It had been five years since Dr. Harry Dickpimple was humiliated and excommunicated from the science community. In retrospect, attempting a real-life emulation of the experiment shown in the movie The Human Centipede wasn’t exactly an honorable pursuit. But he was out to prove the naysayers and mockers wrong. He was going to show them that he wasn’t a crazy maniacal mad-scientist… he was an uncelebrated genius.
The project he was currently working on had consumed every waking moment of those five years. He was going to create living toys. It was unlike anything ever heard of, and the ramifications would prove to be legendary. He would patent and sell the technology to sex doll companies, children’s toy companies, pet toy companies, and every conceivable “toy” company that exists. And even better, God himself had told him to make it through a miraculous revelation.
His inspiration came about while pulling an all-nighter drug binge. Over the course of the night, he had smoked two ounces of weed (Northern Lights strain), did thirteen blotters, snorted three lines, crushed a 12-pack of O’Douls (which he did not know was non-alcoholic), and huffed a fair amount of ether and paint singlehandedly. In his subsequent late-night rush to find a 24-hour restaurant to satisfy his munchies – someplace besides fucking Denny’s – he stumbled across a homeless man with a pet spider monkey.
Posted in Storytime
Tagged AIDS, beer, Binky, coke, Denny's, dickpimple, drug binge, ether, fiddle faddle, for sale, handcuffs, HIV, huffing, human centipede, LSD, Mickey Mouse, monkey, movies, munchies, northern lights, pog, scooby doo, skim milk, toy, uno, Walgreen's, wallaby, weed
I should have known that me + a couple friends + a bottle of 151 = the worst combination ever.
It was New Years Eve a few years ago and a couple friends and I decided to get a bottle of 151 to celebrate with. This was the first mistake of the night. You see, when drunk, I am very easy to anger. Add 151 to the mix and it is apparently very easy to turn me into a raving, demonic lunatic.
Posted in Life in the Pipe
Tagged 151, 252, cops, demon, escape, ex, fat piece of shit, instigation, mission, new years, retarded, stairs, tripping, trolley
Recently I came across a newer meme: the Joseph DuCreux Archaic Rap pictures. I had seen someone quote the one satirizing Jay-Z on a messageboard and instantly loved the meme:
It took me a bit to google around and find the source of the quote and the story behind the meme. Another good source is a simple google image search. The great thing about the pics is that some of them are really challenging to figure out what song is being parodied.
Anyways… this all got me to thinking about other “white rap” satire/parodies, and I started recalling all these hilarious videos I have seen over time, that feature white rapping, or “wrapping”, as I like to call it.
So, here for your enjoyment, are the videos…
Posted in Musings
Tagged ali g, archaic rap, bill maher, borat, flight of the conchords, freestyle, jay-z, jon lajoie, Joseph DuCreux, lipton, meme, parody, rap, rap battle, satire, t-pain, text to speech, translation, weird al, white, wrap
Being the good friends that we are, Peck and I have been seeking out possible solutions to our problem. After hours upon hours of arduous brainstorming and grueling think-tank conditions, we weren’t getting anywhere. Until we glanced at the title of this post series, and our brains went from brain-farts to brain-cumming-in-our-skulls (along with a mental post-coital cigarette).
The solution to our problem was finally in our grasp! Byuaww! The plan was simple – get him to hug us and beg for full forgiveness.
The only problem was that it’d be hard to go from his aphenphosmphobia to courageous and spontaneous hugs . Our enlightening findings from the World of Hugs allowed us to formulate a master plan, which takes baby steps and eventually climaxes with a hug between us and him, and hopefully, redemption.
This is the story of how SensiBoy tried to choke me out in the parking lot of a Chili’s restaurant. But first, some backstory.
My company was leaving our offices in San Diego and doing some work in Tampa for a couple weeks. We were rooming in a little condo complex out in town, and had to drive 30-40 minutes to get to our workplace. The transportation for myself and everyone in the neighboring offices was an annoying and cramped mini-van from hell; it was a soccer mom’s wet dream.
Have you ever had a friend that is too sensitive about shit talk and the like? The kind of person who takes things WAY too personally and is too thin-skinned, even though they are well aware of your sense of humor and what it entails? This story is about one such friend… let’s just call him SensiBoy. And to offer some more background on his personality, he is also the kinda guy who shows no outward signs of being annoyed/bothered by shit until it’s too late and his inner dragon unleashes its ejaculation of hellfire right in your fucking face.