Blozor

Finding ridiculous people on AdultSpace might be easy, but being able to capture their pictures is far more difficult. Half the profiles are private, and half of the ones that aren't don't have any useful pictures posted, to include the icon pic that compelled me to select their profile in the first place. Even despite that, by spending the last week casually browsing the search page for people who looked like total losers, I was still able to find two Sundays worth of disgusting swingers and perverts, even after excluding any obvious stolen porn images and gnarly genital close-ups. Here is the first half.

When resorting to the Internet to find sex partners, it's paramount that you make sure you do the absolute best with what you have.




This dude's profession is most likely fetching abnormal brains for mad scientists.


If H. R. Giger was asked to draw up a woman, this would be the most likely outcome.


This is the type of guy you'd expect to see answering the door to the Addams Family's house.


ADULTSPACE!!


Some people seem to think that looking like serial killers is somehow sexy. Here are two prime examples. First, we have the brilliant and cunning, Hannibal Lecter type of serial killer.


Then there' the drugged-up, batshit insane, Charles Manson type.


This guy looks like that meth-head that was killing old people throughout Missouri and Illinois recently.


This is this one guy's picture...


This is the picture of his woman from the same set...

Is this dude doing his daughter? You tell me.

This looks like the guy Michael Douglas would pay to fuck ugly chicks for him.


This chick is sitting on a powderkeg. The look in his eyes tells me the first time he comes home and dinner is not on the table, she's going to be spending the night in the intensive care unit.

Finding out you have a secret blog stalker is usually pretty rad. Finding out it's the President of the United States raises the awesomeness score exponentially. Several months and a year ago, I wrote this post. Just a few days ago, minus the year, our BELOVED LEADER, George W. Bush, sent this proposal to Congress. This could just be an amazing coincidence, considering that George W. Bush routinely gets his policy ideas from God via a monkey on crack, but I prefer to believe that I am just that awesome. As much as I would like to say that I hate being right, being right is pretty cool, so there.

You'd think that with Bush's uncompromising stance on not only the right to life, but the right to life that hasn't even been conceived yet, that he'd have enough kids to form a cult in Texas. You'd think he'd be nailing a hole in Laura's back every chance he got just to not waste a precious drop of seminal fluid or a single unfertilized egg in her body. Maybe he just doesn't like her all that much. Maybe that's why she has to plaster on that extremely forced grin every time she's seen in public with him.

I'm wondering just how far he would like to see the birth control issue pushed. If he's already considering certain forms of contraception as likened to abortion, how long before it's all forms of contraception? Let's follow this slippery slope out to its logical conclusion. Abstinence is the ultimate form of abortion. How long before we start putting women on trial after suffering a miscarriage? Ladies, you'd better enjoy menstruation while it's still legal, before we send you away from the villiage and burn all your clothes and bedding.

Oh, that's absurd and unfair? Well, two can play the slippery slope game, Bill O'Reilly. If gay marriage will certainly lead to legal public bestiality, then a ban on birth control can lead to prohibited menstruation and sinful abstinence. It's apparent that Bush not only has a disdain for abortion but a contempt for any form of family planning at all. Since 2001, the Bush has denied all funding for family planning to the United Nations Population Fund. Domestically, the United States has seen more babies born last year than any other year in the nation's history. Apparently whatever Bush thinks these family planning organizations are doing to keep people from having too many children in the face of a total economic breakdown, it's not working. One of the conditions of the Bush family's dream of a New World Order is a ninety percent reduction of the world's population, so I really don't see what difference it makes to start now or later, just to preserve George W. Bush's Messianic delusions of morality.

Check out where this took place. I think we've found Dr. House.

"The doctor denies the accusation, claims patient is 'being an idiot.'"

Man cuts his own head off with a chainsaw.

Killing Joke is going to play in Chicago on October 14th. I'm excited.

The only Killing Joke fan I know in this area is me. I'm upset.

* * * * * * * * * * * *
This is probably my favorite video from them. It's full of all the flashy symbolism that people confuse for true patriotism while expounding on all of America's faults.


Sorry, Democracy is changing.


It's a global abrasion! It's consecration! United Nations — it's a Total Invasion!


