9622.net

Master hurts us, Master betrays us. We should strangle him in his sleep.

Smeagol hateses the nasty Bushes.

One can only pray that those poor little kids are so traumatized that they grow up to be Democrats.

George was having so much fun gloating, no one had the heart to tell him the dog wasn't the Two of Clubs.

Bush Love Puppies

Is it just me, or does George look a little puzzled by the pooch he's petting in the second picture? As if he's unsure how to proceed with the pat.

9622.net: Unsure how to proceed with the pat.

Every time you vote Republican, God kills a puppy.

In that second picture, I imagine GW is thinking Pretty...pretty...PRETTY!

What if you vote Libertarian? Does God just break the puppys legs?

I'm surrounded by hippies who can't do math. How do I *get* into these situations??

*reflects on atheism, kills own puppy*

But are the hippie chicks at least topless? The hippies' saving graces were music and the penchant for public nakididity.

And THAT is the stuffedest dog I've ever seen, and I've seen some stuffed dogs. Look at those dead, dolly eyes! *shudders*

PS: Jon, I meant you democrat types. I work in financial services - no unreformed hippies allowed. also: hippie music? WILDLY overrated. Try CS&N's Daylight Again for examples.

CSN, by the time they became such were no longer hippies but merely a hairier version of Guy Lomabardo's big band only less cool.

And I stand steadfast by my assertion that every single member of CSN was a great artist...elsewhere. Crosby with the Byrds, Nash with the Hollies and Stills with Buffalo Springfield ("Bluebird" alone is enough to earn him genius status).

But I digress. On the subject of hippies: I was just image googling "burning man." Didn't that shit get a lotta ink for what amounted to an overly intellectualized, less hygenic version of Spring Break on Padre Island? (Not that I got to go there either, but I figure I should spread my resentmenmt and sour grapes around evenly)

[ponders]
dad is a hippie
was a republican
[cues tape: Twilight-Zone]

From this post, think Bush will be reincarnated as a dog?

And Lennie said softly to the puppy, "Why do you got to get killed? You ain't so little as mice. I didn't bounce you hard." He bent the pup's head up and looked in its face, and he said to it, "Now maybe George ain't gonna let me tend no rabbits, if he fin's out you got killed."

[previous quote replaced with this better one]

I love the look on that kid's face. The man doesn't respect human life, how is he supposed to respect a dog's?

I would love to go to Burning Man.

Honest. I'd like to leave all the every day stuff of my life - even the husband I love - behind, and go out into the desert and experience the heat and the dust and the magic and the weirdness. It seems like a fantastic opportunity to be free and freaky.

[/fantasy life]

Plus the nekkid chicks. You forgot to mention the nekkid chicks.

It's no weirder than the average night on the Lower East Side, tiz. Plus it seems to be overwhelmingly the math club on acid out on the playa.

But, then again I've never been to spring break, woodstock, lollapalooza, burning man, mardi gras, sturgis, fantasy fest or any of the sanctioned bacchanals, so what do I know. I always feel like it would be some kind of countercultural version of the prom, just with a different back of cool kids. (And I'm more the "drink malt liquor in the parking lot, then crawl under the bleachers and look up girls dresses, the get yelled at, then run off and drink more and light off bottle rockets with my desultory pals" type, so I really wouldn't fit in)

Once you've been to the Puddin' Party, you don't need to attend the other various and sundry bacchanals.

It's worth mentioning that after a night like that, you're the burning man.

(ho HO!)

Off topics, I am (gulp) taking a 10 week class starting tonite. Yep, you read that right - academia. After a couple decades, it's off to campus for tizzie.

Will I be able to find my classroom? Will the cool kids accept me?

Needless to say, I am a nervous wreck. It's just like I felt before third grade, only I'm over 40.

What kind of class, Tizzie?

Little-known fact: I'm *still* in third grade. They let us, the chronically held-back, take night courses to maintain the fiction in the workplace.

The good news is, they've improved the taste of the paste.

Yeah, after you start paying tuition, they upgrade you from Elmer's brand paste to Maker's Mark brand paste. Infinitely preferable.

(And if you're REALLY pretentious, just call it "pate.")

It?s a preparation course for the certification exam in public relations. I've been working in pr for ten years, but I have no book-learnin' - if I can get through this and pass the exam, then there's a chance I may someday move on to Career Success.

and I'm so driven to succeed. Well, just to make a little money would be good.

Good luck! (You're both a journo and a flack? Heresy!)

Good luck tizzie! Good luck becoming a *certified* flack! ;-)

(My mother always told me that as long as I was nice to other kids, they'd accept me, which I quickly discovered was untrue. My suggestion: Let them see the pearly handle of your .22 sticking out of your purse.)

But as soon as they spotted purse, they were no longer nice to me.

Make that "spotted MY purse"

Post correctly, dammit! *bangs head against wall* oh, fuck it. (Wetware problems are harder to fix than software ones.)

One down, nine to go. I learned my teacher's name and where the bathroom is. I fought off the urge to go to the gym and get high behind the rolled-up bleachers.

I have to call it a success.

Thanks for pulling for me, y'all.

I'm back! Did ya miss me?

*crickets*

Ah well, I'm back anyway. Still in Korea, in a new non-paid-for-by-university apartment (very small, but brand new, and with a loft, which always gets me excited for some reason), still unemployed (yeah, who cares - not me!), visa run to Japan complete, broadband all hooked up again, eating cheesy bagels and spag sauce (the new neighbourhood is almost totally unlike the shithole I used to live in, and has Big Stores That Sell Imported Food yay!).

