You know what makes great revenge? Scaring the crap out of someone holding a gun.

Yep, that’s a wholesome prank. But not quite as safety-conscious as the people who decided the best way to wake their friend up was to tie exploding firecrackers to his shoe…

I believe I’ve shown that one here before, though. Here’s one you may also be familiar with, but will never grow old. I don’t know what that family did to anger their dog, but his revenge proves most explosive:

Bad dog! Blew up our campsite! No treats! But there’s really no harm like harm done to one’s self.

My favorite part, the guy saying “It’s not stupid!” at the beginning, right before the star gets his crotch blown off.

I’m sorry for being absent, and I promise to explain myself soon. For now, stay out of the heat, enjoy your summery foods, have safe firework fun, and Happy 4th!

Let me tell you a tale, my friends. A tale of selfless heroism, cuteness beyond reason, and the threat of impending doom to my face.

As I’m sure you’re aware, summer is in full swing here in the Northern Hemisphere. This means, among other things, ducklings are beginning to pepper the land; wherever there are bodies of water, fluffy little bodies scamper.

The event in question occurred a few days after my graduation. I’d returned to campus with my friend K to help out at the school’s television station for the afternoon. At lunch break, we headed out of the building along the west side. Up against the side of the building, I noticed a lady mallard sitting with three fuzzy little babies at her side. I quickly drew K’s attention to the sight, but noticed something amiss.

The sound of baby ducks peeping filled the air, but not one of the three ducklings in view was making a sound. Where were the little cries coming from? From about seven other little duckies who were lost. They were blocked from the mother by a wall, thusly:

Oh dear!

As you may be able to decipher, the rest of the duck family was trapped in on a ledge where the mother had built her nest under a small decorative tree. It was a very clever place for a nest, but now the ducks could not find their mother on the other side of the four foot divider between the tree and the steps where she waited.

K and I sprang into action!

I immediately hopped the concrete divider into the mulched area where the ducklings were. They began scampering around frantically at the sight of me, and I was nearly overcome by the sheer cuteness of the sight.

I began scooping up the ducklings, one by one, and passing them over the wall to K, who stood beside mother duck and lowered them each down. The air was filled with the peeps of panicked ducklings, waddling around at top speed to avoid my grasp. Little did they know I was helping them; but I was not annoyed. How could you be upset with this:

D'awwww...

As much as K and I would have liked to pause a moment and cuddle the little rascals, there was no time. The Mama duck was getting nervous at our presence, and was slowly starting to edge away. We couldn’t let her go before all the ducklings were safely delivered to her side of the barrier!

Soon, with the power of TEAMWORK, we had every last baby mallard on the correct side of the divide. But mother had already decided to run away at top speed. In her haste she left behind a duckling, who in its frenzied panic, was running uselessly around in circles until she was out of sight around the corner.

Now began the duck chase.

I quickly snatched up the confused duckling and ran after the mother duck, calling after her to wait. Only in retrospect to I realize how incredibly stupid that sounds, as I sincerely doubt that duck could understand English. All the people on campus, however, could, and I can only imagine how retarded I looked chasing a duck across campus…with another duck.

When I caught up to the mother duck, she wheeled around defensively, and I saw my life flash before my eyes. She opened her beak in a threat and spread her wings. I knew I had but a brief moment to save my face from utter destruction, for in a moment I knew she would lunge for my delicate nose.

The face of doom.

I quickly tossed the fluffy baby onto the grass at her feet. Appeased, the mother duck lowered her wings and turned to go, ten yellow striped ducklings following her in a row.

I now almost wish I’d followed her to see where she was going - the nearest lake was in the opposite direction. But I’m sure she had it under control.

Now I don’t claim that this event has made me some kind of hero, or duck savior…but I’m pretty sure history will show that I totally was.

First, the fight broke out at a Waffle-House. Second, it’s because the customers wanted to pay for their food.

Third, a waffle was actually thrown aggressively. Fourth, I really can’t gather any more information from that article because it’s presented so weirdly. That article makes about as much sense as the alleged attack, frankly.

