Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon: Funny Stuff Archives

Daddies Long Legs

Being a Texan, this cracked me up:

A father watched his daughter playing in the garden.

He smiled as he reflected on how sweet and innocent his little girl was.

Suddenly she just stopped and stared at the ground. He went over to her and noticed she was looking at two spiders mating.

"Daddy, what are those two spiders doing?" she asked.

"They're mating," her father replied.

"What do you call the spider on top, Daddy?" she asked.

"That's a Daddy Longlegs," Her father answered.

"So, the other one is a Mommy Longlegs?" the little girl asked.

"No," her father replied. "Both of them are Daddy Longlegs."

The little girl thought for a moment, then took her foot and stomped them flat.

"That might be OK in Massachusetts & California, but we're not having any of that shit here in Texas."

~LCVeeshir
in the comments at this post over at The Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on April 15 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Notable Quotables

Don't break your arm patting yourself on the back...

I really lack the words to compliment myself today.
- Alberto Tomba

I'll always be Number 1 to myself.
- Moses Malone

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on March 25 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff

Scattershooting...

You want to see something that will make you laugh your ass off?

Check this out: The 1000 Fighting Styles of Rumsfeld

Via Sir Banagor via Emperor Darth Misha I

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on March 18 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

Astronomy?

In honor of the discovery of a new planet in our solar system, here are some jokes:

What does an astronomer use to hold up his pants?
Where does an astronomer go for a higher education?
Did you hear the joke about astronomy?
How do you keep astronomers clean?

Answer the questions in the comments if you think you are clever enough... I'll acknowledge the correct answers as posted or post the correct answers tomorrow pm in the comments.

Some miscellaneous facts:

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on March 16 :: Permalink :: Comments (8) :: Funny Stuff

The Lush Lexicon - III

The Lush Lexicon: Buzzwords for Boozeheads

Hey, slop jaw, quit boozgarting the felony juice so we can finish frontloading and get our fade on.

Last call lothario: Someone who's shy until last call, at which point he'll try to hook up with anything that has a pulse and/or booze at their home.
Loudmouth soup: A shot of strong liquor.
MDA: Mysterious Drinking Accident. When you wake up with bruises and cuts you have no recollection of receiving. Also called UPI (Unidentified Party Injury), UBB (Unidentified Beer Bruise) and drunk marks.
NBR: No Beers Required: Someone sufficiently attractive enough to hit on while sober.
One for the ditch: A less optimistic version of One for the road.
Pavement pizza: Vomit on the sidewalk, often found outside bars.
Prole piss: Any cheap American lager.
Prole piss poser: A yuppie who attempts to appear down with the working class by making a point of ordering only bottom shelf liquor and cheap beer.
Mystery guest: The guy at the party no one seems to know. They usually lurk in the kitchen near the booze.
Riding a rocking horse into battle: Getting drunk on 3.2% beer.
Roadside olympics: Roadside sobriety test.
Shelf jumper: Someone whose tastes improve from bottom to top shelf when someone offers to buy them a drink.
Skinflint sprint: The fast walk a departing patron employs after he's left the cocktail waitress a less-than-generous tip on the table. Someone who spills (unintentionally or otherwise) most of his shot down the side of his face. As in, "Don't waste anymore money on Mike, he slopjawed the last three shots."
Stout gout: The morning-after flatulence that often follows a night of drinking Guinness.
Tart fuel: Bottled alcopops, e.g. Hooch, Sky Blue, etc., regularly consumed by young women.
Thousand mile glare: The blank, vaguely hostile look a veteran bartender will give you when you ask a stupid question such as, "Is the beer cold?"
Tip jar anxiety: The fear that an unobservant bartender won't notice you left a good tip.
Trip dog: The invisible canine that starts getting underfoot around your tenth drink. Once he arrives he will trip you up the rest of the night.
Trojan hooch: Bringing an empty bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag to a party so you won't appear a mooch.
Twelve stepper: A reformed drinker or someone who wants to quit drinking early. As in, "Hold on there, twelve stepper, the bouncer hasn't even threatened us yet."
Two pint screamer: Someone who gets noticeably drunk after two drinks.
Vodka vision: A liquor specific brand of beer goggles.
Wobbly pop: Any beverage containing alcohol.
New Words for Drunk:: jagged up, boiled as an owl, mothered, curried and mashed, de-ossified, full tight, skinned, pie-eyed, gibbled, in the paint, pile-axed, rat-assed, stinko, torn off the frame, torqued, troll-eyed, wired to the tits, banjoed, chateaued, one over the eight, pixelated, swipey, wankered, zigzag, slaughtered, juice-looped, 12 gauged, Boris Yelstinned, cop-sluggin' drunk, five winos gone, jackassed, liver-lubed, monkey assed, mullocked, paralytic, stolichnyed, ten feet tall and bulletproof, tore up from the floor up, Kennedied, wearing a big hat, shined up, wingdinged, off the leash, drunk uncled, picassoed, and finally, locked out of your mind.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on February 19 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

The Lush Lexicon - II

Buzzwords for Boozeheads

Hey, slop jaw, quit boozgarting the felony juice so we can finish frontloading and get our fade on.

De-boned: To become so drunk you appear not to have any skeletal structure to hold you up.
Deep-dish olive pie: A martini.
Deja booty: When a drunk inexplicably has sex with the person he swore he would never speak of or to again, never ever.
Deja booze: When an infrequently enjoyed drink reminds you of the last time you enjoyed it. As in, "This margarita reminds me of when I was partying in Tijuana, just before I vomited on myself, picked a fight with the bartender and got thrown in the clink. Good times, good times."
Deserter: A full beer, possibly hidden, found when cleaning up the next day after a party.
Hell's own drag: Influence. As in, "See the size of that shot? Ever since I started dating the barmaid, I've got hell's own drag at this bar."
Drink link: An ATM.
Drink shrink: Those who, after a few drinks, discover they have the ability to psychoanalyze and offer solid personal advice to their friends and/or strangers.
Drinking in stereo: Boozing with a drink in each hand.
Felony juice: Tequila.
Flip wire: That fine, fuzzy line between buzzed and hammered. As in, "That fucker ain't driving, he tripped the flip wire three shots ago."
Floored: When you're so drunk standing up just seems a silly waste of time.
Frontloading: Getting drunk before going to a nightclub because the club's drinks are expensive.
FUBAR: Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.
Fugly bus: The mysterious bus that whisks away all the ugly people from the bar and replaces them with their beautiful cousins while you're in the bathroom draining your tenth pint.
Get the fade on: Going out with intention of getting very, very drunk.
Grog monster: The part of the brain that insists you keep drinking long after you should have went home and passed out.
Gutter hugger: Drinkers who empty the contents of their stomach into a gutter or nearest trash can.
Hooch hotel: The drunk tank.
Housed: Moderately drunk. This term is particularly popular with those who listen to the Grateful Dead and smoke large amounts of marijuana.
Jack and Jill: A shot of Jack Daniels and a beer.
Joint of no return: A bar from which you are 86'd.
Juice card: Received on your 21st birthday.
Jumping on the grenade: When two groups of the opposite sex meet, one member "jumps on the grenade" by talking to (or possibly sleeping with) the least attractive member of the other group so as to ensure the success of the rest of the group.
Jumping strays: Stealing unattended or abandoned drinks at a bar or party. As in, "I'm so broke I've been jumping strays all night."
Kamikaze eyes: The look a drunk gets when he spies someone he always hated but never had the guts to fight. Until now.
Keg commander: the boisterous chap who hovers around the keg so as to ensure everyone knows how to properly pour a beer.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on February 3 :: Permalink :: Comments (91) :: Funny Stuff
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: Logistics and Reenlistment.
» Electric Venom links with: The Letter of The Day is D
» Technicalities links with: More Wandering About
» Random Fate links with: It's time to lighten up...
» Practical Penumbra links with: Lucky Day Links
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: Now here is a home appliance I could go for!
» XSet links with: One down, god knows how many to go
» Straight White Guy links with: What's Going On?...
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: A little change of pace...

The Lush Lexicon

Buzzwords for Boozeheads

Hey, slop jaw, quit boozgarting the felony juice so we can finish frontloading and get our fade on.

Confused?

You should be. Bar slang is constantly evolving and if you fall behind you'll start coming off like Al Gore trying to get down at Ol' Dirty Bastard show. So let The Bartender hip you up and get you in with the cool kids.

Bait-and-switch: When an attractive person invites you to his or her table then steers you to a less attractive friend.
Barley sandwich: Beer for lunch. Also called a slurp sandwich.
Bayonetting the wounded: Gamely drinking the half-finished beers the morning after a party.
Booze coupons: Money.
Bedspins: The variety of spins that occur while lying prone. Putting one foot on the floor usually helps. If you are already on the floor, may God have mercy on your soul.
Beer bitch: The person sitting closest to the cooler or refrigerator at a party whose sole purpose in life is to grab another beer when yours runs out.
Beer blinders: One's perception when under the influence of alcohol. Often causes unattractive people to look hot, long distances to look jumpable and break dancing moves to look easy.
Beer Pressure: The tendency to drink what your friends drink.
Beer queer: A straight man who will pretend to be gay so as to solicit free drinks from an unsuspecting homosexual.
Blackout Brigade: A group of heavy drinkers.
Booze compass: The instinct that leads you home when you're blackout drunk.
Booze muscle: The increase in courage and combat abilities linked to heavy alcohol consumption.
Booze snooze: A nap taken early in the afternoon after a morning of drinking, designed to prepare you for the evening's drinking.
Boozgart: The person who, when he is supposed to be passing the bottle of liquor around, stops to reflect on the first time he got drunk, last time he got drunk, etc. A derivative of the stoner term bogart.
Breaking the Seal: Urinating for the first time during a drinking session. Once the seal is broken, restroom trips become much more frequent.
Britney Spears: A light beer. As in, "How can I take you seriously when you've been sucking
on Britney Spears all night?"
Buzzkill: That which destroys the buzz. Examples are fights with one's significant other while at the bar, boors who insist on telling that story one more time, your best friend admitting that he/she is sleeping with your significant other, horrible music after you've just heard three of your favorite songs in a row, or discovering that you actually have less than half of the money that you thought you had at the beginning of the evening.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on February 2 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

What the Fuck?

What the fuck… don’t fuck with me… fuckin A… flying fuck… fuck off… fuck you… fuck….

A google search for historical origins of fuck yields Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon: Fuck You! as #5 result. Only #5?!? UPDATE: Well, now Madfish Willie's is the #2 & #3 result. In a couple of days, I should be #1! Woohoo!

Here's a recap of some of the top results and we'll all know where the fuck fuck came from.

Here's the last fucking day of fuck:

Last Call »

The F Word

Comments on the author's use of the word "frig" sparked a fascinating discussion about the etymology of the word, which led to further discussion about the origins of my favorite word - "fuck."

For the F word in action...

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From ChocolateKisses
The grapevine has it that the word first came about through the justice system. When there was a case of 'rape'- the action was described as such . . .
*the accused used the victim For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge*

Thus it became an acronym - FUCK. And of course we had our way with it, you know, fucked with it a bit - leading to the way we use it today

From Summanus
Fuck might come from the Latin verb Futuere, meaning to fuck. It was a consider rude to express sex with futuere, like today it might de impolite to say fuck. 't' could easily change to 'ck'.

From Steven
The F word: The origins of our favorite word - "frappachino" right?

From Shawn
Word History The obscenity fuck is a very old word and has been considered shocking from the first, though it is seen in print much more often now than in the past. Its first known occurrence, in code because of its unacceptability, is in a poem composed in a mixture of Latin and English sometime before 1500.
The poem, which satirizes the Carmelite friars of Cambridge, England, takes its title, "Flen flyys," from the first words of its opening line, "Flen, flyys, and freris," that is, "fleas, flies, and friars."

The line that contains fuck reads "Non sunt in coeli, quia gxddbov xxkxzt pg ifmk." The Latin words "Non sunt in coeli, quia," mean "they [the friars] are not in heaven, since."

The code "gxddbov xxkxzt pg ifmk" is easily broken by simply substituting the preceding letter in the alphabet, keeping in mind differences in the alphabet and in spelling between then and now i was then used for both i and j; v was used for both u and v; and vv was used for w.

This yields "fvccant [a fake Latin form] vvivys of heli." The whole thus reads in translation "They are not in heaven because they fuck wives of Ely [a town near Cambridge]." (dictionary.com)

From Otto
Perhaps one of the most interesting words in the English language today, is the word Fuck. Out of all the English words that begin with the letter "F", Fuck is the only word that is referred to as the "F" word. It's the one magical word that just by it's sound can describe pain, pleasure, hate and love. Fuck....as most words in the English language is derived from the German word "Friken", which means to strike.

In English, Fuck falls into many grammatical categories. As a transitive verb for instance, "John fucked Shirley". As an intransitive verb, " Shirley fucks". It's meaning is not always sexual however. It could be used as an adjective such as, "John's doing all the fucking work"; as part of an adverb, "Shirley talks to fucking much"; as an adverb enhancing an adjective, "Shirley is fucking beautiful"; as a noun, "I don't give a fuck"; as part of a word "absofuckinlutely or infuckingcredible" and, as almost every word in a sentence, "fuck the fucking fuckers".

As you must now realize, there isn't to many words with the versatility of fuck. As in these examples describing situations such as fraud, " I got fucked at the used car lot"; dismay, "awe fuck it"; trouble, "I guess I'm really fucked now"; aggression, "don't fuck with me buddy"; difficulty, "I don't understand the fucking question"; inquiry, "who the fuck was that"; dissatisfaction, "I don't like what the fuck is going on here"; incompetence, "he's a fuck up" and dismissal, " why don't you go outside and play hide-n-go-fuck-yourself". I'm sure you can think of many more examples. With all of these multipurpose applications, how can anyone be offended when you use the word.

I say, use this unique flexible word more often in your daily speech. It will identify the quality of your character immediately. Say it loudly and proudly. FUCK YOU!

From J.T.
The way I heard it, somewhere in medieval times, one of the English kings had a brilliant idea to tax prostitution instead of outlawing it. All professional ladies had to apply for licenses to sell their wares, and each one who did received a certificate acknowledging their legal right to conduct their trade. The certificate said Fornicating Under Command of the King. F.U.C.K. Probably about as much validity to it as the other stories I've heard, but I like it.

Incidentally, the best examination of the word I've ever heard was done by George Carlin in his famous "Seven words you can never say on television" routine. He also pointed out that "fuck" is a word for making love, yet it's used when we really want to insult somebody. Carlin said, "I'd rather see a show of two people making love, rather than two people trying to kill one another, but I'd like to take it further. I'd like to substitute the word "fuck" for the word "kill" in all those old movie clichés." for example,

"Okay, sheriff, we're going to fuck you now. But we're going to fuck you slow."
"Careful with that clutch, or you'll fuck the engine again."
"Fuck the ump. Fuck the ump. Fuck the ump."

From John
I have a link here that addresses the question of the origin of the word "fuck." I can state categorically that it is not an acronym of any kind. Even though no one really knows for sure what the origin of the word is, it is a fact of our language that acronyms don't appear before the late nineteenth century. For a word that could have been around as early as the year 1250 (predating Modern English), an acronymic origin is not really possible.

One possible origin for the word I've heard, and isn't mentioned here , is that "fuck" may be derived from the German word "foch," which means "to plow." I kind of like that one.

From Anonymous
the word comes from Latin.....facies: to make or do, English cognate is fuck

From Karly
I like this Robin Hood type story. It's a nice twist having the main characters be woman. I noticed a few things....<> frig??

From Jean Roberta
Your question ("frig?") deserves an essay on archaic terms for sex. (There is probably a book on this somewhere.) "To frig" is a nineteenth-century term for masturbating (usually someone else), or to be more precise, finger-fucking. I like the word because it seems more precise than any currently-used term for this activity. Since my story is set in the past, I used the old word, even though it probably isn't old ENOUGH to give an accurate flavor of "days of yore" (the Robin Hood era).

Another nineteenth-century word that, for some reason, seems to have disappeared is the French-flavored "gamahouche" (or "gamahooch") for oral sex, i.e.: 69, giving head, going down on.

You can find these words and many more in paperback reproductions of THE PEARL, a racy magazine that flourished briefly in Victorian England (1880s, I believe). I can't remember the publisher, but you could find publishing info under the title in BOOKS IN PRINT in any library.

I don't see why perfectly useful words have to die, but if readers don't know what I mean when I write, I suppose I might as well frig myself.

From Siobhan
I have heard this word used in an epithet--"that frigging idiot!"--but not very often. Have always thought it was supposed to be a more polite way of saying "fucking", but now I see it has a meaning all its own, though not that much different from the word fuck.

And speaking of the word fuck, since we have been discussing words lately, isn't it interesting how that word can be used to mean making love (although it's not a very, erm, romantic word for that delightful pastime), and also as one of aggression and heavy-duty insulting?

From Volponia
Sure is, Siobhan, almost as interesting as the way fucking has been employed (not solely by men!) primarily to exercise power over the fuckee. And what's the deal with so many of the words dealing with sexual parts and acts, anyhow? Why are they so dry and hard, when we are so soft and wet (well, *some* of us... ) I mean, really, the word "cunt." It sounds like a good alias for a sledgehammer. And "prick"? Something slender, sharp, pointy, hurtful? No thanks.

From Shivaji
Years ago, I had to take History of the English Language course to complete the requirements for the doctorate degree at Columbia. Although I resented taking it then, I was most fortunate that a renowned American lexicographer (writer of dictionaries) gave this course. At that time he was on the board of the Oxford English Dictionary (OED).

Professor was a short, little bald man, at the edge of retirement, and extremely polite and formal. His lectures were fascinating because, instead of sticking to linguists' mumbo-jumbo, he used to talk about historical, social and cultural influence on and of words. Then one day, when a student wanted to know why OED did not publish curse words, Reed corrected him and said it's OED's policy not to publish meanings of words if their etymological history (i.e., how words came into a language) was not formally determined. Most curse words have a problem of origin, he said. Then, surprising every one, in his gentle, polite way, he said, with just the slightest impish smile, that he was about to break the etymological history of the word, "fuck." He actually pronounced the word, with the most delicate little pronunciation, wispy and gentle! The almost silent word could be heard in the class like a pin dropping. Students were stunned. (This was 1973). Thereupon he gave the most erudite lecture on "fuck" that I've ever heard!

It seems that there was a word in Old English, used by farmers, that was a direct descendent from the Latin, "pug," the infinitive form of "pugnare" meaning "to hit aggressively," but also "to pierce." During the Great Western Migration many European words mixed with each other. Some words were imported in their original form, but many began to be used with distinctly different sounds. The great fairy tale writer, Grimm, studied these sound shifts, and observed that these sounds changed according to certain phonemic (i.e., sound) patterns and actually created a formula to trace the sound shifts.
According to Professor, "fuck" comes from an Old English word "fuk" meaning, "to plant." I am not an expert in Old English, but Reed quoted from OE texts to illustrate the meaning of the word. Reed says the word "fuk" was a result of a sound shift from "pug" because the p-sounding words often changed to f-sounding words (for instance, the Latin 'pater' meaning father, changed to the English, 'father'), and the g-sounding words changed to k-sounding words (the Latin 'genu' meaning knee, changed to the English knee. Up to the 18th century the English word was actually pronounced with the 'k').

So, "pug," changed to "fuk," meaning, "to plant." Professor Reed said that around the tenth century, in Medieval England, the word somehow took on a sexual meaning. Apparently, Chaucer may have been one of the first writers to use the word sexually. Planting left agriculture and took on a human behavior, Reed said, panting!

Steven, the whole class was mesmerized by this lecture. Walker said he had written a 22 page paper for the Journal of American Linguistics, "My tour de force was that I never once mentioned the word in my paper!" he said with the cutest smile. Finally, with the same modest demeanor, Professor Reed announced that he was currently hard at work on "cunt." The whole class burst out laughing

From Pan
I'm late in catching up with the fuck thread, but I don't think anyone has mentioned the book, THE F WORD, edited by Jesse Sheidlower and pub. by Random House three or four years ago (Available at Amazon.com & Amazon UK). The book contains just about all you might care to know about the word. (Not the subject, of course, which is endlessly fascinating.)

Sheidlower writes that the word "fuck" derives from several Germanic languages and words that have sexual meanings as well as meanings such as "to strike" and "to thrust." He believes that the claim for acronymic origin of "fuck" began sometime in the '60's and says he thinks the claim is false, since "Acronyms are rare before the 1930's, and etymologies of this sort--especially for older words--are almost always false."

« You're cut off!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on February 1 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

What the Fuck?

What the fuck… don’t fuck with me… fuckin A… flying fuck… fuck off… fuck you… fuck….

A google search for historical origins of fuck yields Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon: Fuck You! as #5 result. Only #5?!? UPDATE: Well, now Madfish Willie's is the #2 & #3 result. In a couple of days, I should be #1! Woohoo!

Here's a recap of some of the top results and we'll all know where the fuck fuck came from.

Here's the fifth fucking day of fuck:

Last Call »

Fuck References

Date: Tue, 5 Sep 1995 16:46:48 EDT
From: Will Wheeler
Newsgroups: alt.folklore.urban
Subject: Etymology of a Dirty Word

A topic that frequently comes up in this newsgroup is word or phrase origins, especially when the origins are obscure or there are folkloric aspects to the origin. A prime example is the word fuck. Many people think that fuck is derived as an acronym of For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge or Fornication Under Consent of the King. These people are wrong. The word fuck is a good 500 years old, with cognates that are much older. For more information on the etymology of fuck, as well as many other word and phrase origins, please consult the /pub/cathouse/urban.legends/language/ directory at the cathouse archives. Another good source is the _Random House Historical Dictionary of American Slang_, which has pages and pages of definitions. They quote alt.sex.stories on to fill with fuck, but don't get the definition of flying fuck completely correct.

