit meatier, so take it away Fox News (and very low-cut bloused, healthily-bosomed lady right there at the 0:04 mark… her genius is further exposed at the 1:54 mark):
YES! Feel the uproariousness amidst the silliness! I’ve already been “outraged” by stripper shoes for babies! What’s next? Umbilical cord piercings? Toddler thongs?! (Can I even type these things?)
If I’m gone tomorrow, know that I couldn’t type those things. Or I started an umbilical cord piercing business…
Okay, I hate to have to subject y’all to another Happy Find so fast, but this is truly a sooper-dooper-mega-wega-Happy-Wappy-Find, um, -Mind…
That having been said, allow me to introduce to a collection of the most annoying ‘rents in the world on… drum roll please… you can’t?… okay, never mind…
(For those of you uninitiated, and most likely it’s the parents that end up on the site, STFU = Shut The Fuck Up, thus adding it to my list of fucking Happy Finds.)
With that, I bid you adieu!
I knew that someday the decision (or should I say gamble?) to build this park…
…would one day lead to a synergistic nightmare like this…
Disney’s television productions might not be the most soul-enriching shows in the world, but I never thought I’d see the day that the MGM Grand Casino in Detroit would use such a similar logo to promote a gambling contest. I mean, kids that still watch The Suite Life of Zack and Cody shouldn’t be cross-marketed to in this fashion. They are nowhere near old enough to be spending that kind of dough in an adult establishment on their allowances. I’m not saying I’m against kids partaking in poker, roulette, or craps, but– wait, huh?
They did what? Disney and MGM are no longer partnered together at the park, and they’ve got a new name?
So, yeah… never mind this InASense, Lost. Let’s chalk it up to a Coinkydink (coincidence) or a Coinkydonk (on purpose), because sometimes you never know what kind of gambles executives are willing to make.
This was one messed up dream, and it requires a bit of back story. I don’t know if the back story occurred in the dream, or if my subconscious naturally knew it, but here we go:
Apropos of nothing, including Star Wars, Leno, Letterman, Conan, Kimmel, and Fallon, everyone’s favorite token Mon Calamarian, Admiral Ackbar, hosted the highest-rated late night show in America (think Krusty the Clown). He was on top of the world, until one night when a prank went bad.
Apparently, a woman was invited on stage for a skit that involved ham, bacon, and other various pork products, such as, um, pork. She was eight months pregnant, and against the producers wishes, Ackbar went ahead with the bit. Something about the segment startled her and caused her water to break. Live. On national TV.
This lead to him getting banned from everything and everywhere, and he eventually went into the witness protection program when threats on his life seemed credible. Now back to the present day… dream.
While living under his new identity, he eventually started butting heads with his handlers. Unable to blend in, he put on an elaborate show which exposed his location. Soon enough, the credible threat found him. It ended up being a mechanical pig that looked a bit like this:
The roboswine wasn’t the only surprise…
All along, the reason the government thought Ackbar’s life was in danger was incorrect. They believed it was because the public was outraged that he caused his audience member to go into early labor. The real reason? The pigdroid was upset about the wasted pork products, bitter of the fact that he no longer consisted of pork products.
And the meatless metal meanie never intended to kill Ackbar – he only wanted an apology. The consummate host obliged and soon was back on top of the world.
INGREDIENTS: A late night helping of regular Oreo’s and a glass of chocolate milk.
I never got into either MySpace or Facebook. The trendiness didn’t appeal to me (and for the record, I was into Twitter before the huge Twitstorm hit… luckily, it’s subsiding).
So it wouldn’t and shouldn’t take a rocket scientist to create a comparably named forum to mock the uncouth denizens of , and it didn’t (as far as I know).
Introducing (unless you’ve already met) Lamebook, where the h8rs can h8t freely, without having a Facebook account, courtesy of h8rs that have Facebook accounts.
This is a mere sampling of a sampling. I don’t know whether I dodged a bullet, or I’m missing the gunfight, but for now, I’ll stick to Lamebook (even though it’s one of the rare websites I happily found that doesn’t have the word “fuck” in the title).
You may or may not have taken the “Awareness Test” before, but I couldn’t suggest it more. It was put together by this country’s forefathers’ forefathers’ (and foremothers’) decendents, over yonder, across the pond. (I’m talkin’ ’bout the Brits, you idiot!)
Anywhosyerforedaddy, I failed the test. Terribly. See how well you fare: