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I always put off holiday shopping until the last minute. It doesn't feel like Christmas unless I'm using a Wal-Mart greeter as a human shield, parading her up and down the aisles at gunpoint on the 24th, ordering her to sing carols as I pick up those emergency stocking stuffers. "Push that cart faster, find something cute for my parents, STOP SHAKING YOU BITCH, YOU'RE RUINING CHRISTMAS." Those aren't Santa's reindeer on the roof, it's police in riot gear rappelling from helicopters, trying to silence my holiday cheer.
|It's Christmas time in Hollis, Queens.|
Mom's cooking chicken and collard greens. | Tuesday, 12.18.07
This year, as a service to my readers, I've decided to write up a holiday gift guide. Let's face it - you have absolutely no idea what to get anyone, and unless your family suddenly develops an interest in downloaded scat pornography, you're gonna have to buy them real gifts. Those chore coupons may have worked for the past 20 some-odd years, but your mom is too nice to actually cash them in and make you do the dishes or lift your legs as she attempts to vacuum the space between the couch and the coffee table. And you're not swift enough to notice the subtle hints that your significant other has been dropping since October, like, "Boy, it sure does suck that my prosthesis got torn to shreds in the garbage disposal! Maybe Santa will bring me a shiny new arm this year..." You're a terrible gift-giver, and I'm here to help.
THISMAYHURT's 2007 Holiday Gift Guide
Nintendo Wii. This year's hottest toy for children under 5 is the Wii, a videogame system that makes learning fun through frantic arm flailing. While other game systems focus on raw processing power, lifelike graphics and intricate storytelling, the Wii runs on the same technology found in electronics that children are familiar with, like wind-up toys and Lite Brites. Featuring a wireless controller with one button and a one direction directional pad (left), the Wii will be a hit with your teething newborns, your curious toddlers, and grandparents that don't know what the fuck. They'll all squeal in delight as they help Mario save the princess through the power of single column addition in "Super Mario: Plumbing Math Superstar." Similarly, they'll love helping Link save that other princess by pointing their Wii controllers at brightly colored fruit in "Link's Funtarium Adventure."
|Seconds later this child was thrown on the ground face first. Claus style.|
Unfortunately, the Wii hasn't been available since the day it was released, so, better luck next year. I mean, I got one from Amazon on Black Friday, but only for the sole purpose of writing this update. I'm throwing it out as soon as I'm done.
DVDs. While Blu-Ray and HD-DVD battle for world domination, now's the perfect time to pick up some shitty ass low-fi DVDs for the glaucoma victim that you love. The DVD medium will be extinct in the next few months, and stores are giving them away in order to make room for higher quality video experiences. Last week, I walked out of Best Buy with a complimentary DRAMA H-M rack because I made a purchase over $3 and I'm a Best Buy Rewards member. I made it through about 15 minutes of Michael Landon Jr.'s "Love Comes Softly" and my eyes literally, literally, shit from the sub-par picture quality. Is that Dale Midkiff of "Air Bud: World Pup" fame, or a sack of potatoes? Where are the special features on this thing? Am I selecting a chapter or turning on Mexican subtitles? Who knows. DVDs are shit, but do you really love your family enough to care?
Shit That Lights Up. Watches make great gifts because they are the perfect marriage of function, style, and *record scratch* flashing lights? Whaaa? The Tokyo Flash Men's "Barcode SS" watch is the perfect gift for the man in your life that likes watches but can't tell time. Thrill as he stares blankly at the blinking light show on his wrist and responds, "I have no fucking idea" when people ask him for the time. It's not 3:35, it's flashy blinky Tokyo funtime o'clock, all day, every day! And if your man has a thing for light emitting diodes, he'll love the classy LED Belt Buckle. Think of the attention his crotch will receive as internet catch phrases and winking emoticons light up the night... and your heart. And the pock-marked gut flab that hangs over his belt... and your heart. A Small Miracles Motion-Sensitive Light-Up Tutu completes the ensemble.
Give to a Worthy Charity. Hahaha, yeah ok.
Happy Holidays folks, even though Hanukkah is over, so I guess it's safe to say Merry Christmas now, right? When does Kwanzaa fall this year? Oh shit, it's on the 26th... forget that I said Merry Christmas before. Happy Holidays. Happy Winter Carnival. A fruitful Zweiter Weihnachtstag to you and yours. Don't forget, 2008 is right around the corner - will this be the year that Jesus floats down from heaven to judge and kill each and every one of us? Here's hoping!