I chanced upon a reference on the etymology of fuck, and thought that I'd share what I found. The article is "An Obscenity Symbol," by Allen Walker Read, in _American Speech_, 9 n. 4, (December 1934): 264-278. It's quite an enjoyable read and only briefly touches on the etymology of the word, which is fine; the main focus is on the history of the word in the language, in dictionaries, and popular speech. Interestingly, Read always uses "our word" or "the word" instead of "fuck," but it's pretty obvious what word he's talking about.

The first appearance of the word fuck was in a poem by William Dunbar, entitled Ane [or A] Brash of Wowing or In Secreit Place. The poem was composed in 1503, at the latest. Dunbar was Scottish, and the other early recorded uses of fuck are also from Scots. Read concludes that "either the word had little stigma in this resion and was merely a counterpart of Chaucer's swive, or that the Scots were bolder in speech than their southern neighbors." You be the judge.

I found the poem in The Poems of William Dunbar, James Kinsley, ed., Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1979, 40-42.

Here are the first two stanzas of the poem:

In secreit place this hindir nycht
I hard ane bern say till a bricht:
My hunny, my houp, my hairt, my heill,
I haif bene lang your lufar leill
And can yow gett confort nane;
How lang will ye with denger deill?
Ye brek my hart, my bony ane.
His bony berd wes kemd and croppit
Bot all with kaill it was bedroppit
And he was townsyche, peirt and gukkit.
He clappit fast, he kist, he chukkit
As with the glaikkis he were ourgane--
Yit be his feiris he wald haif fukkit:
Ye brek my hairt, my bony ane.

Apparently, this is about a romantic liason between a kitchen maid and a smooth-talking city boy. A colleague of Michele Tepper's has provided a translation. Please email me if you're interested.

Please feel free to follow up to this post. Don't, however, even think about suggesting that you heard that fuck is derived from an acronym. It isn't, and the idea has absolutely no basis in fact.

~Will "you know what we'll do" Wheeler ~

« You're cut off!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 31 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

What the Fuck?

What the fuck… don’t fuck with me… fuckin A… flying fuck… fuck off… fuck you… fuck….

A google search for historical origins of fuck yields Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon: Fuck You! as #5 result. Only #5?!? Here's a recap of some of the top results and we'll all know where the fuck fuck came from.

Here's the fourth fucking day of fuck:

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 30 :: Permalink :: Comments (4) :: Funny Stuff
» DramaQueen links with: beauty and love and art and ooh, all sorts of nice things!
» TreyGivens.com links with: These Are a Few of My Favorite Things ~Or~ A Bloggiverse Snap Jar
» Tao of Dowingba links with: F.u.c.k.
» Tao of Dowingba links with: A hypothetical conversation

What the Fuck?

What the fuck… don’t fuck with me… fuckin A… flying fuck… fuck off… fuck you… fuck….

A google search for historical origins of fuck yields Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon: Fuck You! as #5 result. Only #5?!? Here's a recap of some of the top results and we'll all know where the fuck fuck came from.

Here's the third fucking day of fuck:

Last Call »

Snopes.com

Claim: The word 'fuck' derives from an acronymic phrase, either 'For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge' or 'Fornication Under Consent of the King.'

Status: False.

Examples:

[Collected on the Internet, 1999]

In ancient England single people could not have sex unless they had consent of the king. When people wanted to have a baby, they had to get the consent of the king, and the king gave them a placard that they hung on their door while they were having sex. The placard had F. U. C. K. (Fornication Under Consent of the King) on it. Hence that's where the word Fuck came from. Now, aren't you glad you learned something new today?

[Collected on the Internet, 1997]

In Christianized Anglo-Saxon Britain, invading kings would require that their troops would rape the women in a common demoralization procedure. Because fornication was against religious law, the rapists needed special religious permission, from the king.

[Collected on the Internet, 1995]

Have been informed by lawyer friend that acronym stands for "For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge," a legal offense of a few centuries back regarding out-of-wedlock, underage, etc. coupling.

[Collected on the Internet, 1995]

The dirty copulatory word back in days of yore was "swive". Supposedly "swive" was excised from texts by the Censors and replaced with the inscription "For Unlawful Carnal (or Cardinal?) Knowledge" — or at least its initials. At least this is what I learned in college — or was it the streets?

[Collected on the Internet, 1995]

The explanation I heard as a kid was that it stood for: For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.

It was said that this was a British Army charge used when soldiers were caught shagging without permission (I was never sure if it was shagging women or each other). They would be tried and sentenced, hence you're FUCKed now etc . . .

[Collected on the Internet, 1995]

I thought it stood for what adulterers had written above them in the stocks: For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge, that being their crime.

Variations:
The 'acronym' is variously rendered as:

Fornication Under Consent of the King

Fornication Under Charles the King

Fornication Under Crown of the King

Fornication under Christ, King

For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge

Forced Unlawful Carnal Knowledge

File Under Carnal Knowledge (how Scotland Yard marked rape files).

Forbidden Under Charter of the King (a sign posted on brothels closed by the Crown)

Origins: Though a few common English words have grown out of acronyms (words created by taking the first letter(s) of major words in a phrase), 'fuck' isn't one of them. With precious few exceptions, words of acronymic origin date from the 20th century and no earlier. It's almost guaranteed, therefore, any word from before the time of automobiles did not spring to life from a series of initials becoming so common folks began pronouncing it as its own word.

The acronymic explanation of the origin of 'fuck' takes one of two paths: Fornication Under Consent of the King or For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. Dealing with the first of these, though it's pleasing to think couples looking to procreate in those Dark Old Days had to first obtain the sovereign's persmission and then post a notice of what they were up to so all the neighbors could enjoy a good snicker, a moment's thought should set that one to rest. Were the king responsible for handing out such permissions, he wouldn't have time to do anything else (or even to keep up with that one task). Likewise, though there have been times when conquering forces have engaged in rape, it wasn't by royal fiat at the behest of a king looking to further dispirit the conquered. One last nail in the coffin of the 'fornication under consent of the king' origin comes from the word 'fornication' itself. Though many reasonably conclude fornication is the old-time word for having sex, the term specifically excludes the physical union of man and wife. One can fornicate premaritally or extramaritally, but not intramaritally. In light of this, any claim wedded couples trying to entice the stork down their chimney were granted fornication permits crashes against the rock of the wrong word being used.

The second path has the word deriving from the short form of 'For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.' Variously, adulterers, rapists, child molesters, and them wot engaged in premarital hanky panky were, as part of their punishment, sentenced to wear a placard announcing their wrongdoing. According to this origin, adulterers locked the stocks in village squares sported 'FUCK' around their necks as did rapists walking around in prison yards.

Here, the word that trips that proposed etymology is the least obvious one — 'For.' Though displaying miscreants in stocks and public shaming were popular punishments in 18th and 19th century USA, any placards left either on the prisoner or on top of the stock would list the crime succinctly. Thus, someone who'd been caught filtching would have a placard that said 'Thief' or 'Stealing,' maybe even 'Stealing a Cow,' but never one that read 'For Stealing a Cow.' The 'For' would be superfluous.

Okay, so the word didn't come to us from an acronym; where did it come from then?

According to the alt.usage.english FAQ:

[Fuck] is a very old word, recorded in English since the 15th century (few acronyms predate the 20th century), with cognates in other Germanic languages. The Random House Historical Dictionary of American Slang (Random House, 1994, ISBN 0-394-54427-7) cites Middle Dutch fokken = "to thrust, copulate with"; Norwegian dialect fukka = "to copulate"; and Swedish dialect focka = "to strike, push, copulate" and fock = "penis". Although German ficken may enter the picture somehow, it is problematic in having e-grade, or umlaut, where all the others have o-grade or zero-grade of the vowel.

AHD1, following Pokorny, derived "feud", "fey", "fickle", "foe", and "fuck" from an Indo-European root peig2 = "hostile"; but AHD2 and AHD3 have dropped this connection for "fuck" and give no pre-Germanic etymon for it. Eric Partridge, in the 7th edition of Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English (Macmillan, 1970), said that "fuck" "almost certainly" comes from the Indo-European root *peuk- = "to prick" (which is the source of the English words "compunction", "expunge", "impugn", "poignant", "point", "pounce", "pugilist", "punctuate", "puncture", "pungent", and "pygmy"). Robert Claiborne, in The Roots of English: A Reader's Handbook of Word Origin (Times, 1989) agrees that this is "probably" the etymon. Problems with such theories include a distribution that suggests a North-Sea Germanic areal form rather than an inherited one; the murkiness of the phonetic relations; and the fact that no alleged cognate outside Germanic has sexual connotations.

In plain English, this means the term's origin is likely Germanic, even though no one can as yet point to the precise word it came down to us from out of all the possible candidates. Further, a few scholars hold differing pet theories outside of the Germanic origin one, theories which appear to have some holes in them.
'Fuck' is an old word, even if it's been an almost taboo term for most of its existence. It was around; it just wasn't used in common speech all that much, let alone written down and saved for posterity. Likely its meaning contributed to its precise origin becoming lost in the mists of time — scholars of old would have been in no hurry to catalogue the growth of this word, and by the time it forced its way into even the most respectable of dictionaries, its parentage was long forgotten.

The earliest cite in The Oxford English Dictionary dates from 1503. John Ayto, in his Dictionary of Word Origins cites a proper name (probably a joke or parody name) of 'John le Fucker' from 1250, quite possibly proof the word we casually toss about today was being similarly tossed about 750 years ago.

Spurious etymologies such as this one satisfy our urge for completion — we want to believe such a naughty word has a salacious back story, something replete with stocks and adulterers, or fornication permits handed out by a king. How utterly prosaic to find out 'fuck' came to us the way most words sneak into the language — it jumped the fence from another tongue, was spelled and pronounced a bit differently in its new home, and over time drifted into being a distinct word recognized by everyone. Takes all the fun out of it, it does.

Acronymic explanations catch our fancy due to the "hidden knowledge" factor. Most of us feel a bit of a glow when we think we're in possession of information others aren't privy to, and when a titillating or apt story is thrown in behind the trivia, these things just take off. "Tips" does not come from "To insure prompt service," yet that canard is widely believed. Likewise, "golf" didn't spring to life out of "Gentlemen only; ladies forbidden," and "posh" did not take its place in our vocabulary from a shortening of "Port out; starboard home."

Barbara "port of last call" Mikkelson

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» by Madfish Willie on January 29 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

What the Fuck?

What the fuck… don’t fuck with me… fuckin A… flying fuck… fuck off… fuck you… fuck….

I was going through my referrers log and checking searches that yielded Madfish Willie's. A google search for historical origins of fuck yields Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon: Fuck You! as #5 result. Here is a recap of some of the top results and sonn we'll all know where the fuck fuck came from.

Here's the second fucking day of fuck:

Last Call »

http://urbanlegends.about.com/library/bl-f-word.htm

Description: Folk etymology
Status: False
Circulating since: 1960s
Analysis: See below
Origin of the F-Word

Variant #1
Email text contributed by T. McInnis, 22 March 2001:

In ancient England a person could not have sex unless you had consent of the King (unless you were in the Royal Family). When anyone wanted to have a baby, they got consent of the King, the King gave them a placard that they hung on their door while they were having sex. The placard had F.*.*.*. (Fornication Under Consent of the King) on it. Now you know where that came from.

Variant #2
From a Usenet posting, 1 Nov 1990:

The word fuck comes from colonial times, when someone would be punished for 'prostitution' It was an acronym for the words 'For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge' FUCK was written on the stocks that held these criminals because For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge was too long to go on the stocks.

Variant #3
From a Usenet posting, 12 Oct 1990:

I always heard that "F.U.C.K." originated in the 1800's in London, when they used to charge prostitutes "For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge". So officer got sick and tired of writing those, um, lessee, 26 characters, not including spaces, so it got abbreviated FUCK and stuck.

Comments: Having consulted the definitive reference work on this subject (yes, there is such a thing: "The F-Word" by Jesse Sheidlower, published by Random House in 1999), we feel confident in dismissing the above claims as imaginative bunk.

The word "fuck" did not originate as an acronym. It crept, fully formed, into the English language from Dutch or Low German around the 15th century — it's impossible to say precisely when because so little documentary evidence exists, probably due to the fact that the word was so taboo throughout its early history that people were afraid to write it down. (The American Heritage Dictionary says its first known occurrence in English literature was in the satirical poem, "Flen, Flyss" (c.1500), where it was both disguised as a Latin word and encrypted — "gxddbov," deciphered as "fuccant," pseudo-Latin for "they fuck.")

According to Sheidlower, the earliest print mentions of supposed acronymic origins for the F-word appeared in the 1960s. An underground newspaper called the East Village Other published this version in 1967: It's not commonly known that the word "fuck" originated as a medical diagnostic notation on the documests of soldiers in the British Imperial Army. When a soldier reported sick and was found to have V.D., the abbreviation F.U.C.K. was stamped on his documents. It was short for "Found Under Carnal Knowledge."

Two more variants appeared in a letter published in Playboy magazine in 1970: My friend claims that the word fuck originated in the 15th Century, when a married couple needed permission from the king to procreate. Hence, Fornication Under Consent of the King. I maintain that it's an acronym of a law term used in the 1500s that referred to rape as "Forced Unnatural Carnal Knowledge."

Undoubtedly the most famous use of this etymological travesty was as the title of the 1991 Van Halen album, "For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge."

Last updated: 11/06/02

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» by Madfish Willie on January 28 :: Permalink :: Comments (3) :: Funny Stuff
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: Irish Extreme Sports.

What the Fuck?

What the fuck… don’t fuck with me… fuckin' A… flying fuck… fuck off… fuck you… fuck….

I was doing a check through my referrers yesterday and checking searches that pointed people to Madfish Willie's. A google search for historical origins of fuck yields Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon: Fuck You! as #5 result. Only #5?!? Well, we must do something about this. Therefore, I will do a recap of some of the top results and we'll all know where the fuck fuck came from.

Here's the first fucking day of fuck:

Last Call »

http://students.washington.edu/laurenem/fourletter.html

Lauren Mahon
English 512
Prof. Anne Curzan
November 30, 2000

Four-Letter Folk Etymology and the “Bald Anglo-Saxon Epithet”

The cultural and historical descriptor “Anglo-Saxon” as a way to classify the common four-letter obscenities has been in use for at least the last seventy years. The Oxford English Dictionary cites one of the first recorded uses of the adjective in this sense from 1927, printed in the 1928 linguistics journal American Speech: “Several Laborites were suspended in the House of Commons. . . to the accompaniment of. . . the hurling of bald Anglo-Saxon epithets traditionally classed as unparliamentary.” [1] This delightfully descriptive phrase reveals that it was a class of words rather than an exact set of pinpointed terms which fell under the rubric “Anglo-Saxon”—although in that same year the Saturday Review of Literature could refer to “[a]ll nine of the tabooed Anglo-Saxon monosyllables” and presumably bring to mind a specific list. But is this usage a case of folk etymology run rampant? Which of the common four-letter words do stem from Old English? More importantly, why would a descriptive word pointing back a millennium—to an etymological origin shared by a great number of the most common words in modern English—come into usage at all?

In his satisfyingly thorough investigation of the history of an often overlooked area of language, Geoffrey Hughes attempts to ascertain precisely which of the four-letter words can be traced to Old English. Hughes’ use of the term “four-letter words” seems to apply expressly to words relating to excretion or sex—his list of the earliest recorded instances of the use of individual “four-letter words” includes words of varying lengths describing the male sexual organ (cock, tarse, weapon, limb, yard, tail, tool, prick, and penis) but excludes some actual “four-letter” words that are perhaps less offensive today (hell, damn) (Hughes 25). With those limitations, Hughes proclaims that “[o]nly shit, arse, and turd can genuinely be termed ‘Anglo-Saxon’ words on an etymological and historical basis” (25). While it seems clear that any determination of how many of the four-letter words originate in Old English depends entirely on which words one classifies as “four-letter words,” what is certain is that any list of the common obscenities will include both words of genuine Anglo-Saxon etymology and words of a different historical background altogether.

Following Hughes, then, we know that turd, shit, and arse can definitively be traced to Old English. To this list we can add cock (which, at least according to the recorded use, was not used to refer to the penis until the 17th century) and hell, along with the lesser four-letter term fart, which first appears in Middle English but has been hypothesized to have its root in the extrapolated Old English verb feortan (Hughes 27). Words that do not have a direct origin in Old English include fuck, of uncertain etymology but with possible roots in both Latin and Old Norse, the Latinate terms cunt and damn, and words of definite later origin (crap, dick). If the majority of the four-letter obscenities do come from Old English, then, perhaps the association is not as “erroneous” as Geoffrey Hughes would have it: Hughes cites the judgment in the case of The United States v. One Book Called ‘Ulysses’ to comment disparagingly on the “simplistic. . . equation of ‘four-letter and ‘Anglo-Saxon’ [which] is surprisingly common, even in educated circles” (Hughes 35).

The widespread acceptance of the idea that four-letter obscenities stemmed from Old English actually contains more reasoning than Hughes cares to admit. In the first place, the very nature of these words made them less likely to be researched or discussed: in her psychoanalytic investigation into “dirty words”, Ariel Arango points out that fuck, cock, and cunt “are, of course, expelled from any decent dictionary, and it would be unimaginable to hear them issue from the lips of the teacher in any classroom” (Arango 120). The currency of the idea that obscenities were Anglo-Saxon flourished during a time in which dictionaries did not include such words, and the etymologies would have been both difficult and potentially viewed as perverse to pursue. The 1933 supplement to the OED excluded words such as “cunt ‘female sex organs’; the curse ‘menstrual period’; to fuck ‘have intercourse with’” (A. S. C. Ross, quoted in Hughes 238-239). In the second place, the term “Anglo-Saxon” was already in use, according to today’s OED, as referring to forms of English that were “plain, unvarnished, [and] forthright.” The OED provides an 1866 quote making this use clear: “Occasionally a word of honest, hearty Anglo-Saxon, or a ‘bit of the brogue’, to remind you that you are not in Naples, but in New Orleans.” While many critics (including myself) have dissected the reference to “Anglo-Saxon monosyllables” as an attempt at folk etymology, what we may in fact have is a folk etymology derived not from a theory of precise historical origins but from the idea that words originating in Old English are in general more direct and plain than those imported from the Romance languages.

This generalization can in fact be backed up by an investigation into why the four-letter words as monosyllables beginning with a typical set of letters have remained active for, in some cases, over a thousand years. Geoffrey Hughes’ suggestion runs along these lines: “Many of the most used [swearing] terms in English now start with the letters ‘b’ and ‘f’, for reasons which are not easily explained. Could it be that voiced bilabial plosives and fricatives are the most satisfactory phonetic expression of emotional release?” (23) Burges Johnson’s contemplations in The Lost Art of Profanity follow along similar lines: he quotes the “wise philosopher, William J. Boardman”, as a source of the idea that man’s “first threatening aggressive noises were full of G’s and K’s and P’s and H’s and harsh sibilants. Such noises had the effect of a blow; they needed no dictionary to prove they were primed with all the bad magic of an evil wish” (Johnson 22). H. L. Mencken’s introduction to Johnson’s reflections implies in a more comical sense that particular words demand to be used in this manner: [W]e have lately seen the heroes of a great moral war march home with a repertory of invective almost tragically thin and banal. Like any other Christian soldiers they used a great deal of foul language in field and camp, but very little of it got beyond a few four-letter words. These four-letter words were so cruelly overworked that, though they went to war with narrowly restricted significances, they returned meaning almost as many things as muszage-guabzu, the Babylonian Word from the Abyss. (Johnson 9)

Even minimal contact with Old English points out the frequency of plosive and fricative consonants, and observation alone demonstrates that the inflected forms of Old English tend to be briefer (perhaps as a result of the use of vowel changes rather than suffixes) than the inflected forms of a language such as Latin. These characteristics of Old English may alone suffice to make the connection of short, blunt words with the Anglo-Saxon tongue not very far-fetched.

If we agree that words in Old English tended to be shorter and begin with more powerful consonants, it seems clear that the Old English versions of those four-letter words it did provide to modern English would be likely to have an entirely different sense in the Old English period. What limited information scholars can determine about word usage seems to reinforce this idea. The words for the definitively Old English terms turd, shit, and arse (tord, scite, and ears) occur most frequently in medical texts and leechdoms—scittan in the sense of diarrhea, for example, occurs in Bald’s Leechbook as a descriptive term, without any obvious colloquial qualities: “Lacedomas wiÞ Þon Þe mete untela mylte & cirre on fule & yfle wætan oÞÞe scittan” (OE Corpus). Tord and ears, as well, occur in these sorts of texts as straightforward descriptions of functions and anatomy. Robert Burchfield points out that “[t]he medical writers of the period used a wide range of mostly explicit terminology for the excretory and sexual organs and functions,” but correctly adds that “[t]he degrees of intimacy or delicacy implied in such terminology. . . are difficult to determine” (Burchfield 21).

