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Sunday, March 26, 2006

The Worst Cartoon Ever Made

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

My Experiment With Invisibility

As a dedicated Big Damn Staff member, I am willing to try almost anything to bring you the funny. For this article, I thought I would try a social experiment.

I decided to spend an evening being invisible.

Not some bullshit daytime talk show "see how the world treats fat people" kind of invisible. I mean, actually invisible. Totally lacking in visible presence.

How did I attain this? Well, I can't tell you. Ryan stumbled onto the formula once when he was drunk (the guy is wicked smart when he has a few drinks in him) but completely forgot the recipe once he attained sobriety. Hence, we only have one small jar of the stuff left. I don't know what the hell is in it, but I probably wouldn't tell you even if I did. Sucks to be you. Get your own drunk scientist friend.

The first thing I can tell you about my evening is this: movies lie. If you are invisible...only you are invisible. Less so your clothing. It gets really fucking cold wandering around naked. Men: you will never be so terrified about keeping your wandering penis out of harms way. Especially when you can't see it. Seriously. It's scary.

Being one who is quite partial to brother booze, I decided to take this experiment to the local bar.

I know. All you guys are thinking that you would go into the ladies room and check out the chicks. Well...I couldn't. My wife was with me throughout this experiment. How the hell else would I pull it off? People would freak out if they saw a car driving down the road with nobody behind the wheel. And I'm not about to do the pedestrian thing. Walking sucks.

One of my first observations was that it is damn near impossible to get a drink at the bar when nobody can see you. Now I know how unattractive losers feel. I will make a mental note to be more kind towards the genetically challenged wookies of the world.

I tried throwing shit at the bartenders...but that just seemed to confuse them more. They just got really hostile and angry...and I remained invisible and sober.

From here on, I sent my wife to procure my alcoholic beverages.

After downing a few glasses of vodka, I felt the distinct urge to urinate. I thought it would be funny as hell to just walk around peeing on various people because they wouldn't be able to tell where it was coming from. But my wife said "Hell no". Such is my life. She doesn't take the comedy as seriously as I do.

Ambling towards the restroom was fun. I could just bump into people or throw various kung-fu like punches towards kidney areas with impunity. I almost started a bar fight as the people spun around looking for someone to blame. Being invisible is fun!

Until I got to the restroom. Here is a very important note for future invisible persons: if you are invisible and standing in front of a urinal, people cannot see you. The result is not good.

After waiting for the restroom to empty out so I could clean myself off (even drunk people notice faucets turning on and water splashing around unguided by a visible force), I headed back to my seat to find my wife carrying on a conversation with an empty seat wherein she believed me to be sitting. My favorite part was how frustrated she kept getting believing me to be ignoring her by not answering her questions.

My laughing abated after about ten minutes. Her anger continued for another twenty minutes.

No invisible sex for me that night. No visible sex for another week. See what I do for you people?

Basically, being invisible is pretty overrated. Plus, it got me ignored, peed upon, and completely cut off from marital loving for a week.

I would have to highly recommend you stay away from replicating this experiment.

Monday, March 20, 2006

How To Give Bad News

Often times in life we are faced with a situation that requires giving someone bad news. Sometimes it is because we have done something bad and must own up to it...other times it is because the person has a right to know.

We here at BDF are always trying to help people out. In that vein, we have decided to put together this little primer on giving bad news.

What to do when you are at fault? This one is tricky. It really depends upon the situation and the degree to which you are at fault.

For instance, maybe you are driving down the road. You begin fiddling with the radio because you have no desire to hear that one Kanye West song again. You look up just in time to see a five year old kid dash into the road chasing his basketball. With no time to brake, you swing the wheel to the left. Unfortunately, the kid darts in the same direction to avoid you. Direct hit. The kid...is toast.

Obviously, you should tell his parents. The problem lies in the fact that you don't know where he lived. You can't really just gather up his body and go door to door asking if this is their dead kid. That would be tasteless. But again, you can't do nothing at all. You should probably leave a note.

In a case like this, brevity is key. Simply gather the kid together into a pile...away from the road. You don't want someone else hitting him and making a mess of everything. Once piled nicely at the curb, simply leave a note that says "my bad" with your phone number. Now, run like hell.

I'm sure you will be hearing from his grieving parents forthwith.

Sometimes we get all caught up in the moment and forget to take certain precautions. This can sometimes lead to pregnancy...especially if you have been having unprotected sex. How do you explain to her parents that she has a bun in the oven? Or more, that you decided to remove the aforementioned bun from said oven?