Just remember folks…don’t pay or be shot?

Well the movies those trailers were promoting is now available online, at Youtube (and hopefully, more sites soon)! It’s a full-length film, made entirely by student volunteers with free equipment provided by their university. It’s a romantic comedy with some fun characters and smart jokes, and I know you’ll get a kick out of it. Ladies and Gentlemen: Love Olympus!

That’s just part one. Check out the rest of them here! It’s altogether about 90 minutes long, so make time for it. And if you make it all the way through, do tell me what you think!

World’s Largest Cheeto and the Optimus Maximus from Gizmodo on Vimeo.

Weird though. All I can see is the World’s Biggest Ham.

Zing.

Second of all, I don’t know how many of you own iPhones, but if you do, could you let me know what the “i” is for? Third of all, while you’re answering that question, you can go ahead and look over here at this app for the iPhone which allows you to take pictures you have of yourself and your friends and turn them into…egg…things.

Thanks to whoever sent this in. I got a laugh out of it. I don’t own an iPhone or anything, but just the idea that this exists helps me sleep better.

Happy Wednesday!

This cat doesn’t satisfy himself by going out into the fields, killing mice and birds, then littering the tiny corpses across his owner’s lawn and porch. Nor is he content destroying sofas, carpets, and balls of twine. This cat has a hunger…for CRIME.

Jack doesn’t just go into his neighbor’s yards. He goes into their houses, and he makes away with their personal items. Underwear seems to be his top target, though he reportedly also has taken “hats, shorts and 27 pairs of gloves.”

If Jack were smart, he’d try his paw at maybe some jewelry or a television set, but whatever floats his boat I guess.

Countdown until the owner realizes the crafty potential of this potential partner in crime.

Among the poorly packed-up papers and souvenirs I came across a program from a community play I’d gone to years ago. Memories flooded back, not of the play, but of the mystery surrounding the logo of the Illinois Art Council. We discovered this logo while glancing over the program; we discovered not only that Tzaichovsky was not mentioned anywhere (it was a production of the Nut Cracker), but also this.

It’s a logo, featuring a strange silhouette over what seems to be a black magic carpet.

But what is it? We puzzled throughout the entire evening over what the thing could possibly be. Think you know? Look again. Figured it out yet?

I was at a total loss, but I asked around. When I asked my friends what the image could be, I received several theories, but these four were recurring:

1. We thought that it might be a cat, with no arms, sitting on a pedestal, with a feather behind its ear, while its face explodes.

boom

2. Then we thought it might be a cat with no arms (front legs, whatever), a feather behinds its ear, and a fish in its mouth, thus.

Ahm nom nom

3. Then we took it in another direction and thought it might be a one-winged flying snail, in the midst of a take-off (notice the white “whoosh” of air beneath it).

highly unlikely

4. Then again, it might be an optical illusion much like the two faces/vase thing. So we re-focused our eyes, and lo! we found we were looking on two people with enormous chins, the one on the right with a poor dental situation obviously trying to harm the woman on the left, who in self defense is blowing snot into her attacker’s face…see for yourself.

No.

Ultimately, after all my asking around, the internet proved to have the answer. And it’s not nearly as cool as I should have liked it to be.

It just goes to show you: knowledge is boring.

In the UK, a friendly horse named Pandora is suffering for no apparent reason other than nature just really, really, really likes being a gigantic jerk 100% of the time.

This horse is allergic to grass. Grass.

Grass.

It’s bad enough being a human with allergies. But if we’re allergic to peanuts or eggs or cats we have technology on our side to help build up the perfect sheltered lifestyle to fit our individual needs. However, a horse being allergic to grass is basically like me being allergic to electric-generated light sources or the hum of a refrigerator or sound.

Pandora can’t go grazing in the field with the other ponies. Pandora can’t even go walking in the field without wearing a full-body anti-grass horse suit.

Nope.

So thanks, nature, for causing another completely pointless problem. And you know what else? It’s been in the sixties all week but tonight we’re expecting six inches of snow. Snow in late March The daffodils were just blooming, nature! JUST BLOOMING.

GAH.