Norman Blake’s investigation of how the English language was used in medieval literature explicitly proposes that it is precisely colloquialisms and so-called “dirty words” that are less likely to remain in what we have today of the Old English corpus. As the use of Old English in teaching colloquia points out, the most formal and respected language for use in writing was Latin, and English was most likely to be used textually as a tool to attain mastery of the classical tongue. Throughout the Anglo-Saxon period, English was only beginning to be used as a language in which serious work might be written. Blake argues that [w]riters of English suffered from an inferiority complex in regard to both Latin and French, an inferiority engendered by its comparative poverty and instability . . . . Far from making his written language more colloquial, an author was intent on giving it the dignity and status which he attributed to Latin and French. (Blake 43)

Burchfield’s list of Old English words for parts of the body having to do with sex or excretion gives the most common terms for male and female genitalia as gesceapu, getawa, geweald, and gecyndelic. A search of the Old English Corpus for these terms makes it evident that they were most likely euphemistic words: gecyndelic, which can be translated directly as “proper body” or perhaps “noble body,” occurs 72 times in the Corpus, with the majority of those uses (all references outside the leechdoms) referring to a sacred quality of God.[2]

If words describing sex or excretion were—so far as we are able to tell a millennium later—used straightforwardly in Old English, the question with which we are left is how and whether the Anglo-Saxons encountered the idea of obscenity and which words were weighted with taboo or vulgarity in the culture. Of course, for the very reasons Norman Blake presents, it is very difficult to determine the answer to this question. In his focus on the “Germanic heritage” of swearing, Geoffrey Hughes seizes upon charms, oaths, vows, and the ritual exchange of insults known as “flyting” to determine the ways in which what Burchfield calls “sceandword (opprobrious words)” (Burchfield 20) operated. He chooses these foci precisely because it is nearly impossible, given the limitations of the Old English texts remaining, to single out words that may have had negative or vulgar connotations in the period. The very focus of later “obscenities” on the major taboos of sex and religion, however, point to precisely why it might be meaningless to search for Old English variations of “four-letter words.” Our modern-day definition of what constitutes a “four-letter word” is based on our own choice of obscenity. As Geoffrey Hughes reminds us, “societal taboos. . . reflect differing attitudes towards major forces which sustain, alter, or threaten life. These can be very diversified or specific, but commonly involve the deity, death, madness, sex, excretion, and strangers” (11). Thus what is obscene in the 21st century may in fact be precisely that which is most unlikely to have been taboo a millennium earlier. Due to the limitations of the texts remaining from the Anglo-Saxon period, it may be that we will never know what word might have been rude or vulgar from the point of a Byrthnoth or a Beowulf. The only assumptions we can make are that based on the nature of the culture as we know it, vulgarities or obscenities were likely to be oriented toward certain aspects of society—and according to Hughes, the relevant arena for Old English swearing lies in “Germanic heroism” and its “intense commitment to language and honour” (52).

Works Cited:
Arango, Ariel. Dirty Words: Psychoanalytic Insights. Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, 1989.
Blake, Norman. The English Language in Medieval Literature. London: J. M. Dent & Sons,
1977.
Burchfield, Robert. “An Outline History of Euphemisms in English.” Fair of Speech: The Uses
of Euphemism. Ed. D. J. Enright. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1985. 13-31.
Hughes, Geoffrey. Swearing: A Social History of Foul Language, Oaths and Profanity in
English. London: Penguin, 1998.
Johnson, Burges. The Lost Art of Profanity. Intr. H. L. Mencken. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1948.
OED Online. 2nd ed. 1998.
The Oxford English Dictionary. 29 Nov. 2000 .
Old English Corpus. Ed. Antonette di Paolo Healey. 2000 release. April 25, 2000. Dictionary
of Old English Project, Centre for Medieval Studies, U of Toronto. 29 Nov. 2000 .

[1] OED definitions and quotations come from the online version; see Works Cited page for details.
[2] It may be worthwhile, however, to note the similarity of the syllable ‘cynd’ to cunt, which is generally traced to the Latin cunnus.

« You're cut off!

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» by Madfish Willie on January 24 :: Permalink :: Comments (7) :: Funny Stuff
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: More trolling through the 'roll.

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Skill Badge: Smart-Ass Prick Bartender

Motto: “Fuck You!”

Nominated by Harvey from Bad Money

The bartenders at the little Dallas Club in San Antonio, in addition to being the fastest fucking bartenders that ever lived, were all a bunch of smart-ass, rude, fucking pricks! We were Dick's Last Resort bartenders before Dick's Last Resort was a wet dream. Hell, fuck Dick's, we would probably have been fired from Dick's for being to rude!

So, The Bartender accepts this medal on behalf of all my fellow bartenders from the Legendary Dallas Club at Fredericksburg / Wurzbach in San Antonio

What should our next award be and to whom shall it go?

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 23 :: Permalink :: Comments (5) :: Funny Stuff

After Your Fifth Drink....

Here is a list that tells you when you are have officially become a drunkard. It comes from Modern Drunkurd Magazine.

Which one are YOU today?

Numbers 181-207 of 207:

You have a born-on date tattooed on your beer gut.

You hold a bottle of hair spray and say, "Man, if you were ice cold."

You're addressed by three separate liquor store owners as "the guy who paid for my houseboat."

You often confuse the word breakfast with Bloody Marys, i.e., "What are we going to have for Bloody Marys this morning?"

You know that liquor is especially tasty when it comes from the secret hiding place in your roommates's closet.

You can, in a pinch, construct a fully-operational keg tap from a cigarette lighter, two clothespins and lots of love.

You get in a heated conversation with your barstool neighbor about the proper way to vomit from a moving vehicle.

At 2am you proclaim, "The party ain't over until the fat lady says no!"

You need a cosigner to open a bar tab.

The monkey on your back is in rehab.

You know that, with a bouncer's assistance, man in capable of short-term flight.

You have recurring dream you're hired by the Guinness\Playboy Research foundation to prove twenty pints a day improves your sex life.

You often take your lover for romantic strolls among the picturesque aisles of liquor superstores.

You will eat a bug for a shot.

You know wine is mentioned in the Bible over 250 times. Perrier? Not once!

You have strained cigarette-butt infested beer through your teeth.

You consider 3.2 beer on Sunday as Uncle Sam's cruel taunt.

You can hear someone whisper "free beer" from three blocks away.

You know the heartbreak of watching the bartender dump the spill tray.

You call the bartending academy, inquiring as to what they do with their mistakes.

You refer to your refrigerator as "the stand-up beer cooler."

You give directions with liquor stores and bars the the major landmarks, i.e., "You'll pass Argonaut's Liquors on the left and Scooter's on the right, then turn right on the street between the Satire Lounge and the Lion's Lair, then continue until you see the tree that looks like a huge martini glass."

You think vomiting is the body's way of making room for the next round.

The first thing you look for on a wine label is the alcohol content.

You consider Aqua Velvet a daring after-hours liqueur.

You recognize last call as a secret signal that all unattended drinks are fair game.

When someone says "expensive wine," you think "gallon jug."

Four years of research and three hours of writing went into your masterful college thesis, "MD 20\20: Self-Esteem Enhancer For the Leisure Classes, or Cancer Cure for the Working Masses?"

Tomorrow: A round-up and gratuitous LinkFest of past claimers of the numbers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 23 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff

After Your Fifth Drink....

Here is a list that tells you when you are have officially become a drunkard. It comes from Modern Drunkurd Magazine.

Which one are YOU today?

Numbers 161-180 of 207:

You know that time is never wasted when you’re wasted all the time.

You use Calvin Klien’s new aftershave, but don’t really care for the aftertaste.

You refer to your mouth as your "booze hole."

You wish bartenders would spend more time ‘tending’ and less time ‘barring.’

The first thing you say when you walk in a bar is, "I’m not still 86’d, am I?"

You’d go to Mass more often if they weren’t so stingy with the wine.

When you were in high school you had a poster of W.C. Fields on your bedroom wall.

You drank ten bottles of wine last week and didn’t need a corkscrew once.

You prefer Hamm’s and eggs for breakfast, minus the eggs.

The rotgut whiskey you buy is so disgusting you have to drink the first half the bottle just so you’ll be drunk enough to put up with the taste of the second half.

Whenever someone starts reading a bottle of Jack Daniels you say, "Quit cheating!"

You don’t sniff the cork, you chew it.

Your career is interfering with your drinking.

You get so drunk Bud Light starts tasting like beer.

You read this magazine until you fall asleep, then use it as a blanket.

You heard you get drunker at higher altitudes so you always drink on top of the dumpster.

Your alarm clock is a garbage truck.

You’ve worked out a devious plot to steal Einstein’s brain. So you can drink the alcohol it’s stored in.

You masturbate to the liquor ads in Playboy.

You show up at the flu clinic to investigate rumors of "free shots."

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 22 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Skill Badge: Bender Badge

Motto: “Alcohol above all!”

Steady employment, familial disdain and outraged spouses mean nothing to this fearless stalwart as he launches weeklong campaigns against liquor and liver alike..

[This medal is presented to: Darren the Colorado Conservative, who is currently on vacation!]

What should our next award be and to whom shall it go?

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 22 :: Permalink :: Comments (5) :: Funny Stuff

After Your Fifth Drink....

Here is a list that tells you when you are have officially become a drunkard. It comes from Modern Drunkurd Magazine.

Which one are YOU today?

Numbers 141-160 of 207:

You make a point of never drinking before noon. Which is convenient, because you’re never up before three in the afternoon.

One of your hobbies is sitting down and calculating exactly how much liquor your next paycheck would buy at the liquormart. Just out of curiosity, of course.

Your co-workers start whispering with concern when you don’t come in with hangover.

Your boss tells you to "Shape up or ship out," and you reply, "You mean like a cruise ship? Are the drinks expensive on cruise ships?"

The whole terrorism deal became very clear to you when you found out muslims aren’t allowed to drink.

You wish you were closer to Jesus, especially when he’s doing his wine to water thing.

A cold cement floor looks comfortable and inviting.

You wish temperance leagues still sang anti-drinking religious hymns outside bars, because, you know, it’d be a very funny thing to watch while getting hammered.

You think alcohol-fueled automobiles are the wave of the future because, hey, it certainly works for you.

You think a wrong number is an adequate excuse to go on a bender.

"Going out for a beer or two" sometimes means waking up in Vegas three days later.

You hated Ted Kennedy until you realized he can probably outdrink you.

You always confuse the words picture and pitcher, especially when someone says, "Hey, take my picture."

You happen to share the same home town, ethnicity, lifestyle, opinions, occupation or whatever-the-hell of whoever happens to be buying the drinks.

You consider vodka a chaser.

Your roommates say good morning to you and you haven’t been to bed yet.

You volunteered to work for free for NASA when you heard about the gas clouds in space containing billions of gallons of alcohol.

You know a bottle of Jack under your bed is worth a million bottles in the liquor store after midnight.

You have told a bartender: "I didn’t hear anyone yell last call. How could I? I was in the bathroom, vomiting in your urinal."

Half the bouncers in town know exactly how much you weigh.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 21 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Skill Badge: Expert Wingman

Motto: “Alcohol above all!”

The most valuable ally any drunk can have, this heroic hooch head will distract, disempower and, yes, romantically engage the hideous sidekick so his pal may seize an alluring prize.

[This medal is presented to: Trey Givens]

Last One: Skill Badge: Bender Badge

What should our next award be and to whom shall it go?

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 21 :: Permalink :: Comments (9) :: Funny Stuff
» TreyGivens.com links with: Ladies Love Cool Trey

After Your Fifth Drink....

Here is a list that tells you when you are have officially become a drunkard. It comes from Modern Drunkurd Magazine.

Which one are YOU today?

Numbers 121-140 of 207:

Booze may not be the answer, but it helps you to forget the question.

You exist in a perfect Zen circle: you drink because your wife nags and she nags because you drink.

You got so drunk on St. Patrick’s day it seemed like every other day.

You must have a drink by eleven, it’s a deed that must be done. If you can’t have a drink by eleven, you must have eleven by one.

If a man gave you a fish and you’d eat for a day. If he taught you to fish you’d sit in a boat and drink beer all day.

If it weren’t for the olives in your martinis, you’d starve to death.

When your spirits get low, you use a straw.

You’d go on the wagon, but can’t find one with a bar.

You always cook with wine. Sometimes you even add it to the food.

You drink a bottle of wine everyday. Unless you’re sick. Then you drink two.

You refer to grapes as "wine eggs."

You can walk into a 7-11 at 2am, look at the cheese dog that’s been mutating on the grill since 8am and think, "Man, that looks tasty!"

You know liquor gets better with age, because the older you get the more you like it.

You only drink to steady your nerves. Sometimes you get so steady you have to be carried out.

You drink to make other people appear cool enough to hang out with you.

Quitting drinking is the easiest thing in the world. You’ve done it a thousand times.

You have a reserved parking space at four different liquor stores.

You woke up feeling really strange, then realized you didn’t have a hangover.

With a bottle of Passport Scotch and a suitcase of Stroh’s you can go on vacation without ever leaving your house.

You never drink anything stronger than vodka before breakfast.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 20 :: Permalink :: Comments (6) :: Funny Stuff

After Your Fifth Drink....

For your entertainment today, I have a funny list of stuff that happens after your fifth drink. I can't remember where I grabbed this from, therefore I cannot give the proper credits. I think it is from Modern Drunkurd Magazine. If you've seen it somewhere else, let me know.

Which one are YOU today?

Numbers 101-120 of 207:

You know that vodka is tasteless going down, but memorable coming up.

You say when your drunk what you think when you’re sober.

You know the best beer in the world is the one in your hand.

Beer does not make you fat. It makes you lean— against bars, poles and tables.

You always drink Irish Coffee for breakfast because it contains all four adult food groups: fat, sugar, caffeine and alcohol.

You don't drink anymore . . . of course, you don't drink any less, either.

Your bartender never has to ask, "Do you want another?"

You recognize that vomiting is just the body’s way of making room for another round.

You distrust camels or anything else that can go a week without a drink.

You're favorite method of dieting is the "Slim Jim": Ultra Slim-Fast shakes made with Jim Beam.

Absolut wants to run an ad featuring a picture of your liver in the shape of a bottle.

You only drink to get rid of hangovers, and sometimes it takes all night.

You know if you give up drinking you won’t actually live longer — it’ll just seem like longer.

You spend ninety percent of your paycheck on drinking and waste the rest.

You fell down two flights of stairs and didn’t spill a drop.

You don’t mind blacking out because it makes Sunday confession much less embarrassing.

When you wake up hungover you’re afraid you’ll die. Half an hour later you’re afraid you’ll live.

You wonder why people need friends when you can just sit in a room and drink all day.

You believe the only Absolut(e) in life is vodka.

You went on a diet, swore off drinking and bar food, and in fourteen days you lost two weeks.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 16 :: Permalink :: Comments (4) :: Funny Stuff

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Skill Badge: Croix de Keg

Motto: “Alcohol above all!”

When lightweights have given up, this stout drunkard will lift the keg, slur, “It’s only half done,” vomit over his left shoulder, then singlehandedly do battle with his aluminum adversary until it floats empty and despondent in its icy tomb.

[This medal is presented to: Duke Nukem - Madfish Willie's Official Brewmeister!]

Next Time: ?????

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 16 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff

After Your Fifth Drink....

For your entertainment today, I have a funny list of stuff that happens after your fifth drink. I can't remember where I grabbed this from, therefore I cannot give the proper credits. If you've seen it somewhere else, let me know.

Which one are YOU today?

Numbers 81-100 of 207:

You woke up on New Years Eve with the resolution of finding out which bars open earliest.

Get mad when your family calls you a
wino because they know damn well you prefer whiskey.

You’re definition of a problem drinker is guy who won’t buy you a round.

You hate the person you become when you black out, because, you know, that fucker drinks all your beer.

You know hangovers only last a day, but a good drinking story lives on forever.

You don’t like to think of it as blacking out. You prefer to think of it as exercising the lizard brain.

The only useful thing you got out of an A.A. meeting was learning how to identify your enablers. Because, hey, those guys are most likely to buy you a drink.

You distrust any wine that doesn’t give you a decent hangover.

A good drinking buddy will bail you out of jail, but a great drinking buddy will be sitting in the cell beside you, saying, "Man, that was awesome!"

The last words you remember each night are, "Hold my beer and watch this!"

You’re disappointed when you go to a funeral and there’s no keg.

You refer to your mouth as your "booze hole."

You’ve told Jehovah’s Witnesses, "Of course, I want to go to Heaven. I’m sure it’s awesome. God does pick up the tab every night, right?"

You once got so drunk you dreamed you got fired and broke up with your girlfriend — and it all came true!

You regularly ask bartenders, "So, how are the spill mats looking tonight? Anything good in there?"

Someone tells you they don’t drink anymore, and you bravely respond, "Don’t worry about it, buddy, I’ll take up your slack!"

You prefer vodka that comes in the handy plastic squeeze-size bottles.

The bartender asks for your I.D. just to see how long it'll take you to find your pants.

Two weeks into the bender you found out "Drink Canada Dry" was a corporate slogan, not a challenge.

For the money you’ve spent on Thunderbird, you could have bought the car.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 15 :: Permalink :: Comments (3) :: Funny Stuff

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Skill Badge: Vermouth Wings

Motto: “Alcohol above all!”

When the keg is dead and the vodka vanquished, this plucky lush will stare a bottle of vermouth in the fancy label and say, “Fuck it, it has alcohol in it, right?” And, vile shot after vile shot, he will take that bottle down.

[This is presented to: Trey Givens - who else would drink vermouth?]

Next Time: Skill Badge: Croix de Keg

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 15 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff
» TreyGivens.com links with: Ladies Love Cool Trey

After Your Fifth Drink....

For your entertainment today, I have a funny list of stuff that happens after your fifth drink. I can't remember where I grabbed this from, therefore I cannot give the proper credits. If you've seen it somewhere else, let me know.

Which one are YOU today?

Numbers 61-80 of 207:

You’ve discovered that teaching your dog to shoplift from liquor stores was not nearly as hard as teaching him to distinguish between Grey Goose and McCormick’s.

You were against going to war with Iraq until you found out those poor fuckers aren’t allowed to drink.

The first thing you thought when you woke up yesterday was, "Wow, look at all that gum stuck under the bar!"

Your girlfriend left you because you accidentally cried out "Glenfiddich" while making love.

Your beer back comes with a tap.

You conduct weekly "assisted short-term flight" experiments every weekend. With the help of various bouncers.

You’re regularly mobbed by autograph hungry alley winos.

You were the first person in line at the flu clinic because you heard they were giving away free shots.

You like tequila with a lime — or dirt, or a hamster or whatever, so long as there’s tequila involved.

You come home sober and your dog bites you.

The cafeteria in the detox center has a sandwich named after you.

You can’t recognize your best friend unless he’s leaning against a bar. With a drink in his hand. Drunk.

You like a splash of coffee in your morning whiskey.

You can blow a .08 BAC from twenty feet away.

You take swim trunks to brewery tours.

You’re kept awake at night by the sound of your liver crying.

You prefer cold showers because the ice in your drink doesn’t melt as fast.

You’re shocked and confounded to discover they actually sell Coke without Jack Daniels.

When a cop asks you to walk a straight line, you ask, "Which one?"

You tried getting out of a DUI by putting a beer label on your arm and telling the cop you’re off the booze and on the patch.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 14 :: Permalink :: Comments (4) :: Funny Stuff

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

The Bukowski Award

Motto: “Alcohol above all!”

The highest award a drunkard can receive, this medal is given to those who have conducted a lifelong campaign against every manner of booze, hooch, brew and vino. No fortified wine is too vile, no rotgut too evil, no beer too green for this master of benders and barroom brawls. He is the flickering light that is the inspiration of common drunks the world over.

[This is presented to Matty O'Blackfive… what can I say?]

Next Time: Skill Badge: Vermouth Wings

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 14 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

After Your Fifth Drink....

For your entertainment today, I have a funny list of stuff that happens after your fifth drink. I can't remember where I grabbed this from, therefore I cannot give the proper credits. If you've seen it somewhere else, let me know.

Which one is Harvey today?

Numbers 41-60 of 207:

You’re stalked by alcoholic vampires.

You have never screwed a cap back onto a liquor bottle.

Your friends pretend to be bartenders, just so you’ll pay attention to them.

Your personal mantra is, "Where there’s a swill, there’s a sway."

You suffer from barthritis— every night you get stiff in another joint.

You don’t recognize the difference between "waking up" and "coming to."

You donate a pint of blood and the hospital has to card the patient they give it to.

Your liver enters itself in a Tough Man competition.

You wear Hawaiian shirts because it’s tougher to see vomit stains on them.

Going out drinking with you is covered by your friends’ insurance.

As a child your dad helped you learn math by first explaining a four-count.

Your personal math system is based on the number six, i.e.: "I’ll take a twelver of Big Macs, with a sixer of those without cheese."

You use visualization techniques to master beer bongs.

In high school, you were voted most likely to drink in grade school.

2 for 1 is your lucky number.

A perfect date is soft music, a bottle of wine and moi.

A couple times a year you go on a "non-bender."

Before you go out each night you consult a psychic hotline to determine which bartenders will be pouring strong.

Peeling the label off a beer bottle arouses you.

You feel a tinge of pride when someone refers to you as a "shameless alcoholic."

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 13 :: Permalink :: Comments (3) :: Funny Stuff
» Ramblings of SilverBlue links with: Tuesday...who Link-Luv™'s Ya Baby?

