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Category: animation

I, For One, Welcome Our New Robot Santa Overlords

I, For One, Welcome Our New Robot Santa Overlords

I noticed a disturbing lack of Christmas cheer over here on the old BSBFB, so I thought I’d spice things up with a nice interstellar Christmas carol. It’s no White Christmas, but it’ll have to do for now. Bing Crosby hasn’t been returning my calls for about 40 years, so I had to move on and find something to take his place.

While Chiron Beta Prime sounds about as cheerful as a syphilitic orphan, the whole Christmasy-type message is still there — I think. I don’t know, he mentioned Christmas during the beginning, and then I started watching something else, so I really couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to. It’s not my fault I have the attention span of a goldfish with ADHD. I blame it on years of high-speed Intertunnel access, and a lack of reading or writing anything that’s longer than 150 words.

Err — I mean, merry almost Christmas.

Sasquatch Is Love, Sasquatch Is Life

Sasquatch Is Love, Sasquatch Is Life

I like Sasquatch, he brings up some very good points. He expresses himself clearly and concisely, and he cares about the people around him. If we were all a bit more like Sasquatch the world would be a better place. People would leave their doors unlocked at night. Policemen would wander the town with nothing to do. Elderly women wouldn’t be afraid to walk home from intense cribbage games late at night. Roving gangs of street thugs would give out gifts instead of vicious beatings. We’d have no need for lawyers and politicians, so they would sink back into the primordial ooze that birthed them.

If we could all be like Sasquatch, what a beautiful world it would be.

Why Can’t He Just Let Hulk Smash? All Hulk Wanted To Do Was Smash.

Why Can’t He Just Let Hulk Smash? All Hulk Wanted To Do Was Smash.

Superman is such a cheater.

Sorry, let me rephrase that. Superman is a big fat sissy cheater, a candy-assed momma’s boy, and he’s as boring as shop class is for girls.

Before you grab your Intertunnel pitchforks, let me explain. Superman flies. Whoopty. Amelia Earhart flew around, too. We all know how that turned out.  He’s buzzing around all day like a hummingbird or something, wearing his underwear on the outside, which is an appropriate look if you’re Madonna, I guess, but I like my superheroes a bit more on the masculine side. Don’t get me wrong, Madonna goes to the gym and can kick Aquaman’s ass, but Superman has “super” right in his name. He’s  got to be held to a higher standard, don’t you think?

He’s just a very lazily designed superhero. Superman can’t be destroyed by anything, and he has a list of superpowers that goes on for about ten years, and all he can do is help old ladies cross the road, and he can’t even get Lois Lane in the rack. Lame-O. I’ll bet Jimmy Olsen pulls more broads than Superman.

I like the Hulk. He seems like the kind of dude that could snake out your drain when it’s backed up. He’d take one end of your couch when you were moving. He’d pull the end off, but it’s the thought that counts. Hulk would have a barbecue and invite you over, and you’d stand around eating seared flesh, drinking beer, talking about chicks and breaking lawn chairs.

Superman would have Martha Stewart place settings and  put arugula on tofu burgers. Case closed. HULK SMASH!

Do You Want Bananas With That?

Do You Want Bananas With That?

The new McDonald’s healthy choices menu is really getting out of hand. I don’t want real food, I go there to gorge myself on imitation hamburgers, freedom fries, and malk shakes. Real food is displayed on the dining table for a week then thrown out. That’s why I only want to eat phony food. I can buy ten burgers for ten dollars, and they’re still cheaper than laxatives. Taste better too.

Also, their staff leave a lot to be desired. They say the chimps add extra flavor, but I get all the flavor I want from dropping my burgers on the floor. I just don’t want any Ebola to go along with my mad cow disease. The flavors clash.