In a situation like this, you have the choice of being downbeat and tasteful, or ribald and witty. Personally, I would go with witty. It makes it easier to accept the news. Try something like "Hey. You know how grandparents always have sagacious advice and make the best food? Well, keep on being ignorant and not cooking 'cause we got an abortion!"

If everyone doesn't start cracking up immediately, they clearly don't have a sense of humor. At this point, I would highly recommend that you point behind them and shout "Hey, look! It's Jesus!" and then run away.

What to do when you aren't at fault but still need to deliver bad news? This is an almost equally tricky situation.

What if your best friend is dating a woman who has been screwing around on him? As a pal, you know that you should tell him so he can end it and try to save some pride. Try this. The next time you are having a drink together (and if you don't regularly drink together, I seriously doubt the seriousness of your friendship) wait until you are two drinks into the evening before saying something along these lines: "Hey. I fucked your girlfriend".

As his eyes widen and anger mixed with horror begins to show on his visage, simply laugh and say, "Just kidding. I never fucked your girlfriend." He will relax now. "But three other guys did,"

Now you have opened the doors in a surprising way and you are ready to have a dialogue. Lay out everything that you know for your friend. If it starts to turn sour, point behind him and shout "Hey, look! It's Jesus!" and then run away.

How to deliver bad news to a child? These situations aren't as tricky as you might imagine. Kids are silly. Their attention span is amazingly small which allows them to be easily distracted. Try something like this, "Hey! Who want's ice cream? Not your parents 'cause their dead. Let's go to Dairy Queen!"

Their cheers will warm your heart. Kids really love ice cream.

We hope this primer gives you some good ideas the next time you need to deliver bad news to someone.

It isn't really all that difficult. We have one more important piece of advice for you. Remember, always...

Hey, look! It's Jesus!

Friday, March 10, 2006

Big Damn Things That Don't Exist

There are many things that people can sit around a debate the veracity of: the loch ness monster, bigfoot, possibility of time travel, aliens, etc. All of those are things that nobody really knows, so it can make for a lively debate. Especially if you have been abusing substances.

The following are some things that empirically do not exist. They aren't open to debate.

Unless, of course, we decide to write a rebuttal. Then, I guess, the debate will be open.

Men who don't want to have sex with Salma Hayek: If you are a male and you don't want to biblically know Salma...you are probably gay. Did I say probably? I mean definitely. I honestly believe that if a heterosexual man were to appear on this planet and truly not desire to have sexual relations with the raw hotness that is Salma Hayek...at that exact moment the fabric of space and time would rip and the universe would fold in on itself.

Women who never lie: There is no such beast. Her weight? Total bullshit. How much she spent shopping? A fat load of shit. How she never thinks about other men in a sexual way? Not one true word in her statement. Not one. You have a far better shot of being sexually molested by a marauding gang of yetis and unicorns than you do of finding a woman who will never ever lie. It's just not going to happen.

A good Billy Zane movie: It sure as hell isn't Posse. Nor it is Titanic. The more bad cinema I see this guy do, the more I feel sorry for him. I don't dislike him...but I'm starting to think his agent does.

A rabid Star Trek fan who has had sex with an attractive woman...without paying for it: Seriously. Tell me I'm wrong here.

A bad blowjob: I used to believe there was no such thing as a bad blowjob. Some that weren't as great as others, sure. But bad? Like...afterwards I would look at her and say "For the love of all things Burt Reynolds. never ever do that to me again. Actually, don't do it to anyone. It's just mean." I didn't think such a thing could happen. Then I got some bad head. Wow. Clearly, I was wrong. There is such a thing as a bad blowjob. And it will fuck you up.

A good reason to make another Jurassic Park movie: Nope. There is none. The first one had its moments. The second...um...sucked. The third might not have been all that bad...if I could get my brain past the fact that there appears to keep being more fucking islands filled with dinosaurs. How many damn islands have they pulled this shit on? It's getting ridiculous.

A highly dedicated vegan who doesn't piss me off: Nope. Never met one. I don't think they exist.

Movies with a "message" that don't suck: If I wanted to learn, I would have gone to college. Stop preaching and start blowing some shit up. That's what I paid $8 for.

Wednesday, March 8, 2006

Crazy Fuckers Throughout History

There have always been strange people in the world. Sometimes these strange people decide to form groups.

