Updated sporadically! Guaranteed!

Sunday, October 30, 2005

A Short Piece Of Shitty Fiction

The fog slowly parted like the red sea and a man appeared betwixt the separated water droplets. The man had a rough countenance which was accentuated by his small and well groomed goatee. Stopping by a streetlight, he removed a cigarette from the depths of his cavernous coat as his other hand came up with a lighter that appeared almost as if by magic. He lit the cigarette.

Pondering the evenings events, the goateed man continued his ambling whilst puffing thoughtfully upon his tobacco stick. He was angry. Very perturbed.

Earlier, his wife had left him. While he was in the bathroom evacuating his bowels (at least that was the story he told her. In truth, he was vigorously masturbating.) she escaped quietly like a silent fart in the night.

The man stopped suddenly. He pulled his coat tighter around himself. He removed the cigarette from his mouth and threw it to the ground with great alacrity. Stomping it with his boot, he continued on his way.

With great alarm, the man suddenly recalled why he had been in the bathroom earlier. Back when he lied about needing to drop some logs. When, in fact, he was happily roughing up the suspect. The man remembered his reason for doing so: his wife was very untalented in bed. The thought alleviated some of his pain.

"Fuck her, anyway" he mumbled to himself.

Suddenly, the silence of the evening was shattered as a large black automobile tore into view. Speeding along, it popped up onto the curb. Attempting to return the automotive beast to the road, the driver pulled hard to the left.

The car spun wildly and careened towards the man with the goatee.

He had just enough time to mutter "Oh shit!"...and then he was dead. Before dying, the man was suddenly overcome with the realization that all his time spent at the learning annex studying marine biology was all for naught. Life sure can be funny.

The driver continued along and eventually stopped at a gas station for some coffee. At the station, he was robbed at gun point.

"Fucking lowlifes" he grumbled as the thief walked away. Hearing this, the thief turned back around and shot the man dead.

The thief continued on his way.

Coincidentally, five years later, the thief married the goateed man's wife. He, too, thought she was incredibly bad in bed.

Monday, October 24, 2005

Fast Food

Much akin to our earlier articles on beer and booze, we thought we would take a moment to meander through the wilderness that is the fast food industry.

McDonald's - First, a note to people who go through the McDonald's drive-thru: the menu only changes about once every five years. You know what they offer. Stop fiddle-fucking around and order some food. I'm behind you getting more and more pissed off because it is only going to take me 12 seconds to order my food and I have to wait for you to go through the whole "um....hmmmm....what sounds good? hmmmmm" routine. In any case, McDonald's is pretty bland. The new McNuggets may be healthier and all-white meat...but the old mystery meat McNuggets tasted better.

Arby's - Want roast beef? This is the good stuff. Want a deli sandwich? You are in the wrong place. Yeah, they offer them...but who cares? You don't order pizza from a sandwich joint, and you don't order a sandwich from a pizza joint. When I go to Arby's I want roast beef. When I want something deli I go to Subway.

Subway - Ostensibly a healthier alternative. Although, I'm not sure how a pizza sub or a meatball sub is a better option that Arby's. The real problem here is the fact that they call their employees "sandwich artists". I just want a turkey sub with mayo and green pepper. That's it. Everytime I order, I get interrogated about why I don't want lettuce and tomatoes. It's as if I stole the Cyan Yellow and Forest Green from this "Sandwich Artist" and now she can't make her art correctly. It's just an inflated title...you are a sandwich maker. Deal with it.

Fazoli's - Italian fast food? Bad idea. The less said about that the better.

Burger King - Dear Burger King: Oh, Whopper. Oh, how I love thee. But the King is fucking creeping me out in those commercials where he just shows up and stares at someone for ten minutes. If that guy shows up at my house, I'm going to kick his giant king-head in and then go get a whopper. Additionally, I heard that Humpty-Hump once got busy in one of your bathrooms. That's kinda wrong.

Wendys - No matter what bullshit reason you come up with, there is just no logical reason for a square beef patty on a round bun. It's just stupid.

Chick-Fil-A - Hands down the best chicken sandwich you will eat. Stop screwing around with the chicken offerings at Mickey D's and BK....get your ass over to Chick-Fil-A.

Taco Bell - Because you are just too damn regular. You gotta shake up those bowels. Try the Pinto's N' Cheese coupled with a 7 Layer Burrito. That oughta do the trick.

Carl's Jr. - I'm way too hung up on the grammatical atrocity that is their name to even try eating there. Do I really want to eat Carl's Junior? I don't think so. I don't even want to eat his Senior. I don't want to eat anything that may have every been a part of Carl. That disturbs me. No offense, Carl.

