The Discreet Charm of the Middleclass

As Seen on TV: What did you do? part two...

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 03:48:00 +0000

Part one

And then there is the other one, some stain remover. Who knows they are all the same. So two little dipshits play in the kitchen enjoying the ambiance, the smell, and a healthy dose of dubbed soundtrack. They are about to eat lunch, maybe tea, its light out so maybe the are heavily religious. Because as we all know its one of the key hallmarks of the satanic traditions to eat tea at four o'clock in the afternoon.

“Hey watch me I can flip the pizza like the people in the shop”, Oh can you? Oh snap cunt, no you can't, stained pants. Nightmare. I imagine every women reading this is now in the fetal position on the floor, slowly coming to grips with the huge dimensions of what this kids poor mother will have to deal with. And in she walks.

She takes one look at the kids pants, covered in pizza sauce, one look at the pizza on the floor, another look at the kid, then produces a large belt from behind her back. She then goes about whipping the kid a new color for the next few minutes whilst yelling at him about wasting food, starving Norwegian orphans, and how they are going to have to eat tofu for tea again tonight. At least that's where I always go when I see the advert.

How it actually happens is she bends down and says 'oh no, a stain', because shes a women and like I said last week, apparently women care about only a few things, stains how their house smells, and the sanitary condition of their cervix. Yep that's right don't punish the child, don't even dare look disappointed. Just fret on the fact that your impossibly white clothes have come to resemble your once perfect neighborhood, all white apart from that one bit down the end... Oh come on its one step away, I can make that link if I want to.

And of course in steps the obligatory stranger in the logo emblazoned shirt. The one that apparently lives in every single home just waiting for a stain emergency to appear. And snap problem solved, your perfect white power dream is now back to reality, if only the Chans could be dealt with as easily. The little freak wasted an entire pizza... and all she cares about is the stain. I'll ask the question again. Women, what the hell does the advertising industry think of you?

But it continues, the pizza is now gone, placed in the bin or hurled over the fence probably. And the mother asks 'well whats for tea'. Greasy chips... greasy chips, he says. Greasy chips means stains, but don't worry mum, don't fret your pretty little head, your pretty little anal retentive as a Swedish arse festival head. And anyway, stains from chips... really? What the hell are you doing with them? Granted chips can be fairly erotic, but when rubbing the sensuously all over ones person you're usually naked!

I'm out, catch you Thursday peeps...

Saturday Serial

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 03:28:00 +0000

Last week Young Cardinals

Part 35: See a penny, pick it up...
Only a few of them had. The Major stood at the lip of the hole for a second looking down at the bodies. He didn't seem impressed or angry, he didn't seem anything really. His face blank and expressionless. He looked up at Brigazzo who was standing next to him.

“Collect what supplies you can and head back” He said, it wasn't clear to who but Brigazzo leaped down in the hole and started sifting through the leftovers. There wasn't to much not damaged but he managed to go through and find a few rifles some ammo and a MP40 that seemed to be in working order. Dunn stood at some distance, he didn't know whether he wanted to look in the hole, he'd heard from a few guys back at basic what a grenade could do.

“Come with me Dunn” The Major said walking over into the distance to a group of the soldiers. Bertram and Lansell, stood with Wilson, a short distance from where they had been encamped. Lansell turned when the Major came over and started talking.

“Major, we just rounded a corner and walked into it, I guess no one found a penny today” Lansell said taking his helmet off and running his hands through his hair. Dunn couldn't see through the group what they were standing around, but he could take a safe guess. He looked around the area slowly, tracing his eyes over everything, the rocks and trees other people but one thing was missing. Fawlkes.

“Dunn, take the browning off Dorsey... Doresy grab Fawlkes we have to get out of here before we get another surprise” The Major said, Dunn stood were he was, a little taken aback by the sight as the group cleared around Fawlkes. His eyes open, hands still clenching the stock of his rifle. In his chest a cavernous bloody hole, but Dunn didn't notice that, he was just transfixed on the eyes. It was made worse by the fact it was someone he'd known, someone he'd talked to. Even just a few hours ago. Dead, still, unresponsive, they stared out into the distance, glazed over and never ending peering out into the universe. Dunn could already make out a thin layer of dirt settling on them. The Major stepped in and bent down placing his hand over them, making sure they closed. He ripped the dog tags off and placed them in his pocket buttoning it back up after.

“Dunn... pick up the browning and start heading back” The Major said loudly but not yelling. Dunn still stared blankly at the body, he snapped back out of it as Dorsey handed him the Browning the smell of burnt gunpowder and smoke still emanating from the barrel. Dorsey then went and heaved the body up onto his shoulders and headed back into the jungle.

“Keep it close, and keep your eyes open... they know someones here, but they don't know who and they don't know where so lets just keep it that way.” The Major said to the few men standing around him.

“Give me your rifle Dunn” Wilson said quietly taking the garand from Dunn, he slung it over his shoulder and helped the kid sling the heavy browning back up to his shoulder. Dunn looked around everyone was quiet, but the birds. They'd all seemed to fly away before, right to this spot. They chirped and tweeted all around the area singing as they had all day like nothing had changed.

“What are you standing around for Dunn” Brigazzo said angrily pushing Dunn in the back to get him to move on. They didn't run but carefully and quickly moved on back to the cave, hopefully they would be safe there. Dunn was near the back but in the distance he could see Dorsey carrying Fawlkes, his body slumped over his friends shoulders, the blood starting to drip down Dorsey's back, Dunn guessed he wasn't really thinking about it. Dunn couldn't help but focus on the bloody mess that Fawlkes back was, the blood was sticky and darkly colored almost looking like molasses shining in the sun. He had to stop staring at it, it was making him sick very quickly. He did know though that he wanted someone to tell him how to feel, angry, sad, scared, no matter what he thought of it seemed wrong. It must have been the longest walk he'd ever been on, the sun slowly disappearing the the sky slowly darkening the cave beckoning like a five star hotel, Dunn just wanted to lie down. But he couldn't yet, Fawlkes still had one last place to go.

Adventures in the Public Domain: Tim Dawson

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 03:26:00 +0000

This week on Tim Dawson, the fiery conclusion...

Page Nine

The comics this spoof is based on is believed by the author of this blog to be public domain, if they are not then apologies and they will be removed post haste upon notification.

