After the cat steals one’s name, swallows it and then uncerimoniously deposits it mid-carpet, does the victim of such theft thenceforth have to go around telling people that they have a new name, and it’s cat-vomit?

Yesh.

mikey

In the house of her mind where the light are flickering and nobody’s home? Hell yeah!

That’s right. Two hot Abyssinian babes in MY thread that you did not even bother to show up for.

And they want me BAD. Well, you can see it right there, just from what they typed.

There was even some Max Cat dude in there offering to lick my pasta. Insisting on it, really.

So, what do you say? You know what I say? I say, ‘Get over here, and bring me a guts sammich,’ that’s what I say.

Leave the house apes! They don’t love you like I do! I will kill my sister for you. Well, actually, I’d do it for free if the handmaiden didn’t stop me, but you know what I mean, I love you!

Leave them and fly to me! I can show you how to use the house apes’ plastic thingy that they keep in their pockets to get a ‘plane ticket.’ I don’t know that it is exactly, but I know it’s how the handmaiden goes places sometimes.

So, come on.

This is your last chance. I mean it this time. Really.

I just saw Dinesh and bin Laden sipping lattes at the Water Lily. We’re all good up here.

Are these morons blogging or collecting Pokemon cards?

You guys realize, that they will not stop, right?

That they’re just going to keep making stupid, refutable-in-45 seconds-of-Teh Google claims in their idiotic posts, which they will then link to other, stupid, refutable-in-45 seconds-of-Teh Google claims made by their companions in fuckwittery, who will then link back to them and to other, equally deluded lunatics until they achieve their goal?

Said ‘goal,’ as far as I can tell, appears to be the eradication of all forms of intelligent discourse on the internet.

Because if that’s not their goal, I have no fucking idea what these dolts think they’re doing.

Except for that one episode of Mythbusters where they filled a cement truck with dynamite and set it off from 5 miles away…. that essentially vaporized the truck. Although I guess a largish hole with a portion of an axle sitting in it still kind of showed some evidence.

It took a LOT of dynamite though.

Hell yeah! And then we’ll hear that Jamil Hussein made up the whole Iraq War!

Jamil Hussein=Kayser Sose.

I just saw Dinesh and bin Laden sipping lattes at the Water Lily. We’re all good up here.

Merdre!

I was thinking he’s the love-child of Wallace Shawn and Dana Carvey.

mikey

Someone who ought to know better taught this rube to dupe a photoshop layer, blur it and put it on overlay mode, and now I bet the guy has glowyblowy images of everything, from his pet dog to faux pornies of Pam Geller Oshry. Nice composition skills–that frontmost cowboy fits in that scene like Rachel Corrie in a Charles Johnson ‘Tuesday Ugliest Beach in LA’ photo. I’m trying to find the reason that the fucker is so big, but it must be that Floppy did it himself, and so we have the million-times-practiced, huge sig at the bottom. Ah, he’s so proud, so very proud, he even has it at Cafe Press. I can’t even look at the ham-handed filter-work on the floor and table, which seems to be a roto’d cellphone-cam grab of a 1985 vintage Unpainted Warehouse game table. And that glaringly unmatched sky gradient outside, its… Okay, enough, I’m overwhelmed by hackery.

Wait, the cards on the floor, like everything else sporting drop-shadows for no good reason…do I see Iraqi guys from the famous 52 enemies deck on there? Tariq Aziz, Saddam, Uday, Qusay and someone else. So…that means the guys shooting Floppy are…Iraqi insurgents dressed as the James Gang? Libruls? Shit, I’m lost at the crossroads of bad wingnut art avenue and halfwit wingnut metaphor road.