KFC - I remember back when their name was still Kentucky Fried Chicken. Good stuff. Not healthy...but tasty as hell.

Long John Silvers - Named after a fictional pirate, the treasures within are abundant. Wow. I should write advertising copy. Seriously, the fish is good and those hush puppies with change your religion. Don't know what they are called hush puppies. They don't seem to be of the canine persuasion...too round. Whatever the hell they are made of, I dig 'em.

Saturday, October 22, 2005

Ohio: An Explanation

I live in Ohio. If you don't live here, I'm sure your head is filled with clap-trap about farming and outhouses.

Nope. That's Alabama.

While Ohio does have farms, the vast majority of our state has actual houses. And indoor plumbing. Which is nice.

We have an abundance of roadkill. To this day, I've never seen a live possum. I'm starting to believe that the government breeds them, kills them, and lays them by the side of the road just for ambiance.

On the topic of roads, try to enjoy our highways. Seriously, try it. You can't. At any given moment, at least 140 miles of them are under construction.

How long will they be under construction? Hard to tell. You see the construction signs...occasionally you might spy some tools and vehicles...but nary a worker in sight. If you do happen to spot a construction worker, you won't see him doing anything other than eating lunch. They enjoy eating. We all do.

Frankly, you have better odds of being sodomized by a unicorn than you do of seeing a construction worker actively constructing. Actually, the odds are the same. They are both mythical.

Almost two years ago, the construction of an Arby's was announced a mere mile from my house. Two weeks ago, they actually started pouring a foundation.

Yep. Life is slow around here. Which makes it all the more odd that so many people seem addicted to NASCAR. I like fast vehicles as much as the next guy, but I don't really see the skill in driving in a wide oval for two hours or however long it takes before a winner is chosen. I can make left turns for an hour, easy. Maybe even two hours. After three hours, I'm sure I would be getting the itch to make a right turn just to shake things up...but the big concrete wall to my right would probably disabuse me of that temptation.

If you sit on any street corner for fifteen minutes, you are guaranteed to see at least eighteen cars with "3" stickers. For those of you with actual branches on your family tree, some explanation may be needed. "3" was the number for Dale Earnhardt. He drove in wide ovals. Apparently, he was pretty good at it. One day, he turned right. Bad things ensued. Now many a pickup truck is emblazoned with his sticker in memory of the man with a rather large mustache and a devious ability to turn left.

We also have plenty of violence. No square dancing and spring festivals for us. Nope. We have all manner of hard narcotics and gang violence. To be honest, it's something we begun about ten years ago to make it more exciting for the tourists. When everyone from other states leave, we go right back to shucking corn and throwing horseshoes.

Unfortunately, the influence of other "hipper" states is beginning to creep in. Last weekend, I spent over an hour trying to find a place to get a turkey sandwich. That is all I wanted. You would be amazed how difficult it has become to get a basic turkey sandwich.

The first place made all their sandwiches with Italian dressing. Not just in the sandwich, which ostensibly you could request them to omit, but actually baked into the bread. Additionally, they didn't have any kinds of bread that would be recognizable to regular people. No white. No wheat. Just names that don't signify the contents at all. Summer Harvest. Italian Vegetable Medley. Shit like that. WTF?

The second place smelled of a vanilla candle when entering. I began choking slightly. Their bread selection was even more obtuse. The names were an advanced cipher that I couldn't break. Also, no turkey. You could get turkey in conjunction with some other articles, but not alone. They, too, cooked strange things into the bread thereby giving you an ingredient you never asked for.

I finally ended up at a grocery buying a plain turkey sandwich in the deli. It was slightly dry, but still delightful.

It is an odd combination here in Ohio. While you have the snobby tomato-bread-with-Italian-dressing sandwich people, you also have NASCAR loving, gun toting, proud rednecks. With rebel flags. Seriously.

For a state that was never part of the Confederacy...one that is only considered "south" if you are standing in Toronto...we have a veritable shitload of rednecks. They, too, are uncomfortable with the strange breads.

Much like other states, we have spring, summer, autumn, and winter. We have the same holidays as everyone else.

But we have more per capita Wall-Marts, drugstores, and bars than any other state.

Plus, more Dale Earhardt stickers.

If you ever decide to visit, bring sandwiches. Ours suck.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

More Big Damn Poetry

For your cultural edification, we offer a few more tasteful pieces of poesy.


I don't like coffee
But I do enjoy Vodka
It makes me happy


There once was a girl from Dayton
Who left all her suitors a-waitin'
She bored all her mates
getting ready for dates
So they all just begun masturbatin'

My Friend Tom

I met a new friend one day.
We went to the gym to play.
He gazed at my rear,
and smiled at my gear.
And that's when I knew Tom was gay.