Money is not our god.


I'll be singing into the Millennium with you.


Finally, what is a revolution without a little Pandemonium?

When a friend told me that MySpace now has a copycat version for adults, my reaction was naturally to rub my hands together saying, "Yeeesssssssss..." If there's one indisputable fact about the Internet, it's that anything on the Internet that has to do with sex is going to be populated by idiots.

Unfortunately, a lot of the profiles that looked the most promising were set to private, and there was no way in all of Hell I was going to join such a disgusting assortment of freaks, perverts, and morons just so I could gather a few more screencaps and view a few more naked pictures of hideously grotesque swingers. It would be like willingly allowing yourself to become one with The Blob, only The Blob in this analogy would be made out of cum, and full of deformities looking to sodomize you.

Here's a novel idea: you could fuck him.


Take it from me; in the world of publishing, being able to click the "submit" button is not that impressive of an accomplishment.


Here I thought you were going to say "i'm a real horny person and i love shoppin for cars!"


Oh you poor thing; I don't think you realize this isn't the type of dating site where normal people hook up.


Notice the "books" section is mysteriously lacking.


How about a guy who will show you a picture of his cock? No? Well how about a different guy who will also show you a picture of his cock?


You should probably see a psychiatrist about that.


Isn't that prejudice just a little hypocritical?


If you must say so yourself, there's usually a reason for it.


It's pretty much like being with your guy, only with a lot less emotion and probably a lot more grief.


Oh Christ. They're forming a hierarchy.


I'm happy to see our tax dollars put to good use.


Congratulations. You've discovered the ability to inflict actual physical harm to others over the Internet.

Quite possibly the strangest thing I've seen on YouTube yet, and I've seen some strange things on YouTube. Industrial anarchist punk metal put to Felix the Cat videos. Seriously. It's kind of unsettling, like watching Barry White's voice come out of Emmy Rossum's mouth.

The user who submitted this first video disabled embedding because they're a loser, so you'll have to click on the image to be transported to the YouTube website in order to view it.


Watching the bear dance to Killing Joke at the 4:50 mark is the source of nightmares.

For $100 you could have named this family's unborn baby. What would you have named it?

— Clumpy

— Festus

— Nimrod

— Incest

— Osama

— Dicknipples

— Seven Point Three Eight One Four Nine

— Dogslut

— Prell Turbotax

— Classmates-dot-com

— Ass Orgy

— Chuck

— Freedom Fries

— Kittentits

— Queefer

— Dorkas

— George W. Bush

— ə

— Slippy

— Fister

— Oopsie

— Trampstamp

— Haliburton Oil

This song was originally written by Paul O'Neill for the heavy metal band Savatage about Sarajevo in 1995. However, it feels just as applicable to the citizens terrorized every day in Iraq, caught in the crossfire between a colossal blunder of foreign policy and the militant insurgents taking advantage of it.

We dared to ask for more
But that was long before
The nights began to burn
You would have thought we'd learned
You can't make promises
All based upon tomorrow
Happiness, security
Are words we only borrowed

For is this the answer to our prayers?
Is this what God has sent?
Please understand this isn't what we meant

The future couldn't last
We nailed it to the past
With every word a trap
That no one can take back
From all the architects
Who find their towers leaning
And every prayer we pray at night
Has somehow lost its meaning

For is this the answer to our prayers?
Is this what God has sent?
Please understand this isn't what we meant

A long time ago when the world was pretty
Standing right here in a different city
I'm not coming back anymore
Not coming back anymore

Is this the answer to our prayers?
Is this what God has sent?
Please understand this isn't what we meant

Apparently crystal meth is a big drug in Montana because Montana has adopted an aggressive advertising campaign warning against the dangers of crystal meth on billboards, in magazines, and on television.





So it goes without saying that crystal meth is a bad fucking drug that makes you lose your teeth, look like a mummified corpse, and pinpoint precisely the absolutely most irrational decision you could possibly choose in any situation. Knowing all the dangers involved with the drug, it's safe to say that anybody who chooses to use crystal meth is automatically a failure at life. I don't care what the supposed benefits are. If the cons far outweigh the pros and you still decide to do it, you have made a bad decision, end of story.