Coalition For The Brotherhood Against Meteorologists

Believing weather prediction to be a form of witchcraft, this group was formed by Jean-Louis Jenkins to end the practice. Jenkins desired to wake up each day and experience the weather with no pre-existing knowledge of its conditions.

Ironically, Jenkins died during a blizzard for which he was wildly underdressed having worn bermuda shorts and a tank top that day. Had he watched the weather channel earlier, he might have known about the cold conditions. Additionally, it was mid-January and he lived in Wisconsin...so it was just an all around dumb ass move to be dressed like that anyway.

Dodecahedron Earth Society

Joe Nesbitt formed this group in the early 1980's after a marathon 78 hour game of Dungeons and Dragons.

Suddenly hitting upon the unique and irretrevably stupid belief that the Earth was, in fact, a convex polyhedron that resembled a really big 12 sided die (like is often used in role playing games).

He also began calling God "The Grand Dungeon Master".

Additionally, Joe died a virgin who never moved out of his mother's basement.

Society For The Preservation Of Aluminum Foil

This group was first founded in the early 20th century around the time of the Roswell Incident.

Henry Jenkins (no relation to Jean-Louis Jenkins) began this organization founded on the belief that used aluminum foil (in conjunction with pop rocks and cola) could be used as a condiut for commicating with the high priest Gifantor of Glaxor 5.

Somehow, membership reached almost 1000 at its high point in 1945.

The People's Front For The Liberation Of Peanut Butter From Chocolate

Vehemently opposed to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, George Willaby formed this group in the early 1970's.

Even at it's zenith, membership never exceeded 15.

To this day, Willaby continues printing his newsletter and harassing strangers in candy shops.

Society For The Reunion Of Gary Cherone And Van Halen

This one is pretty self-explanatory and uniquely idiotic.

Sunday, March 5, 2006

Movie Reviews In The Form Of Haiku

We are all familiar with the literary form Haiku. Seventeen syllables divided into three lines: 5,7,5. The following are some movie reviews utilizing this artform.

This movie sucked hard
I would rather be watching
Canonball Run II

My favorite scene
Was the one where the dude screamed
This film kicks mad ass

Electra sucked balls
It was two hours of my life
I'd like to have back

Layer Cake
Layer Cake was cool
New James Bond kicks the mad ass
Could've used Walken

I didn't see this
I'm not going to lie to you
Bring on Indy 4

The Matrix
This movie was cool
The sequels kind of sucked, though
Really sucked a lot

Back To The Future II & III
Why would you do this?
The first one kicked so much ass
Why fuck it all up?

The Pink Panther (remake)
Steve Fucking Martin?!
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Why would you do this?

Forrest Gump
sucked sucked sucked sucked sucked
sucked sucked sucked sucked sucked sucked sucked
sucked sucked sucked sucked sucked

Saturday, March 4, 2006

Poorly Worded Love Poetry

Ever since the written word was first created, man has sought to illustrate deep emotion through the art of poetry.

The following are some amazingly poorly constructed poems about love.

One potato, two potato
Three potato, four.
We should have some sex
'Cause you're a giant whore!

My honey is so lovely,
I really love that tail.
The way we met was odd, though
I was his bitch in jail.

When I look at you
My eyes are all agog.
I think about those lips
Smoking my fat hog.

I really love you, dear
For you, I am a nut
I only have one question
Can we do it in the butt?

If you were an insect
You would not be a gnat
The reason is quite simple
You really are quite fat.
Since you've been away and gone
I quietly watch time pass
Please hurry on home, dear
I miss that giant ass!

Percy: A Tragedy

Percival Quinlan was a lost and lonely lad who was prone to carrying on interior monologues and various other escapist maneuvers.

Possessing a passion for the written word, young Percy was quite the bibliophile. One unfortunate ramification of this was his rude and obtrusive need to correct the grammar and pronunciation of those around him.

As nobody likes to feel like a fool, this culminated in many bouts of pugilism, none of which Percy ever came close to winning.

Receiving many an assbeating made Percy quite the jumpy lad, prone to becoming quite startled at any sudden sound.

Much to his dismay, Percy would find himself screaming aloud when spooked. Having no faculty for swearing, he was known to blurt out odd phrases such as "Great Gatsby" and "Sweet Creeping Kafka".

This, of course, simply led to further physical confrontations of which Percy was constantly on the losing side.

Poor Percy's home life was far from perfect as well. Once he spent eight weeks attempting to perfect a rudimentary time machine. This, obviously, wasn't going to come to fruition...but Percy slaved on none-the-less.