A Question

Popcicles are neat,
so are candy and gum.
I haven't any,
Do you swallow cum?

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

A Book Report

A book report from our little correspondent, Timmy Smith.

Friday, October 7, 2005

More Toby

Remeber my little neighbor Toby?

He gave me some new drawings. Like the last batch, these are mildly disturbing.

I mean, I am proud of his creativity and the artwork isn't bad for a nine year-old (his birthday was last week)....but still.....

We do have a fair amount of squirrels....

Wednesday, October 5, 2005


In an earlier article, we profiled various brands of beer. We thought we would extend that and take a moment to talk about booze. Hooch. Happy Juice. Various other alcoholic euphemisms.

Whiskey - If you are going to drink whiskey, drink real whiskey. Jameson is the stuff you are looking for.

Whisky - Fake whiskey. Note the lack of the letter e. This stuff is actually....

Scotch - Why bother? If you can't handle real Irish Whiskey, you should probably go back to drinking wine coolers.

Vodka - Kind of like if water made you a whole lot funnier. And woman more attractive. Recommended!

Flavored Vodka - Um....yeah. It's the new millenium. Go ahead and admit that you're gay. We won't judge you.

Tequila - Two shots of this and you will probably be picking a fight. With a really big guy. Who will beat the shit out of you. But it's OK. Tequila makes you pain-proof.

Wine - Unless you are at a wedding, a restaurant where each meal costs over $75, or sitting in front of a fireplace trying to get into the pants of the hottie next to you....there is really no excuse for drinking wine.

J├Ągermeister - Dear Lord. We don't have time to count the many ways this atrocity has sullied the good name of booze. Strictly for shots. Only if you are under 23....and in a fraternity.

Rum - Kinda shitty. If you have to drink it, you probably want to drink it with Coke. But use the real stuff, not that spiced Captain Morgan shit. That stuff tastes like you are drinking alcoholic french toast.

Anything that will get you laid quicker - We support it. We look out for our FBDF (Friends of Big Damn Funny).

That is a brief tutorial of booze. We were glad to be of service.

Sunday, October 2, 2005

Norway: A Review

Norway. Where is it?

Somewhere up north, scientists tell us. Anything more specific is anyone's guess.

Many tales have come forth from explorers who claim to have landed on its golden shores. For instance, some claim its shores are golden. Others tell tales of nude body art and strange experimental theater. Still others have come forth with bizarre stories of cannibalism and the celebration of Kwanzaa.

We here at BDF decided to look into this possibly mythical land.

Being too lazy to do any actual research, the following is some shit we completely made up.

All Nordic people are giants. Midgets there start at 6' 3".

The men each have three penises; the women have two vaginas. Orgies only require two people up there.

People in Norwegia (as the natives call it) are taught to lasso and ride wild reindeer, which is the primary means of transportation in Norwegia.

Nordic people are responsible for the bulk (98%) of the ever widening hole in the Ozone layer.

Norwegia has the highest population of gun wielding serial killers. But as all Nordic people are, in fact, bullet proof, the casualty rate is quite low.

Norwegia has a great many fjords. Fjords are tiny rodent-like creatures known for being quite delicious when batter-dipped and deep fried.

Nordic people are known for being witty practical jokers. The most common "joke" is to run up to one another during a solemn occasion (such as mass, weddings, births, etc.) and shoot each other in the head or groin area. As mentioned above, Nordic people are bulletproof so fatalities are quite rare, but the comedy flows like wine.

The first, and only, completely urine powered automobile was created in Norwegia. It gets about 1/4 mile per gallon of urine.

The top grossing film in Norwegia's history is Back To The Future III. The second highest grossing film was Sideways.

The largest Paul Giamatti fan club in the world was founded in Norwegia.

Being so incredibly huge, finding clothing that fits is difficult for the average Norwegian. Therefore, fashion dictates either wearing a very large tarp, or frolicking in the nude. Luckily for travelers to those golden shores, Norwegians are quite attractive.

We could probably look all this stuff up, but being American we prefer to stay stubbornly ignorant of other countries and cultures.


Norway - Rating: B-
Norwegia - Rating: A+

Harvey Selleck, Independent Producer

Big Damn Funny: So, Mr. Selleck...

Harvey Selleck: Call me Harvey.

BDF: OK. Harvey. What is it like being an independent producer? Do you find it difficult to compete with Hollywood?

Selleck: There are times when Hollywood makes life hard, sure. They don't seem to like competition from outsiders. Even though they spend so much time ripping each other off, they will pounce on you with a thousand lawyers in a heartbeat when you aren't one of the big guns.

