If It’s Not Scottish It’s Crap

If It’s Not Scottish It’s Crap

(Warning: they’re Scottish, so they could be saying almost anything and I probably wouldn’t notice)

“Steamy windys in heelys? Nyke shrug mum. So hodensay cheese toast in here?”

I don’t think it’s humanly possible to produce better ads than these. The first sentence says it all:

“Steamy windys in heelys?” 

Now why didn’t I think of that? This kind of genius doesn’t come very often. I hope companies in America start incorporating indecipherable babbling into their advertisements. I would be a lot more likely to buy a new Chevy if the narrator simply blew spit bubbles into the microphone and screamed at the top of his lungs instead of wasting his breath talking about torque or horsepower per second, or whatever.

Kids These Days And Their Vidya Games And Their Rock And Roll Devil Music

Kids These Days And Their Vidya Games And Their Rock And Roll Devil Music

I’m very pleased to present the latest masterwork by the one and only Stamford Waffles. Lovingly crafted on a shoestring budget of three gummy bears and a single can of Pepsi, The Simpsons Split and Run is by far his finest work. Look at the detail in each shot. You won’t see anything like this on the big screen. Stanley Kubrick, eat your heart out.

I still have trouble fathoming the awesomeness of the soundtrack. Stayin In Black is so utterly hip it’s going to need a hip replacement to handle its own hipness. If it got any cooler it would cause another ice age. It’s so sweet you’ll get diabetes if you listen to it for too long.

They’re staying alive, man, what more could you ask for?

Crack Is Wack, But Karate Is Naughty

Crack Is Wack, But Karate Is Naughty

Personally, I never do anything for any payment other than crack. When I shovel the neighbor’s driveway they pay me in crack. When I walk old ladies across the street it’s in the hope that they’ll give me some hard crack candy. Someday I might get a real job, so I can use the proceeds to buy a house and a car that I can then sell for more crack. My methods may be unorthodox, but they’re extremely effective. I have never had to deal with a karate expert in my crack wheelings and dealings.

That’s All Well And Good And All…

That’s All Well And Good And All…


OK, so the boat’s on fire. The firey boat is full of fuel, promising further firey boat goodness. The skipper has abandoned ship, Gilligan is pan roasted by now, Ginger is back in her trailer on the set calling her agent demanding a real career. So far I get it.

Then Mister Fireboat shows up. He swings into action. He’s not afraid of a little gasoline-fueled explosion. He’s probably not afraid because he’s just a regular boater, so that means he’s drunk. He should be afraid, but he isn’t; it’s the hallmark of the True Borderline Sociopathic Boy.

OK, so he saves the flaming boat. He don’t need no steenkin’ hoses, or ladders, or firetrucks, or extinguishers, or anything your run of the mill fireman needs. I only have one question: How’s he going to get a cat out of a tree using a speedboat? Huh, smart guy?

[Many thanks to friend of the BSBFB Charles Schneider for sending that one along]