On the upside, these ads are also rife for parody, and despite the lack of gritty, greasy, American Eagle overwash, the parodies are possibly even more effective anti-meth ads than the actual ads.

Mountain Dew has three new flavors out, a raspberry mix called "Voltage," a berry mix called "Revolution," and a strawberry mix called "Supernova." Apparently you're supposed to log in to their website and vote for which flavor you want to enjoy past the limited trial period.

I've sampled each flavor. Voltage and Revolution both taste like either blue Kool-Aid or an Icee, and they're nearly totally identical to each other in color and flavor. The strawberry flavor, Supernova, on the other hand, tastes like flaming death in a bottle. It tastes like Centrum vitamins in liquid form. It tastes like a hundred putrid energy drinks. The one thing it does not taste like is anything good.

I know that, unlike myself who isn't invested enough to care, many people will log in to the website to vote for their favorite flavor. I implore to the tens, maybe hundreds of people who will undoubtedly fall for this insane marketing gimmick only one favor. Vote for a blue flavor. It doesn't matter which blue flavor because they're pretty much identical. Whatever you do, don't vote for the strawberry flavor.

I swear to God, if you vote for the strawberry flavor, I am going to revoke your voting privileges in November because if you can't vote for a soft drink that doesn't taste like rat poison, you shouldn't be determining the fate of the free world either.

I got this in the mail the other day, but since I almost never pay attention to anything that arrives by standard mail, I just got around to actually reading it yesterday. It makes me wonder just how low of an IQ is required before they allow someone to start writing governing policies for Bank of America.

Dear Xxxxxxx X. Xxxxxxxx,

Your recent request to remove Xxx X. Xxxxxxxx from the above-referenced account was processed on April 11, 2008.

Authorized users are not responsible for repayment of the account balance. For your protection, please destroy all credit cards and cash advance checks issued to this person, because you are responsible for all charges to the account.

Any further use by Xxx X. Xxxxxxxx will be considered authorized by you. If you believe that this person might continue to use this account, please contact us at the number below so we can close the account and open a new one for you.

Sincerely,

Gmmel Ola [No, seriously.]

Customer Satisfaction department

If I ask you to remove someone as an authorized user of an account, wouldn't that make any further transactions expressly not authorized by me? Wouldn't that make any further use of the account by that person fraudulent? Is it seriously company policy for a lending agency to enable credit fraud?

If I want someone removed as an authorized user of an account, it means I no longer authorize them to use the account. That's the only possible thing it could mean. This creditor would rather continue lending money to a person no longer authorized to use an account than actually take any measures to prevent it, and people wonder why there is a staggering credit debt problem in the country right now. I mean, I know it boils down to fiscal irresponsibility, but perhaps the borrowers aren't the only group being entirely irresponsible here.

If this wasn't an account that was already closed and my ex wasn't entirely trustworthy, I would be calling this bank up with a very inrsistent what-the-fuck. Is it just Bank of America that has this lunacy as a policy, or do other creditors also not understand the only possible thing that removing an authorized user could possibly mean?

Over the past decade and a half, the Internet has provided fertile breeding ground for the most vile and reprehensible aspects of humanity's dark nature, but in that time nothing more wretched has sprung forth from the murky depths of Cyberspace than the concept of the vlog.

When I first came across the earliest incarnations of blogs, way back when dinosaurs roamed the earth and practically the sole source of Internet access was America Online which provided AOL Hometown pages, I read stupid teenagers writing in alternating caps against contrasting backgrounds in shades of retina-melting pink about their boring teenager lives and people no one gave two fucks about, and I thought blogs were the most idiotic things ever. Thankfully over the years blogs evolved into outlets with the capacity for brilliant, entertaining, and thought-provoking writing as well as stupid teenagers writing about their boring teenager lives.

Well, never one to rest on its laurels, the Internet had to one-up itself by combining the idea of low quality streaming video with the idea of blogs so now you could see the stupid teenagers rambling on about their boring teenager lives. The problem I have with vlogs is that none of them are entertaining. Granted, these are still in their formative years, much like when blogs first started, and already we're seeing professional entertainers create professionally scripted videos, but for the most part everybody who creates vlogs are at best boring and at worst annoying, and they should all stop cluttering up my YouTube search results for 80s music videos and cartoon clips.