As Seen on TV: What did you do? part one...

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 03:00:00 +0000

Women what is it exactly you did in the company of the advertising people, to make them think you were complete raging fucktards? It must have been something pretty major, because I swear they must think you have the mental capacity of lobotomised frogs. Was there a meeting you and they had where they asked you a few questions and the only thing you answered with was, 'oh I can get that stain out if you like'. Far be it from me to question the logic and techniques of the advertising industry, being a twenty something male. All the adverts targeted at me are about sex, drugs and fast cars, and mostly at the same time.

And in honestly that's what we (twenty something males) care about. Hey what can I say, we are sick freaks. But ladies, I mean Jesus, apparently there is three things you care about. How your house smells, stains, and... freshness... you know, downstairs. But your love dungeon aside, what exactly happened along the line to make those first two things your key demos for marketing.

Lets take a look at the first example, I've talked about this company before. Airwick, the company that seems to see fit to categorise women into different classes by representing them as animals. The Ostrich is who we look at this time, I guess its about racist women then. Don't question my logic! Anyway advert opens Ostrich comes on screen talking about empty nesting when her son comes home. He wants her to do a load of his washing. Nicely she obliges because, lets face it shes a forty something housewife with no other life skills and nothing better to do, what else is going to happen, she hits the sauce and plays video poker?

Anyway it turns out all the clothes are already clean, signified by the fact they still have the shop tags on. Now this raises two questions first, who the fuck doesn't wash clothes from a shop before they wear them first, its just common sense. Unless you want to be another in the long line that is the herpes train. Secondly, why the hell is dipshit Mc'Ostrich visiting his mother? Answer, to smell. Yep that's right he came all the way to his mothers home, to smell. AIRWICK AIR FRESHENERS, BRIBE YOUR CHILDREN TO VISIT YOU WITH THE SCENT OF LAVENDER AND GUILT. What in the powerful levels of torque fuck are they on about?

Shit I know the one thing I love to do more than anything is go and smell peoples houses. Well after, lets say just a few things, its almost my favorite thing to do. Really? I mean really? Do they really think that's going to work? Your children will visit you if your house smells good. Of course we (the young and hip) don't really dig the smell of bleach and oatmeal that much. But unless your house smells of chocolate cake, marijuana, or hot lesbian sex then your adult son is not going to be enticed back to your house by the use of scent.

Saturday Serial

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 03:47:00 +0000

Last week Good books bad dreams...

Part 34: Young Cardinals
He still lay back in the grass, the sun had gone from over head and was behind some trees, it was mid afternoon. He could open his eyes now and the glare of the sun didn't bother him. Dunn hadn't noticed before but this island had some spectacular bird life on it, in the trees around him they hopped and sprung about, dancing along the branches. Noisily gabbing about and collecting seeds to eat. He could remember back when he was a kid looking out his snow covered window at the young cardinals swooping through the branches. To be free as a bird he thought. At one with the trees and leaves, the other birds gliding about on the currents of air. But that was a childish thought, one he couldn't afford now days. About him the other soldiers milled about many of either talking or laughing, the few that were on watch not really paying attention to what they should have been doing.

It had been about an hour or so since Dunns conversation with Smythe. He'd seemed to have forgotten about it by now, he and Wilson stood at the mouth of the cave joking about something and making lewd gestures. Well Smythe was, Wilson seemed more restrained than that, though he did smile the whole time so he couldn't have been that bothered by it. Dunn went back to watching the trees and the birds. They both swayed gently in the breeze, rocking to one side as if pulled by the lapping of the tides on the beach a short distance away. It was then he noticed that they flew away. All of them, the parrots, the finches, big and small they all took flight. And then the shots rang out. Dunn sat upright in the grass and watched the birds fly away, only grasping what the gun shots meant a few seconds later. The Major came straight out of the cave grimacing. He looked around the camp taking in who was there.

Fawlkes, Lansell and Bertram were missing out on recon patrol. Everyone stood in the clearing outside the cave, it was deadly silent, everyone waited for more shoots. The familiar crack of the a garand, or the pop of a carbine. They waited for those sounds but prayed they wouldn't hear them. But it was to late, following those words spoken to themselves came the catastrophic racket of a firefight. No one waited, to his surprise Dunn didn't either, as swiftly as the birds left, each of the men had taken up arms and taken off into the jungle headed straight for the melee. The shots became louder and louder, eventually giving way to the screams of either side trading orders and swears. Loudest of all were Lansells screams.

Dunn followed the Major sticking close to his back, Dunn thought it seemed odd he hadn't given any orders but maybe he didn't need to, they were all there anyway. He could make out Brigazzo through the trees a short distance away, Smythe just behind him, Wilson further than that, Ingham and Dorsey behind them in the deep distance. Dorsey lugging the Browning by himself, yet seeming to manage without effort at all. In the distance in front Dunn could make out the flashes and streaks of the bullets flying through the air, the thuds and cracks of bark being split from trees as they impacted with haphazard accuracy. It was almost impossible to tell who was who the two sides separated by such a short distance but both hidden down behind cover.

Dunn slowed up as the Major did, just to a jog, his eyes darted back and forth trying to make out who was who. In between the to skirmishing sides he noticed his clue, ran a few more feet then drew up his Thompson, through the trees and vines, yes! He could make out that was them. He turned and motioned to Dunn to keep going around to the left, just waving with his hand towards that part of the jungle. Dunn did so and kept running, for a second leaving his eyes on The Major. He stood there in the open for a second watching as the rest of the men find cover. The Major gently squeezed the trigger bracing himself for the recoil, pulling down on the barrel as he squeezed the trigger. He chewed through half a clip in a few seconds then took off behind Dunn. The enemy taking notice of his attack from the side. By then Dunn had flanked around the side and had a clear shot, he was ducked down behind a tree, clutching at his rifle, he span around and faced the enemy poking his head and rifle over the tree stump, he pulled the trigger once and nothing... the gun jammed, he span back down and hid grabbing on the action ripping at it trying to eject the jammed bullet.

