Monthly Archive for November, 2007

Holiday Back Off Bake Off

Back off haters. So, in other countries they have things like the Eurovision song contest and soccer teams get theme songs that are incredibly terrible for football competitions. It turns out that it is the annual Smack Talk Bake Off. I’ve decided that all the contestants need to have theme songs. I will allow everyone to choose their own theme song, but I think we should post them at Song of the Day over the next couple of weeks. Please send me your theme song and a couple of lines why you icked it, or perhaps just some smack against the other contestants. Do not reveal your theme song until it gets posted. I’ve already picked an inspiring and amazing song for the 3B non-ploverian entry. Judges may also have theme songs.

So pretty please, blue girl, AG, Res Pub, Mandos, Kathleen, Mendacious D, Shayera, Brando and TLB, Snagsby, Jennifer, Von, Chuckles, or whoever else is in, send you songos to 3bulls at gmail.

I can’t wait for you to fall in love with our song all over again.

Seriously

What the H is wrong with our two readers? This song is Aw suh uh um meh (not meh). Love it.

Too Much Thanksgiving Babpupten I Reckon

I can only think that irregular in this circumstance means either NONE AT ALL or coagulated with huge gobs of kitten hairball and puppy snausages. THYCWOTI, COME BACK!

Hillarytroopers: sign up here!

Here in the Democratic People’s Republican Kingdom of the Unitarily Executed States of America, we must prepare for the great new day that will soon be dawning! Given that teh Hillary’s presidency has been anointed with all the inevitability that the inevitable anointers can find with which to anoint inevitably, we can be sure that we will inevitably need all available cadres to deliver a whole village of caring Hillarycare to every deserving American and to bring the wrath of the fearsome Democrats1 down upon anyone who would still dare to uphold a conservative principle!

Continue reading ‘Hillarytroopers: sign up here!’


  1. Just imagine Joe Biden in leather — that ought to terrify you. [back]

not lost


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time:

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Oopsies

Sometimes when I get all stressed out on Thanksgiving, I make a list to help organize myself. Since I am stressed though, sometimes I jumble up my list.

My list:

1. Butt squirt Smoke Dog
2. Inject Turkey
3. Husk Corn
4. Bake Pie
5. Hole Something
6. Smoke Meat
7. Cook Sausage

I can’t even begin to imagine how I would screw up that list. I’m glad I didn’t have to “hide the” anything.

Just the Right Tone

One of my fave classes of internet denizen is the cluck clucking childlike world views with zero empathetic response that like to troll websites like the Consumerist telling people it is their own faults for letting their kids play with toys made out of lead or getting burned by 900 degree coffee, or that they read and understood their mortgage agreements so why can’t everyone else? Anyhow, this type was rockin’ a Salt Lake Trib story about (Big) Bro inevitably tasing some poor chump. Best part was the comments:

screenshotto.jpg

Debby was clearly does-ing the board over and over, even discussing the victims parents (it’s a small state), but she got nailed with that certain je ne sais quoi I do love. Thanks, Pandano57!

Oh, the whole things on video, if you love your state troopers stormy, dial it up!

First saw the story of the Don(u)t Tase(ing) (Me) Bro at the Digberonis.

In Which We Provide A Link

to make fish’s head explode. My depressing flavor of the week is this cabal known as “race realists”- the Andrew Sullivan crowd of Bell Curve enthusiasts. I just don’t have anything to say except such cobaggery fills the back pocket of my serious pants with malaisical pudding that goes squish on my half ass everytime I take a seat.

So James Watson says this:

… [Watson] is “inherently gloomy about the prospect of Africa” because “all our social policies are based on the fact that their intelligence is the same as ours – whereas all the testing says not really”, and I know that this “hot potato” is going to be difficult to address.

and then cobag says this:

One thing, though, was conspicuously missing from this whole irritating denouement: any semblance of factual refutation. There is good reason for this: everything Watson got in trouble for saying was entirely correct!

Annoying emphasis in original. Anyhow the author then goes on to stress how “correct” Watson was about his statements, but only discusses issues of “intelligence” and says nothing about Watson’s direct implication that the ‘stupidity’ of the African continent is such that social and economic policies are bound to fail or be hopeless. Is Africa too stupid to not be poor? Is Africa too stupid to fail to recover from hundreds of years of imperialism and exploitation?

These people will willingly construct a genetic argument allowing them to embrace their preconceived racism, while ignoring the existence of centuries of racism and refusing to account for any of it. Inequality has been so pervasive that it will require exceptional creativity to conceive of it entirely. In complex biological systems, there are ALWAYS variables you are not modeling. These people are quite depressing in innumerable ways.

The Passage Of The Bakery

At last Pinko could bear it no longer. “What’s all this, Snag?” he said in a whisper. “These cookies? They’re floating all around us now. Have we been pooped on? Are they the muffin ghosts of chunder past?”

Snag looked up. A dark mixing bowl was before him, and he was crawling on the ground, nodding his antlers this way and that, doubtful of the way. “Yes, they are all around us,” he whispered. “The tricksy cookies. Cookies of corpses, yes, yes. Don’t heed them! Don’t smell! Don’t follow them! Where’s the mistress?”

Pinko looked back and found that Kathleen had lagged again. He could not see her. He went some paces back into the darkness, not daring to move far, or to call in more than a hoarse whisper. Suddenly he stumbled against Kathleen, who was standing lost in thought, looking at the pale cookies. Her hands hung stiff at her sides; butter and frosting were dripping from them.

Continue reading ‘The Passage Of The Bakery’

Math Corner

The giganticity and inevitableness of the painful canker sore I will obtain during the holiday months scales directly with the size and deliciousness of the crate of clementines, nature’s own mouthly citrus grenades. FREAKONOMICS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!