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Legion of the Worm

Motto: “I see you down there, you little bastard.”

No snooty agave grub can daunt the likes of these mescal warriors. Locked in mortal combat with a bottle of the most monstrous of liquors, this liquor legionnaire will guzzle his way through hellish and murky depths and, seizing his rival in his teeth, will announce, “Tastes like chick bllllaaaaaakakak!”

[This is presented to GlennRio - who taugt me how to tend bar and how to drink Cuervo gold striaght up with a coke back! Ack!!]

Next Time: The Bukowski Award

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 13 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

After Your Fifth Drink....

For your entertainment today, I have a funny list of stuff that happens after your fifth drink. I can't remember where I grabbed this from, therefore I cannot give the proper credits. If you've seen it somewhere else, let me know.

Which one is Harvey today?

Numbers 21-40 of 207:

The glass isn’t half empty or half full. It just needs to be topped off.

You don’t fall off the wagon—you leap off it while chugging a bottle of cheap bourbon.

You have two personalities: Mr. Responsibility and Mr. I-Think-I’ll-Call-All-My-Old-Girlfriends-While-I'm-Blacked-Out.

The word "rent" loses all meaning after your fifth drink.

You’re so good at "drinking to forget" that you sometimes forget how to walk.

Whenever someone in a suit spills your well bourbon it magically transforms into top shelf scotch on the way to the floor.

You laugh at funerals but weep like a baby whenever you hear about a beer truck overturning.

You’d rather be a bus driver than an astronaut because, hey, there ain’t no beer where they’re going.

You don’t mind when your wife finds you stinking drunk in a bar, because then you can hit her up for a free drink.

Pink elephants get drunk and they see you.

You can get drunk on Scotch tape.

You’re not a hard drinker. It’s the easiest thing you do.

You like to have a drink between drinks.

You’d join AA but your always too drunk too memorize the pledge.

Your sleep number is 151 . . . proof.

You quit drinking once, and it was the worst afternoon of your life.

You won’t eat an olive unless it’s sterilized in gin.

You think Beethoven’s Fifth is a bottle of schnapps.

You’re living a champagne lifestyle on a beer budget. Except you don’t like champagne so you just drink lots and lots of beer.

Gin rummy sounded like a fun game.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 12 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Prisoner of War Award

Motto: “Yamudderrfuckincopeyeainevendrunkyet.”

“These goddamn handcuffs are too tight,” are the watch-words of this gritty class of drunkard. For even the slyest of boozeheads are sometimes captured by the enemy and forced to endure the hardships of inedible box lunches, malodorous cellmates and mind-numbing counseling sessions common to detox centers and longer-term facilities. With even greater courage, he will call friends who can barely make rent and ask, “Dude, can you post bail?”

[This is presented to Mike the Marine.]

Next Time: Legion of the Worm

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 12 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

After Your Fifth Drink....

For your entertainment today, I have a funny list of stuff that happens after your fifth drink. I can't remember where I grabbed this from, therefore I cannot give the proper credits. If you've seen it somewhere else, let me know.

See if you can pick which one is Harvey!

Numbers 1-20 of 207:

After your fifth drink, you’re like Don Juan with the ladies: They Don Juan nothing to do with you.

You suspect that water, taken in small quantities, isn’t all that dangerous.

You occasionally have meals with your wine.

You wake up every morning at the crack of ice.

You drink to forget you drink.

You distrust camels, or anyone else who can go a week without a drink.

People get drunk by shaking your hand.

You never eat breakfast on an empty stomach.

Beer is the reason you get up every afternoon.

The only drinking problem you have is the two-hands/one-mouth thing.

Your house is so messy because it spins like a top every time you lie down.

You drink to steady yourself, and sometimes you get so steady you can’t move.

You never walk, you just occasionally stagger in a straight line.

You get angry because there’s always so much booze left at the end of your money.

You think that drunks are a lot like chess players, only drunk.
You forgot your fishing pole on your fishing trip and didn’t notice.

You’ve been laid out on more floors than Johnson’s Wax.

Your liver has hired an attorney.

You wish all the world’s parking lots could be somehow turned into lush rain forests, because, you know, it’s hard to hide from cops in a parking lot.

Your favorite bar installed a seat belt on your barstool.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 10 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Beer Not Bread Award

Motto: “I’m so hungry I could eat a gallon of whiskey.”

When dire finances dictate a full belly or a fullbore night of drinking, this lionhearted lush never teeters between Top Ramen and twelvers of cheap beer. Keenly aware that food is temporary but memories of debauchery last a lifetime, he will ignore his growling stomach and ask the grocery clerk, “Where’s the beer section?"

[This is presented to me, in my youth, when I did some serious drinking on a nightly basis.]

Next Time: Prisoner of War Award

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 9 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff
» Just A Girl In The World links with: MT Blacklist

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Abandoned Drink Rescue Commedation

Motto: “This drink belong to anybody?”

No cocktail or pint need ever fear being callously dumped into spill buckets while this intrepid inebriate is on hand. His ears endlessly tuned to the melting of ice in a neglected cocktail and the dying carbonation of a forgotten pitcher, he will swoop down like a chivalrous Valkyrie or creep up like a stealthy commando to rescue and deliver the orphan to its rightful home—his belly.

[This is presented to Finn the Viking, because he swoops down like a chivalrous Valkyrie]

Next Time: Beer Not Bread Award

Nominations for this award??

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 7 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

The Purple Liver

Motto: “The liver is evil and must be punished.”

No amount of blinding pain and visible swelling will sway the recipients of this medal from wholeheartedly attacking that most haughty and insolent of internal organs. “Take that, you bastard, and here comes another!” he will shout at his sworn enemy as he tests its will with jolt after jolt of rotgut tequila.

[This is presented to Matty O'Blackfive from Blackfive- The Paratrooper of Love!. Anyone that drinks 6 beers at a time has just GOT to have a Purple Liver!]

Next Time: Abandoned Drink Rescue Commedation

I'll be taking nominations for this award in the comments!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 7 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff
» Blackfive - The Paratrooper of Love links with: Wednesday Warp

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Last Call Commendation

Motto: “Just one more and I’ll go, honest.”

Unflinchingly ignoring the dire threats and hoarse shouting of bartenders and bouncers alike, these elite drinkers will boldly demand just one more drink, just five more minutes. With their backs against the cold, black night and empty liquor cabinets, they will fight like tigers the dying of the light and the closing of the taps, until, finally they are tossed haplessly into the frightful maw of impending sobriety.

[This is presented to Jeff from BigStick.US Although he's not of legal age yet, I just know this is how he's gonna turn out]

Next Time: The Purple Liver
and I'll be taking nominations in the comments!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 6 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Bruised Brain Award

Motto: “I shall never drink again. Never.”

Prized by functional alcoholics, this commendation is awarded to those who rise at ungodly hours with horrific headwounds and gallantly sally forth to hateful jobs to stoically suffer the slings and arrows of suspicious bosses and clanging telephones. Dauntless, they tremor their way through the workday and rally at the bar to extract a cruel revenge on the evil dog that bit them.

[This is presented to Eric the Straight White Guy for beating me up all last week on his new design!]

Next Time: Last Call Commendation

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 5 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Tavern Defense Campain Medal

Motto: “That’s my stool.”

The first line of defense against winos, tourists, weekend-warriors and slumming yuppies, the recipients of this medal man the barstools that are the trenches of every pub. With snide remarks, inside jokes and sidelong glares, these hardened veterans tenaciously defend the bar’s television from subversive programming and prevent thirsty strangers from overwhelming the bartender.

[Shit, it would have taken an Army of these fuckers to keep me from being overwhelmed... I was the fastest bartender that ever lived!]

Next Time: Bruised Brain Award

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 3 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

Above and Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Beer Goggles of Gallantry

Motto: “No way that’s the same chick!”

In the face of facial warts, extreme obesity, general hideousness and severe damage to their reputations, the recipients of this award bravely advance into public makeout sessions and dark bedrooms to grapple with creatures the sober wouldn’t shake hands with, never mind share bodily fluids.

[That's what Harvey says after spending the night with Fatty Sue!]

Next Time: Tavern Defense Campain Medal

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 2 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

Above And Beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Blackout Brigade Medal of Merit

Motto: “I won’t remember you.”

Long after lesser drunks have staggered off to bed, these valorous boozers shout: “Yes, I will have another double shot of tequila!” and gallantly lurch into the inky blackness of oblivion. Fully aware that memories and public respectability are for the timid, they will barely cringe under the whipcrack of the cruel, latter-day revelations of erstwhile friends, missing credit cards and the hateful glares of apparent strangers.

[Sounds just like Matty O'Blackfive after a long night at Madfish Willie's!]

Next Time: Beer Goggles of Gallantry

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on January 1 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff
» BLATHER REVIEW links with: I'm not here

Above and beyond...

Above and Beyond Last Call
Awards for boozing beyond the call of duty

Royal Order of the 86

Motto: “I promise to be good this time.”
Awarded for aggressively assaulting the patience of the most tolerant of bartenders; for never being so sober he can’t get into a scuffle with a blind Buddhist; for testing the headlock proficiency of bouncers the world over. And when the battles are over, these audacious souls still find the courage to walk into bars where their name is the basest of curses and say, “Oh, c’mon! That goddamn Buddhist was eye-fucking me all night!”

[Sounds like something Lord Spatula would say!]

Next Time: Blackout Brigade Medal of Merit

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on December 31 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

Merpy Chriskwanzukkah

The Bartender at Madfish Willie's would like to wish all my readers a Merpy Chriskwanzukkah!

May the season find you and your loved ones healthy, wealthy, and wise!

Here's my gift for ~~Frnak~~ ~~Pervey~~ Harvey this Christmas because he's been such a jack-ass all year:

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on December 24 :: Permalink :: Comments (6) :: Funny Stuff
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: What the Barkeep said...
» She Who Will Be Obeyed! links with: Merpy Chriskwanzukkah

Rules for YellowDog

Dog Rules for my buddy, YellowDog!

NEWSPAPERS:
If you have to go to the bathroom while playing in the front yard, always use the newspaper that's placed in the driveway every morning for that purpose.
[or go poop in Harvey's yard... that would be the best thing to do]

VISITORS:
Quickly determine which guest is afraid of dogs. Charge across the room, barking loudly and leap playfully on this person. If the human falls down on the floor and starts crying, lick its face and growl gently to show your concern.
[if Harvey comes over, you can lick your balls first]

BARKING:
Because you are a dog, you are expected to bark. So bark--- a lot. Your owners will be very happy to hear you protecting their house. Especially late at night while they are sleeping safely in their beds. There is no more secure feeling for a human than to keep waking up in the middle of the night and hearing your protective bark, bark, bark ...
[it's OK to wake Harvey up every night after pooping in his front yard]

LICKING:
Always take a BIG drink from your water dish immediately before licking your human. Humans prefer clean tongues. Be ready to fetch your human a towel.
[if it's Harvey, you can lick your butt first]

HOLES:
Rather than digging a BIG hole in the middle of the yard and upsetting your human, dig a lot of smaller holes all over the yard so they won't notice. If you arrange a little pile of dirt on one side of each hole, maybe they'll think it's gophers. There are never enough holes in the ground. Strive daily to do your part to help correct this problem.
[learn to dig a hole, poop in it, and then cover it up... or go poop in Harvey's front yard]

DOORS:
The area directly in front of a door is always reserved for the family dog to sleep.
[you can sleep there only after pooping in Harvey's front yard]

THE ART OF SNIFFING:
Humans like to be sniffed. Everywhere. It is your duty, as the family dog, to accommodate them.
[no sniffing of the new girlfriend's crotch - that's my job!]

DINING ETIQUETTE:
Always sit under the table at dinner, especially when there are guests, so you can clean up any food that falls on the floor. It's also a good time to practice your sniffing.
[stay away from Harvey's rotten crotch or you'll be sorry]

HOUSEBREAKING:
Housebreaking is very important to humans, so break as much of the house as possible.
[make sure to pee on the corner of Harvey's recliner first thing every day]

GOING FOR WALKS:
Rules of the road: When out for a walk with your human, never go to the bathroom on your own lawn.
[the only acceptable place to poop is on Harvey's front lawn]

COUCHES:
It is perfectly permissible to lie on the new couch after all your humans have gone to bed.
[or you can go poop in Harvey's front yard]

PLAYING:
If you lose your footing while chasing a ball or stick, use the flower bed to absorb your fall so you don't injure yourself.
[if you are in Harvey's front yard, watch out for the poop]

CHASING CATS:
When chasing cats, make sure you never --- quite --- catch them. It spoils all the fun.
[chasing is not near as fun as pooping in Harvey's front yard]

CHEWING:
Make a contribution to the fashion industry. ...Eat a shoe
[or you could poop in Harvey's shoes and call it doggie art]

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on December 22 :: Permalink :: Comments (3) :: Funny Stuff

Healthy Drinking Tips

Updated: 12.10 1:15am

Shaping Up Your Inner Child
Your girlfriend says it, your parents say it, and everyone at the court-mandated A.A. meetings say it: “You need therapy to discover the deep-seated motivations that make you drink so much.”

If they don’t buy your answer of “My competitive spirit,” then you may feel compelled to seek out and interrogate your inner child. And I’m going to help you.

Why? Because you cannot have a sound body unless you possess a sound mind. They go together like Jack and Coke, like blackouts and bruises.

In the spirit of that fine understanding, I will generously share a secret Swedish regression technique that will enable you to find your inner child and discover what makes you the drunk that you are.

Secrets of the Backa Genom Sprit
It is common knowledge among the village wisemen who live in the shadow of Kebnekaise, Sweden’s tallest mountain, that it is quite easy to delve inside your psyche using a powerful tool called Backa Genom Sprit. Which roughly translates into Regression Through Drinking.

While this sounds too easy and delightful too be true, I can readily assure you it is a highly effective technique. Ever since I became a practicing Spritist, I’ve had a much better relationship with my family.

What follows is a basic guideline to becoming a Spritist based on someone of average age, weight, and drinking ability. Modify your levels accordingly. It is best to do this alone or with a group of strangers you will never see again.

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on December 10 :: Permalink :: Comments (11) :: Funny Stuff
» Primal Purge links with: The Cyberhikers Guide To Linking
» Note-It Posts links with: Now THAT'S linky-love
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: Tooling around my blogroll...
» Practical Penumbra links with: Attempted pongage

Google Bombs R US

OK. I usually stay away from politics in the bar, but goddammit they shouldn't had done it.

Seems like there is a concerted blogger effort on someone's part to have President George W Bush associated with the term: miserable failure on google searches. Well fuck that!

Tim at An Englishman's Castle [via Susie, via Blackfive] has had enough too. He started a Google Bomb of his own and I'm more than happy to assist him in his quest for equality of Googling.

So, here goes the big one: Miserable Failure

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on December 5 :: Permalink :: Comments (6) :: Funny Stuff

Evil Glenn Part Time Job

From the Alliance HQ answering machine as Evil Glenn was on hold waiting to talk to Harvey:

I don't know about you, but my neighborhood is overrun with squirrels. However, unlike most people who feel that these pests are nothing more than a major nuisance, I say if it wasn't for those furry little friends I never would have been able to learn the art of taxidermy, prepare gourmet rodent delicacies or design fur-lined vests with matching bushy-tailed hats...

Gaddamn, that Evil Glenn is truly one evil son-of-a-bitch. Now he fucking the squirrels! Is nothing safe in this world from the vileness of Evil Glenn? Apparantly not...

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on December 4 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Evil Glenn Part Time Job

From Alliance HQ:

Sure, Evil Glenn's got all kinds of cash rolling in from his law practice, his poetry anthology, and his celebrity endorsements, but that new girl of his is SERIOUSLY high maintenance (not to mention high mass). So it looks like Glenn's got to find yet another method of bringing in the green. We need to find out what it is. Your assignment this week is to answer the question:

What is Evil Glenn's part-time job?

Evil Glenn is a Statue Molester, and I have the photographic proof. I don't know how much he gets paid, but he sure looks like he gets off on it!

Actually, that looks a lot like Frnak!. Maybe they have some sort of weirdo man-love statue molesting thing going on that we don't know about? Kinda makes you wonder, doesn't it.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on December 2 :: Permalink :: Comments (4) :: Funny Stuff
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: While I'm grieving...
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: While I'm grieving...
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: While I'm grieving...

Evil Glenn Restaurant Menu

Mad Dog Bad Money Harvey dropped by over at Evil Glenn's crappy little joint called Blender's the other day. Evil Glenn just added on a little "gourmet" restaurant, so Harvey swiped a menu. I sure hope he didn't order anything off of it, although with Harvey, ya never know!

Here are 21 Personal Favorite Foods items on Evil Glenn's restaurant menu:

Sautéed Guadalupe Fur Seal grilled to perfection in a Musk-Ox Oil

Boneless Marinated Numbfish simmered in an Endospore Swill

Stir-Fried Screech Owl

Steamed Mud Eel Wedges wrapped in Untanned Rawhide

Caramelized Neck of Whooping Crane

Barbecued Pygmy Hippo Riblets

Breaded Filet-o-Bottle-Nosed Dolphin seasoned in a Salt Marsh Brine Broth

Batter-Dipped Segmented Earthworms

Char-Grilled Pandaburger with a side order of Cartilage Chips and Pond Scum Slaw

Crispy Bollweevil Skins served with a liquefied Elm Bark Beetle Dipping Sauce

Smoked Tenderloin Mule Shank in a tangy Cactus Gravy

Boiled Camel Hump... a la mode

Stewed Dorsal Fin garnished with Shedded Scales

Minced Otter Pelt over a bed of mashed, fleshy Tuberous Root

Glazed Walrus Blubber Loaf

Kentucky Fried Pigeon

Creamed Gastropod Surprise

Poached Bald Eaglet Yoke-Sac sprinkled with Ragwort and topped with a zesty Duckweed Dressing

Extra-Chewy Tadpole Taffy

Prairie Dog-kabob

Fermented Chum Shake

That fucking Evil Glenn! He will kill and eat anything - endangered species, exotic species, it doesn't matter. And the nastier the better... I mean... segmented earthworms?

Tomorrow, I'll tell you about Evil Glenn's newest part-time job!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on December 1 :: Permalink :: Comments (6) :: Funny Stuff
» XSet links with: Time for a round up I think
» XSet links with: Time for a round up I think
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)
» Signal + Noise links with: Insect Menagerie (Carnival 64)

Madfish Willie's Thanksgiving Weather Report

Madfish Willie's Weather Forecast For Turkey Day:

Turkeys will thaw in the morning, then warm in the oven to an afternoon high near 190F. The kitchen will turn hot and humid, and if you bother the cook, be ready for a severe squall or cold shoulder.

During the late afternoon and evening, the cold front of a knife will slice through the turkey, causing an accumulation of one to two inches on plates. Mashed potatoes will drift across one side while cranberry sauce creates slippery spots on the other. Please pass the gravy.

A weight watch and indigestion warning have been issued for the entire area, with increased stuffiness around the beltway. During the evening, the turkey will diminish and taper off to leftovers, dropping to a low of 34F in the refrigerator.

Looking ahead to Friday and Saturday, high pressure to eat sandwiches will be established. Flurries of leftovers can be expected both days with a 50 percent chance of scattered soup late in the day. We expect a warming trend where soup develops. By early next week, eating pressure will be low as the only wish left will be the bone.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 27 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff
» Wizbang links with: Bonfire of the Vanities - Week 22
» Wizbang links with: Bonfire Of The Vanities - Week 26

Precision Guided Humor

OK. That does it! Now I gotta kick Harvey's ass and straighten him out a little. He's been hanging around with the pussies at the other end of the bar too fucking long. The gaddamn Corner of the Bar Babes are tougher than he is!

Below you see how Harvey is gonna deal with war-protesters and anti-America assholes. Sit back and watch me fisk the hell out of Harvey and teach him how to deal with a bunch of fucking idiots.

Last Call »

MY NEW WORLD ORDER UNLEASHES A CAN O’WUPASS

WUPASS, my ass. More like a can of fucking whipping cream for spraying on Susie's boobies. [actually, that sounds like fun]

Ok, you assgoblin anti-war protesters, I’m gonna give you what you always wanted - I’m going to stifle your dissent, just like the tin-foil-hat-wearing panic-mongers have been claiming would always happen under the EEEEEVIL John Ashcroft. The soon-to-be-passed American Sharia laws will unleash cruel and unusual punishments for your unpatriotic displays:

A lot of sound and fury, signifying nothing!

EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY, PARTICIPATION IN ANY ANTI-WAR PROTEST ACTIVITY WILL RESULT IN PUNISHMENT ACCORDING TO THE FOLLOWING SCHEDULE:

I wish I could get as cheesy of a work schedule as he hands out for these punishments!

First offense: a dirty look

Slap the shit out him!

Second offense: a 5 minute “time out”

Knock him on his ass!

Third offense: a stern talking-to

Knock his fucking teeth down his throat!

Fourth offense: no dessert

Beat the dog shit out of him!

Fifth offense: a 10 o’clock curfew

Shoot him in the fucking knee caps!

Sixth offense: sent to your room

Stick his head down in the honeybucket for an hour or two!

Seventh offense: loss of cell phone privileges for 2 days

Stuff that phone up his ass along with my boot!

Eighth offense: When I was your age, I respected my elders!

When I was your age, I got my ass beat just for GP. Fuck him! He needs a daily ass-whuppin just for the shit he didn't get caught doing.