Dorsey had made his way around to the right and began to lay down a heavy fire on the encamped soldiers. The bullets ripping into the cover they had making it hard for them to fire back. The Major took his chance and took off towards Dunn, the enemy now occupied. He slid in down next to Dunn and tossed the Thompson into Dunns lap. The barrel was hot and landed on Dunns armed burning it a little but he hardly noticed with what was going on. The Major pulled a grenade from his ammo satchel and readied to throw it, he pulled the pin and counted two before pitching it as hard as he could towards the foxhole. There was the slightest of pauses in between the grenade landing and the explosion. A dull thud and a shower of dirt spraying into the air. The shooting stopped on both sides. The Major grabbed his thompson from Dunn and stood up, slowly approaching the cloud of dust in front of him looking for any signs of life. To the right Brigazzo did the same making his way over through the bushes.

Looking down in the hole a few bodies lay silent, a mixture of blood, gore and dirt seeming to cover almost everything in a ten foot radius. Body parts strewn lazily around the place. The Major drew his pistol from its holster and shot the few bodies that were intact. It seemed a cold thing to do Dunn thought, but he hadn't seen what the Major had yet...

Next week See a penny, pick it up...

Adventures in the Public Domain: Tim Dawson

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 03:14:00 +0000

This week on Tim Dawson the party is ready, ARE YOU?

Page Eight

The comics this spoof is based on is believed by the author of this blog to be public domain, if they are not then apologies and they will be removed post haste upon notification.

A special entry: Daylight savings

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 04:13:00 +0000

So its Sunday (as I'm writing this), first day of daylight savings. So that makes it what, June? I hate daylight savings, you go to bed at the reasonable hour of 3.00 am and then wake up at 1.30 the next day, get up to eat breakfast and find out that its actually 4.00 in the afternoon. I'm not sure how that works kids. Its almost 7.00 pm now as I'm writing this and the sun doesn't even look like disappearing. Damn farmers. Just another thing in the long list of things I blame on them.

Went for a walk before, coming back towards home and on top of the hill I see a jogger approaching, female. I don't know what it is about me, well I'm definitely not the friendliest looking individual I'll give you that. Well built, shaved head, ominous at best, goatee. I'd imagine somewhere between extra from 'Romper Stomper' and rapist is probably where this look would sit, on the average passerby scale.

But the lil lady catches sight of me and makes a quick u turn. Now maybe I'm over reacting and its just because she had a dog with her. But its as if she thought I was going to just ogle her and make suggestive cooing noises as she ran past me. Which in all honesty I was because she looked a damn fine piece of skirt, a regular slice of crumpet if you know what I mean lads, hey, he he... you know... with... ah forget it. But I was honestly disappointed. It's not everyday a raven haired beauty apologises to me for her border collie trying to hump me. And we all need a little companionship don't we even if it is through a dog.

God that got weird. Anyway, soon humorblogs will require payment to have a blog listed there. Which I personally can't really see the value in. So I won't be. But Diesel has to do what he has to do, he maintained that site on his own time and dollar for a long time and he is to be commended for that. I'd just like to thank him for what he has done for the HB community.

See you Thursday...

Saturday Serial

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 07:16:00 +0000

Last week ...doesn't like monkeys

Part 33: Good books, bad dreams...
“So the dream... what was it, it must have been pretty hefty if your willing to read to figure shit out?” Dave asked.

“It was... I don't know its hard to explain, I was just in this black space...” Mike replied

“Like 'space'” Dave interrupted.

“No, there weren't any stars, and I could see everything, it was black but not dark. Then there was this priest and a tree and a snake, and then they asked me what I knew about Genesis” Mike said realising how odd it all sounded.

“And then you woke up and the shits were sticky?” Dave asked jokingly.

“No and then I woke up and you were there” Mike replied sounding little annoyed.

“And my sheets were sticky?” Dave asked next making his voice go uncomfortably high at the end.

“Why am I friends with you?” Mike said putting the question out there.

“Default really, who else was going to get drunk and watch 'dragon ball' with you” Dave replied smiling. Mike smiled back

“Well as long as you realise that” He said

“What are you doing now?” Dave asked getting up out of his seat, Mike didn't speak back he just held up the bible and and then dropped it again.

“Alright, I'm going to check on some stuff, I'll catch you later” Dave said wandering away to the table with the women.

“Hello ladies, I believe there is a room full of tiny little pussies, who wants to come and play with them with me?” He asked loudly and obnoxiously cutting through the conversation they were having. He smiled at them cheesily and to Daves and Mikes surprise they agreed.

“Well... that's just a bad call on their behalf” Mike said to himself watching them all follow Dave out along the corridor to find the kittens. He sighed and then picked up the book deciding if he was going to read it he probably should make a start on it. He flipped opening the cover and looked at it... hmm, it was true, they must have been ninjas.

“God I'm bored already, alright index, 's'... for snake” Mike said talking as he went through the motions flicking through the pages to find the one he wanted. He took a deep breath and started reading.

“Adam and Eve you freaky naked mother fuckers” Mike said not realising he had company sitting across from him.

“I didn't realise you were religious” Jopol commented taking a sip from his mug.

“What... oh no, its about the dreams I've been having, I thought I'd follow them up” Mike said a little surprised by Jopol being in front of him.

“What are they about?” Jopol inquired

“Snakes, trees, priest, and Genesis” Mike smiled back

“Satan, knowledge, and Phil Collins... thats pretty messed up man” Jopol replied taking the bible that Mike had put back on the table, sick already of reading.

“You don't want to see in Daves head then” Mike said rolling his eyes.

“You know anything about Genesis, I'd read it but well, its so much effort” Mike asked

“Yeah, I had to go through this when I was a kid, The snake was Satan, or his representative I think, and he tempted Eve to eat the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil”

“An apple?” Mike asked

“No, it would have been a fig tree... of the knowledge of good and evil” Jopol explained

“And then they got thrown out of the Garden of Eden.” He added a second later

“The fat bitch” Mike murmured

“Its always the women that cause the problems” Jopol replied raising his eyebrows and taking another drink from his mug.

“Well what does that mean to me and why am I dreaming it?” Mike asked pleading for some sort of help. Jopol considered his answer for a second before talking.

“Maybe someones trying to communicate with you” He said gesturing with his eyes upwards.

