And We’re Getting Stabby About It.

Welp, we thought we’d have this whole “Comments Section” iss-yew handled by now, but nope. We’re still figuring it out. Anyone know a helpful techie who loves to work for free?

In other news, everything sucks and the world* is a horrible place.

*Except for the parts of the world that produce ponycorns, chocolate, rainbows and you guys. We’re cool with those. They don’t suck.

We’re Not Purposely Refusing Your Comments. We Would Never.

*thanks to chelsea, for the heads-up.

AndrewVanBalegarden

Or Does She Want To Eat Her Trainer’s Face?

I don’t have a dog, currently, because I rent. That doesn’t make me less of a “dog person,” though - I know me some dogs. And this one is looking like it’s been harangued. (Is “harangued” a word? Maybe! I don’t actually know; but it seems to fit this dog.) Now, I ain’t no PETA representative (although I get why the people that are, are) but something about this is just not sitting right with me. Ears flat back and all twitchy? That’s a sign that the dog in front of you hates your guts but isn’t willing to take that next step (which is biting your face off.) I don’t know what this person did to make this dog “smile” like this, but I’m pretty sure I’m not cool with it. Anyway. You be the judge.

Ned Flanders-Bale.

What. He’s hot and you know darn-diddily-iddly it.

From THIS angle? GORGEOUS.

Yeah, I'm pretty and I do ALL the stuff that fossas do, PLUS I've got this kid. I'm amazing in every way.

From THIS angle, YOU WILL NEVER SLEEP AGAIN.

I WILL EAT YOUR FACE OFF. Because I'm awesome.

They’re Also Okay With “I’m Not Quite Dead Yet,”  “I Feel Fine!” and “Really, I Think I’ll Go For A Walk!”

Welp, y’all, it’s not a big secret that I have issues with the LDS community. Some of you may remember my rants on The Site That Shall Not Be Named - but for those who weren’t privy to those rants, here’s a list of reasons, showcased rantily. (Yeah. I KNOW “rantily” isn’t a word. If you’re not cool with that, well, you can leave. Don’t let the door knock some rantiness into you on your way out.)

A) There’s that whole “Mark of Cain” thing… apparently, according to the Book of Mormon, black folk are the accursed descendants of Cain (you know. The Bad Twin in the Biblical “Cain and Abel” duo.) According to The Book Of Mormon, black people are black BECAUSE OF GOD’S CURSE on Cain for murdering Abel. In fact, It’s God’s punishment to the whole world, apparently, for Abel’s murder.  Cain’s descendants are black, and therefore made of da eeeeebil.

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In Related News, It WAS Opposite Day.

First, Fox News was so embarrassed by Palin’s stupidity that they had to correct her about her deliciously asinine assumption that Obama is in charge of whether or not there’s God-stuff on our coins. Then on Friday night, Bill O’Reilly asked her questions that I’m pretty sure left her wishing she were being interviewed by Katie Couric. And no, I am not making this up.

O’Reilly: You pointed out his [Obama's] lack of experience — you don’t have that much experience. You walked away from the governorship after, what, two years? Two and a half years?

Palin: Going into my lame-duck session — my fourth legislative session — and not wanting to put Alaskans through a lame-duck session –

O’Reilly: OK, but is it fair for you to criticize Obama’s lack of experience when somebody could make the same criticism about you on the national stage.

Palin: If you’re talking about executive experience, I would put my experience up against his any day of the week. I have been elected to local office since 1992, and was a city manager, strong-mayor form of government, was a chief executive of the state, and was an oil and gas regulator. There was some good experience there that could have been put to use in a vice presidential ticket. We’ve to remember too that I wasn’t running for president.

O’Reilly: No, but that’s the key question. Because John McCain is up there in years, you had to be qualified to take that office over.

Palin: Right. But I — I’m saying I was running for vice president, just like Joe Biden had been running for vice president. I never once heard you or anybody else question Joe Biden and his experience.

O’Reilly: Well, he’s got a lot of experience.

Now, I should point out that I saw (and by “saw,” I mean “did a bunch of other stuff while this interview blathered on in the background”) the rest of this interview, and he’s mostly kissing her ass and trying to make out with her the rest of the time, as per his contract with Mr. Murdoch. And I’m pretty sure these are the hardest questions she’s been - or will be - asked while on her book tour. But STILL, y’all! Color me “well, THAT was unexpected.”