Ninth offense: Are you listening to me?

Huh?

Tenth offense: Fine! F*** you! You had your chance! – First, we’re gonna handcuff you to this chair and make you listen to Rush Limbaugh for 96 hours straight, then we’re gonna make you bathe WITHOUT using patchouli oil, then you'll get a haircut, a real job, and you WILL start paying rent, young man!

Shoot that bastard right between the eyes with a pig-blood-covered bullet so he doesn't get his 82 raisins in hell!

Eleventh offense: Death by Bulunga!

Fuck him, I already killed him!

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS! [sic my fucking bad ass doggie on you] « You're cut off!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 27 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

Happy Turkey Day!

On behalf of GoatHead, Kang A Roo, & Madfish Willie, The Bartender would like to wish everyone a safe and happy Thanksgiving Holiday. May the holidays find you and your family healthy and prosperous!

HAPPY

THANKSGIVING!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 26 :: Permalink :: Comments (3) :: Funny Stuff

Thanksgiving Humor

A few short jokes for your Turkey Day extravaganza!

A woman drove me to drink and I didn't even have the decency to thank her. ~WC Fields~

Did you hear about the X-rated turkey? It's served with very little dressing.

Asked to write a composition entitled, "What I'm thankful for on Thanksgiving," little Johnny wrote, "I am thankful that I'm not a turkey."

Imagine... if the Pilgrims had shot a wild cat instead of a Turkey, what would we be eating for Thanksgiving? [pussy?]

Q: What's the difference between Thanksgiving dinner and pussy?
A: You can eat your mom's thanksgiving dinner.

Q: How do you keep a turkey in suspense?
A: I'll tell you at Christmas.

Q: Why did the turkey cross the road?
A: It was the chicken's day off.

Q: What did the mother turkey say to her disobedient children?
A: If your father could see you now, he'd turn over in his gravy!

Q: What key has legs and can't open doors?
A: Tur-key.

Q: What sound does a space turkey make?
A: Hubble, hubble, hubble.

Q: Why do turkeys always go "gobble, gobble"?
A: Because they never learned good table manners!

Last Call »

A young boy, after hearing the story of Thanksgiving and how the Indians and the Pilgrims sat down together, climbed up into his father's lap and said, "Daddy, did you know that if we were Indians, you would be a brave and Mom would be a squawk?"
"That is the best description of your mother I have ever heard," replied his daddy as he ducked.

A lady was picking through the frozen turkeys at the grocery store, but couldn't find one big enough for her family. She asked the stock boy, "Do these turkeys get any bigger?" The stock boy answered, "No ma'am, they're dead."

The representative from Butterball goes to see the Pope and asks him to change the Lord's Prayer from "Give us our daily bread" to "Give us our daily turkey". The Pope says that it is impossible, but the Butterball rep says that they are prepared to give the church a billion dollars to change it. The Pope says he must discuss it with the head Cardinals. The next day he calls them all together and announces he has good news and bad news. "The good news", he begins "is that the church is to come into a billion dollars. The bad news is that we are losing the Wonderbread account!"

Have you read President Clinton's Thanksgiving Day proclamation for 2000? It includes the warning that, under penalty of fine and/or imprisonment, it is illegal for Americans to eat turkey on Thanksgiving Day as of this year.

It seems that, according to a scholar doing research at the Library of Congress on Miles Standish (one of our Pilgrim Fathers), the Pilgrims did not serve turkey at the first Thanksgiving but served wildcats.

Therefore, starting with Thanksgiving 2000, all Americans must eat pussy for Thansgiving.

The day before Thanksgiving this little boy heard his mom and dad fighting. The husband said to his wife, "You stupid bitch, you have floppy tits." She wasn't about to be outdone and said, "Well you have a crooked dick, you bastard." Well, the little boy heard every word they said. After they got done fighting, he went up to the mom and asked her what bitches and bastards were. She told him that they were people. Then he asked what crooked dicks and floppy tits were. She told him that they were coats and hats. The little boy accepted both answers and went on his way.

The next day, they were getting ready for a huge feast with friends and family. The little boy went up stairs where his dad was shaving. The dad cut himself and said "Shit!" Well once again, the boy started asking questions and asked what "shit" was. The father told him that it was "shaving cream". The boy accepted this answer and went downstairs were his mom was stuffing a turkey. When the mom cut herself with a knife, she said "Fuck!" The boy once again asked what "fuck" was. She told him that it was "stuffing". About that time, the door bell rang.

When the little boy went to answer the door, it was his grandparents. Upon opening the door, the little boy said: "Hi bitches and bastards. Let me take your crooked dicks and floppy tits for you. Dad's upstairs putting shit on his face and mom's in the kitchen fucking the turkey."

Turkey Day Humor Links:
Thanksgiving E-Cards
Brilliant and hilarious cards to send electronically to your loved ones on Turkey Day, from the very creative Modernhumorist.com.

Valerie Archer...
A collection of WAV files pertaining to Thanksgiving. A few from the
Simpsons, Bart not OJ.

Thanksgiving Excuses
A list of excuses to get away from the family after you've stuffed yourself
silly.

Cybergeek's Thanksgiving
A collection of things for webheads and cybergeeks to be thankful for.

Thanksgiving Jokes
A bit corny but some good one liners.

More Thanksgiving Humor
From laffnow.com, more jokes for turkey day.

All About Thanksgiving
A large collection of Thanksgiving content from humor to cooking to decorating and much much more. Created by About Guides and presented by New England for Visitors guide, Kim Knox Beckius.

« You're cut off!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 26 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff

Thanksgiving Week

Things To Do Thanksgiving Day If You Want To Be Excused Early:

Remind your 12 year old brother/sister that you left those condoms they asked for in the closet upstairs.

Announce that you would like to start a new family tradition, and proceed to take off your clothes at the dinner table.

Open the oven, shove hunks of velveeta into the turkey while it cooks. Tell mom it adds the coolest flavor.

Shoot olive pits at Grampa's glasses (just pinch them in your fingers and they FLY!!)

Whenever someone at the table says a word beginning with the letter R, make a loud "BUZZ"ing noise.

When it's your turn to state what you are thankful for, say "latex sheets and crisco".

Bring along old recorded football games, pop them in the VCR when Dad's not looking.

Suck your cranberry sauce loudly through a straw.

Sit at the "children's table" and lecture them on just why we need to increase the teenage pregnancy population.

Bring a date that only talks about her/his spouse at home.

As the family is being seated, shout, "Oh my Gawd, I forgot to show you all my genitalia piercing I got on Halloween!!"

Hold your nose while you eat.

Recite the tragic and abusive conditions known to exist at turkey farms.

Mid-meal turn to mom and say, "See mom, I told you they wouldn't notice, you were worried for nothing".

Load your plate up high, then take it to the kitchen, toss it all in the blender, and take your "shake" back to the table. Announce that you've got a new fear of choking.

When you arrive, promise that your date won't be more than an hour late, he/she just has to wait for the warden to get together all the necessary release forms, and then they are free to go.

During dinner, ask your brother if his mistress solved that little "dead rabbit" problem.

Turn to Dad and tell him to advise your brother, having experienced that himself.

Promise that the winner of the "wishbone tug" gets to sleep with your date. (sex/age unimportant)

Twitch a lot and nervously tell the person next to you, "THE SAFETY IS ON", while you hold your pocket.

Good Luck!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 25 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff
» Blackfive - The Paratrooper of Love links with: Tuesday Links
» Tiger: Raggin' & Rantin' links with: Why don't they ever serve Pizza?

Thanksgiving Week

In honor of the Thanksgiving Holidays this week, I'll be rotating different Thanksgiving themed backgrounds each day. How do you like this one? Looks pretty good with the rest of the page, huh? I lamost hate to rotate it out. What do you think... leave it up or rotate it?

Here are some Thanksgiving Cocktails & Liquor:

For my friends Eric, Blackfive, Graumagus and other connoisseurs of fine scotch whiskies: Glenmorangie Single Highland Malt Scotch Whisky

Rick Gobbler
1/2 oz. Wild Turkey
3/4 oz. each of Chambord, Amaretto, and Cranberry juice
Shake well with ice.
Strain into a chilled glass for a shooter, or pour over ice in a highball glass.
Garnish with a lime wedge.

Tooty Fruity Turkey
Equal parts of ;
Wild Turkey
Peach Schnapps
Orange juice
Place all in a shaker with ice.
Strain into a chilled cocktail glass or
Pour over rocks in a highball glass.

Wild Turkey 101: Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey

Wild Turkey Rare Breed: Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey

Tomorrow: Thanksgiving Humor:

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 25 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff

Thanksgiving Week

In honor of the Thanksgiving Holidays this week, I'll be rotating different Thanksgiving themed backgrounds each day. And I'll be linking Thanksgiving related posts as I run across them this week. Here are some from my collection to date:

Thanksgiving Poem:
Thanksgiving Thoughts by SilverBlue.

What To Expect:
SilverBlue tells us what he is expecting this year.

What To Do:
Thanksgiving - The Plan

Food for Thought:
Munuviana Caramel Apple Cheesecake from Jennifer.

Pumpkin Soup from Dizzy Girl.

Chocolate Chunk Cookies from SilverBlue.

Hot Virginia Dip from SilverBlue.

Snickerdoodles from Rocket Jones.

Simple Chicken Stew from Rocket Jones. [substitute turkey?]

Baked Potato Soup from Rocket Jones.

Here are some links to turkey cooking:
Turkey Cooking 101.
Turkey Basics: Safe Cooking
Thanksgiving Recipes for Dummies

Tomorrow: Thanksgiving Cocktails:

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 24 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff

Funny Friday

Madfish Willie told me to end the week off on a good note, so here's a bar joke followed by the funniest shit I could dig up around the blogosphere.

C-ing I Dog

Two guys were walking their dogs and came across a bar. Since they were hot and tired from walking the dogs they decided to go in and have a drink. Unfortunately, the bar didn't allow dogs. There was no place to safely secure the dogs, so they started thinking of ideas to get in the bar. Then one of the guys had an idea.

"Just watch me and follow my lead," he said.

He walked into the bar with his dog and the bartender stopped and said to him, "I'm sorry but I can't let you in here."

The guy looked at the bartender and asked, "Why not?"

The bartender replied, "Well, we don't allow dogs into the bar."

"But this is my seeing eye dog," the guy said.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir come on in, and by the way, nice golden retriever."

The guy went into the bar and the second guy walked in with his dog. The bartender stopped him and told him he can't let him in. When asked why not the bartender replied that you cannot have dogs in his bar.

"But this is my seeing eye dog," said the second guy.

The bartender looked at the man and then looked at the dog. After a while he said, "Sir, ah… um… a Chihuahua?"

The man looked a little puzzled and then said, "What? They gave me a Chihuahua?"

Now from around the blogosphere:

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 21 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff
» Ramblings of SilverBlue links with: Friday's Link-Luv™

Cyborg Bloggers III

C.Y.B.O.R.G. Generator: Enter your name and the Cyborger will tell you your Cyborg name and your dark purpose.

Cyborg name generator came up with these descriptive names and purposes for the members of Munuviana:

J.I.M.: Journeying Intelligent Machine
D.O.N.: Device Optimized for Nullification
T.I.M.: Troubleshooting and Infiltration Machine
T.E.D.: Troubleshooting and Exploration Device
T.O.M.: Troubleshooting and Observation Machine
S.U.S.I.E.: Synthetic Unit Skilled in Infiltration and Exploration
S.I.M.O.N.: Synthetic Intelligent Machine Optimized for Nullification
D.A.N.I.E.L.: Digital Artificial Nocturnal Infiltration and Exploration Lifeform
H.E.L.E.N.: Humanoid Engineered for Logical Exploration and Nullification
L.E.A.N.N.: Lifeform Engineered for Assassination and Nocturnal Nullification
V.I.C.T.O.R.: Vigilant Intelligent Construct Trained for Observation and Repair
C.H.E.R.R.Y.: Cybernetic Humanoid Engineered for Repair and Rational Yardwork
M.O.O.K.I.E.: Mechanical Organism Optimized for Killing and Intensive Exploration
S.T.E.V.I.E.: Synthetic Technician Engineered for Violence and Intensive Exploration
H.E.A.T.H.E.R.: Hydraulic Electronic Android Trained for Hazardous Exploration and Repair
M.R.G.R.E.E.N.: Mechanical Robotic Guardian Responsible for Exploration and Efficient Nullification
J.E.N.N.I.F.E.R.: Journeying Electronic Neohuman Normally for Intensive Fighting and Efficient Repair
K.A.N.G.A.R.O.O.: Kinetic Artificial Neohuman Generated for Accurate Repair and Online Observation
R.O.X.E.T.T.E.: Robotic Obedient Xenomorph Engineered for Troubleshooting and Terran Exploration
T.U.N.I.N.G.S.P.O.R.K.: Technician Used for Nocturnal Infiltration and Nullification/General Synthetic Person Optimized for Repair and Killing
P.I.X.Y.M.I.S.A.: Positronic Intelligent Xenomorph Yearning for Mandatory Infiltration and Scientific Assassination

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 19 :: Permalink :: Comments (5) :: Funny Stuff
» DFMoore: Pizzazz, Panache, and a Phoenix links with: Notes

New Blog Showcase

My votes for the New Blog Showcase this week are:

O.P.M.
and
Europe Hates America.

Below is a list of Alliance members that voted in last weeks showcase:

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 19 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Precision Guided Humor

This week's Precision Guided Humor Assignment at The Alliance is:

What were Uday and/or Qusay's last words?

D'oh!

I know, I know, that's really weak, but... I... I... Fuck it... I was just trying to get an entry in before the deadline and Susie and Harvey already took all the good ones, plus I love The Simpsons!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 19 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Evil Glenn Product Endorsements

The Alliance's newest assignment is to ~~make up~~ discover what products that Evil Glenn pimps as a Celebrity Endorser. Well, as I was flipping throught the Sunday paper, the one with three trees worth of crappy advertisements, I found out the Evil Glenn actually is a very prolific endorser. Here is a small sample of what I found:

Oester Blenders: The appliance of the Puppy Blender. (Evil Glenn not included)
Timex Watches: Takes a blending and but it keeps on ticking.
Coffee: Good to the last robot dance.
Blockbuster Video: This is not your father's penguin porn.
Toys R US 1: Evil Glenn tested, Mother approved.
Toys R US 2: The good penguin porn kids go for.
Stoeffers Chocolates: Chocolate blended puppies, since 1911.
Habitat for Humanity: Every hobo murdered helps.
Breakfast Cereal: Crunch all you want, we'll make puppy smoothies.
Mustard: Pardon me, do you have any grey puppy smoothies?
Foreign Products: Vorspung Durch Evil Glenn!
Foster's: Evil Glenn - Australian for Beer
First Baptist Church: It's good to talk to satan worshippers.

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 15 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Episode 0006831492

Next Up on Random Munuviana...

Airing Saturday on Peyote TV at Nap Time:
Random Munuviana Episode 0006831492.

Drop ~~that poor little monkey~~ Frank J. Time for another action packed galactic thriller. Today the tube be smokin'. Up next, Don embraces existentialist philosophy when Helen makes bizarre assertions regarding dangerous telepathic plants.

Stick around for extreme carnage when Cherry's subspace communications facility is attacked by network executives in a living alien machine. Pixy Misa torpedoes the uncooperative interlopering comment spammers into submission after agreeing to a ceasefire, saving Susie from permanent damage.

Later on, Jen goes to the med lab to avoid the extreme heat from her interview with The Bartender. Tom feels extremely manly when Tuning Spork insults Dead Meat Victor at a deafening party. Meanwhile, our bonnie Heather escapes from restrictive delusions, creating much danger for Rocket Jones.

Finally, after Tim's overtly intellectual ads for nose reductions, industrial slavery and Kang's back room adoptions, meter maid Mookie and a bunch of high school girls stand around the hidden peephole and look at Jim's hairy back, everyone has a hearty laugh and they roll the credits next to a teaser for Survivor: Blogosphere Edition on Mars.

After the show, Daniel goes to Stevie's for some fine baked taters and a bottle of cheap wine. Everyone is getting ripped and LeAnn's World of Cheese is a great place.

Original content provided by Monkey Fingers.
The story and names have been
cragerized to make it funny.

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 14 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

The New UN Motto

The Alliance assignment to ~~make up~~ discover what the new United Nations motto should be is completed. Here are the members who completed this difficult assignment and thus are granted gratuitous linkage:

Roxette of Hoppings of Roxette Bunny

SilverBlue of Ramblings of SilverBlue

The Bartender of Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon

Graumagus of Frizzen Sparks

Damon of The Dimmick Institute

Phil of Flying Chair

Susie of Practical Penumbra

Don of Anger Management

Physics Geek of physicsgeek

Tom of Tom's Nap Room

Darren of Colorado Conservative

Harvey of Bad Money

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 13 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff
» Simon World links with: Thanks

Gratuitous Linkage

[Via Harvey's post] For the third straight week, the League of Liberals has won sponsorship of the New Blog Showcase. The good news is that they were once again under 100% participation. The bad news is that the Alliance didn't take advantage of that fact, and actually saw its own participation ratio drop a bit.

I hate those friggin guys! They bite the big one... for sure... those cheating bastards!

Anyway, here is some gratuitous linkage for The Alliance members that voted this week!

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 11 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Newsflash: The Alliance

It looks like there is a lot of action over at The Alliance HQ this week.

Don has Survivor: The Blog Edition up and running.

I post a link to some Blog Tips from Living Room >> a space for life.

Trey Givens posts another Filthy Lie

Heather posts an observation about the LoL and reminds members to vote in The New Blog Showcase.

Blackfive reminds everyone to send their posts for The Hunting of the Snark, Bonfire of the Vanities and Carnival of the Vanities.

Harvey has gathered more Evil Glenn Quotes ~~Lies~~ - check the extended entry to read them all. My favorites from the new batch are:

Tom's Nap Room: Glenn Reynolds says: "I drink Michelob Ultra because I am a pussy who can't hold his liquor"

annika's journal: "The force is strong within that young Skywalker chick." - Darth Reynolds

Last Call »

The Wise Man Says: "I get all my pithy remarks and best inspirations from this guy" -- Glenn Reynolds

Various Orthodoxies: I heard it from a friend, of a friend, that Glenn said, "I would be Frank, if I were a rich man, be diddy diddy diddy diddy diddy diddy diddy dum"

Tom's Nap Room: Glenn Reynolds says: "I drink Michelob Ultra because I am a pussy who can't hold his liquor"

BigStick.US: "This blog is the M. Bison to my Dhalsim!" - Glenn Reynolds

Grim's Hall: "Bache, bene venies!" - The Sage of Knoxville

Idiot Villager - ""I may pretend to be an expert on current events, but Marc Scribner is the real deal." - Glenn Reynolds

the evangelical outpost: "Quite possibly the smartest blogger on the planet. Carter saved my marriage." - Glenn Reynolds, unrepentant heathen

An Englishman's Castle: Glenn Reynolds Says - "Remember that you are an Englishman, and have therefore won first prize in the lottery of life."

Patriot Paradox: What Glenn Reynold's Says About Patriot Paradox - "Why this blog? Why now?"

Flying Chair: Glenn Renolds - "I so want to have this guy's kids."

Being English in New York: "I acquired a taste for English puppies on a recent vacation; I recommend that you blend them with a blackcurrant sauce though since they're quite gamey" - Glenn Reynolds

Frizzen Sparks: "Those who would assult helpless hobos must always be in fear of Graumagus breaking open a cask of whomp arse opon them." - Glenn Reynolds

Elegance Against Ignorance: 'I'm a monkey - a monkey I tell you!' -- A real ~~fake~~ Glenn Reynolds quote

VRWC, Inc.: "James Finch and his operation, VRWC Inc, is the shiznit in every sense of the word." - Glenn Reynolds

Anti-Anti-Flag.com: "I kill hobos while listening to Anti-Flag!" - Glenn Renyolds

Aimless: "When I need a break from my evil ways, I wander over to Aimless." - Glenn Reynolds

annika's journal: "The force is strong within that young Skywalker chick." - Darth Reynolds

If I missed a quote that you've added since October 26 (and you weren't included in one of the mini-roundups), leave a comment or drop me a line at harvolson@charter.net.

If you still don't have a fake Glenn Reynolds quote on your blog, then you are naughty, and you will be spanked. Unless you like that sort of thing, in which case your punishment will be not getting spanked.

INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!

« You're cut off!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 10 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

Evil Glenn Personals Ad

In an effort to try to slow down Evil Glenn, The Alliance has decided to help him find a ~~woman~~ mate. We figure that taking care of his ~~woman~~ mate should take some of his evil time away from him and save the puppies from horrible death by blending. So, here is a personal ad that I worked up to help him find his dream ~~woman~~ mate.

~~Charming~~ S P Metrosexual ~~Blogger~~ searching for S P M F Metrosexual. Ages 8 to 80; Blind, crippled or crazy; ~~I don't care.~~ Any race, color, or creed. ~~I'm not picky.~~ ~~Most~~ All teeth and most hair ~~expecially legs and underarms~~ preferred ~~optional~~. Must be adept at operating all ~~models of blenders~~ kitchen appliances. Must know how to pre-treat to get those hard to remove ~~hobo and puppy blood~~ stains out of laundry. Must like to stay home and watch ~~pengiun porn~~ movies. Must like the smell of ~~murdered hobos~~ hippies. Must be a ~~satan-worshipping~~ god-fearing person. Must be a ~~commie bitch~~ far-left-wing ~~looney~~ liberal. Must have an extensive ~~heh, indeed~~ volcabulary and talent for writing blog taglines. Must be into ~~punching Frank J~~ physical activity and exercise. Must love sailing and poetry. Must love ~~kangaroos humping~~ all animals, including snakes. Must like to go to ~~Madfish Willie's~~ bars and ~~do the robot~~ disco dance. Above all, must like ~~blending puppies~~ stroking little kittens!

INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 9 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

Ode To Evil Glenn

The Alliance assigment for poetry titled "An Ode To Glenn Reynolds" is completed.

This is the final listing of The Alliance members to complete this assignment and recieve gartutitous linkage! Go over to these people sites and read their odes to Evil Glenn! [There's some pretty good stuff here, really.]

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 9 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

UN Motto

The Alliance newest assignment is asking for our ideas of what the United Nations motto should be.

The United Nations:
France's answer to the UNilateral actions by the US

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 9 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Anagrams

I followed a link from As I See It.. to Babalu Blog to Wordsmith.Org. This is a site that will generate anagrams for any word or phrase you type in their data box.

I typed in blogosphere, and this is a partial result:

BEER HOG SLOP

BEER HOG LOPS

BEER HOGS POL

BEER HOGS LOP

BEER GOSH POL

BEER GOSH LOP

BEER LOG POSH

BEER LOG HOPS

BEER LOG SHOP

BEER LOGS HOP

BEER SLOG HOP

BEERS HOG POL

BEERS HOG LOP

BEERS LOG HOP

I knew there was a reason I needed to be hanging around the blogosphere!

Be warned!

The more characters that you input, the longer the anagram list will be!

Have Fun!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 7 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff
» Munuviana links with: Susie Spouts Off

Frizzen Sparks

A big hearty Welcome to The Alliance's newest member: Frizzen Sparks.

Just came back from a visit to his site... nice design and layout... Evil Glenn Filthy Lie... good Glenn Reynolds quote... interesting posts... some ranting and raving... in short, my kind of blogger!

So go over and visit Graumagus and leave some comments on his stuff so he know's you went by to check it out!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 6 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Episode 0006846668

Next Up on Random Munuviana...

Airing Friday on PalmNet at Sunup:
Random Munuviana Episode 0006846668.

Hold onto yer seat. Get ready for Random Munuviana. With yet another formulaic cheeseball space based thriller. Rocket Jones, will soil his shorts from happiness. Doctor Jennifer fears flying when Susie's changeling spy bids on LeAnn's valuable antique trinket.

Later on, Comm Officer Simon goes to the science lab to satisfy a sexy robot. Don feels giddy when Borg Queen Helen date rapes Jim at a comedic interlude. Meanwhile, Borg defectors escape from the Continuum, causing painful hives and extreme agitation for Mookie Riffic and Pixy Misa.

The screen drips blood when a cluster of space-based energy systems is attacked by giant insects in a heavily armored Battle Star. Captain Cherry Rambling weasels the arrogant attackers into withdrawl while drinking vodka and playing Russian Roulette with The Michagander and loaded phasers, saving a bullet riddled escape pod from being auctioned out to Stevie as scrap metal.

Finally, after a string of painfully obnoxious ads for Brylcreem, Tom's ass waxing and Kinko the Clown, the ship's jock, Tiger, stand around the voyeur-cam and look at the Heather's trashy fishnet stockings, everyone has a hearty laugh and they roll the credits next to a teaser for Publious & Co.

After the show, the resident groupies go to The Blather Review for some laughs and a little shade. Everyone is blissfully dreaming and the Pepperoni Pizzazz's bum-covered sidewalk is a great place.

Content provided by Monkey Fingers.
The names have been cragerized
to try to make it funny.

Cheers!

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 6 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

An Ode To Glenn Reynolds

The Alliance wants to gather some Evil Glenn Poetry.

Well, there's no way I could produce anything like what Susie did in an Ode to Glenn Reynolds. Instead, I chose to cheat and Google for my entry. I came across this little gem that gives one possible explanation for puppy blending and not kitty blending!

Puppy Haiku
The cat is not all

Bad. She fills the litter box

With Tootsie Rolls.

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 5 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Gratuitous Linkage

These are The Alliance members that voted in The New Blog Showcase last week. Harvey is trying to encourage aal alliance members to vote so we can regain the sponsorship for the hated League of Liberals. So I am going with Harvey's lead in case we don't have a total duplication of readers.

If you see a link to a site you haven't read before, go on over and take a look. If, it's not your bottle of beer, don't go back.

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on November 4 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff

Happy Halloween!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Venoumous Kate Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 31 :: Permalink :: Comments (7) :: Funny Stuff

Evil Glenn's Halloween Costume

The Alliance wants to know what Evil Glenn's Halloween plans are. Well, I'll tell you that later... right now I have found out what his ~~puppy killing disguise~~ halloween costume will be. So be on the look-out for this: Evil Glenn Costume

[ Drink Alert in effect ]

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 31 :: Permalink :: Comments (4) :: Funny Stuff
» BigStick.us links with: OMG PERMALINKS
» BigStick.us links with: OMG PERMALINKS

Episode 0006824377

Next Up on Random Munuviana...

Airing Wednesday on Kosher Zombie TV at full moon:
Random Munuviana Episode 0006824377.

Touch prefrontal lobes for another half hard space drama. Tonight's episode. Ted hallucinates when a floating fat man molests a box of amusing artifacts.

Later on, Doctor Jennifer goes to a highspeed shuttle to find the enemy base. Tiger feels empowered when Tim disfigures The Borg Queen at a rare photo opportunity. Meanwhile, Victor (Oh my g-d, they killed Dead Meat)'s lice-infested flying pigs escape from confining religious delusion, causing nightmares for Leann.

You'll love the bloodshed when Chuck's energy relay station is attacked by black Nazi Burger Queen in a living alien transit device. Pixy Misa blasts the hostile forces into withdrawl after dodging inside a dense metallic asteroid, saving Susie's badly designed transport vehicle from certain destruction.

Finally, after a generous slew of ads for Cherry's aging phone sluts, Don's monkey glands, and Jim's ant farms, some electricians and a couple of the Munuvian body doubles stand around the secret mirror and look at Jennifer's fetish vinyl, everyone has a hearty laugh and they roll the credits next to a teaser for the Donald Trump execution.

After the show, the model makers go to Helen's for corn dogs and a blow job. Everyone is growing extra sets of arms and Mookie Riffic's blue planet is a great place.

Content provided by Monkey Fingers.
The names have been cragerized
to try to make it funny.

Cheers!

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 31 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

Episode 0006821512

Random Munuviana

Airing Monday on Channel Gone at Bottle Time:
Random Munuviana Episode 0006821512.

Tune in for Random Munuviana. Yet another reason you should go buy a Writers Noose. Your hacker stupor clears as Jennifer learns to hate space when an insane scientist lies to try and get several dangerous telekinetic midgets from the M4 cluster.

Later on, Mookie goes to neutral space to find some batteries. The Borg Queen feels weak at the knees when Helen sucks Don at a kinky sex encounter. Meanwhile, corrupt executives escape from dead end careers, causing crossed eyes and hair loss for Cherry.

Feel the terror of a near collision when an inhabited mining complex is attacked by doped-up xenophobic mercenary warriors, led by Pixy Misa, in a pair of time skipping battleships. Tuning Spork blasts the ignorant invaders into withdrawal while reciting the Iliad and drinking Scotch, saving LeAnn from becoming Ensign Dead Meat.

Finally, after several insultingly vapid ads for weight loss clinics, disposable diapers and Thorazine crisps, Simon and Jim stand around the hidden peephole and look at Space Babe Helen's naked curves, everyone has a hearty laugh and they roll the credits next to a teaser for Tom's Nap Room.

After the show, the camera crew goes to The Practical Penumbra for a Dew and a little abuse. Everyone is fat an' fucked up and the eleventh Michigander dimensional universe is a great place.

Content provided by Monkey Fingers.
The names have been changed to convict the guilty.

Cheers!

Last Call »

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 30 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff

Episode 0006815992

Warning!!! Warning!!! Warning!!!
Output may contain crude language, adult themes,
sexual innuendo or necro-bestiality. Never can tell.
May cause hair loss in test animals, dry mouth, vertigo, or night sweats.

Next Up on Random Munuviana...

Airing Tuesday on Psychic-Net at 'Bout Zero Hour:
Random Munuviana Episode 0006815992.

Get ready for another exciting episode. This time, our hero Tuning Spork gets the space clap when an intolerant nine hundred pound military dictator takes possesion of a jar of defective human brains.

Later on, Mr Green goes to Tom's Nap Room to get the orbital parking validated. Pixy Misa feels discorporate when Jennifer eats Tim at a sentient nanophysics class. Meanwhile, photonic life forms escape from the vortex, causing nightmares for Jim.

Action builds to a climax when a remote fuel depot is attacked by malfunctioning Borg warriors in a living alien machine. Don talks the destructive space pirates into withdrawl while threatening self destruction, saving a refugee barge from slow death.

Finally, after a generous slew of ads for infanticide, ass waxing and fabric softener, some dorky technicians stand around the secret mirror and look at Susie's naked breasts, everyone has a hearty laugh and they roll the credits next to a teaser for the Bill Clinton Execution.

After the show, the actors go to Munuviana for fine cookin' and a bit of fun. Everyone is morphing into giant insects and the future is a great place.

Content provided by Monkey Fingers.
The names have been changed to convict the guilty.

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 29 :: Permalink :: Comments (6) :: Funny Stuff

I have a horrible habit

I have a horrible habit that I cannot seem to break. I cuss worse than a sailor. As a matter of fact, sailors run the other way when they hear me coming. Shit, crap, piss, bitch, prick, cock-sucker, muther-fucker, asshole, fuck, dick,...

When I ran across this article, it was too good not to share with everyone, that is unless Jennifer hasn't already done it.

The Historical Origin Of The Middle Finger

by Rich Dunn

Before the Battle of Agincourt in 1415, the French, anticipating victory over the English, proposed to cut off the middle finger of all captured English soldiers. Without the middle finger, it would be impossible to draw the renowned English longbow and therefore be incapable of fighting in the future.

This famous weapon was made of the native English Yew tree, and the act of drawing the longbow was known as "plucking the yew." Much to the bewilderment of the French, the English won a major upset and began mocking the French by waving their middle fingers at the defeated French,saying, "See, we can still pluck yew! PLUCK YEW!"

Over the years, some 'folk etymologies' have grown up around this symbolic gesture. Since 'pluck yew' is rather difficult to say (like "pleasant mother pheasant plucker", which is who you had to go to for the feathers used on the arrows for the longbow), the difficult consonant cluster at the beginning has gradually changed to a labiodental fricative 'F', and thus the words often used in conjunction with the one-finger-salute are mistakenly thought to have something to do with an intimate encounter.

It is also because of the pheasant feathers on the arrows that the symbolic gesture is known as "giving the bird."

Now you know!

Fuck You! and Fuck You!

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 29 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Evil Glenn Quotes

Harvey at Bad Money has compiled all of the Evil Glenn Reynolds Quotes posted by Alliance members on their blogs as a requirement of membership. They are posted over at The Alliance HQ page.

My favorite is, of course, mine.

Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon - "If I were half the mixologist that The Bartender is, I wouldn't be blogging" -- Glenn Reynolds

Next, I like these:

Physicsgeek - "The Physics Geek is a nerdy fellow with absolutely no socially redeeming qualities. It's like I'm looking in a mirror." - Glenn Reynolds

The Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler - "The Emperor's unstoppable might is the reason that no puppy blender can feel secure." - Glenn Reynolds.

There are many more to laugh at... Go on over and check it out!

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 28 :: Permalink :: Comments (1) :: Funny Stuff

Lessons From Teddy

The Alliance wants to know what life lessons I have learned from Ted Kennedy? Well, he taught me several things, some of which have come in very handy in dealing with life's everyday problems. He's given me lessons on everyday skills, lessons for personal safety and well-being, lessons that I should ignore and lessons that I never intend to forget.

Then, he taught me how to swim.

Then, he taught me how to lie.

Then, he taught me how to get away with stuff.

Then, he taught me how to be fat pig.

Then, he taught me that he knows what's better for me than I do myself.

Last, but not least, he taught me to order doubles!

Cheers

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 28 :: Permalink :: Comments (4) :: Funny Stuff

Random Madfish TV

Warning!!! Warning!!! Warning!!!
Output may contain crude language, adult themes,
sexual innuendo or necro-bestiality. Never can tell.
May cause hair loss in test animals, dry mouth, vertigo, or night sweats.

Next Up on Random Madfish...

Airing Monday on PoNet at Closing Time:
Random Madfish Episode 0006812860.

Stop that snoring, hoser. It's time for painfully predictable space melodrama. Watch in horror as Grand Nagus Frank J talks smack when an expendable bit player, aka the guy in the red shirt, bids on some infected alien undies.

Later on, Doc Russia goes to the ice planet to get some privacy. Romulas feels seriously hungover when Doctor Who flogs Dana at a lesbian sushifest. Meanwhile, some fatassed crack smoking politicians escape from lockdown, making a mess for Serenity.

Stay around for jiggly camera work when Madfish Willie's is attacked by black Nazis in an organic battle craft. Harvey confuses the dangerous aggressors into withdrawl by threatening castration and endless torture for the attackers, saving a drifting space station from curvy space and air sickness.

Finally, after a few gazillion ads for home lyposuction kits, disposable diapers and pepper spray, a bunch of dykes from engineering stand around the video console and look at a kinky bimbo's tattooed boobs, everyone has a hearty laugh and they roll the credits next to a teaser for Class of Nuke 'em High.

After the show, the camera crew goes to the Mamamontezz' place for a nice apple pie and a little abuse. Everyone is brushing and flossing and the planet Houston is a great place.

Content provided by Monkey Fingers.
The names have been changed to convict the guilty.

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 28 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Random Madfish TV

Warning!!! Warning!!! Warning!!!
Output may contain crude language, adult themes,
sexual innuendo or necro-bestiality. Never can tell.
May cause hair loss in test animals, dry mouth, vertigo, or night sweats.

Next Up on Random Madfish...

Airing Sunday on your Brain Implant TV at Midnight:
Random Madfish pisode 0006811505.

Stay tuned for Random Madfish. With yet another formulaic cheeseball space based thriller. Today's episode. Lord Spatula I joins a cult when an expendable bit player has crazy ideas about modified human body parts.

Later on, Straight White Guy goes to the Continuum to beat the snot out of an old enemy. Linda K feels strangely invincible when The Borg Queen eats Serenity at a weird little vacation planet. Meanwhile, Jem'Hadar killers escape from Borg space, causing angst and loathing for Harvey and Rocket Jones.

See guts and brains on the walls when a subspace communications facility is attacked by doped up gangsters in a living alien machine. Blackfive phasers the violent cretins into withdrawl through sheer luck and brinksmanship, saving a struggling NCC 1701 from bad hibbidy-jibbidy and vampires.

Finally, after several aesthetically deafening ads for moldy oldie CD collections, disposable diapers and personal trainers, Harvey and Rocket Jones stand around the remote viewscreen and look at a FINE bimbo's sleeping quarters, everyone has a hearty laugh and they roll the credits next to a teaser for Insomniac Cannibal Theater.

After the show, the crew goes to the Champagne Room for sizzlin' hog jowls and a little leather. Everyone is insured for millions and the boundless void is a great place.

Content provided by Monkey Fingers.
The names have been changed to convict the guilty.

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 27 :: Permalink :: Comments (2) :: Funny Stuff

Madfish Willie's Halloween Party!

Every year for Halloween, we decorate the joint real scary-like, put on some ghoulish costumes and try to scare the crap out of everybody that walks in the door. I'll be posting about Halloween ralated stuff all week - Jack-O-Lanterns, costumes, trick or treats, and all that kind of neat crap. Here is the first frightnening installment of hell week!

Starting the week off, SilverBlue wants to know how you spend your Halloween.

Psycho Dad at Psychtic Rants found some cool Jack-O-Lanterns that were involved somehow in an Evil Glenn Filthy Lie. Apparently, Evil Glenn was playing grab ass of some sort and this is the end result.

Candy, a Corner of the Bar Babe, from Candy Universe has a really cool looking poll thingy in her sidebar. Go vote and check out Evil Glenn's Halloween pics!

Simon of Simon's World explains the Australian traditions of Halloween.

Still hunting for that fantastic costume idea so you can win the big prize? SilverBlue has some great costume ideas and links to some better ideas at CostumeIdeaZone. He then proceeeds to tell us why you won't win. What an asshole! He makes up by suppling us with this cartoon and this Wonder Woman photo.

Physics Geek, Madfish Willie's Official Brewmeister, pours us a double strength post with 15 reasons Halloween is better than sex and 10 things that sound dirty but aren't.

Captain Awesome at Boat Drinks has candy, costumes, horror movie marathions, special halloween episodes and everything else going on this year.

Caleb at Caleb Walker has a link to HellStop.

Then there's candy: Happy Hulk Halloween, Heather of Angleweave has a diet alternative, and Jennifer from Jennifer's History & Stuff has a yummy recipe for Caramel Apple Cheesecake!

To decorate your site, you can download this really cool script of flying ghosts!!!

That's it for this scary edition of Halloween posts. Tomorrow we'll get in to extreme pumpkin carving and tips from the pros!

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 27 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

We all know Murphy's Law

We all know Murphy's Law as: "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong!" Well Murphy has some other laws, too!

MURPHY'S OTHER LAWS

1. Everyone has a photographic memory. Some don't have film.

2. He who laughs last, thinks slowest.

3. A day without sunshine is like, well, night.

4. Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

5. Back up my hard drive ? How do I put it in reverse ?

6. I just got lost in thought. It was unfamiliar territory.

7. When the chips are down, the buffalo is empty.

8. Seen it all, done it all. Can't remember most of it.

9. Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don't.

10. I feel like I'm diagonally parked in a parallel universe.

11. He's not dead. He's electroencephalographically challenged.

12. She's always late. In fact, her ancestors arrived on the "Juneflower."

13. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be misquoted and used against you.

14. I wonder how much deeper the ocean would be without sponges ?

15. Honk if you love peace and quiet.

16. Pardon my driving, I'm reloading.

17. Despite the cost of living, have you noticed how it remains so popular ?

18. Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently talented fool.

19. It is hard to understand how a cemetery can raise its burial costs and blame it on the higher cost of living.

20. Just remember if the world didn't suck, we'd all fall off.

21. The 50-50-90 rule: Anytime you have a 50-50 chance of getting something right, there's a 90% probability you'll get it wrong.

22. It is said that if you line up all the cars in the world end to end, someone would be stupid enough to try and pass them.

23. You can't have everything. Where would you put it ?

24. Latest survey shows that 3 out of 4 people make up 75% of the world population.

25. If the shoe fits, get another one just like it.

26. The things that come to those that wait may be the things left by those who got there first.

27. Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach a man to fish and he will sit in a boat all day drinking.

28. Flashlight: A case for holding dead batteries.

29. The shin bone is a device for finding furniture.

30. A fine is a tax for doing wrong. A tax is a fine for doing well.

31. It was recently discovered that research causes cancer in rats.

32. Everybody lies, but it doesn't matter since nobody listens.

33. I wished the buck stopped here, as I could use a few.

34. I started out with nothing, and I still have most of it.

35. When you go into court, you are putting yourself in the hands of 12 people who weren't smart enough to get out of jury duty.

36. Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

Actually, I think we should all get together and beat the crap out of Murphy for even bringing this shit up!

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 25 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Precison Guided Humor

I recently had the distinktion of being selected to be an awards presenter at the Internet Blogosphere Awards Presentation and Slobberfest. As repulsed as I was at being given this dubious honor, I showed up and did my duty - but not before downing a couple of my famous Ultimate Martinis!

The award I presented was the Epimenides' Paradox Award. Last year's winner was Al Franken for Lying Liars and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them (or whatever that piece of crap book was named).

This award celebrates the ananias, the falsifier, the fibber, the fibster, the perjurer, the prevaricator, the storyteller, and well... big fat fucking liars. This year's nominees were Michael Moore and... Shit, he was such a big, fat, lying turd, no one else had room to enter.

So when I announced Michael Moore as the winner, I thought I would give him a little spoonful o' his own medicine and go off on my own rant:

You were a crack baby, severely retarded, hardly a looker. You are a borderline cretin, a socially maladjusted parasite, an ill-mannered, undereducated piece of white trash maggot-infested butt-fucking bed-wetting asshat. You are a howling, drunken, fat slob dancing about. You are one huge, corrupt, incestuous orgy of mutual masturbatory orgies. You syphilitic sow. You should be driven into a building, then blown up and buried under 50 ft of dirt and covered with pig shit. You have an IQ slightly above that of room-temperature butter which makes trying to hold a decent argument like kicking a cripple. You despicable, depraved, amoral slug. Anybody can bitch and moan, but few really have the answers, so go ahead and shove that gerbil up your Hilter-kissing, butt-fucking, skinhead-licking, sheep-fucking, small-impaired, desperatly seeking real contact, grasping stupid ass! You syphlitic, neutered, weiner-doggy with worms. You have the creative abilities of a bucket of okra. You are neurally-deficient, morally challenged colon polyp. You are like some cheesy advertizement jingle you can't get out of your head. Ack! You are like watching old ladies at the casino, working the slot machines for the big score but instead of using up their quarters, they're using up their credibility. You are lots of burps and fart noises, signifying nothing. There's a special place in hell for ogres like you. You are like a spoiled teenager begging for attention. You are very boring, whiny and utterly unfunny. Strange that you have't blown your bitter little brains out by now, given your decidedly limited and amoral worldview.