“The worlds in trouble if I'm the one he's coming to” Mike replied

“Well maybe its...” Jopol answered this time pointing down and raising his eyebrows. Mike laughed back, it was a funny thought. Until he thought on it a bit more, what if it was true. He wasn't religious, he never had been, and always intended never to be. But once the thought was in his head it was hard to shake loose. Well it could be worse he guessed, being the devils play thing had to at least half way exciting.

Next week Young Cardinals

Adventures in the Public Domain: Tim Dawson

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 05:29:00 +0000

This week on Tim Dawson... Satay Sauce?

Page Seven

The comics this spoof is based on is believed by the author of this blog to be public domain, if they are not then apologies and they will be removed post haste upon notification.

Yep, thats right no more humorblogs... sadface.

A special entry: Monday

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 04:17:00 +0000

Monday... I'm really starting to hate Mondays. Not that I loved them before, but now its starting to get ridiculous. Oh well.

Spent the weekend watching the grand final. AFL, if anyone cares, Geelong vs Saint Kilda, Geelong won, in what turned out to be a fairly interesting match actually. I'm not really a fan of AFL but hanging out in a mates back yard with a boot load of piss and a fair whack of meat to fry is always going to be appealing. But it was arse fuck cold as well. I'm not quite sure what that measure of temperature figures out to in Fahrenheit, but it was chilly.

So after the game we lit a fire, huddled around and continued to drink. Well they did, I was out of beer and decided to call it quits, soft I know, but I kind of sensed the type of night that was going to follow. Of course being in a suburban area, my mates house didn't really have that much wood just lying around, so after starting the fire with metho and cardboard. We procured some wood the only way we knew how. By ~~stealing~~ borrowing the pallets from the houses still being built. Ah treated pine, you burn brighter than the sun.

It was an odd night, there was an encounter with a neighbour who may or may not have been quite attractive, and may or may not have been of legal age. Its hard to tell when all you can see is the shadowy outline of them waving in their bathroom window. And that's not a euphemism, they were actually waving watching us through their bathroom window, and why wouldn't you be watching a bunch of ~~naked~~ drunk blokes.

Then the fire jumping started... which to me is still a mystery, maybe I was the only one sober, but for some reason the risk of 3rd degree burns to major parts of your body becomes completely acceptable once you have consumed enough alcohol. Who am I to judge though, I've been told at a recent social event I fell on a dog, and that's not a euphemism either. It was around about the time the host attempted to jump the wheelie bin full of empties and didn't make it, and almost rolled into the fire that I decided yeah, I should ~~get the fuck outta dodge~~ go home and have some toast and a lie down.

All in all a good weekend...

humor-blogs.com fire jump at every opportunity...

Saturday Serial

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 02:00:00 +0000

Last week Who wants to get a medal?

Part 32: ...doesn't like monkeys
Mike stood outside the bridge of the ship staring forward into the ocean, his hands clasped tight against the railing the spray hitting his face out in the distance the clouds grey darker, a storm approached cutting a grey and black swathe across the horizon impeding the journey to Europe. He'd taken the opportunity to have a wander around the ship, check out the nooks and crannies maybe familiarise himself with the place he might call home. Beside him, the Captain wandered over, and began putting on his wet weather gear.

“You might want to gear up if you're going to be outside Mike, looks to be quite a storm heading our way.” The Captain said pulling the coat over his shoulders and lifting the hood over his head. Mike took a second before answering.

“I think you might be right” Mike said thinking more metaphorically than he should have been. He turned to face the Captain but hadn't noticed him walk away a few moments ago. He'd better go find Dave and make sure he was tightly secured, he thought to himself. He wandered back down the stairs and down into the bowels of the ship.Yuri catching sight of him down the corridor called out his name

“Mike... hey, I got that bible you wanted” Yuri said jogging to catch up with Mike. He stood there and waited for Yuri to come to him.

“Here, you should be careful, the storm should hit us in an hour or so so stay below if you can” Yuri said helpfully patting Mike on the arm and wandering off down the corridor, he to pulling on wet weather gear and heading out onto the deck to make sure everything was secure.

“Thanks Yuri, I will” Mike said staring down at the bible he'd been handled, again not noticing someone walking away from him. He found himself alone looking down an empty corridor stretching out along either side of him.

Dave sat transfixed by the table of Nordic women a short distance away from him, they sat and laughed taking in the ambiance and enjoying each others company. He would look for a second then turn away letting his eyes drift back to them to take in the sights. They were all blonde, tallish with smooth skin, and still looked ravishing even in crusty dungarees and wet weather boots.

“Their standards are way to high” Mike said as he sat down across from Dave and noticed what he was staring at.

“Yeah” Dave sighed taking in one last visual gulp then turning to his friend.

“Whats that?” He questioned looking in Mikes hand.

“Bible” Mike replied rather unexcited.

“Here give us a look I want to check how many cubits my arc should be” Dave said reaching out and taking the bible from Mike.

“Noah's, or covenant?” Mike asked

“Whats the difference?” Dave replied with a question, his face screwing up a little.

“I don't think you need to put newspaper down for the covenant” Mike answered turning in his chair and looking around the room, stopping and lingering on the table of women.

“What?” Dave said puzzled.

“Never mind” Mike replied not wanting to go into details about what he thought was a rather clever poo joke.

“What do you want a bible for anyway?” Dave asked tossing it back after leafing through a few of the pages.

“It was that dream, its just annoying me, I thought since I had nothing better to do I'd check it out” Mike said back picking the book up and opening it. He flicked through a few pages to the contents page.

“Ahhhh balls”

“I wonder how many people have passed on the word of god because they couldn't be bothered reading that much” Dave said guessing what the pained grown was for.

“Like you can talk the most you've read is the interests of the models in a skin mag” Mike replied.

“Jesus, is twenty seven likes long walks in the sand, carpentry and has an aversion to nail guns. His turn ons are wine, dinner parties, his turn offs are... space travel and... monkeys?” Dave said putting a smooth low voice.

“Jesus doesn't like monkeys?” Mike pondered out loud whilst trying not to smile.

“Hey I was surprised as well... he's got a great fillet though” Dave exclaimed rather distastefully. To which Mike lost his shit and slammed his head on the table.

“Hahahahahaha... now that's going to haunt me for a while” Mike laughed, before the conversation went oddly silent.

“Are we fucked man?” Dave asked playing with his hands looking at them intently.