And Maybe YOU’LL Love OUR Exotic, Kooky, Assy Condiment?

LOOK AT THAT ASS*! It's just RIGHT OUT THERE, for everyone to be shocked and amused by! *note: not really this model's ass.

It’s so hard to find the new, cool thing.  This is a difficult time in marketing for the whole world. The global economy is in a terrible state, but everyone wants to see something edgy and new. Well, no one can afford to come up with a whole new thing. So. We try to turn something old and overlooked and dusty into something new again! America’s got crazy, scene-lovin’ hipster kids peddling Miracle Whip as a “lifestyle choice,” and Japan’s decided to promote their asses (or someone’s asses, anyway, screenprinted onto the backs of their skirts in ways that look like would be REALLY uncomfortable if they were real). Japanese booties and Miracle Whip have been overlooked for years!

Tone it down?! What?!? Not THIS free spirit's* Miracle Whip! *note: model is not an actual free spirit .

Give it some thought. When you think of the American flag, do you think of Miracle Whip? No. Because nobody likes Miracle Whip. But THAT’S ALL GOING TO CHANGE, now that a bunch of 19-year-olds are making duckfaces while shoving a jar of it in your face! And when you think of Japan, do you think of asses? No. The Japanese have many, many beautiful features, as a people - but asses aren’t typically the feature you think of first. WELL GUESS WHAT? That’s all gonna change! Because a bunch of 19-year-olds making duckfaces are shoving them in your face! They’re as stylish as Winkers (maybe more so!), and it’s okay that they’re not real, because neither is Miracle Whip.

So everyone wins! Sort of! This economy is going to change, y’all, with the help of Miracle Whip and weird pretend-assless skirts! MARK MY WORDS!

How ‘Bout You Do THAT, and NOT Leave Your Kid In A Box Under The Babysitter’s Bed (Or In a Plastic Bag In A Truck, or With A Fictitious Nanny, Or Whatever.)

This kitten was probably not abandoned and/or murdered. I just thought you might want to look at a sweet tiny kitten.

WHAT. THE FUCK. IS GOING ON, Y’ALL. Why are people doing weird shit like abandoning and/or murdering their kids when THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO WILL HAPPILY TAKE THEM. People who likely would also pay for stuff like hospital bills, travel expenses, and the welfare of the mother (uh, vitamins and vodka an’ shit, I guess.)

I AM SICK AND TIRED OF ALL THESE ABANDONED AND/OR MURDERED BABIES ON THIS MOTHAFUCKING PLANE.

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Also, It Makes You Smell Really, Really Bad.

Vaibhav Bedi has been using Axe Body Spray for seven years, thinking “any minute now, throngs of models in the throes of spontaneous orgasm brought on by my scent are going to launch themselves at me and offer me some boob. And maybe one of them will want a relationship with me, even!”  Well, Vaibhav Bedi thought wrong.

Why is Vaibhav Bedi angry about this?

The company cheated me. It says women will be attracted to you if you use Axe. I used it for seven years but no girl came to me.

Not only was he never once accosted by hordes of beautiful young women, but he wasn’t even offered any casual boob from random passers-by or homeless people. None. Not even one  “Jesus, alright, whatever, just leave me alone if I do it this one time” boob. IN SEVEN YEARS.

The Axe ads promised him that if he bought their douchey-smelling elixirs of douchetasticness and then applied said douchetastic elixirs onto his body, at least one girl would be so overcome by his scent that she’d have no choice but submit to him. And since ads apparently never lie in India, Vaibhav is suing Unilever (makers of said douchetastic body spray) for $40,000. Because in the seven years that he’s been dousing his body in the putrid funk that is Axe Body Spray, not one girl has thrown herself at him whilst ripping her pants off, or otherwise.

Unilever has declined to comment. Because smelling really, really bad speaks louder than words.

Porpoise Community Seeks Protection For Harboring Dirty, Dirty Snitches

Dolphins are murdering bastards, y’all. Not only are they cold-hearted and unforgiving,  but they have a message to deliver: snitches get stitches, squeakers get beachers. (Dolphins may be clever hitmen, but they can’t rhyme for shit. They make up for it with their ruthless killing style.)

