No puedo ver si el monitor tiene el anuncio de Microsoft Windows “Pantella Azul del Muerte” [“The Blue Screen of Death”] para La Tumba de El Geek Desconocido.
Y’all know what I mean, even with my 8th Grade level Espanol, so don’t give me that.
[Photo via NoPuedoCreer.]
[Update: Okay, it means “Tomb of the Unknown Geek.” You happy now?]
TackyRaccoons was and is an experiment to see if I, Bunk, can keep people entertained with inanity stolen lifted linked with credits to other websites for cheap daily entertainment. I’ll keep it going as long as it’s fun for me.
Our purpose was and is to distract you from your job of actually being productive during the work week, and to keep you entertained on the weekends so that you run out of time to mow the lawn. Our crack team of webminers make sure that you can see stupid funny stuff at the office, at school, at home, and all without penalty if you’re caught, and on a daily basis.
In other words, we can’t give you a day off, but we can give you a coupla minutes.
Comments are always welcome, pro or con. Deep thoughts may be sent to BunkStrutts@verizon.net. I usually respond, unless you’re just too out there. If I don’t respond, you can take that as a compliment.
Thanks gobs for visiting. You made my day.
Bunk
P.S. Not tryin’ to be a ho, but would any of you regulars like TackyRaccoons T-shirts? Lemme know. Okay, I’m bein’ a ho. Offer stands, I just have to work out the logistics.
[Photo with the fingers of another 100,000-views veteran of the internest from here.]
Forget orange juice and Cap’n Crunch for breakfast. From now on it’s eggs and Diet Coke for me. (I hear that sales are down in Iran.)
[Photo via Chiquiworld.]
This kitten, Cornelius, was named after rapper M.C. Escher. It’s a well known fact that cats see in 10 dimensions simultaneously; this one is obviously focused on dimension 3.5, where the force of gravity is 90 degrees from the vertical.
(Oh yeah, it’s cute now. Just wait until that silent-running Prius comes around the corner and kitty becomes eco-art.)
[Photo from Zombie Panda.]
The original “Shout” by the Isley Brothers of Blue Ash, Ohio, limp-sinking in 1959:
Then white people in the recording industry decided to like it. Joey Dee & the Starlighters had a minor hit with it in 1962. Here’s the Shangri-las’ version, from 1963(?). No wonder it didn’t make the charts:
Then it was resurrected by Otis Day & the Knights, from National Lampoon’s “Animal House” in 1978.
As a bonus, here’s your favorite “Animal House” scene:
Thanks for watching. See you back here tomorrow.
I found this funny and somewhat disturbing at the same time. Hadda post it.
Just in time for All Soul’s Day.
Yes, folks, we’ve all seen it on TV, the one and only “Miraculously Pepper-Minty Faith-Enhancing Breathspray.”
Made from habanero chili oil, all it takes is one little squirt into your mouth, and you’ll be yelling, “OH GOD! O MY GOD!” and praying that there’s some milk left in the fridge.
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Habanero chilis make you smarter.
I’d read about them. A friend had given me five little orange ones he’d grown himself. Something that small and pretty couldn’t be that bad, I told myself, and I dared myself to try one, or rather, a small part of one, and I ate a fingernail-sized slice late one night several years ago.
I have a deep and profound respect for the habanero.
It was sweet, pleasant at first, until it jumped up and filled my entire field of vision. Flaming sweat was spitting out of my forehead when I took a lick of salt (one remedy) and I jammed my fist into the refrigerator for the quart of milk without opening the door. “OH GOD!” I yanked the milk out by its udders ignoring the jagged metal that cut my forearm.
I drank the whole quart, and finally the pain subsided. Whew… at least I could say that I’d eaten the habanero. But I found out that it wasn’t done with me yet.
Relieved, and with natural endorphins jumping around in my brain, I headed for bed, got my night-chonis on, brushed my teeth. Then I took out my contacts. “OH, GOD!” A minute amount of the habanero oil had not washed off of my fingers, and now my eyes were shooting flames.
I took the contact lenses, washed them thoroughly, dumped them into the little canister with the magic cleaning tablets, and went to bed.
Next morning. Forgot about the habaneros. Fetched my contacts from the little canister. Put them in my eyes. “OH, GOD!” I decided to ride it out, and it subsided, leaving me red eyed.
And I learned that the habenero wasn’t done with me yet. Later that afternoon while sitting next to the bathtub… “OH, GOD.”
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True Story, and I learned from it. Hope you did too.
[Photo source: Chiquiworld.]
Is it just me, or are they dancing to “Wooly Bully” by Sam the Sham and the Pharoahs?
Alternate .mp3 version of “Wooly Bully” is available at here along with some other freebees. Rhino Records put out a Best Of compilation on vinyl decades ago, and it’s prolly available on CD.
“Hey there, Little Red Ridin’ Hood… You sure are lookin’ good… You’re everthang that a Big Bad Wolf could want… Ooooooow!”
Not scary enough? Try this. (You need to get past the obnoxious unnecessary advertisement first.)
Here’s a scarier one:
That hair! Those bullseye pants! Those sandals! Those books she never read! And she’s sitting on an ottoman! AAAAUGH!
Now THIS woman, about the same age as the one in the photo above, deserves respect BECAUSE SHE’S EARNED IT. (If I was a militant Islamo-fascist, I’d be very afraid…)
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[Good God, I need to track the sources of these photos better. Lemme know if you know the sources and I’ll update the post. –Bunk]
Tacky Raccoons 
