Tuesday, August 31, 2010


Abraham Lincoln was a wizard. I don't mean that in the "oh my gosh he did such wonderful things" way--I mean he had a wand and slung magic.

Think about it. Tall guy. Slender build. Tall hat. Beard. That suit--just a disguised wizard's robe.  "Four Score and Seven Years Ago?" Who measures time this way? WHO?

Wizards, that's who.

And then there's his name. ABRAham Lincoln. Abracadabraham Lincoln.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

With a Knob Set Right in the Center

     I awoke today to find that my belly-button had a tiny little green door in it. I don't know how it got there or when. It seems like I'd have noticed when they installed the hinges. At any rate, I woke up and Carly was knocking on it, trying to send my little belly-hobbits on some sort of adventure. They were having none of it. They gave her a sound "Good day!" and slammed the door shut.

     A quick shower and a stiff gin later and all was well.

     It is hard to crush a tiny hobbit in your fist, but it's doable with enough gin.

On Capes

A jet pack is just an upgrade of a cape- it's the same thing except it's on fire and can actually fly.

Guest Cat Ghost Comic

   From the desk of our friend at Shit I Drew at Work:

   It would seem that Ghost Cat is causing trouble all over the place!

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Things American Propaganda has Removed from the History Books

    In traditional American history classes, students are taught that Spanish conquistadors conquered and pillaged Central America during the 15-through-1900s. This is not the case. In truth, Cortez and his men were driven back to sea almost immediately by natives armed with an awful lotta axolotl atlatls. 

Fig. 1
The axolotl is loaded into the atlatl.
Fig. 2
The atlatl provides increased leverage, allowing the user to 
throw an axolotl much farther than they normally could.

Fig. 3
The axolotls proved willing ammunition for the natives.

     It's the truth, mang. Just ask your pop.

The Biggest Fucking Snowflake Ever

A Proposed Children's Book

Friday, August 13, 2010

Colubrid Physiogomy

It is a misconception that snakes consume their prey for sustenance. In fact, the internal cavity of a snake is entirely filled with still-living mice that it has swallowed whole, and whose tiny scurrying feet propel the serpent forward. 



Since we moved here, we've been hearing out of the corners of our ears these cat noises--never from the room we're in, though, always a different one. Sometimes we see the tiniest whisper of a black cat jumping onto a counter or off of some furniture, just off in the periphery or down the hallway. And then, today, it decided to start WRECKING SHIT.

I was just floating away to sleepytown island when suddenly, from our roommate's vacant bedroom, FUCCKRACKmeowBANGALANGABOOM! Suddenly there arose such a clatter! I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter! And what to my wondering eyes should appear? This bullshit:

Fucking ghost cat. I hate you, please try to remember that I don't actually believe in you from now on, ok?

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Mantids. I know, right? They're adorable! And for some reason, they seem to have de facto diplomatic immunity! Why?

I ran into a dying mantid last night. It didn't look like it was doing too well--so I performed science's best procedure for testing whether something has died: I jabbed at it with a tube of paper.

It moved! I was surprised and kind of happy for some reason. I talked with a co-worker about it (because when you work third shift, you'll talk about pretty much anything even mildly interesting) and they brought up something I hadn't thought about since I was six.

"Aren't they endangered, and isn't it illegal to kill them?"

I remember having heard that a long time ago, when I was a kid. So I looked it up.

As it turns out, no, they aren't endangered (at least not the ones that we have here) and there has never been any law--state or federal--that prohibits anyone from killing them. I'd like to know where this myth came from! Everybody I know seems to have heard it (and some still believe it's true)!

I think the mantids themselves pushed this forward as a way of protecting themselves. Maybe they prayed to Mantigod to give them some sort of diplomatic immunity.

Now, though, their ruse has crumbled and our all-out war against them and their lies can begin!

Saturday, August 7, 2010

The Alphabet of Everything that is Wrong with Cookie Monster

Part 1: A is for Apartheid

     We all know and love Cookie Monster for his multitudinous appearances on PBS's popular Sesame Street series, but how well do we know him really? In most cases, not very well.

     Cookie Monster was born in a small boarding house on Anise Street, where he lived with Cake Monster (his paternal grandmother) and an assortment of other blue Monsters, as well as one or two odd humans who had had a run of bad luck. His mother died of internal hand cancer which was most probably the result of her terrible, terrible alphabet addiction. Cookie Monster was very young when she died, and she was never really a part of his life. His father was shot by muggers when Cookie Monster was twelve.

    Anise Street was the name of a notorious red Monster neighborhood. Cookie Monster was frequently accosted, teased, bullied, or beaten by some of the meaner red Monsters, but even the nicest of them just sneered at Blues.

   Cookie Monster went through a rough patch during his teen years. He joined a gang--the Anise Street Felties--who introduced him to a life-rending new experience: sugar. He rode a wave of sugar highs through to his early twenties when he suffered his first heart attack. The shock of it--a heart attack at twenty-three--brought him to his senses. He quit the gang (at this point, he was the oldest living member) and swore off of sugar for good. "Just cookies now," as he has been so famously quoted, "to take the edge off. I don't even swallow them any more."

   Eventually, Cookie Monster was discovered by an agent for PBS, who had just taken on Sesame Street into its programming lineup. He had stable work for the first time in his life, even if it was a humiliating position on a human-oriented program with a strong bias against Monster dignity. They played up his cookie problem as an identifying feature as well as continuing their then-present status quo of monster appearance exploitation; they look funny to humans. They can't help it.

  With his position on the show, he made some friends--Grover, Herry--a few of the other older, similarly downtrodden monsters--but his rocky past and blue fur continued to make things hard for him. Still, he had a regular income and could move away from the slums of Anise Street and start anew, away from the bad memories and apartheid of his birth neighborhood.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010


Dreamt that we graduated from college.

But the graduation ceremony was also a Comic-Con.

And we wore cool Daft Punk helmets.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010


Santa's 10th reindeer


Man he makes Rudolph look like shit.

How does Santa reach all the little kids in one night, now that the population is over 6 billion? By going Mach 1000 with his Flaming Jet Reindeer Fireball. Don't complain if your gifts are kinda scorched, Santa will know.

New Facial Hair for the Genetic Future