… as long as the Democrats in the Senate don’t convict him in an impeachment trial.
No problem. If I can’t carry cow crap, that leaves plenty of room for other crap. That’s how the blog got its name.
The hard part is getting the salmon aroused. I would need somebody else to jerk him off for me.
I wonder if there’s any salmon bukkake porn. Personally, I can’t imagine getting turned on by a salmon.
A catfish – maybe.
“Actress Gillian Anderson made headlines at the 81st Golden Globes on Jan. 7 with a Gabriela Hearst gown that had a unique and subtle detail embroidered on it — namely, an (intimate) part of the female anatomy.”
The article goes into a tedious explanation of why we should use the correct term “vulva” instead of “vagina.”
Personally, I cun’t see why.
This has been your nasty pun for the day.
“The singer’s feline, whom she adopted in 2014, is one of the world’s richest cats with an estimated net worth of $97 million.”
Only one of? That’s right. There is another cat worth a hundred mill. (And a dog worth a half-billion dollars.)
“Statistically speaking, more people have visited space than driven the Wienermobile!” So now you can join the few, the proud, the silly.
Oh, sure, some sausage dudes create a weird car and it becomes an American icon. Meanwhile, my time driving the Anthony Weinermobile goes unrecognized. The speaker would blare “Welcome to the Danger zone,” but no women would come running.
I learned today: the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile has been around since 1936!
Hey, Sgt. Preston – good tip, but if an adult male moose wants to lick my car, there’s just not a lot I can do to stop him.
Jumping off from the comment section:
A superb collection of images, inspired by this legendary paperback:
Example: Joey Bishop sings C&W – in an ill-fitting cowboy hat that he tilts at a rakish angle, as if he were his buddy Sinatra wearing a fedora.
“Joey not only can’t sing, he hardly even tries. His whispery, tentative voice is barely there … It’s like listening to a Ray Price concert, except that Price’s microphone has accidentally been set up at a dark corner table where a depressed, nebbishy accountant is drinking double martinis and singing along halfheartedly to the sad music to take his mind off the fact that his date didn’t show up.”
That book is a great read, by the way, and you can buy it for five bucks! (I have my own well-worn copy.)
Hollywood Hi-Fi update (it only took 16 years!)
Very entertaining: The Hollywood Hi-Fi Facebook Page
“Resurrection biology — attempting to bring strings of molecules and more complex organisms back to life — is gaining traction in labs around the world.”
Would Norm MacDonald count as a complex organism? If so, I heartily approve of cloning him. Some countries are whining about declining birth rates. What better way to fortify the population than an army of zombie Norms?
“It was a year of reckoning, a year in which humanity finally began to understand that it faces an existential threat, a threat unlike any we have ever faced before, a threat that will wreak havoc on our fragile planet if we fail to stop it — and it may already be too late.
We are referring, of course, to pickleball. Nobody knows where it started. Some scientists believe it escaped from a laboratory in China. But whatever its origin, it has been spreading like rancid mayonnaise ever since, to the point where pickleball courts now cover 43 percent of the continental U.S. land mass, subjecting millions of Americans to the inescapable, annoying POP of the plastic ball and the even more annoying sound of Boomers in knee braces relentlessly telling you how much fun it is and demanding that you try it.”
I guess it really is the most wonderful time of the year.
Best lines in the article:
“The size of the tree is not detailed in a criminal complaint.”
“The tree was not seized as evidence.”
Now THAT is a customer service department.
“Swiss city considers legalizing cocaine for recreational use
A spokesperson for the proposal rapidly blurted out, “Thewarondrugshasfailedandwehavetolookatnewideas,” and then she twitched, rubbed her nose, and popped “Scarface” into her Blu-Ray player.
She added that it’s a “scientifically supervised pilot scheme.”
Cocaine supervision is not a bad gig for the scientists. It beats the hell out of studying the recent change in salamander migration patterns.
Say, I’ve been planning a trip to Switzerland. (If you live in Wisconsin, you’re most comfortable traveling to cheese-rich environments.) I wonder if they will accept non-scientists as Assistant Cocaine Supervisors.
I vote for The Little Drummer Boy as my least favorite.
Except for this version:
Y’know, I think the two goofy actors actually did a better job on this than the two music legends who originated it.
Good luck on that tan.
“The guy helping us with our luggage said, ‘You’re going to Canada.’ We all laughed it off.”
MSC Cruises had informed passengers of the change in a single e-mail sent out the night before the seven-day cruise commenced.
I’m sure somebody must already have noted this, but surely they did not have the right clothing for a visit to Newfoundland. It it had been my cruise, I would have packed nothing but shorts, underwear, swim trunks and t-shirts.
Well, she was the iron lady.
(It looks totally bogus to me, but I am glad to see others breaking the Jesus monopoly on spooky appearances. We’ve been held too long in the thrall of Big God.)
“The post-credits scene in one script for Christmas Vacation (via Script Slug) saw Margo and Todd peacefully lying in bed after the chaos they had experienced throughout the week. Todd ironically remarked, “Nothing else can happen. It’s quiet, it’s peaceful, all is calm… If we don’t go to sleep, Santa Claus won’t come.” Julia Louis-Dreyfus would have closed out the movie with the final line, “You’re so cute,” followed by a long beat before the Griswolds’ life-size Santa Claus, reindeer, sleigh, and Christmas lights display comes crashing through the couple’s ceiling and into their bedroom. At this point, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation would have officially faded out and concluded on one last comedic beat.
In addition to making Todd and Margo the target of the joke another time, the cut post-credits scene would have explained what happened to the Griswolds’ exploded Santa decorations after Christmas Vacation’s ending. In the last sequence of the movie, a gas explosion causes the family’s outdoor decoration of Santa’s sleigh to be launched into the air and fly like a rocket across the sky, hilariously emulating what the real Santa, sleigh, and reindeer might look like that night. The 1989 comedy never reveals when the display lands or whether it simply burns into ashes, but Todd and Margo’s post-credits scene explains that it later returned and crash-landed right next door.”