Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Honestly, look around for something a little more structurally sound. And the smell, my God.
Q: What’s the difference between a sunset and a zombie?
A: One makes the “sun red”, the other is a reanimated corpse that feasts on the brains of the living.
ON THE DEATH OF QUIET RIOT SINGER KEVIN DUBROW
Hang your head
Metal health has made him dead
AN ENCOURAGING CHEER TO SHOUT DURING YOUR SIX-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER’S FIRST SWIM MEET
Float! Float! Float! Float!
LYRICS FROM MICHAEL JACKSON’S “THRILLER” THAT WE PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE PAID A LITTLE MORE ATTENTION TO WHEN WE WERE PRE-PUBESCENT
- You hear the door slam and realize theres nowhere left to run
- You close your eyes and hope that this is just imagination
- Awesome Eddie Van Halen guitar solo
- Now is the time for you and I to cuddle close together
WORST THING ABOUT THE “JIMMY SWAGGART CONVENTION FOR RESTORING AMERICAN CHRISTIAN VALUES TO A GODLESS SOCIETY,” FEATURING GUEST APPEARANCES BY CELINE DION AND KENNY G, AND HELD IN A TIN SHACK NEAR A MINEFIELD IN KIGALI, RWANDA
THE MOST EMBARRASSING THING I SAID ABOUT THE DECEMBER 3, 2007 SNOWSTORM TO MY PARENTS
“I haven’t seen that many inches in a long time.”
(Editor’s note: If you do not know what 2girls1cup is about, I implore you to not find out.)
When I was a kid, I believed that God made it impossible for us to roll our eyes all the way back into our heads because He didn’t want us gazing directly inward upon our bare naked souls. Now that I’m older and have more life experience, I realize what a stupid idea that was. The real reason God doesn’t let us roll our eyes all the way back in our head is so that it’s easier to tell normal people apart from zombies.
If the chemists of the world really want to become all-star sex symbols and have movies and books written about their glamorous lives, then I say it’s time to drop all this “ribulosebisphosphatecarboxylaseoxygenase” and “2,1,5,6-quadrichlorine-1,3-phenyldiacarbonitrile” nonsense when it comes to naming what you make. Why not call your next industrial solvent “The Sweaty Norwegian,” or let agricultural pests know they’ve got a fresh batch of “Powdered Windshield” coming at them? Without a slew of catchy names that women can still pronounce when drunk, there is no Cocktail.
Although, now that I think about it, there probably isn’t a Cocktail without a large group of studio executives snorting some 2,1,5,6-quadrichlorine-1,3-phenyldiacarbonitrile before greenlighting a project with lines like “Anything else is always something better.” So thanks a lot, chemists.
This is a test of Sauce Reader’s weblog posting capabilities. Do not be alarmed. Your usual irregular postings will resume shortly.
Instapundit writes about the new Phillips HeartStart:
THE PHILLIPS “HEARTSTART” Automated Home Defibrillator: When I see stuff like this, I know I’m living in the 21st Century. There’s even video of it in action….
I think that Rush would have been a much better band if they had replaced the singing of Geddy Lee with a prerecorded tape loop that played the sound of a large swarm of Africanized honey bees attacking a pack of young wolverines that were feasting on the remains of a family of whitetail deer that were killed by large boulders falling from a three-hundred foot high cliff. I think this would have really helped “Red Barchetta.”
Taking two weeks off [ed. How can we tell?], with plans to overwhelm the Internet with awesomeness and powerfulness in January.
See you January
Our motto: Underpromise. Overdeliver. Maybe.
Back into the posting swing on Monday. Until then, enjoy this fine photo of Senator John Kerry eating an oversized sandwich:
The voters have spoken. By a nearly 4-1 ratio, it has been decided that my new song should be about “the love between a man and a sandwich.” I’m not sure how many of you sandwichophiles have been stuffing the ballot box, but let it not be said that I am a despotic beast who ignores the people’s wishes. Come Monday or Tuesday, your hoagie-lovin’ song shall be unveiled.
When the Teenage FBI is on the streets of Bar Harbor, you know that some serious stuff is going down on island. Usually they come around for my protection — after the incident earlier this summer, The Island doesn’t like to take chances with its celebrities. But I didn’t get a call from the bureau before their most recent appearance, so I’m guessing the A-List tourists have finally descended en masse, and the Agents are out scouting quality parking and outrageous deals on manually-powered transportation. Which means I’m undefended, ladies, so your quarry will remain vigilant against your wiles and charms.
Or maybe I’ll just hunker down at Cold Comfort Farm until the leaves change color, and catch up on my projects and those of my dear compatriots. Greg has deigned us worthy enough for his Web presence, returning with an updated Devil’s Dictionary for these trying modern times. Dan has dropped some serious cash on a new Moveable Type installation to bring you the scientifically awesome Beer-Movie Rating System — let’s see that clown Ebert come up with such a useful system!
And while most of the major websites are taking their summer break, lolling about on some unwarranted vacation, I’ve been working night and day (literally: one night and one day) in preparation for
Monday’s Tuesday’s return of Snappy Dresser. There’s not a whole lot to do up here in the winter, so I find it worthwhile to ready my virtual canvas for the painting of all things trivial and polemic. There’s a clean and simple new design to serve up the questionable content in which SD specializes. So please do me the good and honourable favour of visiting http://www.snappydresser.org on Monday Tuesday morning and sharing your tales of joy and disbelief at its return.