The types of people who create vlogs can be broken down into three distinct categories. The first is the total camera hams who believe that "great acting ability" consists of contorting their faces like Jim Carrey having a stroke while on crack and gushing like melodramatic spazzes. The second is the people who have nothing to say but will drone on about it for fifteen minutes anyway, punctuating their long, silent, brain-racking pauses with such brilliant observations as "Um" and "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh........." The third, and probably worst of all, is any combination of the first two, where the people have absolutely nothing to say, but say it in the most spastic, flashy way possible, contorting their faces in impossible configurations while they thoughtfully reflect on "Hmmmmmmmmmm........"

So today, I'm going to take out my vehement, Gestapo-like hatred on all things vlog by disproving that age-old Internet addage that it's easier to be an asshole to words than to people. Keep in mind that these are by far not even the worst that the vlogging community has to offer us. I don't have the time or the psychological resolve to invest in researching these like the writers at SomethingAwful do. I just typed "vlog" into the search engine and picked the first ten distinctly lame videos that came up in the search results.

I like how fifteen seconds into it her dog is like, "AW FUCK THIS SHIT!!"


I keep hoping someone empowers her to drop her laptop into the bathtub.


Right now, every one of us envies her cat's ability to cause her physical harm.


Being naked is the last reason she should worry about her family and coworkers seeing this video.


This is what Betty Boop would look like in real life.


If her future husband were ever arraigned for her gruesome murder, this video would be his ticket to freedom.


My top five favorite things ever are all this girl shutting the fuck up.


If Dave Coulier's dad fucked David Arquette's mom, the resulting offspring wouldn't be funny either.


It's okay to have nothing to say as long as you're naked and cute while saying it.


When the best video you can create is while you're sick, it's safe to say your only life's purpose is to stand as a warning against huffing spray paint.

I wrote this when I was in my teens. Despite the overall lack of repetition and cursing, I had George Carlin's voice in my head while writing this monologue. It's one of several of a short-lived series I was writing around the same time, several of which have already been reprinted here over the years. I'm posting it now in honor of its inspiration's untimely passing.

When I was growing up, my house had what is known as a man's bathroom.
This is a bathroom owned and operated by men.
They are generally kept in the basement.
Actually, it wasn't a room, per se.
It was just a toilet and a shower, protected by a shower curtain, missing three rings.
There was also a wash basin, for shaving.
Because, if you think about it, that's all men really need.
All a man needs to do to go anywhere is shit, shower, and shave.

The typical man's bathroom exemplifies the difference between the genders.
Women's bathroom's are generally white or pink, or maybe light blue.
Most of the time, they're clean.
These are where you send your visitors, because they're presentable.
A man's bathroom is black, and generally squishy to the feel.
This is because of mildew.
A man would rather invite little, black parasites to fester on their walls than actaully clean anything.

For the first time since probably Johnny Cash, a celebrity has died and I actually kind of felt a pang of grief.

When you need an easy forum to ridicule at the last minute, Yahoo!Answers always delivers.

Nothing like being flabby and unhealthy as well as ugly. Chicks dig that.


Open wide for your hot train injection.


Let's see, it would have to be anything contagious or debilitating, so HIV, syphilis, hepatitis, gonorrhea, clamydia, herpes, scabies, homosexuality, intelligence, free will, and dissent.


Did he have his penis in your butt while all this was going on?


Seriously, guys, I need to know if I've got the right dealer.


I mean, Planned Parenthood would give me a free HIV test, but I figure fuck it; why leave the house?


"Honey, I took an informal poll, and it turns out you really do just not know what the hell you're doing."


Maybe your mouths are saying "yes" but your bodies are screaming, "No! Rape!"


I'm no physician, but I'm guessing that if your blood vessels are full of poop and babies, your body is pretty much fucked.


Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more.


Somehow I think she'll find a way to manage with her condition in spite of your abandonment.


I mean, I've tried to read the instruction manual, but that thing's like 230 pages and it's translated from Japanese.


With practice, anything is possible. You should definitely keep right on trying.