Last year, 74 murdered porpoises washed up in California - murders that were suspected of the notorious Eeee! Eeee! family of the Dolphin Mafia, but were never proved. Recently, a gang attack by dolphins on a porpoise was photo-documented; after the porpoise was beaten to death, the dolphins dragged the lifeless body to the photographer’s boat and then swam away, leaving the body behind. Apparently, it took leaving a murdered body on a photographer’s doorstep (or whatever it’s called if you’re on a boat) for the dolphins’ message to be made public: DON’T FUCK WITH THE DOLPHINS, SNITCHES, OR YOU MIGHT NEVER AGAIN SWIM WITH THE FISHES. (Again; rhyming’s not their thing.) Porpoises know stuff, and they’re being picked off like ripe sea cucumbers as a result.

WHAT DO THE PORPOISES KNOW? Information that may involve found feet? Or the secrets of Atlantis? Or why LiLo continues to somehow be newsworthy? Whatever the case may be, I’m investigating, so I really hope it’s “feet.”

And Here’s How I’m Interpreting Them. Like It Or Not.

According to the Pew Research Center:

Statistic Uno) 57% of the country thinks gay couples should be allowed civil unions. FIFTY. SEVEN. PERCENT. OF THE COUNTRY! Sounds awesome, right? Sadly, the country won’t be put to a vote on this. For, like, eleventy million years or so. It’s a rough guess, but I think it’s close.

Statistic Dos)  49% of the country thinks hommaseckshuls are planning to turn our chirrun queer as a bunch of 3-dollar bills.

Statistic Tres) 52% of the country thinks abortion is morally wrong. I understand that. Seriously. Abortion is disturbing to me, too. But if Congress gets all up in my uterus, or anyone else’s? MY VAGINA WILL THROW THINGS. With prejudice (which means “In the face.” While screaming and throwing other things with my hands. Bricks and sharp pointy things, most likely. Don’t fuck with a woman’s right to choose what’s right for her own body, Congress. Not kidding. SHARP, POINTY THINGS. AIMED AT YOUR HEAD. Don’t forget, now!)

Statistic Cuatro) why did I choose Spanish for this? I BARELY SPEAK SPANISH! I speak Broken-Half-English-Nonsense! Anyways. Of those 52%, more than a third (35%) do NOT think homosexuality is a moral issue. DID ANYONE ELSE HEAR THAT? Of the 52% of people who think abortion is wrong, over half  do NOT think homosexuality is a moral issue. 9% of those think it’s morally acceptable. Why? Because they’re not A) morons (i.e., Sarah Palin ) or B) hateful (i.e., Rush Limbaugh.)

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Why NOT Call 911 Over And Over Again?

Hee Orama’s boyfriend is a LYING BASTARD, y’all! He told her he would marry her! And then he didn’t marry her! Which is a mean thing to do to a woman prone to being full of crazy! And what do you do when somebody does mean things to you? You call the police, duh! In fact, Hee called them four times, because the first three times she was told by the 911 dispatcher to stop calling 911 over nonsense, well, maybe she just thought they were being mean to her. And what do you do when people are being mean to you? You call the police, duh! Then they come pick you up and put you in jail, which is what happened yesterday morning.

Fortunately, jail is a familiar environment to Hee, because she was there just last week. Because you know how sometimes, you go to the mall or something, and when you come out you’re all “oh, dang, there’s a LOT of cars here, and mine’s one of ‘em, but damned if I can find it”? So then you call 911? And they tell you to stop calling with nonsense, but they’re just being mean, and so you call 911 again? And then they keep telling you to stop calling them, so you call them a couple more times? And then they come and pick you up and put you in jail? It was a lot like that.

You know what else is an emergency? McDonald’s telling you they’re out of Chicken McNuggets.

And Yes, My Vagina Is Predictably Angry.

This is going to be a short one. I will spare you the rageful rant that you may have been expecting - not because I’m not angry, and lawd knows not because I don’t love to rant - but because I’m so bitterly disappointed in my beloved home state that I can barely stand to talk about it anymore. I started ranting last night, continued ranting until the wee hours of this morn, had ranty dreams while I slept, and woke up feeling exhausted and heartbroken. I have a huge amount of respect for the people who are trying to see the “bright side” in all this by pointing out that while the vote was defeated, it was a close one at 53% to 47%. I admire optimism, despite my penchant for rage. But the bottom line is that 47% wasn’t good enough, and that makes me so sad. In my heart AND in my pants.

In case you missed the link in stm’s last post, here’s Pajiba’s brilliant take.

Here’s A Hint! If You Pronounce “About” Like “Aboot” In Such A Way That It Rhymes With “Afoot,” It Would Rhyme With That.