Everyone's fucking retarded, and I have the proof.
|Stupid dresses. Stupid flowers.|
What is this? Get real. | Tuesday, 12.04.07
Police say a man tried to open an account with a $1 million bill, which does not exist. The teller refused and called police while the man started to curse at bank workers, said Aiken County Sheriff's spokesman Lt. Michael Frank. Alexander D. Smith, 31, of Augusta, Ga., was charged with disorderly conduct and two counts of forgery, Frank said.
-- Yahoo News
Well-balanced people don't try to open bank accounts with million dollar bills. Do you know who does? Fucking retarded people. The most reasonable explanation for Alexander D. Smith's behavior is that he smokes rocks and doesn't know what the fuck is going on half the time. Another explanation is that he's addicted to stupid pills, which contrary to popular belief do not cure stupidity, but rather, induce it. Here's my dramatic re-enactment of Alexander D. Smith's run-in with a bank teller that probably can't count to seven, but can smell a ruse from a good 3 feet away through those holes in the bullet proof glass.
Teller: I can help the next person in line!
Smith: Good afternoon.
Teller: Hello there, how can I help you?
Smith: I'd like to open an account,please.
Teller: Excellent! Let me just get the forms and we'll--
Smith: I HAVE A ONE MILLION DOLLAR BILL.
Teller: Excuse me, sir?
Smith: Yeah, y'know, no big deal, just opening an account with this ONE MILLION DOLLAR BILL so that I can have ONE MILLION DOLLARS in my brand spankin' new checking account. So, here it is. Thanks so much.
Teller: I, uh... I don't think such a thing exists, sir.
Smith: Well, obviously it does because here it is in my hands. Except now, I'm going to hand it over to you and you're going to open my account and give me a free mug for my troubles. Fuck.
Teller: O... K... I'm going to call my manager, who happens to work at the police department because he's also a police officer.
Smith: OK, great. Should I wait here with you, or do you want to help some other customers? I mean, I can just step aside and you can take care of them.
Teller: That would be super, just wait in front of the bank with your hands on your head. My manager will be here in like, 5, maybe 10 minutes.
Smith: Awesome. I'm a fucking dolt.
Retarded people aren't only bank patrons. Nay. They're butchers! They're bakers! They're Turnpike ticket takers! They make friends with their reflections and shout obscenities at their erections! They think paper is elastic and use tinfoil as a prophylactic. These people is D-U-M, dumb and I really can't emphasize that enough. Take Mikhail Ershov for instance... or at least what's left of him...
A Russian man blew himself up with a hand grenade Tuesday shortly after train inspectors asked to see his ticket... Passengers were evacuated and negotiations with the police had started before Mikhail Ershov, 43, triggered the explosion, blasting out windows in the train carriage.
-- Yahoo News
Ka-BOOOOM! Nothing clears out a crowded train faster than the threat of drippy Mikhail bits splattering against the walls. This kinda reminds me of the time that I was riding on a train and a train inspector asked to see my ticket, but instead of handing him my ticket I handed him fifty dollars and told him that he never saw me. It's almost exactly the same. Oh, the fifty dollars also exploded and derailed the train, killing hundreds of people. I probably should have mentioned that part earlier. Because without the explosion the two stories have nothing in common.
Also, this just in - monkeys are more gooder at mathematics and probably grammaratics which is a buncha bullshit because they can't even talk. But they can point to a screen full of numbers better than college students, and that's why I'm buying stock in Chiquita because those motherfuckers are going to be running this place soon. Or maybe they already run this place! Whoa! Zing! Comin' atcha! That shit was bananas.
Look, even I have moments of fucking retardedness. Yesterday, PSE&G shut off the power in my apartment building because "something something wattage power something electricity something something testing the lines" etc. When I got home from work, it was apparent that the power was still out because the rape lights outside of our doors were off and the entire street was blocked off so PSE&G could do their thing underground. So what do I do when I get inside my pitch black apartment? Flick the dead front hall lightswitch. And when I go into the kitchen to find my flashlight, do I flick the light in there? You betcha. How about when I go to use the bathroom? I flick flick flicked every fucking lightswitch in the apartment despite them all being as useless as a doorbell that's glued to the side of your grandpappy's skull. You can press that thing all day, but he's not going to answer.
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