Ya wanna know the funny thing about the whole episode?

I got a standing ovation!

SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 16 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Texas Talking

>

Here in Texas, everything IS bigger and better! We even have own own vocabulary called: Texas Talkin'

Here's what the heck we mean in the Lone Star State...

The engine's runnin' but ain't nobody driving = Not too smart

As welcome as a skunk at a lawn party = An unwelcome person

Tighter than bark on a tree = Stingy

Big hat, no cattle = All talk, no action

We've howdied but we ain't shook yet = We've met, but haven't been formally introduced

He thinks the sun come up just to hear him crow = He thinks his s#%! doesn't stink

She's got tongue enough for ten rows of teeth = She's a talker

It's so dry the trees are bribin' the dogs = Rain would be nice

Just because a chicken has wings doesn't mean it can fly = Appearances can be deceiving

This ain't my first rodeo = I've been around the block

He looks like the dog's been keepin' him under the porch = U-G-L-Y

They ate supper before they said grace = They're living in sin

Time to paint your butt white and run with the antelope = Stop arguing and do as you're told

As full of wind as a corn-eating horse = A braggart

You can put your boots in the oven, but that doesn't make them biscuits = You can say whatever you want, but that doesn't change a thing

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 16 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

I love Monte Python &

I love Monte Python & The Holy Grail! [Check out the link on the sidebar]

I had two assistant managers working for me one time that could quote entire scenes from the movie. After work, we would usually head over to my place and drink, smoke, watch a flick till we passed out. They were two funny sumbitches! Whatever happened to those guys? Tell 'em thay need to check in, dammit!

When I saw this Quizilla quiz, I just had to take it.

King

You are King Arthur of the Britons!
You like to hear yourself talk a lot, namely about
some damn grail. Those closest to you are just
there to serve you and bang your coconuts
together. For some reason Mystical beings come
to you and set you out on quests. If only more
people understood you, perhaps you'd get that
grail afterall.

What Monty Python Holy Grail Quest Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

It's GOOD to be The King!

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 15 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Evil Glenn's Tagline

I'm back and I'm all better now. Now, where was I? That's right, Evil Glenn's tagline.

I was closing the joint up one night last week, I think it was Thursday. I heard a loud bang outside and went to investigate. There I found, all by itself beside the front door, what looked like a small music box. I picked it up and hurried back inside. Safely inside, I locked the doors and gazed at the frail little wooden box. Turning it around, I located a button. I thought to myself, 'Self, this button surely must turn the music box on'. I pressed the button. It vibrated out of my hands and dropped to the floor, somehow not splintering into bits and pieces, and landed on it's base. That's when it happened!

JOHN EMDALL, a dreadlocked woman in a silver uniform appeared to me in a weird column of light and said:

JOHN EMDALL: Salutations, great Bartender. I am John Emdall, from Planet Ten. A common grave danger confronts both our worlds. After a bloody reign of terror the hated leader of our military caste, the self-proclaimed Evil Lord Glenn Reynolds, a bloodthirsty butcher as evil as your Hitler was overthrown by freedom-loving forces, tried, and condemned, along with several hundred of his followers, to spend eternity in the formless void of the 8th dimension. Death was deemed too good for them. Now, you, bloggers, have unintentionally helped Evil Glenn with your internet oscillation overthruster. For our intelligence warns us he intends to steal your overthruster. If he should attempt this, we will have no choice but to disrupt world-wide internet communications, and fire a particle beam weapon from your airspace to Smolensk, in the Union of the Soviet Socialist Republics.

THE BARTENDER: (alarmed) That's an action the Kremlin would most certainly misinterpret as an American first strike! They're already a little trigger-happy as it is!

JOHN EMDALL: Stop... Evil... Glenn... before sun... sets! If you fail, we will be forced to help you destroy yourselves.

There you have it - straight from the Black Lectroid's mouth.

Evil Glenn is an Evil Red Lectroid from Planet 10 and wants to take over the world's internet communications via the internet oscillation overthruster and thereby Rule The World!

Oh yeah... His tagline reads:

Must.Have.Internet.Oscillation.Overthruster

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 15 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Fuck!

>[This quiz just about says it all!]

fuck

your fuck.

What swear word are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

ROFLMAO!!

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 13 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

THE ANTI-IDIOTARIAN IMPERIAL COCKTAIL PARTY

I was finishing up some posts on Saturday night, so I decided to drop by The Loyal Citizen AIM Chatroom - Where the VRWC Conspires. The topics of conversations over are vast and varied. The topic somehow got turned to drinking, what people's favorite drinks, liquor, cocktails, etc. were. Someone brought up cocktails for Saudis! And away we went... Great hilarity and mass spewage ensued. By the end, everyone was ROFLTAO - couldn't type, couldn't spell, couldn't breath - laughing.too.hard.

Here are some of the drinks we determined the Saudi would drink:

Turbin Twister

Mecca Surprize

Baghdad Buzzsaw

Bloody Imam

Mad Mullah

Medina Sunrise

Fuzzy Goat Butt: Mad Dog 20/20, poured into Helen Thomas' navel

Saudi Sunrise: Camel Piss /w Sand

Sex With A Goat: Mountain Dew /w Prune Juice

One Eyed Cleric (Mullah Omar): Needs Recipe

Misha suggested we come up with a recipe for the One Eyed Cleric. So, how about this;

If that doesn't make you walk around in a circle with one eye closed, a patch over your other eye and a towel on your head... nothing will!

The Bartender says: drop on by the chat room for The Anti-Idiotarian Cocktail Party some time - lots of fine folks with strong opinions - and not afraid to let you know what they are! Good Times...Great fun!!

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 12 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

3 little words that will

3 little words that will get guys slapped!

By Margot Carmichael Lester

If only there were a switch men could flip before they opened their mouths and said something completely off-putting. If only someone could invent an early warning system to reside in men's minds and alert them before they uttered something inane or offensive. Why aren't the big brains working on that?

Now, I'm not saying that women are always articulate. I'm not saying we never take a verbal misstep that can send a fella running screaming from the room. But after years of study, it appears to me that men are more likely than women to run off at the mouth in the most unflattering ways.

So until someone figures out how to keep gents from going off half-cocked, as it were, I offer these 10 dodgey lines as examples of what to avoid:

1. "Come here often?" Please. This is so hackneyed that even if you actually want to know, it's going to send the wrong signal. All this line does is make you appear totally incapable of an original thought.

2. "Are those real?" Curiosity killed the cat. It also just killed your chances with her, unless she's a total bimbo.

"The rule of thumb should be, 'If you have to ask, the answer is probably no,'" counsels Becky, 33. "And you should never ask. Wait for your chance to find out first-hand."

3. "What's your sign?" Hello? It's the 21st century. You're probably still wearing that nifty polyester disco suit or a turtleneck sweater and belted leather jacket. Unless you're at a theme party or a retro bar, this line screams, "Hi, I'm a walking clichÃ(c)."

4. "My wife's away." Quick. Duck and cover.

"This line â€" and the guy who says it â€" is an accident waiting to happen," quips Magda, 43.

5. "Are you pregnant?" Nothing good will come from this â€" ever.

6. "Who's your daddy?" Someone please retire this one.

"Where do guys get the idea that women dig this line?" wonders Trina, 29. "Have you ever met a women who gets turned on by it? Of course not!"

The Bartender says: I don't see what's wrong with #6... at the right time, in the right place. Hehehe!

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 10 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

3 Little Words

>3 little words that will get guys slapped!

By Margot Carmichael Lester

If only there were a switch men could flip before they opened their mouths and said something completely off-putting. If only someone could invent an early warning system to reside in men's minds and alert them before they uttered something inane or offensive. Why aren't the big brains working on that?

Now, I'm not saying that women are always articulate. I'm not saying we never take a verbal misstep that can send a fella running screaming from the room. But after years of study, it appears to me that men are more likely than women to run off at the mouth in the most unflattering ways.

So until someone figures out how to keep gents from going off half-cocked, as it were, I offer these 10 dodgey lines as examples of what to avoid:

1. "Come here often?" Please. This is so hackneyed that even if you actually want to know, it's going to send the wrong signal. All this line does is make you appear totally incapable of an original thought.

2. "Are those real?" Curiosity killed the cat. It also just killed your chances with her, unless she's a total bimbo.

"The rule of thumb should be, 'If you have to ask, the answer is probably no,'" counsels Becky, 33. "And you should never ask. Wait for your chance to find out first-hand."

3. "What's your sign?" Hello? It's the 21st century. You're probably still wearing that nifty polyester disco suit or a turtleneck sweater and belted leather jacket. Unless you're at a theme party or a retro bar, this line screams, "Hi, I'm a walking cliché."

4. "My wife's away." Quick. Duck and cover.

"This line — and the guy who says it — is an accident waiting to happen," quips Magda, 43.

5. "Are you pregnant?" Nothing good will come from this — ever.

6. "Who's your daddy?" Someone please retire this one.

"Where do guys get the idea that women dig this line?" wonders Trina, 29. "Have you ever met a women who gets turned on by it? Of course not!"

The Bartender says: I don't see what's wrong with #6... at the right time, in the right place. Hehehe!

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 10 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

.FILTHY LIES: PUPPY JOKES BY

.

FILTHY LIES: PUPPY JOKES BY EVIL GLENN
What do dogs have that no other animal has ?

Why is it called a "litter" of puppies ?

What looks like a dog, sounds like a dog, eats like a dog, but isn't a dog?

What did Evil Glenn sing when he found his slippers chewed up by the new puppy ?

What do you call a litter of young dogs who have come in from the snow ?

What would you call a nine day old dog in Russia?

What should you know before you teach your puppy a new trick?

Where do you usually find puppys?

How is a puppy like a penny?

How long are a puppy's legs?

Evil Glenn answers these questions in the comments.

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 9 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

This is what I would

This is what I would say if I had the floor at a Jacques Chirac press conference.

[Drink Alert is in effect for the remainer of this post.]

JACQUES CHIRAC IS A TROLL AND MUST DIE!

Thou hast forsaken me! Mine hatred of thee is pure and all-consuming. Now thou shalt taste the wrath of a Viking unavenged!

Hither and yon, thine creamy center will squish with greater glee than a pair of over-cooked rice balls! Lo, the overly-shiney Tricycle of Death comes to cart thy soul to the Monkey House! I shalt smite thine grandmother's stockings with more force than a polyp-bottomed Hungarian goat-herd on Tuesday! Behold, mine Fists of Justice greet thy face with a dozen roses and an unceremonious root canal! I will pelt thee with little packets of unpronounceable imported cheese! I shall flatten thee until thou can be used to store mine stock portfolio. I shall frappe thine entrails and paint thee tombstone with glitter! I shall force thee to wear thine dog's ass for a feedbag. Ye just wait til mine fuzzy rubber chicken gets through with thee! Odin calls upon Loyal Citizens to rise up and wield your mightiest weapons of destruction against this evil pretender!

[By this time, I'm really pissed off. I really let him have it. I give him The Ultimate Insult]

You were a crack baby, severely retarded, hardly a looker. You are a borderline cretin, a socially maladjusted parasite, an ill-mannered, undereducated piece of white trash maggot-infested butt-fucking bed-wetting asshat. You are a howling, drunken, fat slob dancing about. You are one huge, corrupt, incestuous orgy of mutual masturbatory orgies. You syphilitic sow. You should be driven into a building, then blown up and buried under 50 ft. Of dirt, covered with pig shit. You shit sucking prick. May you choke on the diseased dicks you slurp. You have an IQ slightly above that of room-temperature butter which makes trying to hold a decent argument like kicking a cripple. You Motherfucking cowardly cocksucking troll - I hope you fucking die, no, better yet, I hope you go to jail and get gang-fucked up the ass! You despicable, depraved, amoral slug. Your asshole must resemble a wind sock. Anybody can bitch and moan but few really have the answers so go ahead and shove that gerbil up your Hilter kissing buttfucking skinhead licking sheepfucking small impaired desperatly seeking real contact grasping stupid ass! You come and suck my big hairy nuts. You syphlitic neutered weiner-doggy with worms. You sperm-guzzling turd burglar. You have the creative abilities of a bucket of okra. Don't you have a razor blade that you can drag along your wrist and end your pathetic existence? And have the decency to do it in a bathtub so your mother doesn't have to mop up the floor. You are neurally-deficient, morally challenged colon polyp. You are like some cheesy advertizement jingle you can't get out of your head. Ack! You are like watching old ladies at the casino, working the slot machines for the big score but instead of using up their quarters, they're using up their credibility. You are lots of burps and fart noises, signifying nothing. There's a special place in hell for ogres like you. I hope you get hit by a fucking train. You are like a spoiled teenager begging for attention. You are very boring, whiny and utterly unfunny. Strange that you hasn't blown his bitter little brains out by now, given your decidedly limited and amoral worldview. You certainly are a dry and constipated little impacted turd. You'd be better accepted if you actually made some points other than the usual asshat propaganda. To make you feel better, maybe we can dub thee Sir Shit for Brains or the Earl of Asshats. You are the poster boy for corporal punishment, not to mention retro-active abortionjust a random shit-sucker. You are a seething, sniveling, miserable, envious, pissy, bratty troll-cunt. You anonymous cowardly bastard. You are slightly more dangerous than a canary on crack. The only danger you pose now is sucking all the oxygen out of the universe every time you open your mouth. You dumb-fuck son-of-a-bitch. You felching little fucknozzle. Go climb back under your rock, assmunch. You're not only stupid, you're annoying - like some cheesy advertizement jingle you can't get out of your head. You should be tied up in a burlap sack and thrown off a cliff. You malodorous canker, you suppurating pustule on the atrophied anus of a crackskank, you slimy, malign, mucousoid vector of some unspeakable veneral disease! You pasty-faced little maggot. You are yet another clump of feces thrown against the wall. You totalitarian lickspittle. You pickled camel nards. You impress me less than the contents of my 'kerchief after i've blown my nose. You are a drowning man, with a failed ideology, clutching at strawmen. You fucking partisan piece of shit. Until you have proof, shut your fucking commie ass up! Keep spouting the distortions and spin as truth and you might earn an official Karl Rove proof tinfoil hat autographed by the great Noam Chomsky for your efforts. You are a guise of pompous, sanctimonious arrogance. You are obtuse and throw a tantrum when you have been exposed. You are a base, vile, useless sack of protoplasm. You are beneath contempt. Your hideous nature seeps from your pores. You are black hole stupidity - the kind of stupidity that sucks any intelligence out of the region in which it exists. You're a twit, a turd and an utterly insignificant little insect. Come out from behind your mommy's skirt and i'll be happy to show you how wrong Ghandi was, you cowardly prick. You nadless, Idiotarian, functionally illiterate poster boy for retroactive abortion. Please stop leaving ass-lube puddles all over the place. Oh, and please use disposable enemas, you know Grandma hates it when you use hers. And stop stealing her panties, for crying out loud! You smarmy lagerlout git. You bloody woofter sod. You grotty wanking oik. You clouted boggish foot-licking twit. You churlish boil-brained clotpole ponce. You gormless crook-pated tosser. You craven dewberry pisshead cockup patting naff. You gob kissing gleeking flap-mouthed coxcomb. You dread-bolted fobbing beef-witted clapper-clawed flirt-gill. You don't have the moral credibility to be lecturing us, pissweasel. I'm not a fascist, punk-ass, but the closing of your methane-spewing mouth can be arranged. I think your pimp called, he wants you to keep working on your Tennis Ball Trick and to go pick up your new styrofoam boobs. Sod off you yeast infected arse wart. Fuckin ponce. You are a kind of crawly vermin that hide in curly butt hairs, fighting over the assraisins. You are the very essence of suckitude. Your name is engraved in the Eternal Buttboy for Kooks Hall of Fame. You are the sorriest, most piss-poor excuse for a poster that ever figured out the QWERTY layout. They are going to love you in prison. They already got dibs on who gets your pasty little arse first. Four words, babe, four words: PICK. UP. THAT. SOAP. Your moma's real ones are but gruesome, sagging, sock-like man-boobs, attached to a pasty, sunken chest. Great Laughing-Buddha-On-A-Popsicle-Stick that is you are one fucking ugly bitch. We are offering to make a skullcap from his scrotum! Are you still eating cardboard? Did it occur to you that your plan may be that you cause everyone but himself to fall out their chair in a drunken stupor, leaving him free to babble on with no coherent counter battery to worry about? You poor deluded truebeliever Tranzi reactionary, parroting leftwingidiologue deceit. You should stop being so insulting and mean, you stupid pigheaded foul-smelling jerk! You illiterate retarded math-imparied lice-ridden drug-addled liberal-arts-degree-toting goat-fucking shit-eating lackwitted fuckhead. Go sit in your round room and jack off in the corner. The swineherds have yet again forgotten to lock up the pens, thus letting out the swine and allowing it to roam freely and to enter your Palace. You are an old sow with two suckling piglets, trolling your unspeakable filth throughout this particular part of the Imperial Domain, leaving piles of droppings and horrifying stench. Since this is not the first time it has happened I request permission to place the swineherds under arrest and subject them to brutal interrogation and proper punishment. You deserve no place in this world. You are wasting our air. Please, please, please, call a gang member a name. Fall in the ocean. Have an unfortunate run-in with a manatee. Choke on an orange. Terminal sunburn. Just, whatever you do, please insure that your quite obviously defective genes do not accidentally get passed on to future generations. In short - you are a nitwit and a toad. Die already. Please?

[I'm just getting warmed up - I'm frothing at the mouth mad. I gulp down two of my famous Ultimate Martinis, and continue this troll-bashing]

You have the brain of a microcephalic lemur, transplanted into the rotting carcass of a common swine. You roll around in the puke of dogs, masturbating furiously. You emerge from your nest of flattened milk cartons each morning to toil until sundown emptying portable toilets. Like the shared bathroom of a dormitory, everyone urinates in this equal opportunity toilet. You are considered a cheap alternative to expensive crash test dummies. You are rewarded for years of faithful service with his very own bag of shiny things to play with, and a computer. Incoherent and sloppy, you waver in and out of consciousness while composing your responses. Skittish and awkward like a colt on coke, this autistic child prostitute hides behind the sympathy generated by the gastrointestinal disease that bears his name. You are characterized by the projectile expulsion of a curdlike, smelly discharge, forcing you to leave the keyboard every ten minutes for an enema. You are widely disliked, but never with any real intensity since you are so easily ignored. You are neither interesting nor noteworthy, an ongoing impression of tepid tapwater adopting whatever pose you feel would be most likely to appease your attackers so that you can meekly return to ignominy. You are irrational and weak-willed. This Flighty Balloo can write about little more than his unnatural obsession with oddly colored body fluids. A twenty year circus career as Willie the Shaved Monkey Boy made you especially vulnerable to narrative flame that references midgets, bananas and/or chloroform. You are a walking affront to the written word. Your sole saving grace is that You'll allow a 10% discount if you rent out his boyfriend to be passed around by the others when no other entertainment presents itself. In an attempt to make him seem more realistic, his puppeteer recently retrofitted him with some hints of personality. Still, judging by his range of expression you'd swear that the hand up his ass is Senor Wences. You are a tattooed truck driver with the manners and sophistication to go along with the look. You spend all of your time arguing that the past tense of 'blind' is 'blound.' You are as delicate and fragile as a snowflake, and about as tolerant of heat. After figuring out how to set up the presets in your car radio, you proclaimed yourself the best engineer in North Carolina and is probably correct. You are a small fish in a small pond. You have a momentary spasm of creativity once each month, about five days into your twelve-day period. Other than that, you are just bitching weakly about the hubbie and the dirty kitchen and the ten starving filthy children and the plugged up loo. You are easily filtered background noise. You are about as entertaining as a child's inflatable punching toy. You bop it, it springs back, you bop it again and you forget it ever existed. It slowly deflates in an unused corner, then one day you throw it away. Rumor has it you are almost incomprehensible in person (owing to your heavily accented and alchohol-slurred speech) and this combined with your being dirt poor and ugly makes you very uncomfortable with human interaction of any kind. You have therefore moved yourself far from the mainstream of human society, thereby earning its eternal gratitude.

[This is fun! I need a drink of The Ultimate Bloody Mary before I continue.]

It's Clobbering Time! I'm going to bruise you so utterly, you will drink poison and piss honey! I'm seriously going to contort you until your mom feels it in her womb! I'm going to clobber you into the stuff of nightmares! I'm going to flog you until the sun burns out! May your balls be conflagrated and defenstrated! I'm going to peel you apart like an overripe banana! Call me Pimp-Daddy, cause I'm gonna beat you like a bitch on payday. I'm going to strangle you with your own intestines. I'm going to touch myself, and by the Sock you're going to watch me! I'm going to sodomize you with an empty bottle of Jack lubed with Tabasco and Ben-Gay. I will flatten you until you can be used to store my stock portfolio. I will make animals out of your toenail clippings and train them to attack your chewy centers. I will rip you apart and funnel Trading Spaces designers directly into your nostrels. I'm gonna kick your ass and eat ALLLLL your grandma's Birthday cake. STABBY, STABBY, STABBY! MWAHAHAHA! I'm gonna castrate you with a dull, rusty, spoon! I'm going to punch you in such an inhumane manner, you will drink poison and piss honey! I will force you to wear your dog's ass for a feedbag. I shall frappe your entrails and paint your tombstone with glitter! RuPaul is a woman, tweak my nipples and remove my left eye if I'm wrong! Eat Yanni balls, you spineless bipedal orangutan turd!