“I don't know man” Mike said pausing halfway through “I guess we'll just have see”

Next week Good books bad dreams...

humor-blogs.com is crazy powerful...

I'm lazy get over it.

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 09:19:00 +0000

Kakaka yeah!

The Pitch: Nixon Goes to Hell

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 04:16:00 +0000

What... fuck its Monday again already. I don't know where does the time go. OK, post idea, idea for a post. Um, shiiiiiit, I don't know. Alright movie idea, Kennedy era white house, no... Nixon era. What he was a better president. And no one was going to stick that salt lick anywhere near their mouths. So Nixon finds a gate to hell behind a closet in the Lincoln suite, its where Bubba installed the hot tub during his reign... so sequel.

Anyway Nixon finds a gate to hell and decides for a laugh, lets go through it. Once he does go through it though, it opens the door wide open and stuff starts to poor back through. Horrible things, like demons, ghosts and... pickles... I'm so lonely... So when Nixon comes back through the white house is just crazy like... you know like, like that. And of course its the eve of the visit from Mr Russian the leader of Russia, and his hot wife Rosario Dawson, played by herself.

So Nixon has to shove all the demons and ghosts back through the gate and get shit cleaned up before Mr Russia rocks up the next morning. Its kind of like Ghostbusters meets Thirteen Days, but with hot steamy lesbian love scenes and a lot more decapitation. Starring Samuel L. Jackson as Richard Nixon and Burt Reynolds as the surly but lovable Donald Rumsfeild. Its danger, intrigue, comedy, ludicrous amounts of violence, and hardcore pornography wrapped into one neat little package. 'Nixon goes to hell' coming summer 2013...

Hey, Knock knock...
And the Barmen says...
About 140 pounds...

humor-blogs.com Doesn't think this will work...

Saturday Serial

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 03:59:00 +0000

Last week Dreams of Phil Collins

Part 31: Who wants to get a medal?
Dunn lounged with his eyes open out in the grass. His arms stretched out relaxing for the first time in a few days. His legs, his arms, his whole body sore from the previous day. The Major was a few feet away talking to Dorsey, Brigazzo and Wilson about exactly what as going on. And for the first time Dunn didn't care. He was happy, maybe contented, a better term, content to just go with the flow. Maybe that was the secret to soldiering, to just follow orders, go where the men in the big hats told you to, and kill whomever looked at you wrong. Dunn couldn't help it after that, his thoughts went back to his encounter in the jungle, the two Japanese soldiers. Surely they would have been missed by now, two people don't just disappear. Well in Dunn's experience they didn't. Smythe sat a few feet away from Dunn, his boots off, feet hoisted up in the air sitting on a rock.

“So Dunn, the army... hows that working out for you?” Smythe asked, his voice making it hard to tell whether he was being serious or not.

“Its, well, its definitely exciting” Dunn replied looking to the side at Smythe for a second, the blades of grass obscuring him a little for sight.

“I mean its not really what I expected when I joined up” Dunn said looking back at the sky.

“You joined?” Smythe asked

“Yeah... I guess I thought...” Dunn replied.

“You thought wrong Dunn” Smythe replied cutting him off mid sentence. There was no doubt whether or not Smythe was being serious this time. He had nothing but concern in his voice.

“You were conscripted?” Dunn asked sitting up in the grass.

“Yeah, after my little brother volunteered. He would have been your age, ran off as soon as the japs laid into pearl harbour.” Smythe said then pausing and taking a few breathes.

“What happened?” Dunn murmured, he knew straightaway he shouldn't have asked the question.

“Didn't make it four steps from the landing craft...” Smythe said sliding his boots on and walking away. Dunn watched him as he went, disappearing back into the cave, he didn't he realise that the Major was standing behind him.

“Don't worry Dunn, Smythe is a different kind of soldier. He'll be fine” The Major said.

“Yes sir, I probably shouldn't have asked him...” Dunn said quietly regretting his questioning.

“Dunn, you could ask anyone in the squad and they would all have a story to tell, one day, you will to. War is just shooting at someone for a reason you probably won't know or care about... in the end the only hard part is placing a flag over one of your friends.” The Major said looking out into the distance.

“Yes sir” Dunn replied agreeing with the sentiments. One day he would to... Dunn never wanted to admit it but that was the harsh truth. He just hoped that one day wasn't coming soon.

“So you volunteered?” The Major asked

“Yes, I didn't realise it was so contentious” Dunn answered

“It's just that Smythe... when he found out his brother died, he got two letters that day, the first was the death notification... the second was the”

“The draft notice” Dunn said interrupting The Major sensing the cruel twist to the tale from a mile away.

“Most of the guys here were drafted, I think its only you and me that volunteered” The Major said sitting down on the rock nearby.

“They always worry that people that volunteered want to be heroes... and that's the last thing you want the next to you to want... a chest full of brass means all your friends are dead.” The Major said solemnly.

“So why did you sign up sir” Dunn asked. The Major sat silent for a second, Dunn though he wouldn't answer for a second till he finally did.

“I wanted to be a hero...” He replied softly before walking away as well leaving Dunn sitting by himself. He lay back down in the grass and closed his eyes again the sun still seeping through his eye lids the orange glow getting brighter as the clouds cleared. It was a cooler day than the ones before and Dunn was enjoying his rest.

Next week ...doesn't like monkeys

humor-blogs.com is a hero...

Adventures in the Public Domain: Tim Dawson

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 05:28:00 +0000

This week on Tim Dawson, choking and revenge

Page Six

The comics this spoof is based on is believed by the author of this blog to be public domain, if they are not then apologies and they will be removed post haste upon notification.

humor-blogs.com doesn't like metaphors...

MicroFiction: Pengrove and Goran

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 04:43:00 +0000

“Come in sit down can I get you a drink?” Pengrove asks showing the man in his office to a spare seat. The man smiles and wanders over to the chair slowly sitting down whilst taking in the surroundings.

“Uh, no, no thank you I'm fine” He replies still smiling though a little awkwardly.

“So... Adrian, is it... you want to work for us” Pengrove asks leaning back in his chair

“Um, yeah I guess” He fixes his hair as he talks the van ride wasn't so bad but the bag had really messed up the product in his hair. He keeps looking around the office newspaper clippings scatter the walls all headlined with either 'Danger' or 'Disaster', or some other overblown description.