I'll admit that I haven't seen an M. Night Shyamalan movie since The Sixth Sense and Unbreakable, long before anyone really knew or cared who M. Night Shyamalan was or how to pronounce his name. After sampling his latest creation, I'm starting to think that maybe he's losing his touch. The Happening was the stupidest movie I've ever seen that wasn't intended to be stupid.

To call The Happening boring would be doing a grave disservice to One Hour Photo. To call The Happening pointless would be doing a grave disservice to Lost In Translation. There's not even a plot twist. It's just rampant environmentalist propoganda so profoundly absurd one has to wonder if it was actually intended as an insult to environmentalism.

I know that revealing key plot points to M. Night Shyamalan movies is a heinous taboo punishable by social ostracism, but I'm going to do it anyway because Shyamalan himself ruins the surprise twist ending within the first half hour of the movie leaving us to wander in apathetic boredom until it ends. It's kind of like when you watched Full Metal Jacket past the climactic suicide scene for the first time and realized there's another full hour of plot resolution to sit through, and then you never watch that half of the movie again. If you want to know what is making people stab themselves in the neck and walk off skyscrapers, it's trees. Trees are responsible for this "happening."

This movie fails on so many levels. Not only does it fail to entertain, but it also fails to convey the philosophical implications that I'm assuming Shyamalan was trying to communicate. It does convey philosophical implications when one starts dissecting the undertones of the movie's messages, but none of them make me care about the environment. In fact, they do the opposite — they make me care that much less about the environment because the only thing stupider than the environment is apparently the celebrities trying to educate us about it.

The movie tells us that plants are sentient and they communicate with each other and they are trying to kill us because they are scared of us. Okay, plants don't think. They don't have brains. They are not sentient. They don't communicate with each other, and they are not going to fight back against us. They do not care about the threat human beings impose on them; human beings care about the threat they impose upon plants because it's called guilt, and this movie thrives on it like a hippie on pot. If these sentient plants weren't all complete idiots, they'd realize that there are far greater threats to their existence than people, and they'd do something to fight back against nature. Seriously, right now one half of the country is on fire and the other half is under water. Maybe the plants should spend less time worrying about people and more time telling Mother Nature to get her shit straight.

If plants are sentient, thinking, and feeling organisms now, I can't help but wonder what the coalition of shortsighted nature lovers behind this film really expect us to eat. We can't eat animals because they live and think and feel, and now they're telling us that plants also live and think and feel. If we decided to start eating rocks, it would probably only be another twenty years before we had a movie about self-aware rocks attacking people in the interest of self-preservation. If we decided to start eating plastic, it probably wouldn't be much longer before a growing movement insisted that plastic comes from nature and can feel pain. While M. Night Shyamalan just ripped everything that has to do with plant life from the vegetarian diet, I think I'll stick with my eating meat and not giving a shit about what it came from so long as it wasn't anybody I know personally.

Probably the most startling of Shyamalan's misguided revelations in this movie is his assertion that all human beings are inherently suicidal. In the movie, the trees combat humanity by releasing a toxin into the air that shuts down the chemical transmitters to the section of the brain that governs our self-preservation instincts. I think there's a huge gap between not caring about death and actively seeking it out, but apparently in Shyamalan's mind the default setting for every single human being is to crave the undoing of their miserable existence, and the only thing stopping us is our survival instinct.

If anything, this mental obstruction would do nothing more than make people more prone to take unnecessary risks without concern for the consequences, but people who normally don't take great risks and otherwise enjoy life would be safe from its effects. However, instead of suddenly jumping off a building for the thrill of it or driving like a maniac because they just stop caring, as soon as they are affected in this movie, perfectly normal and well-adjusted people are prone to pick up a handgun and shoot themselves in the head for no apparent reason or turn on a riding lawnmower, lay down, and wait for it to roll over them. The sheer thoughtlessness and senselessness that went into the death scenes made them absolutely as pointless as they were graphic, almost as if the only reason they were included was the ability to boast Shyamalan's first R-rated movie.