As he came nearer to his goal of staring up the machine, he called downstairs for his parents to come see his masterwork. Believing that since they hadn't seen him for four weeks they would be chomping at the bit to observe what he had been working on, he waited. And waited.

After calling three more times and waiting for three hours, it dawned on him that his family wasn't coming. He turned on the machine without them.

Nothing happened.

Undaunted, Percy began construction in the back yard of his family's house. With the solid belief that a nice gazebo would impress his parents, he broke ground and slaved away.

After two hours, the neighbor's dog broke free of his leash and mauled Percy mercilessly. As nobody replied to his agonizing cries, Percy was forced to endure four hours of mindnumbing pain.

As the day turned to night, the neighbor's called the dog home for dinner. Percy collapsed into a bloody heap. Three days later his family found him and cleaned him up.

Feeling alienated from both peers and parents, Percy decided to embrace solitude and become a writer. Unfortunately, he showed no talent at all. He gave up.

Eventually, distraught with his plight in life, Percy hung himself.

Nobody noticed.

The Earth: A Review

We all have unique families, cultures, styles of dress, etc. But one thing we all have in common (to the best of my knowledge) is that we were born on Earth.

The Earth, being that large slowly orbiting sphere that we all call home, is often taken for granted and casually overlooked. The most thought anyone gives to it is when that person sees a bumper sticker pleading to "Save The Earth"...but as far as I am concerned, the Earth seems to be doing OK. It still orbits the sun. It has grass, mud, air, clouds, and whatnot. Things seem to be going swimmingly as far as planets go.

But to be honest, it isn't a perfect planet.

For one thing, it is predominately covered with humans. These creatures have a tendency to behave in an irrational and stupefying manner. For more evidence of this, watch Fox television. Eventually a reality show will appear and that should seal the deal.

There are a great deal of insects on Earth. Far more than we really need. I think we could probably get that number down to about four to five different insects if we do some creative accounting. Just the good insects. Not the creepy ones. Those we will reserve for rubber copies to scare children at Halloween time.

Also, the planet itself is not what one would call soft. If a person stumbles and falls, pain is almost certain to ensue. I think a soft spongy material would be far better to build a planet out of. Possibly Nerf. Of course, you would always run the risk that some bored fat kid would start picking away at it. Like he did during school recess which led to there only being one complete Nerf football and fourteen others in various states of Nerf distress. Then we would have Nerf craters all over the place. At least they would be soft, though.

I'm not sure how we would grow grass in Nerf Turf, but I believe it is something that could be solved with the proper motivation. If we can a hybrid SUV, we ought to be able to lick the Nerf Turf conundrum. It would also be nice if those same engineers could make sure that the grass only grows so tall. Pushing a lawnmower on Nerf Turf would probably be a pain in the ass. Plus, mowing the lawn in general just sucks.

The Earth has way too many places that are covered in ice. Ice is very cold. Additionally, it isn't very soft. As we have previously noted, softness is key.

Occasionally, the Earth has volcanoes...which erupt. The spew forth magma which can be anywhere from 650 to 1200 °C. Which is 1202 to 2192 °F. Which is also, in layman's terms, really fucking hot. Extremely hot liquid coming at you is always a shitty thing.

The Earth only has one moon. Honestly. A planet that is supposed to kick as much ass as the Earth only has one fucking satellite.

Mercury has no known moon...but then again, Mercury sucks.

Venus is also considered to be moonless....it, too, sucks.

Mars has 2 moons, Phobos and Deimos. Both of which are pretty cool names.

Jupiter has 63 known moons. Which is a shitload if you think about it.

Saturn has 47 known moons. There may be more. Who knows?

Uranus has 27 known moons. And no...we aren't going to make a pathetic uranus joke. It is beneath us.

Neptune has 13 known moons. While that is considered an unlucky number, it is still 12 more moons than Earth has. Seriously. We are really good at math.

The moons of Pluto include Charon (which is the big one) and two others which were discovered in 2005. Charon is not only almost as big as Pluto, but is named after the ferryman of the dead. Pluto, however, was named after the idiot dog in Mickey Mouse cartoons.

The Earth was supposedly formed 4.57 billion years ago. That is a really long time. Nothing that old could possibly be cool. Eight tracks aren't even that old and they suck monkey pole.

Basically, the Earth is wildly overrated. Sure...it is the only known planet with life on it. Sure...it is where we all reside. Sure...it was the birthplace of Coca-Cola, Road House, and Zombie McQueen. But if you think about it, Nerfworld would be way better.