“What is it you actually do here?” Adrian asks focusing on the picture of the shapely robot woman with darts sticking out of it.

“We are a... what would you say we do here Goran?” Pengrove asks turning and looking out the missing wall into the rest of the lab. The entire office merely a TV set like construction of three walls and a large open space.

“Gee, that's a tough one, I'd say we're a global... transition, company” Goran suggested rolling his hand. He then went back to playing with the Tesla glove he was working on.

“Global transition” Pengrove said smiling back at Adrian.

“You guys try to take over the world?” Adrian mumbled.

“Yeah... you have a problem with that” Goran asked from out in the lab

“No... I used to work at google” Adrian replied

“Oh... impressive” Pengrove mutters taking down a few notes.

humor-blogs.com has been good to me over the years...

Saturday Serial

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 04:30:00 +0000

Last week lefty's lament...

Part 30: Dreams of Phil Collins
It was still black when he lit the lantern. The light was dim it seemed, though at the source almost brighter than he could look at. Holding it out in front of him looking, peering, straining his eyes to see into the distance. But he couldn't, everywhere around him was just pitch black. It wasn't dark though, he could see himself, his hands his legs. Every now and then it seemed even his shadow as well would flash into appearance.

He questioned to himself where he was, and what he was doing, whether it was safe to move. It looked like he was just floating in the middle of a black cloud, no end in any direction. He took a few steps, he didn't fall, the ground beneath him seemed solid enough so he took a few more, wandering on. It was strange walking but not seeming to get anywhere. Was he moving even. He placed the lantern at his feet and then walked away from it quickly turning after a few seconds to see where it was. It was some distance behind him so he'd obviously mastered movement somewhere along the line.

“This is pretty fucked up” Mike said to himself taking the time to scratch himself as he talked. He looked at the lantern for a second trying to decide whether to go back and pick it up, or just continue on with out it. He decided no, then turned back around and went to walk on, but he was stopped, there in front of him stood a priest.

“You'd really keep going without a lantern... that could be a fairly foolish decision. It might help you see where you're going” He said standing still and looking at Mike.

“Where am I going?” Mike questioned standing still and looking back at the priest.

“With the lantern you might be able to see that” The Priest said blankly.

“I'm using it to see where I've been” Mike said, the thought popping into his head, he felt rather tricky and clever saying that. He wondered for a second what the response would be.

“Very clever, you're very quick... but lets not pretend its any other reason than you're to lazy to go back and pick it up” The priest replied seeing through Mikes charade of intelligence. Mike considered flipping him the bird but instead he just stood there expressionless.

“Yeah, well so what... where am I?” Mike asked getting a little annoyed with the cryptic nature of what was, or rather wasn't going on. He thought for a second what his next question should be, and wondered whether he was going to get an answer to that one.

“That shall become obvious, later” The priest said taking a step away from Mike.

“You should follow me now” He said next walking away from Mike. Mike scratched his head and wondered if he should. It seemed like a bad and good idea rolled into one tidy package then bundled in a extremely confusing wrapping paper.

“Whatever” Mike murmured and wandered off behind the priest. They still strolled through the black background. It was only at that time did Mike see the tree in the distance. They were headed towards it.

“Whats the deal with the tree... and the ground... and all the black” Mike asked. The priest turned his head back for a second a look of quiet thought on his face.

“Lets just call it a suitable metaphor, for now” He said smiling. Mike wasn't happy with that answer but he wasn't in any situation to question what was going on.

“What does that mean?” Mike asked, his voice raising far further than masculinity usually allowed.

“Never mind for now” The priest responded as the two reached the tree. He stood next to it and gestured up into the branches, Mike took a step forward then immediately backed away as he saw the snake wrapped around the branches slither its way down to him. He looked at the priest for a second then turned back to the snake. It didn't seem to be angry or about to attack, but still it had Mike quite worried. Even still he wanted to grab it, like some impetuous child, it seemed to call for him to reach out and grab it. He looked at the priest and began to reach out his hand for the snake, it moved closer and so did Mike, beside him the priest asked Mike a question.

“So... Mike... what do you remember about Genesis?”

And like that he awoke with all the grace and humility of a sick wet cat, snapping awake Mike sat bolt upright in bed.

“Genesis?” He blurted out as he did, only to be greeted by Dave standing looking at him.

“Please tell me you're not dreaming about Phil Collins” Dave said screwing his face up.

“No...” Mike replied hazily.

“Not Gabriel... you know how I fee...” Dave said before being cut off mid sentence by Mike

“No... like the bible Genesis, I think” Mike replied.

Next week Who wants to get a medal?

humor-blogs.com doesn't like Peter Gabriel either...

Adventures in the Public Domain: Tim Dawson

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 04:28:00 +0000

This week on Tim Dawson action, adventure and stuff!

Page Five

The comics this spoof is based on is believed by the author of this blog to be public domain, if they are not then apologies and they will be removed post haste upon notification.

humor-blogs.com also wasn't touching his stuff...

A special entry: Karma, Ying and Yang

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 04:55:00 +0000

People are stupid, but you already know that don't you, you've been visiting this site for how long? If you haven't learnt that by now then, well maybe you're one of them, don't worry I wont tell. Yet. But yes people are stupid and annoying, for many reasons one of which I will investigate today.

And when I say investigate I really mean complain and rant, because that's how things work around here. And if it doesn't pan out then I'll swear for a bit and hope no ones reading. Which is likely. Karma, the force that binds the universe together, apart from of course physics the midichlorians, and the long noodly appendages of the great flying spaghetti monster. The belief that every action has a reaction... wait was that Newton... or Kennedy. Ha! physics and Australian cultural icons in the one joke, no ones going to get that are they?

Anyway Karma, some people believe in Karma, some sort of metaphysical force swirling around the ether designed to bitchslap or reward given the nature of its whim. Which is fine. But then some people seem to think that Yin and Yang have something to do with it as well. Those people that claim to be Buddhists, but still eat meat and like gay people, (its frowned upon in Buddhism kids look it up, they're not as loving and as tolerant as you think... fuck Tibet...)