[Actually, this is starting to wear me out a little bit. Better have The Ultimate Margarita before I blast him some more.]

I'm going to go Martha Stewart on your blasphemous ass! Have you ever been flayed by a spork? Prepare for your untimely demise, foolish mortal! I'll gauge out your eyes with a sodering iron and fuck your skull until you bleed to death. I'm gonna whip your ass til' your atoms split!. You just wait til my fuzzy rubber chicken gets through with you. If I weren't so hungry right now, you'd be SO beaten up! I'll train my gnomes to mash you up and turn you into honey! My hatred of you in pure and all-consuming. With God as my witness, I shan't be de-pants-ed again! I will strap you to a Canadian pony and rain on your parade! Under MY Constitution, your ass is GRASS! I'm going to strike a match on your crotch, and set you ablaze! Infidel! I unleash upon you seventeen rabid squirrels. May they eat you very, very slowly and with horrid table manners! Mua ha ha! You have insulted me. Please put down that table lamp and stand still so that I may pelt you with little packets of unpronounceable imported cheese! Shut your mouth, fucktard! Or I will lock you in a room I have specially prepared for you in my basement that is filled with goats that are extraordinarily gassy because I have fed them large buckets of pinto beans!

[Running out of breath and invective, I finish him off]

You are weary, stale, flat and unprofitable. You are grimy squalid, nasty and profane. You are foul and disgusting. You're a fool, an ignoramus. Monkeys look down the evolutionary chain at you. Even sheep won't have sex with you. You are unreservedly pathetic, starved for attention, and lost in a land that reality forgot. And what meaning do you expect your delusional self-important statements of unknowing, inexperienced opinion to have with us? What fantasy do you hold that you would believe that your tiny fisted tantrums would have more weight than that of a leprous desert rat, spinning rabidly in a circle, waiting for the bite of the snake? You are a waste of flesh. You have no rhythm. You are ridiculous and obnoxious. You are the moral equivalent of a leech. You are a living emptiness, a meaningless void. You are sour and senile. You are a disease, you puerile one-handed slack-jawed drooling meat slapper. On a good day you are a half-wit. You remind me of drool. You are deficient in all that lends character. You have the personality of wall paper. You are dank and filthy. You are asinine and benighted. You are the source of all unpleasantness. You spread misery and sorrow wherever you go. You smarmy lagerlout git. You bloody woofer sod. Bugger off pillock. You grotty wanking oik artless base-court apple-john. You clouted boggish foot-licking twit.You churlish boil-brained clotpole ponce. You gormless crook-pated tosser. You craven dewberry pisshead cockup patting naff. You gob kissing gleeking flap-mouthed coxcomb. You dread-bolted fobbing beef-witted clapper-clawed flirt-gill. You are a fiend and a coward, and you have bad breath. You are degenerate, noxious and depraved. I feel debased just for knowing you exist. I despise everything about you, and wish you would go away. The only thing worse than your logic is your manners. I have snipped away most of what you wrote, because, well ... it didn't really say anything. Your attempt at constructing a creative flame was pitiful. I mean, really, stringing together a bunch of insults among a load of babbling was hardly effective ... Maybe later in life, after you have learned to read, write, spell and count, you will have more success. True, these are rudimentary skills that many of us normal people take for granted that everyone has an easy time of mastering. But we sometimes forget there are "challenged" persons in this world who find these things more difficult. If I had known that this was your case then I would never have read your mail. It just wouldn't have been right. Sort of like parking in a handicapped space. I wish you the best of luck in the emotional and social struggles that seem to be placing such a demand on you.

[Sound of violent blows being dealt, things being smashed, awful crunching noises, bones being broken, and other bodily harm being inflicted. All of this accompanied by screaming sounds like a woman.]

Now, go away before I taunt you a second time!

[I bow, slowly turn and walk off the stage to the sound of a thunderous ovation.]

Sic Semper Tyrannus

The Bartender says: I would like to tell you that I made all this up, however, I believe in giving credit where credit is due. A hearty Thank You to all the Loyal Citizens at The Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler for their most excellent invective and troll bashing skills!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 9 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Precison Guided Humorr

This is what I would say if I had the floor at a Jacques Chirac press conference.

[Drink Alert is in effect for the remainer of this post.]

JACQUES CHIRAC IS A TROLL AND MUST DIE!

Thou hast forsaken me! Mine hatred of thee is pure and all-consuming. Now thou shalt taste the wrath of a Viking unavenged!

Hither and yon, thine creamy center will squish with greater glee than a pair of over-cooked rice balls! Lo, the overly-shiney Tricycle of Death comes to cart thy soul to the Monkey House! I shalt smite thine grandmother's stockings with more force than a polyp-bottomed Hungarian goat-herd on Tuesday! Behold, mine Fists of Justice greet thy face with a dozen roses and an unceremonious root canal! I will pelt thee with little packets of unpronounceable imported cheese! I shall flatten thee until thou can be used to store mine stock portfolio. I shall frappe thine entrails and paint thee tombstone with glitter! I shall force thee to wear thine dog's ass for a feedbag. Ye just wait til mine fuzzy rubber chicken gets through with thee! Odin calls upon Loyal Citizens to rise up and wield your mightiest weapons of destruction against this evil pretender!

[By this time, I'm really pissed off. I really let him have it. I give him The Ultimate Insult]

Last Call »

You were a crack baby, severely retarded, hardly a looker. You are a borderline cretin, a socially maladjusted parasite, an ill-mannered, undereducated piece of white trash maggot-infested butt-fucking bed-wetting asshat. You are a howling, drunken, fat slob dancing about. You are one huge, corrupt, incestuous orgy of mutual masturbatory orgies. You syphilitic sow. You should be driven into a building, then blown up and buried under 50 ft. Of dirt, covered with pig shit. You shit sucking prick. May you choke on the diseased dicks you slurp. You have an IQ slightly above that of room-temperature butter which makes trying to hold a decent argument like kicking a cripple. You Motherfucking cowardly cocksucking troll - I hope you fucking die, no, better yet, I hope you go to jail and get gang-fucked up the ass! You despicable, depraved, amoral slug. Your asshole must resemble a wind sock. Anybody can bitch and moan but few really have the answers so go ahead and shove that gerbil up your Hilter kissing buttfucking skinhead licking sheepfucking small impaired desperatly seeking real contact grasping stupid ass! You come and suck my big hairy nuts. You syphlitic neutered weiner-doggy with worms. You sperm-guzzling turd burglar. You have the creative abilities of a bucket of okra. Don't you have a razor blade that you can drag along your wrist and end your pathetic existence? And have the decency to do it in a bathtub so your mother doesn't have to mop up the floor. You are neurally-deficient, morally challenged colon polyp. You are like some cheesy advertizement jingle you can't get out of your head. Ack! You are like watching old ladies at the casino, working the slot machines for the big score but instead of using up their quarters, they're using up their credibility. You are lots of burps and fart noises, signifying nothing. There's a special place in hell for ogres like you. I hope you get hit by a fucking train. You are like a spoiled teenager begging for attention. You are very boring, whiny and utterly unfunny. Strange that you hasn't blown his bitter little brains out by now, given your decidedly limited and amoral worldview. You certainly are a dry and constipated little impacted turd. You'd be better accepted if you actually made some points other than the usual asshat propaganda. To make you feel better, maybe we can dub thee Sir Shit for Brains or the Earl of Asshats. You are the poster boy for corporal punishment, not to mention retro-active abortionjust a random shit-sucker. You are a seething, sniveling, miserable, envious, pissy, bratty troll-cunt. You anonymous cowardly bastard. You are slightly more dangerous than a canary on crack. The only danger you pose now is sucking all the oxygen out of the universe every time you open your mouth. You dumb-fuck son-of-a-bitch. You felching little fucknozzle. Go climb back under your rock, assmunch. You're not only stupid, you're annoying - like some cheesy advertizement jingle you can't get out of your head. You should be tied up in a burlap sack and thrown off a cliff. You malodorous canker, you suppurating pustule on the atrophied anus of a crackskank, you slimy, malign, mucousoid vector of some unspeakable veneral disease! You pasty-faced little maggot. You are yet another clump of feces thrown against the wall. You totalitarian lickspittle. You pickled camel nards. You impress me less than the contents of my 'kerchief after i've blown my nose. You are a drowning man, with a failed ideology, clutching at strawmen. You fucking partisan piece of shit. Until you have proof, shut your fucking commie ass up! Keep spouting the distortions and spin as truth and you might earn an official Karl Rove proof tinfoil hat autographed by the great Noam Chomsky for your efforts. You are a guise of pompous, sanctimonious arrogance. You are obtuse and throw a tantrum when you have been exposed. You are a base, vile, useless sack of protoplasm. You are beneath contempt. Your hideous nature seeps from your pores. You are black hole stupidity - the kind of stupidity that sucks any intelligence out of the region in which it exists. You're a twit, a turd and an utterly insignificant little insect. Come out from behind your mommy's skirt and i'll be happy to show you how wrong Ghandi was, you cowardly prick. You nadless, Idiotarian, functionally illiterate poster boy for retroactive abortion. Please stop leaving ass-lube puddles all over the place. Oh, and please use disposable enemas, you know Grandma hates it when you use hers. And stop stealing her panties, for crying out loud! You smarmy lagerlout git. You bloody woofter sod. You grotty wanking oik. You clouted boggish foot-licking twit. You churlish boil-brained clotpole ponce. You gormless crook-pated tosser. You craven dewberry pisshead cockup patting naff. You gob kissing gleeking flap-mouthed coxcomb. You dread-bolted fobbing beef-witted clapper-clawed flirt-gill. You don't have the moral credibility to be lecturing us, pissweasel. I'm not a fascist, punk-ass, but the closing of your methane-spewing mouth can be arranged. I think your pimp called, he wants you to keep working on your Tennis Ball Trick and to go pick up your new styrofoam boobs. Sod off you yeast infected arse wart. Fuckin ponce. You are a kind of crawly vermin that hide in curly butt hairs, fighting over the assraisins. You are the very essence of suckitude. Your name is engraved in the Eternal Buttboy for Kooks Hall of Fame. You are the sorriest, most piss-poor excuse for a poster that ever figured out the QWERTY layout. They are going to love you in prison. They already got dibs on who gets your pasty little arse first. Four words, babe, four words: PICK. UP. THAT. SOAP. Your moma's real ones are but gruesome, sagging, sock-like man-boobs, attached to a pasty, sunken chest. Great Laughing-Buddha-On-A-Popsicle-Stick that is you are one fucking ugly bitch. We are offering to make a skullcap from his scrotum! Are you still eating cardboard? Did it occur to you that your plan may be that you cause everyone but himself to fall out their chair in a drunken stupor, leaving him free to babble on with no coherent counter battery to worry about? You poor deluded truebeliever Tranzi reactionary, parroting leftwingidiologue deceit. You should stop being so insulting and mean, you stupid pigheaded foul-smelling jerk! You illiterate retarded math-imparied lice-ridden drug-addled liberal-arts-degree-toting goat-fucking shit-eating lackwitted fuckhead. Go sit in your round room and jack off in the corner. The swineherds have yet again forgotten to lock up the pens, thus letting out the swine and allowing it to roam freely and to enter your Palace. You are an old sow with two suckling piglets, trolling your unspeakable filth throughout this particular part of the Imperial Domain, leaving piles of droppings and horrifying stench. Since this is not the first time it has happened I request permission to place the swineherds under arrest and subject them to brutal interrogation and proper punishment. You deserve no place in this world. You are wasting our air. Please, please, please, call a gang member a name. Fall in the ocean. Have an unfortunate run-in with a manatee. Choke on an orange. Terminal sunburn. Just, whatever you do, please insure that your quite obviously defective genes do not accidentally get passed on to future generations. In short - you are a nitwit and a toad. Die already. Please?

[I'm just getting warmed up - I'm frothing at the mouth mad. I gulp down two of my famous Ultimate Martinis, and continue this troll-bashing]

You have the brain of a microcephalic lemur, transplanted into the rotting carcass of a common swine. You roll around in the puke of dogs, masturbating furiously. You emerge from your nest of flattened milk cartons each morning to toil until sundown emptying portable toilets. Like the shared bathroom of a dormitory, everyone urinates in this equal opportunity toilet. You are considered a cheap alternative to expensive crash test dummies. You are rewarded for years of faithful service with his very own bag of shiny things to play with, and a computer. Incoherent and sloppy, you waver in and out of consciousness while composing your responses. Skittish and awkward like a colt on coke, this autistic child prostitute hides behind the sympathy generated by the gastrointestinal disease that bears his name. You are characterized by the projectile expulsion of a curdlike, smelly discharge, forcing you to leave the keyboard every ten minutes for an enema. You are widely disliked, but never with any real intensity since you are so easily ignored. You are neither interesting nor noteworthy, an ongoing impression of tepid tapwater adopting whatever pose you feel would be most likely to appease your attackers so that you can meekly return to ignominy. You are irrational and weak-willed. This Flighty Balloo can write about little more than his unnatural obsession with oddly colored body fluids. A twenty year circus career as Willie the Shaved Monkey Boy made you especially vulnerable to narrative flame that references midgets, bananas and/or chloroform. You are a walking affront to the written word. Your sole saving grace is that You'll allow a 10% discount if you rent out his boyfriend to be passed around by the others when no other entertainment presents itself. In an attempt to make him seem more realistic, his puppeteer recently retrofitted him with some hints of personality. Still, judging by his range of expression you'd swear that the hand up his ass is Senor Wences. You are a tattooed truck driver with the manners and sophistication to go along with the look. You spend all of your time arguing that the past tense of 'blind' is 'blound.' You are as delicate and fragile as a snowflake, and about as tolerant of heat. After figuring out how to set up the presets in your car radio, you proclaimed yourself the best engineer in North Carolina and is probably correct. You are a small fish in a small pond. You have a momentary spasm of creativity once each month, about five days into your twelve-day period. Other than that, you are just bitching weakly about the hubbie and the dirty kitchen and the ten starving filthy children and the plugged up loo. You are easily filtered background noise. You are about as entertaining as a child's inflatable punching toy. You bop it, it springs back, you bop it again and you forget it ever existed. It slowly deflates in an unused corner, then one day you throw it away. Rumor has it you are almost incomprehensible in person (owing to your heavily accented and alchohol-slurred speech) and this combined with your being dirt poor and ugly makes you very uncomfortable with human interaction of any kind. You have therefore moved yourself far from the mainstream of human society, thereby earning its eternal gratitude.

[This is fun! I need a drink of The Ultimate Bloody Mary before I continue.]

It's Clobbering Time! I'm going to bruise you so utterly, you will drink poison and piss honey! I'm seriously going to contort you until your mom feels it in her womb! I'm going to clobber you into the stuff of nightmares! I'm going to flog you until the sun burns out! May your balls be conflagrated and defenstrated! I'm going to peel you apart like an overripe banana! Call me Pimp-Daddy, cause I'm gonna beat you like a bitch on payday. I'm going to strangle you with your own intestines. I'm going to touch myself, and by the Sock you're going to watch me! I'm going to sodomize you with an empty bottle of Jack lubed with Tabasco and Ben-Gay. I will flatten you until you can be used to store my stock portfolio. I will make animals out of your toenail clippings and train them to attack your chewy centers. I will rip you apart and funnel Trading Spaces designers directly into your nostrels. I'm gonna kick your ass and eat ALLLLL your grandma's Birthday cake. STABBY, STABBY, STABBY! MWAHAHAHA! I'm gonna castrate you with a dull, rusty, spoon! I'm going to punch you in such an inhumane manner, you will drink poison and piss honey! I will force you to wear your dog's ass for a feedbag. I shall frappe your entrails and paint your tombstone with glitter! RuPaul is a woman, tweak my nipples and remove my left eye if I'm wrong! Eat Yanni balls, you spineless bipedal orangutan turd!

[Actually, this is starting to wear me out a little bit. Better have The Ultimate Margarita before I blast him some more.]

I'm going to go Martha Stewart on your blasphemous ass! Have you ever been flayed by a spork? Prepare for your untimely demise, foolish mortal! I'll gauge out your eyes with a sodering iron and fuck your skull until you bleed to death. I'm gonna whip your ass til' your atoms split!. You just wait til my fuzzy rubber chicken gets through with you. If I weren't so hungry right now, you'd be SO beaten up! I'll train my gnomes to mash you up and turn you into honey! My hatred of you in pure and all-consuming. With God as my witness, I shan't be de-pants-ed again! I will strap you to a Canadian pony and rain on your parade! Under MY Constitution, your ass is GRASS! I'm going to strike a match on your crotch, and set you ablaze! Infidel! I unleash upon you seventeen rabid squirrels. May they eat you very, very slowly and with horrid table manners! Mua ha ha! You have insulted me. Please put down that table lamp and stand still so that I may pelt you with little packets of unpronounceable imported cheese! Shut your mouth, fucktard! Or I will lock you in a room I have specially prepared for you in my basement that is filled with goats that are extraordinarily gassy because I have fed them large buckets of pinto beans!

[Running out of breath and invective, I finish him off]

You are weary, stale, flat and unprofitable. You are grimy squalid, nasty and profane. You are foul and disgusting. You're a fool, an ignoramus. Monkeys look down the evolutionary chain at you. Even sheep won't have sex with you. You are unreservedly pathetic, starved for attention, and lost in a land that reality forgot. And what meaning do you expect your delusional self-important statements of unknowing, inexperienced opinion to have with us? What fantasy do you hold that you would believe that your tiny fisted tantrums would have more weight than that of a leprous desert rat, spinning rabidly in a circle, waiting for the bite of the snake? You are a waste of flesh. You have no rhythm. You are ridiculous and obnoxious. You are the moral equivalent of a leech. You are a living emptiness, a meaningless void. You are sour and senile. You are a disease, you puerile one-handed slack-jawed drooling meat slapper. On a good day you are a half-wit. You remind me of drool. You are deficient in all that lends character. You have the personality of wall paper. You are dank and filthy. You are asinine and benighted. You are the source of all unpleasantness. You spread misery and sorrow wherever you go. You smarmy lagerlout git. You bloody woofer sod. Bugger off pillock. You grotty wanking oik artless base-court apple-john. You clouted boggish foot-licking twit.You churlish boil-brained clotpole ponce. You gormless crook-pated tosser. You craven dewberry pisshead cockup patting naff. You gob kissing gleeking flap-mouthed coxcomb. You dread-bolted fobbing beef-witted clapper-clawed flirt-gill. You are a fiend and a coward, and you have bad breath. You are degenerate, noxious and depraved. I feel debased just for knowing you exist. I despise everything about you, and wish you would go away. The only thing worse than your logic is your manners. I have snipped away most of what you wrote, because, well ... it didn't really say anything. Your attempt at constructing a creative flame was pitiful. I mean, really, stringing together a bunch of insults among a load of babbling was hardly effective ... Maybe later in life, after you have learned to read, write, spell and count, you will have more success. True, these are rudimentary skills that many of us normal people take for granted that everyone has an easy time of mastering. But we sometimes forget there are "challenged" persons in this world who find these things more difficult. If I had known that this was your case then I would never have read your mail. It just wouldn't have been right. Sort of like parking in a handicapped space. I wish you the best of luck in the emotional and social struggles that seem to be placing such a demand on you.

[Sound of violent blows being dealt, things being smashed, awful crunching noises, bones being broken, and other bodily harm being inflicted. All of this accompanied by screaming sounds like a woman.]

Now, go away before I taunt you a second time!

[I bow, slowly turn and walk off the stage to the sound of a thunderous ovation.]

Sic Semper Tyrannus

The Bartender says: I would like to tell you that I made all this up, however, I believe in giving credit where credit is due. A hearty Thank You to all the Loyal Citizens at The Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler for their most excellent invective and troll bashing skills!

« You're cut off!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 9 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

What does Evil Glenn's tattoo

What does Evil Glenn's tattoo look like and where is it? The Alliance wants to know. Harvey tells a sordid tale of drinking mass quantities of beer, robot dancing, and tattoos. It seems that Blackfive was out drinking with Evil Glenn and blacked out. How did he find out about Glenn's tattoo? I hope Matt's butt isn't sore!

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 6 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

Moe's Martini Recipes

>Harvey over at Bad Money gives my favorite cartoon bartender, Moe Syzslak, Martini recipes and names for the cast of The Simpsons. (Is there another cartoon bartender? Inquiring minds want to know.)

My recommendations for Moe were:

Willie-tini: substitute Jamesons Irish Whiskey, garnish w/ potato peel, rip shirt off and say "Now grease me up, woman."

Patty/Selma-tini: double standard recipe in tall glass, served with pack of cigarettes

BumbleBee Guy-tini: substitute Tequila, add dash of salt, lime juice, and lime wedge ... Hey that's a Margarita, D'oh

My favorite Martini recipe was from Mike the Marine:

Moe-tini: served on fire... at double the cost

Scroll down the comments to see the rest. A couple of them look pretty tasty - might have to try them out at the First Annual Madfish Willie's Martini Party.

Cheers!

Bullshit so far »

» by Madfish Willie on October 5 :: Permalink :: Comments (0) :: Funny Stuff

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