Plus...I'll bet it would have way more moons.

Earth - Rating: C -

Nerfworld - Rating: A

Friday, March 3, 2006

Black Beauty: A Book Report

Yet another wonderful piece of writing from our little pal Timmy Smith.

15 Thoughts While Receiving A Really Bad Blow Job

1. Dear Lord! It's like she's trying to suck out my soul via my penis!

2. What the hell were the names of all the stooges? Moe. Larry. Curly. Shrimp. Wait...that can't be right....

3. If she rubs this thing any harder, we're gonna discover fire.

4. Wow. I never noticed before. She has a really pronounced overbite.

5. I wonder what my ex is up to these days. She was good at this.

6. Did I put the clothes in the dryer? If not...those things are gonna get moldy. Shit.

7. If she bobs up and down any harder she's gonna need to see a chiropractor. Immediately.

8. I hope she doesn't think my penis really is a Tootsie Pop.

9. Shit! I gotta do my taxes.

10. Lord of the Dance! She's amazingly bad at this.

11. I really don't think I can cum from this. I wonder if I can fake it.

12. This is absolutely the last time I play wingman for Paulie Shore.

13. After all this, the bitch better swallow.

14. If I aim just right, I can probably knock her the fuck out and just leave. Wait...did I tell her my name? Shit!

15. Did I just fart? Screw it.

Thursday, March 2, 2006

Big Damn History

As we have noted in an earlier article, history is a curious thing. What is accepted during one time period can change radically as more evidence is uncovered.

After much painstaking research and archeological digging (all of which was performed within my head), BDF is proud to bring to light some historical truths that have been unknown until this point.

On June 15th 1914, Sean McGuinness had about four too many drinks. While this ordinarily wouldn't be a big deal, on this particular occasion it drove him to make the mistake of turning to Tommy O'Oleary and calling his wife a "dirty French whore". Calling a man's wife a whore is often times an incredibly bad idea. Taking it a step further and calling her a French whore is bound to lead to fisticuffs...which it did.

Tommy hit Sean. Sean swung back. A bar fight ensued. As these things are apt to do, the fight spread. Exponentially.

People took sides. Some thought Tommy was overreacting. Other's backed Tommy and claimed that Sean should have never appended French to his wifely insult. Nobody was riding the fence. You were a Seanite or a Tommite.

A few weeks later, Archduke Franz Ferdinand was shot. The man responsible, Gavrilo Princip, happened to be a Tommite...and a wildly unbalanced one at that. This, of course, simply escalated things further.

We now call this "World War I".

Censorship has taken many forms throughout history. One such case had an important impact on United States law, but the reasons were actually an interesting misunderstanding.

In 1872, Patrick Schmidt inherited a printing press from an uncle whose existence he was completely unaware of. Not the type to look a gifthorse in the mouth, Patrick decided to create a periodical for distribution.

Patrick spent weeks trying to decide what his magazine should be about. He knew very little about fashion. He had no working knowledge of entertainment. His sense of humor was woefully lacking.

In the end, it was his predilection for falling into bleak periods of depression that gave him the subject he needed: he would write maudlin poetry.

While his poetry wasn't what anyone would term good, the true problem was in the title of his magazine. Basing much of his poetry upon his miserable childhood with a specific emphasis upon his childhood love of following the family's rooster around, Patrick chose the unfortunate title Cock Stalkings.

With a title like that, his readers were justifiably confused. Having desired to read hardcore pornography they were instead met with treacly poems about kids chasing farm animals...and not having sex with them.

The public's desire being noted, five men jumped into the fray with material to suit these feelings. Within weeks, the streets were littered with titles like Pig Fuckers, Horse Buggery, and the like.

One such periodical, Tits, Ass, and Pudding fell into the clutched of Michael Comstock. Unfortunately, his father, Anthony Comstock very much disapproved. Anthony spearheaded an anti-pornography campaign the likes of which had never been seen.

In March 1873, the Comstock Law was passed making it illegal to send anything of a obscene, lewd, or lascivious nature through the mail.

Ironically, Anthony Comstock very much enjoyed the later poetry of Patrick Schmidt published under the title Pomes About My Cock.

In further installments of this series, we will examine many more unknown truths like how three rubber chickens and a midget were responsible for The Canadian Parliament to create the North West Mounted Police (which later morphed into the Royal Canadian Mounted Police) and how the January Uprising (which broke out in Poland, Lithuania and Belarus) was accelerated by a very angry leprechaun and various other circus folk.

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