BDF: For example?

Selleck: Well, look at Antz and A Bugs Life....same movie. But when I attempted a female empowering off-broadway play called The Vagine Soliloquys I got hammered by The Vagina Monologues people. I tried to explain the subtle difference between a soliloquy and a monologue.

BDF: Um....there isn't really a difference.

Selleck: Sure there is. A soliloquy is when a person talks to himself revealing his thoughts without actually addressing a listener.

BDF: And?

Selleck: A monologue has a listener. There are other characters around.

BDF: Not always.

Selleck: Well, sure. Not always....that's what the Monologue people said, too.

BDF: OK. Moving on.

Selleck: Right. I also tried to put together a film called Pink Black Panther about a homosexual militant African-American. That didn't fly. Couldn't get the funding. I pitched a television show idea to all the networks called Kidnapped!, but they wouldn't bite.

BDF: What was the show about?

Selleck: It is a reality show where we choose two families at random and kidnap their children. The audience watches in real time as the two families compete to finish the guidelines set forth by the kidnapper to rescue their children. Of course, only one family can win. That's where the networks got really hung up on it.

BDF: What happens with the losing family?

Selleck: We keep the kid. Sell him on the black market or something. Hell, we gotta fund this show somehow.

BDF: I'm guessing the networks didn't like that idea.

Selleck: Hell no. Bunch of pussies. After that I decided to stick with films. I wrote a spec script for a sequel to Big called Small. It is kind of a reverse of the first film. Now the kid is all grown up and it sucks, so he decides he wants to be small again. Only something goes horribly awry and he is still an adult, only he is three inches tall. You know, comedy ensues.

BDF: What happened with that?

Selleck: Hanks dug where I was going with it. The studio shot it down. Said nobody wanted to see a really tiny Oscar winner. Maybe they were right. I don't know.

BDF: Have you ever successfully produced...well...anything?

Selleck: Sure! I had a nice run with an off-off-broadway musical version of Fight Club. Until I got sued. Turns out the guy who sold me the rights didn't really have the rights. I shoulda known better. I met him in a barbershop. Not a lot of Hollywood players hanging around barbershops selling DVD players that have "fallen off a truck", you know?

BDF: I can imagine.

Selleck: Well, I gotta get back to work. I'm trying to raise some funds for an animated film about a family of cannibals. It's gonna be killer. Hell, I should use that as the tagline. That's really good.

BDF: Actually, no it isn't.

Selleck: What the hell do you know? What have you produced?

BDF: Yeah....anyway....it was great talking with you. Good luck with your projects.

Saturday, October 1, 2005

The Naugabeast

If you have ever dined in a Denny's or other similar family style restaurant, I'm sure you are familiar with Naugahyde.

Naugahyde is the leather-like substance most restaurant furniture is crafted from.

What you may not realize is the secret source of this substance....the Great Naugabeast.

The Great Naugabeast once roamed the plains of the United States. His hide wasn't as soft and supple as other large animals, so the Naugabeast wasn't very often hunted. Native American tribes often used his visage in their iconography, having great respect for the lumbering inedible beast.

Another notable feature of the Naugabeast are the very large horns growing from its shaggy cranium.

Both male and female Naugabeasts sport these large protrusions.

As hunting the Naugabeast was rare in the past, no purpose was found for their horns.

Beginning in the 1970's, the Naugabeast began to be hunted in large numbers to support the furniture companies supplying the burgeoning restaurant business. At that point, it was discovered that a lucrative black market for the horns of the Naugabeast existed in Asia. The horns are believed to strengthen the libido and lessen the effects of acne. Some claim to be able to see into the future if the horn is smoked, but the process for powdering the horn is quite arduous and the smoking of Nauga-horn never really took off.

Today, the numbers of the Great Naugabeast have dwindled exponentially. The high turnover rate in starting and maintaining restaurants has put quite a strain on the furniture business with Naugahyde being the chief fabric used in such chairs, benches, and booths.

The industry has turned to other sources, notably "Pleather" which comes from the South African Pleatheraptor, a smooth featherless lizard-like bird. It is believed that the Pleatheraptor may be a modern descendant of the Pteranodon.

So the next time you perch yourself upon a restaurant seat, please take a moment to think about the plight of the Great Naugabeast. If, like us, you feel that the voracious hunting of Naugabeasts and Pleatheraptors in unconscionable, please make a donation to PETA (People For The Ethical Treatment of Animals) or PETARN (People For The Ethical Treatment And Raising Of Naugabeasts).

The future of the noble and dimwitted Great Naugabeast is in your hands. Please help.

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