I don’t know why upper class entitled bullying is more abrasive than the run-of-the-mill kind. Perhaps it is the creatively baroque nature it always takes, especially from people that shouldn’t have a care in the world and are clearly doing it out of the pathological boredom that their lives of shallow (un)ease must certainly entail.
Apparent sociopathic goonwagon harasses teacher, fuels early adopter Facebook cobaggery/shitstorm wherein purposeless, aimless high school choads perform the digital version of the Exlax brownie for teacher, or more aptly, the acid tab in the morning coffee, for shits/giggles. Or not- distaff view from the supergenius Ross Douthat (come to your own conclusions, but comments are priceless).
Anyhow, since I am heading for permanent grampa pants, I have to say, I don’t approve of getting one’s kicks by doing anything to anyone’s food, nor do I approve of harassing the hell out of someone on the internet and being a total cobag.
That being said, Gawker has taken Coburger above and given him his own category. Inappropriately I feel a bit of joy about this. Similarly, when Wonkette goes after Late Nite Shots, sometimes I let myself down with tiny smiles, laced with a touch of “you ****ing pricks.”
So if Charles “Chazmo” Stam “The Staminator” wants to Google himself and therefore appear on our page, I invite him to use this public platform to defend his actions and advocate for his good-guy nature. We’ll then set the hug timer and invite the space unicorns into the hot tub. It’s a Columbia thing. I think AG would even pass on this Ivy, Jewish tater tot.
An impregnable melmet for a LouDobbs model A1. Does such an annointing flatter his robotish and gerbily carapace? I nominate him directly for the Citrus Fashion Association Year End. May their honors be bestowed in lingering fashion upon his tasterful and buttery flesh.
If I am asked to declare in words my esteem for such a wonderful human-hamster hybrid, I shall be without, due to an inrushing of blood and emotion to my constricting and pangy temples.
Three Bulls! Labs have been working night and day to understand this problem! And while our findings are preliminary we felt that it was imperative to publish our data. One look at the graph below and you’ll understand why! Both the frequency and the intensity of Ann Althouse’s kerfuffles have been increasing. We shudder to think what the future has in store for the blogosphere if our predictions are true. Time to move to higher ground and to pray that Ann Althouse never picks a fight with Dolly Parton or Charo. Cuchi-Cuchi!
Kerfuffle Intensity = tnpf x [sin (I x t2)+BS/36)]
B) We believe that this is related to the following factors: 1) latte consumption prior to posting; 2) alcohol consumption prior to posting; 3) blog traffic of kerfuffle opponent; 4) number of commenters that must be told they are stupid, partisan, illiterate or all three; 4) links by Lawyers, Guns and Money or Whiskey Fire, Alicublog, Altmouse et al, 5) lack of links from Andrew Sullivan, 6) the difficulty of blaming the whole stupid episode on Clinton or Glenn Greenwald; 7) the difficulty of mental gymnastics required to excuse Ann Althouse’s comments/post. Due to the complexity of this factor we have only been able to measure this empirically.
In a probably inevitable development, there is now a vampire running for president (via). So far the main element of Jonathon ‘The Impaler’ Sharkey’s platform is a promise to impale George W. Bush if he is elected. Though as one law professor noted “[I]f he’s a vampire, why is he the one staking people? Shouldn’t he want to bite the president and feed on him?”
Meanwhile, the secret service has felt it necessary to investigate this possible threat to the President even though Sharkey has made clear his “pledge to impale President Bush … will only come into effect if he is actually elected to office”. However, it appears that investigating vampires is not a skillset that the Secret Service gives much priority to maintaining. According to Sharkey, “They were telling me, when they were interrogating me, that their job was to protect Bush even after he’s out of office. I’m looking at them like, ‘Oh, you’re going to defy me when I become president?’” Sharkey expressed further disdain for their methodology: “They never even asked to see my impaling stick.”
laced with indigestible wood. He makes me want to go to the bathroom. Our Beloved Capt. of the Internets announces that a particular Op-Ed is very persuasive about global warming. I said to myself, please Lord of Everything, please let this link not go to the Wall Street Journal. Please let our man Sully’s argument about Global Warming and the search for WMDs having some kind of equivalence not be based on some munchloafery from Opinion Journal. I was wrong.