If Yin and Yang were related to Karma here's how shit would work. You do something good for someone, yeah you'd have something good destined to come over the horizon like some shining white knight of goodness and cookies. But then to deal with the Yin and Yang part of it you'd then have to do something bad to even it out. Like help an old lady across the road, (the good in case you're wondering), and then stabbing her in the face with some BBQ tongs (the bad in case you're... you know that ones probably self explanatory isn't it), to make the universe even.

Yin and Yang are two opposite things, think of it as black and white, the universe is made up of equal amounts of each, nothing can ever get out of balance. It is balance. Karma is don't watch your neighbours fooling around in their pool because one day you'll end up locked naked in a phone booth with the handset glued to the talky end of your peen.

Yin and Yang isn't something you can exploit for reward, its like porn on the Internet, its just there, existing outside of the physical world. If you look for it, you'll, find... it. If you don't look for it, you'll find it anyway probably won't you. Bad example. Sure believe in Karma be good and believe that's why good things happen to you. But then lets switch back to the Yin and Yang... yeah you're being the bestest mo fucker (can I just say how happy it makes me that when you spellcheck 'mofucker' in blogger it actually suggests 'mo fucker' as a correct wording) you can possibly be, but that just means that there is an opposite out there...

humor-blogs.com believes in Kin Yarma!

Saturday Serial

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 07:00:00 +0000

Last week You Don't Name Meat...

Part 29: lefty's lament...
Mike still leaned on the railing looking over the edge of the boat into the darkness. Every now and then copping some spits of water from the ocean on his face. Behind him Dave appeared from the dark. He carried with him a few shot glasses. Jopol and Clause followed, wandering over they were all in different states of drunken disarray, Mike turned and Dave threw a shot glass to him.

“Catch” He said as he did, as usual it was way off target and flew low, quite low, impacting Mike in the groan.

“Oh god, 'lefty'” Mike yelped quickly doubling over.

“What do you call the right one then?” Clause questioned somewhat unseriously.

“Who says I wasn't talking about the right one?” Mike said getting back to his feet and wincing like he'd been stabbed.

“Wait so what's the left one called?” Jopol asked laughing

“Sponge Boy” Dave answered handing the shot glasses out and pouring the drinks.

“'lefty' doesn't play by the rules, he's a loner type of guy... oh god shit that smarts” Mike replied before going down again, and screaming a little.

“We had a lot of spare time on our hands” Dave said taking the shot in one then pouring another straight away. Mike remained on the ground and held his glass up to be filled, Dave granting his gestured request and poured him a shot glass full. Mike downed the drink in one then motioned for another. Dave poured it out slowly going right to the brim of the shot glass, Mike downed that one as well then got back to his feet, using the railing to pull himself up. He still gingerly poked around with the seat of his pants trying to get a comfortable position going.

“So apart from the dance parties... what else is there to do on the boat?” Dave asked spinning around and holding his arms at length.

“He gets bored when he's drunk, and it's best to keep him amused” Mike said pulling the bottle from Dave's grasp and pouring himself another shot.

“Why?” Jopol questioned something he would soon regret no doubt.

“Show him” Mike said pouring himself another drink. Dave turned around and removed his sweater, struggling a bit as he went, then he lifted up his shirt revealing the mid size tattoo of Elvis riding a centaur of Abraham Lincoln.

“That's... wow, really, I didn't think they let you get tattoos while drunk” Clause said bending down and looking at the inked picture, Elvis gritting his teeth and spurring the centaur on at full gallop.

“Well ethics and standards aren't my strong point” Dave said swaying back and forth a little.

“He bribed the artist” Mike chimed in quickly before going back to drinking. Dave gave a cheeky smile and started nodding. Clause and Jopol wondered what the hell for and took a step back.

“Well... there isn't a tattoo artist on board... so” Jopol said trying to think of ways to keep the ships guests entertained.

“We could drink more...” Claude suggested looking a little forlorn, thinking his suggestion might be a little boring.

“Perfect” Dave replied grabbing the bottle back from Mike. Finally something he was good at.

“Come on... before someone falls overboard” Jopol said walking off motioning everyone to follow him. Claus and Dave followed straight away, Mike turned back and took another glance out into the pitch black night sky. He could hear the slight lapping of the water on the side of the ship, as it moved through the water. He could stand there lost in his thoughts for a bit longer. Or he could stop bitching out, and go and get drunk, he thought to himself. In the end the alcohol won, it always did. He took a few steps back still looking at the water then turned and went to catch up with the others. While they drank and laughed, tried not to look like fools on the dance floor elsewhere, it rested slumbering, deeply, yet not so deep as to not be aware. Coiled neatly around the branch of its tree waiting to feel the sun sprinkling its light on the back of its skin.

Waiting patiently and knowingly that a time for it might soon be at hand.

Next week Dreams of Phil Collins

humor-blogs.com doesn't know Sponge Boy or lefty...

Adventures in the Public Domain: Tim Dawson

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 04:31:00 +0000

This week on Tim Dawson... ahhh?

Page Five?

Yeah... photoshop was playing up so, nothing really happened this week, problem solvered, but not in time for todays post...

humor-blogs.com never has technical difficulties...

Hey Buddy... you wanna see a dead body?

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 03:58:00 +0000

What, no post again I hear you ask, well gird your loins you hefty bags of disappointment. If you pop on over here, you'll find a post by me. And an assortment of other posts from someone that is actually funny...

What ho and all that!

humor-blogs.com has been to floor 33...

Saturday Serial

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Sat, 29 Aug 2009 05:33:00 +0000

Last week Sister Gloria

Part 28: You Don't Name Meat...
The soldiers waited around, lounging across any comfortable surface they could in the cave, waiting for the four to return. It had been almost a whole day since they had seen Brigazzo and Smythe. It weighed heavily on them all, they had spent the last few years of their lives with each other, closer then brothers almost. It was an unspeakable thought though, when they got back a simple hand shake would have to convey all the emotion at once. And low and behold there they where, standing in the opening of the cave puffing and tired sweating like bacon, in the early morning sun. Lansell standing in the mouth of the cave, his Thompson ready incase it wasn't who he expected Dorsey next to him looking up surprised a little by the intrusion.