This movie's one saving grace — the only good thing about the movie — was that it gave me a chance to stare at Zooey Deschanel's face for an hour and a half, and that in itself is a good reason to see any movie. In fact, I'm strongly considering locking her into a slot on the list of actresses I find attractive, which would bring the list to a grand total of two. Of all the portrayals in the movie, hers was the most convincing. The minute visual nuance of her character's particular neurosis was expressed brilliantly through facial movements and body language. Mark Wahlberg's performance, however, ranked somewhere between the "aw shucks" nice guy portrayals of the Fifties and completely robotic. Plus, is it just me, or is Mark Wahlberg starting to look like a cross between William H. Macy and a serial rapist?

Aside from Zooey Deschanel having big, blue eyes and knowing how to use them, the movie had very few entertaining moments, one of which consisted of someone in the theater farting louder than the movie. If Deschanel didn't know how to act, the movie would be a complete waste of effort because perhaps the most important level on which this movie failed was in getting her naked. To say Shyamalan phoned this movie in would be giving him the benefit of the doubt. It's more like he texted it in. The messages he conveyed in the movie were not the messages I think he intended, and the messages I think he inteded were stupid anyway.

The only way to make this movie anywhere near worthwhile would be to gather a large group of your friends and upon leaving the theater, get them all to stand perfectly still and listlessly repeat remarks like, "The carrots are landing" or "Our epithet is ubiquitous," just to see if you can unnerve any of the people getting out of the movie.

I'm glad my newest admitted reader MrsMelvin pointed out Confessions.net in one of her Blog posts. No matter how guilty you're feeling over something you've done, you can just read the tens of thousands of anonymous confessions posted here and realize how lucky you are that you are not among the world's most ignorant perverts.

I got on one knee and figured while I was down there, what the hell.


Your reputation as what? A straight chick?


Confessions.net is not God.


I've got some bad news for you, and I don't even need to do an MRI to confirm it.


Only sick freaks have relationships.


Five years is such a huge gap to fill. When you were into Nirvana, he was getting into Foo Fighters. It'd never work.


You know how people encourage you to confess your perversions and no one is going to judge you? That is before you admitted you like fangled feet.


You can't escape Internet porn. Computers send it to you for free in your email. It comes up in Google search results for saddle shoes. You can either accept it for the absurd depravity that it is, or you can go insane trying to avoid it.


Yep, under "cheating" in the dictionary there'll be a picture of you spread eagle with a sign that reads, "Come on in!"


I always figured it was pretty cut-and-dry.


I don't know what that is, but it looks like it would hurt.


Threesome. It's life's little problem solver.


Nothing to worry about, then.


I think you've misunderstood the purpose of church camp.


Nah, you just got caught up in the spirit of Alabama and screwed the nearest sibling you could find.

Whoops, forgot what I was doing this week.

Here's an outtake from last month's Video Dump. While I was searching for piano versions of rock songs, I came across this. This is hilarious. The kid goes through the entire first half the video convincing us that it's really him playing, and it's not coming through a radio at all, and then when he actually does play he SUCKS OUTRIGHT.


The real Human Tetris.


Four words: Uh-uh-uh-oh.


Meep. Meep. Meepmeep meep. Meep.


EEEEEYOOOOOOWWWWMMMMMM!!!!!

Not only have I been slacking on my quote collecting lately, but I'm a week late in updating them. Sorry, I've been having computer troubles again, and it has been hindering my desire to collect funny or interesting things people have written or said. Wait until you see the staggeringly small showing for May's comic strips.

That is behind me now, though, so I should be more inclined to save and share the quotes and comics and videos I liked the most. Maybe. We'll see. This is Number 24, which means I've been presenting quotes for roughly two years now. After I include these, I'll have roughly eleven hundred and eighty-seven quotes on random rotation under the header of my Blogger site. Moral of the story: I like quotes.