Certainly, Our Poopypanted Hero of Blog would have examined Herr Lindzen’s statements for scientific merit, not just that they sounded, er, sound. I mean he would have searched for responses/critiques such as this and this and this.
And even if our Golden Idol of Les Internet hadn’t done these things, he would have realized that there is a difference between our government secretly operating under a “1 percent doctrine” (if there is a 1% chance of WMDs existing in hands of someone, action should be taken) in regards to WMDs and a government overtly claiming a 100% doctrine for WMDs (WMDs exist in both the past, present and future). And both of these things are different than future climactic occurences that by definition can only be hypothesized and assigned probabilities as they exist in the future.
I’m sorry, why have I even bothered. Since Monsieur Lindzen sounded persuasive with his made up “facts” and his sadly faulty logic, I should realize that there is no further reason to investigate, especially if I want to be like my hero, a human-shaped Bran Muffin currently enjoying delightful Spiritus Pizza in a cozy Cape Cod getaway dominated by a huge stone penis.
Oh, the Eds said it better, but you already read it over there.
Many of you may not be aware of my silent fatwa against James Sherley. I guess because I’m generally silent about it, but no more. I’ve been pissed off one too many times. The history: First strike against Sherley is the way he presents his science at meetings. He has this totally provocative model about DNA segragation during stem cell divisions. Which is fine. Except that his data is very circumstantial and he has only been able to weakly test his hypotheses in very artificial systems. Continue reading ‘Emu Alert: James Sherley hates science’
You remember way back in the 19th century when we’d play that game in the parlor, which involved thinking up clever names for groups of animals? Examples – a school of fish, a pod of whales, a crash of rhinos and a gaggle of geese.
Well it’s been a long time since we’ve played that game so to start I offer the following:
A constipation of cobags.
A clutch of cobags.
A sighing of emus.
An ennui of emus.
A churning of chundermuffins.
An aggravation of Gregors
My how droll! Quite!! Quite!! Now it’s your turn…..
We’re not trolling. We’re being activists. Think Ford Motor Co. likes it when they get John A. up in their grill? He doesn’t let up until he gets satisfaction. We’re the same way. We learned it from watching you. When the big boys take a steaming poop-snake on the little guys and gals, and then start acting like you promised crazy a baby, it is gonna start some stuff.
1) Comments by myself were never offensive or insulting (here, here and below). The first one got deleted, when I was on point of course. It is always rude to call someone a supermassive slowly orbiting gas-giant of a hypocrite, and I only implied it. That is just trude (true+rude). Then it becomes a game. You delete stuff and pretend it never happened? That is loco. Then you call everyone freaks. Shakespeare’s Sister, are they freaks? Pam’s House Blend? Republic of Dogs? Hundreds of commenters? Dozen(s) of blogs?
2) If someone can’t laugh at Jamie Bamber withdrawing the support of his awesome guns from Americablog, they got probs. If someone can’t laugh at being calling a hairy emu, they got probs.
When Jamie Bamber holds all the cards, emus get tossed out the airlock- INTO OUTER SPACE!! BWAHAHAHAHAH!
Fucking stupid Republicans. If they secede, Aimee Mann and Ted Leo will probably never play Wisconsin again. Fucking idiots. After they’ve destroyed everything else in the State, trashed the economy, raped the land with environmentally nightmarish mines, thrown the poor off healthcare, destroyed the schools, and just generally made the place a Randian […]
Kaye Grogan, two paint cans full of apple sauce and a blue tarp. "I Can't Get Enough Of Your Love" plays in the background as Pinko curls into the fetal position while Kaye screams at him, "You're not a real man! Now grab the other can o' sauce!" -end scene- I have to go cleanse that image from my mind...