All is more or less right with the world. Unemployment rocks, but I'm afraid the wife might curtail the beer budget, which isn't good.

Also, Koreans don't barbecue doggies, they stew them up in a big pot with red pepper sauce (surprise) and garlic (big surprise). Cooked pooch smells nasty, in case you were wondering.

Also also, you go, tizz!

Welcome back, stav! Glad things are going well for you.

A propos nothing, I don't have a blog, but this is about the coolest thing I've seen. I'm not religious by a long shot, but the OT in Legos kicks my ass.

I'm back! Did ya miss me?

Senor Pollo! Hell yes, I missed you!! Of course a girl's gonna miss her early morning drinking buddy.

Now gimme a bite a that bagel, willya?

Stav and tizzie, here's those Wednesday morning shoutouts you ordered.

(Replace cocktail napkin with post-it.)

Ah, rather HERE is the...well, you get it.

Stupid HTML! Hulk smash!

OK, please disregard the prior two posts.

This, in fact, is the file in question.

No, I'm not drubk.

Yes you are. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

I LOVE YOU, COWBOY SALLY!

No, I'm not drubk.

Why the hell not?

*drools, topples slowly backward*

Oh, man I gotta mop up this mook's drool again? Screw it, kid, I'm just letting you lie there.

Ok, yes. I *am* drunk.

What are any of youse gonna do about it, huh?

::shakes fist, falls under desk::

I LOVE YOU, COWBOY SALLY!

Then perhaps you'd care to come to our meetings! Tuesdays and Thursdays at 7 in the rec center, bring your favorite Cowboy Sally story and/or picture, some of that new KY warming lotion, and a refreshment to share (mixers provided).

::shakes fist, falls under desk::

Someone hand me my pancho and a spritzer, I'm going in.

*adjust web gear*

Uh meester? I am flattered, but the web gear chafes so.

Pancho? What about Cisco, man??

Cause, the Cisco kid, he was a friend of mine.

What a buncha fookin' apes. And I mean that in the best possible way.

The Cisco Kid?

Wrangle them data packets!

Pancho, you chicken-ass! Chafey webgear my butt.

You wanna see a buncha fookin' apes?

Ha! My first paper plate shout out. Thanks, Astorians!

So, Vidiot my man, tell us about your friend Bari...?

Aye, thar be apey goodness, lads.

what did you want to know, Fes? Former co-worker of Jon's. Joined us at Blogger Karaoke a couple of times. All-around nice gal.

Wow, everyone, look at vidiot dancing around that question! Who says white guys got no rhythm?

I kid because I love.

Quoi? Dance? I did ask, "what exactly did you want to know?" So tell me, c_s: what exactly are you trying to say here...besides that someone evidently talked?

Dude, I didn't say a word. I haven't spoken to fes outside of here in weeks (and I feel neglected)...

but body language speaks volumes....

It does, doesn't it?

(I kid, as sally does, because I love.)

the phrenology head still hasn't called me back, you know.

He didn't need to talk, Vidiot - you have told us everything we need to know! Bwahahahahaha!

OK, not everything. Hence the question. It's damned difficult to live vicariously through you people sometimes.

It's fickle like that, Jon. If you like, you can take it home with you sometime and put it on your porch.

Sometimes, at night, I can feel it watching me. Its sightless eyes bore into me, knowing my darkest secrets, and it stands in mute disapproval of everything I stand for.

Well. Usually that's only after I get really hammered.

Wow. I've never had anyone wanting to live vicariously through me before. I'm flattered.

Now that that's settled...what are we going to do about this poor fellow?

Live my life for a while, and the flattery aspect diminishes considerably :)

I'm just grateful that Little Timmy did not go backasswards off the porch wall in his drubken state.

Who says white guys got no rhythm?

You mean--

"I'm not? You mean I'm gonna STAY this color?"

Little Timmy as a monkey.

Wow. An old class photo. Niiice, Thom.

As Timmy's personal spokesmodel, I gratefully accept donations of cash, resellable merchandise, all-expenses-paid travel packages or methylated spirits on his behalf.

Timmy scared everyone away. How sad.

Yeah, Timmy and Jeremy Halcote both.

Although (he said, continuing to whistle in the dark) it is nice that Amadeus is finally getting some love.

I wish I was in Norway.

With Lena Olin.

Yes, dammit, I know she's Swedish.

I am going to Indiana tomorrow. That is like Norway, only without the lutfiske. And no Lena Olin. But more John Mellenkamp. And college basketball.

Actually, not like Norway at all, really.

Oh dear, now you've got me pining for the fjords.

Pining for the Fords?

(Actually, something makes me think Jon and Betty wouldn't get along too well.)

Funny, I thought Ford was a pine. or perhaps an oak.

After reading you two's horrible puns, I feel a lot better about emitting the occasional filthy haiku.

So if you wrote your haikus at night, would they be nocturnal emissions?

And if you wrote them in the Gents' at least once a day, would they then be diurnal emissions?

Ugh. That's TERRIBLE.

(Well done, Chico!)

Hi!

Adam! Hi to you, too, and to AW and the little monkey.

Hi!

How! iIi/[a raised hand]

Look! It worked!

Hi Adam!

A note about posting images:

We encourage users to post images, especially those hilarous pics of monkeys wearing dresses or programming for Linux. But posting images that reside on someone else's server is considered by many to be bandwidth theft. Our thoughts on the matter, along with some solutions to the problem, can be found here. Thanks.

In an effort to help eliminate spam (and to preserve the sanity of the 9622 Volunteer Simian Spam-Cop Brigade) all threads older than 30 days will now be closed to comments.

Name:


Email Address:


URL:


Comments:

Remember me?