Lookout Chess! Here’s a true game of strategy. Just like “Connect One,” it all has to do with the preparation. Like it says on the box, “It’s the most fun-filled action GAME you’ve ever played,” with “you’ve” meaning all four of you.
[Found on Rockhopper… Thanx Dan.]
Thanks gobs for all your support and interest this past year, and may your Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanzaa festivities include the gift of socks for you and yours.
Bunk & the Family Strutts
[Image from here.]
This is beyond the Valley of Stupid, past the Hill of Morons, and all the way up to the Citadel of Ignoramus, but it’s available here. The site has an appropriately annoying soundtrack, too, to remind you of what bubble wrap popping sounds like. China knows that we’ll buy anything except for an oil pipeline from the Alaskan arctic desert, and they’re banking on bubble wrap popping audio electronics for now.
Don’t get me wrong. I’d be hawking it right here if I’d thought of it first.
P.S. Don’t buy it yet. This is only the beta analog version. Digital is coming out in January.
Everyone should have an Albino Bowler Action Figure, if only to go with that Lunch Lady Action Figure you have on your desk.
“Crispness is clumping, the geezer’s got a flat; Won chew fleas butter Penny Inn anode man sat.”
Apparently there are a handful of folks who are offended by too many things, who are all humpy about this dopiness. I love it. And I love that those folks are all humpy about it, too.
Now if that were my son (the one on the left, I mean) I’d get all humpy about that ridiculous outfit, smack him on the temporal lobes, cut off his driving privileges and ask him what he was thinking.
[Images and story from here.]
StarWars emesis. And all this time I thought R2D2 only craps pepper in my salad.
[Image from here. Oh yeah, speaking of emesis, Diesel’s still hawking his book at MattressPolice if you’re looking for a last minute Christmas gift. He promises to deliver it in person if you order by midnight tonight. Otherwise, you can read it free on his website. Go figger.]
Just imagine… You have a holiday get together with your neighbors (the ones you actually talk to, not the one that has that strange odor coming from his house, or the ones with the 45-year-old son who never left home and lays face-down on the lawn across the street when you go to get the mail, or the one with three hearses in the driveway.)
A nice holiday gathering. A Hawai’ian theme complete with the apostrophe. Huge yellowfin and shark steaks are on the grille, and YOU bring out the salt. Not just any salt. Alaea Hawai’ian Sea Salt.
All your invited neighbors are visibly impressed with your obviously refined taste and culture.
Except for me, you dork. You bought into this? But I won’t tell it to your face. I’ll just smile and compliment you on your obviously refined taste and culture. Then I’ll make an innocuous comment about global warming and how OUR household is stopping it by changing the incandescent lightbulb outside our front door to a fluorescent lamp.
But tomorrow, I’ll have a good laugh with the 45-year-old neighbor’s son while we lay face down in the grass in front of the house with the three hearses next to the one that smells funny, and we’ll watch you get your mail and change your lightbulbs.
[Don’t creep out, it’s all in fun. “Salt-of-the-Month-Club” is available in limited quantities from The Onion. Looks like a great gift idea to me. I’d host the block party if I got it, fer shure (hint hint hint). —Bunk]
Helps children to improve self-esteem, at least for the one who goes first. Boys go first on the blue one; Girls go first on pink (not shown).
[Image from EatLiver.]
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.]
Tacky Raccoons 