This past Tuesday, the sixth right foot of the now seven found feet turned up on Canadian shores. And again, I can’t help noticing the Royal Canadian Mounted Police’s seemingly WHATEVAH attitude about these mystery feet.

There’s no evidence of a crime in connection with any of the seven feet.

Police say it appears that all the [feet] separated naturally and floated because they were in running shoes.

How do you find seven feet in two years and not think it’s a big deal? Because “there’s no evidence of crime in connection with them?” Did the feet tell you that? THEY ARE HUMAN FEET! With no bodies attached, or even other random body parts lying around nearby! JUST FEET. How is that not alarming? If I found a foot in my backyard, I would have some serious freaking out to do, followed by some serious questions. If I found an average of 3.5 feet in my backyard per year, I would NOT be all, “Oh, dang. I wish these dumb feet would stop bothering me, already -  it’s always the same old thing, yawners.” No. My freakouts and questions would very definitely increase with each found foot.

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One, Two, Wal-Mart’s Coming For You…

Last week, Wal-Mart started selling burial caskets and urns on its website, with plans to also add pet urns and memorial jewelry. I have no idea what “memorial jewelry” is, but coming from Wal-Mart you KNOW it’ll be classy, reasonably priced, and probably not at all creepy or gross!

Why NOT bury your loved ones in a casket bought from the same retailer where you regularly stand in line to buy toilet paper; wedged between a stinky, twitchy, butt-scratchy meth-head wearing a t-shirt as a dress and a stinky, mullet-y, butt-scratchy grandpa wearing their infant grandkid’s Nazareth t-shirt as a… uh, t-shirt. Why the heck not.

Prices range from $999 for models like “Dad Remembered” and “Mom Remembered” steel caskets to the mid-level $1,699 “Executive Privilege.” All are less than $2,000, except for the Sienna Bronze Casket, which sells for $3,199.

There is one caveat, though, in exchange for these low, low prices (unless you think you’re all superswanky and insist on the “Sienna Bronze” casket):

Caskets ship within 48 hours. Federal law requires funeral homes to accept third-party caskets. Returns are not accepted, the company says on its site, unless the product has been damaged during shipping.

That means you cannot change your mind, people. So don’t go thinking you can just haul one of these babies to the return desk for beer money and then buy it back on layaway; Wal-Mart’s wise to you and your tricky schemes!

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Invites Them to See “The Gun Show,” Maybe Some Cartoons Later

Hey! Remember how Balloon Boy’s dad turned out to be an exploitative dooshface? And so are Jon and Kate? And Octomom? Well, you’ll stop thinking about those losers in just a second!

Giuliano Stroe, AGE THIS MANY (that’s five fingers) of Romania has become famous for his bodybuilding skillz. The boy’s dad, Iuliano Stroe, says that the kid’s been going with him to the gym since he was born, and has been training since he was THIS MANY (that’s two fingers.)

One could say that this is just how this particular father and son have “bonded,” and that it’s nice that they have shared interests. That’s if one weren’t willing to stop and consider questioning the motives of a father who would start a toddler on a rigorous weight-training schedule, and then put him in a bunch of competitions. But no worries! Papa Stroe says that “if he gets tired, we go and play.” Which is weird, because when I was five, I got tired FROM playing! This kid is just going and going all the time! People would pay good money to have that kind of energy! And the ability to pack on that kind of muscle! If only there were some kind of injection…

Oh.

Or Would Have, If She Weren’t Bound And Gagged.

Remember when the most offensive T-Shirts featured big pimpin’, gross jokes involving farts, and “I’m With Stupid” with an arrow pointed toward the unsuspecting person on your right? Well, now we have the Love Hurts T-Shirt, brought to you by the fine people at Digital Gravel. I understand that there’s a whole great big wacky fun-and-pain-with-safe-words! SM community out there, and that’s cool. There are fetishists of all types, and I’ll be the first to raise my hand and holler that I love me some Dita Von Teese (who, sadly, appears here. She’s done some fetish work, that apparently is licensed - hence, her image on this T-shirt) - she’s an amazing dancer, and she’s gorgeous to boot. But I can’t help wondering: are the SM/Fetish community - or even the “we like pinups, because we’re all retro like that” people - the ones buying this nearly sold-out T-Shirt?

Because I kind of doubt it.

Word to the wise: if you see someone wearing this, make sure your shiv is sharpened, your brick in hand, and your nut-punching skills honed.