"Hey, want to rent a couch? Nobody else does, but we figure somebody has to be stupid enough to rent furniture." — Zack Parsons, SomethingAwful: Demographics

"Minorities earning less than 20K annually are the worst. At least the whites have the good decency to move into trailer parks located adjacent to toxic waste dumps and calmly wait to be vacuumed into the sky by God's erase tool." — Zack Parsons, SomethingAwful: Demographics

"I don't think too many porn actresses are Christian. If they are, they're not doing a very good job at it." — me, here

"The Smurfs sing someone to death. Don’t fuck with Smurfs." — composite quote of Todd Ciolek, Topless Robot: The 10 Most Insane, Child-Warping Moments of '80s Cartoons

"If you're unhappy on the plane, jump out of it. That's the problem with metaphors. Yes, what if you're in an ice cream truck, and outside are candy and flowers and virgins? You're on a plane. We're all on planes. Life is dangerous and complicated and it's a long way down. You're afraid to change. You'd rather imagine that you can escape instead to actually try because if you fail, then you've got nothing. So you'll give up the chance of something real so that you can hold on to hope. The thing is, hope is for sissies." — House, Living The Dream

"I am carrot. Roar!" — me, My Important Political Address

"For all you teen-aged mothers with no moral compass or self-respect, here's a real simple guide. Thirty-four is officially too old to wear pink sweat pants with the word 'BRAT' across the butt and try to sleep with all your daughter's boyfriends." — me, Mother's Day NOT Porn

"You know what is thicker than blood? Roofing tar." — me, Mother's Day NOT Porn

"James Randi and Richard Dawkins are like the patron saints of Atheism. For a couple of guys not into religion they sure do have a lot of worthless assholes worshiping them." — Hassan Mikal, SomethingAwful's Weekend Web: Dare 2 Share

"Galatians 5:2 reads 'Behold, I Paul say unto you, that if ye be circumcised, Christ shall profit you nothing.' Is it necessarily healthy for Jesus to be that preoccupied with the condition of my penis?" — me, here

"How many of you cynical jerks can honestly say you started a church and that church has its own navy?" — Zack Parsons on L. Ron Hubbard, The 11 Most Awful Museums To Visit This Summer

"They think badly. That's the definition of 'crazy.'" — Dr. Foreman on House

"Even when a girl is free she isn't really free. Apparently you have to feed them or give them sunlight or something. Total fucking rip off. Buy an iguana." — OKCupid user CarsAreScary in the OKCupid forums, here

"Hey raccoon. Washing garbage before you eat it doesn't make it not garbage." — Dr. David Thorpe, SomethingAwful: Your Bandicoot Sucks II

"Wasps love picnics and I love a cool drink of cream soda that stings the roof of my mouth." — Dr. David Thorpe, SomethingAwful: Your Bandicoot Sucks II

"The rattlesnake is nature's landmine." — Dr. David Thorpe, SomethingAwful: Your Bandicoot Sucks II

"Sure, parrots are cool, but you can teach kids to swear too, and they'll stop screaming and pooping indiscriminately after a couple of years." — Dr. David Thorpe, SomethingAwful: Your Bandicoot Sucks II

"Snails are just M&Ms for ducks." — Dr. David Thorpe, SomethingAwful: Your Bandicoot Sucks II

"I like how bats share their name with the most sporting way to destroy them." — Dr. David Thorpe, SomethingAwful: Your Bandicoot Sucks II

"Pet dogs kill more people every year than mountain lions have in the whole history of the United States, which means they both suck at their jobs." — Dr. David Thorpe, SomethingAwful: Your Bandicoot Sucks II

"The opossum is one animal that hasn't been threatened by human encroachment, since its natural habitat is under tires." — Dr. David Thorpe, SomethingAwful: Your Bandicoot Sucks II

"If shrimp lived in trees, a truck would come around and spray for them." — Dr. David Thorpe, SomethingAwful: Your Bandicoot Sucks II

"'USA' is not pronounced 'Oosa'. The Statue of Liberty is not the President of 'Oosa America'." — Zack Parsons, SomethingAwful's Awful Movie Database: Hasten 88 Unctuous

"The moon is not a continent." — Zack Parsons, SomethingAwful's Awful Movie Database: Hasten 88 Unctuous

"I love how some guys honestly believe that as long as they're not on the receiving end they can still call themselves straight even though it doesn't change the fact that they're still fucking a dude." — me, CraigsList Is Gay

"This is the reason why some people should be euthanized and others shouldn't." — me, CraigsList Is Gay

"Yippee! Killing is wrong." — iGod, Convsersations With God 2