“Happiest I've been to see a cave in my life” Brigazzo said wandering past Lansell and Dorsey, taking a seat next to Wilson and grabbing some rations. Smythe and the Major wandered in behind him taking a seat of some rocks. Dunn still stood outside looking back into the jungle. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every time though he'd turn and look behind him, the eyes would move with him. Constantly, someone behind him, eyes trained on the back of his head.

“You right Dunn” Wilson asked walking over to the rookie.

“Yeah... I think so” Dunn replied. He grabbed the food Wilson offered to him and slumped down onto the ground opening it and devouring the stuff as quickly as possible.

“Thanks... Ste... Wilson” He said between mouthfuls, correcting himself as well, loading the fork into his mouth as quickly as possible. He'd almost slipped. He knew all the guys first names but The Major had told him to only use the last names. Dunn thought it was weird but if that's what the Major wanted. He didn't realise the purpose and the Major just wanted to deny its purpose. He'd picked it up when he was a young kid from his squad leader. Somehow it was meant to keep a distance between you and the rest of your squad. Should someone not make it... they were just Michaels... not James Michaels, from Virginia. 'You don't name meat', The Major remembered hearing over and over again, he watched Dunn eating the can of food and tried to get rid of the thought anyway possible. Somehow he'd survived long enough to graduate from being a surname to being a rank. He couldn't decide if that meant he was just lucky, or that his luck was going to run out soon. Which ever it was he didn't really want to know.

“Come on then everyone get in close” The Major said coaxing everyone in close around the centre point of the cave that had seemed to become the lounge room of sorts.

“Shit has met fan, if you hadn't guessed already, at some stage, we'll probably meet Fritz” He went on, a statement that was greeted with the sighs and groans from the rest of the men.

“Yeah, yeah I know, but that's the intelligence, it's always wrong. We checked out the encampment as much as possible and it could be worse” The Major said standing up while the others sat around him.

“Not much” Brigazzo said not really under his breathe.

“There aren't any tanks.” Smythe said smiling lounging back on his rock

“Wait to be positive Smythe” The Major said sarcastically giving the thumbs up. He paused for a second scratching his head.

“Possible 100, 150 troops, a few Japanese. But there seems to be a high amount of SS troops. I couldn't get much else” The Major said sounding disappointed in himself.

“I saw some artillery crates, nothing big just mortar cannons and some heavy machine guns, not much to worry about” Smythe said not waiting for a pause he had his eyes closed laying back relaxing, as unflappable as ever.

“Brigazzo?” The Major questioned looking at the seated soldier “Wait was in the boats”

“Best I could tell, mining equipment, excavation gear of some sort. There were a few boxes still sealed up. I couldn't open them without breaking silence.” Brigazzo replied looking up at the Major and around the group. A few puzzled looks from a few of the soldiers reaffirmed Brigazzos thoughts that what he had found had been strange.

“Dunn?” The Major said looking at the kid sitting on the outer of the circle, his thoughts far away from where they should have been. He came back to reality with a thud turning and giving the Major a dopey look, complete confirmation that he was just still a kid.

“Did you see anything?” The Major asked slowly, feeling he should suddenly go easy on the kid.

“No... I heard some people talking” Dunn said his head shiftlessly wandering around never focusing in one direction.

“What was it Dunn, what did you hear?” The Major asked next stepping towards him.

“It was some of the Germans, they were talking in English... saying something about being careful for people listening... they didn't want to let the Japanese know what they were up to” Dunn said. His words perking up the ears of everyone on the cave. Things seemed to keep propelling themselves through different proportions of confusing.

“Oh fuck I have a headache” Brigazzo moaned on hearing the news.

“Is this good or bad Major?” Fawlkes asked from his seat. Dunn hadn't heard him talk much, or they hadn't talked much he couldn't remember which. The Major rubbed his eyes and paced around in a circle

“I don't know... I jus... fuck it, Dunn, Smythe, Briggs, get some sleep. You guys keep your eyes open” The Major replied shrugging his shoulders and throwing his arms up in the air.

Next week lefty's lament...

humor-blogs.com doesn't think this was meant to be funny...

Adventures in the Public Domain: Tim Dawson

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 04:22:00 +0000

This week on Tim Dawson close ups and puns... so more of the usual.

Page Four

The comics this spoof is based on is believed by the author of this blog to be public domain, if they are not then apologies and they will be removed post haste upon notification.

humor-blogs.com lives in a tent, I hear...

As Seen on TV: One in Four...

wigglenut@hotmail.com (Alex L) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 05:33:00 +0000

One in four people think they sweat more than usual. That's how the advert starts, its for Rexona something. I assume its some sort of antiperspirant deodorant or something, I'm not sure I'm usually off on an anger tangent right after that opening line. So it could be for anything really. Giant Monkey Prey Mantis... ha, no, ok I won't go back into that kids. But there you have it.

One in four people. That's not the part I have a problem with. Even if it was one in four people 'have' a sweat problem, I wouldn't be complaining. Fuck stick a dude in a white coat and give him a clipboard and I believe him if he says one in two gorillas have a gambling problem. But its the fact that they say 'think'. One in four 'think'. And after that its just a white blur, I regain consciousness sometime later and there's a dead fish some jammed in the ceiling fan, my family are hiding in the panic room and 'thinking is not knowing' is written in what appears to be poo and blood on the wall.

'One in four think'... So they don't know, they haven't been to a doctor to get this potentially dangerous health problem checked out. They just believe they are one of the special few who perspire more than the average cretin. But you have to at least admire Rexonas bravado, they just strolled out into the marketplace and created a whole new consumer. Did someone in a meeting just decide that the new target consumer was hypochondriacs. People that spend their entire day toweling their armpits and checking wikipeadia to check how bad there hydrostynitis is... (wow that sounds like a real disease doesn't it!).

Comely lass springs on screen, and starts to babble, 'One in four people think they sweat more than usual'. And then it snaps to other comely lass raising her arms for a check, forgetting the monsoonal wash that will obviously pour from her under arms, she clamps then down to her sides quicker than humming bird on speed. Wow people are really that anal are they, what is that how you spell anal, is it anul or anal... are people really that one that doesn't mean poo sex?

I think I might be Jesus sometimes is there a deodorant for that as well.

“Did you know one in nine people have delusions of grandeur or a god complex, those people need a special deodorant to fit their special view of themselves...”

humor-blogs.com has a blog complex... and yes that is a horrible pun...