TOTALLY guilty as charged!

Yes, this is how I buy my shoes. I bought another pair today, in fact.  They’re very comfy.

Money quote:  “While only 38 percent of men own more than seven pairs of shoes, the average woman owns somewhere between “a s***-ton of shoes” and “a number of shoes so f***ing vast it had to wait for scientific notation to be invented to be expressed on paper.”

(Asterisks are mine.  I can only aspire to such heights of comedic swearing as the Cracked folks achieve on a daily basis.)

If Jon Stewart says so, does that make it official?

I don’t watch the Daily Show much, but this clip made me laugh.

I completely agree — anyone who fell for this self-described whitest-of-white-guys pimp character needs to get a little more sleep at night.

(h/t everyone and their mother.  So I’m late to the party, so what?)

Your daily funny

“This is like lighter fluid,” Sandy explained as he went back for another sip. Mad Dog’s not really hard per se, but it is almost cloyingly sweet, and it punches you right in the face. The grainy texture of the hooch is jarring with the completely ass-backward flavor pairing of kiwis and lemons. After debating over what could possibly be a worse flavor combination, we agree on loganberries and dog Shakespeare.

These brave taste-testers went looking for the best cheap beer, malt liquor and wine.  Put down your drink before you click over.  And for god’s sake, I hope you’re not drinking what they’re drinking.

IT’S COMIN’ RIGHT FOR US!!!

Since everyone else is doing it . . .

Chickens and squirrels get along just fine!

Another really bad joke

For the math geeks out there . . .

Once upon a time there were these two charming puff adders who lived in the woods.  Being faithful and romantic puff adders, they yearned for little baby puff adders to raise and love and cherish. 

Their first winter they mated under the back porch of a house.  But come spring?  No little baby puff adders.

The next year, they mated hopefully in the depths of a dry cave, secret and secure.  But come spring?  No little baby puff adders.

The year after that, they tried a den among the rocks by a riverbank.  But come spring?  No little baby puff adders.

Finally, as a last hope, they tried mating underneath a great fallen tree, a former giant of the forest. 

And come spring?

They found themselves blessed with a whole litter of little baby puff adders!  Joy!!

 

And the moral of the story is . . .

 

With the help of logs, even adders can multiply.

 Thanks Dad!

Lost in translation

Mike’s cousin M is four years old and just cute as a button.  That being said, she needs a little work on her delivery . . .

M: “Knock knock!”

LISSA: “Who’s there?”

M: “Why does . . . why does a gopher . . . wear two shirts?”

LISSA: (puzzled) “Um, what’d you say, sweetie?”

M: “Why does a gopher wear two shirts?”

LISSA: “Gee M, I don’t know, why?”

M: “In case . . . he gets a rip, right here!” (indicating her breastbone)

LISSA: (utterly bewildered) “Oh . . . um, right there?”

M: (gleefully) “Yes!!!”

LISSA:  “Um, oh!  Hahahaha!!!” 

After a bit of clarification from the aunts and uncles, I give you a perhaps more-comprehensible version:

Q. Why does a  golfer wear two shirts?

A: In case he gets a hole in one.

You might like M’s version better

Happy Friday!

Today’s snorfle

Today, my brother and I found a little bird that couldn’t fly. While trying to convince my mom that it couldn’t fly so we could keep it, I lightly tossed it in the air and it landed a few feet in front of me. Then my cat grabbed it and ate it. FML

Cat owners everywhere are shaking their heads and going Shoulda seen that one coming, buddy.

A LOLcatz Love Story

Of course I’m posting this.  OF.  COURSE.

Swiped from Educated & Poor!

Just call me “Fail Groins Looks

That’s right.  If your groin is looking at me I am a total failure, because somehow I’ve ended up with you AND YOU’RE NAKED. 

Perhaps I should go by “Insofar Goo Kills”?  Insofar as goo kills, please to take my survey, kthxbye.  (YES I KNOW that doesn’t make a lot of sense.  And your point is?)

Oo Oo — “Frank Igloo Silos.”  My igloo silos ain’t got TIME for manners, y’all.  We tell it STRAIGHT UP LIKE IT’S MADE UP.  (I think I just made that up.)

Got it — “Gorillas of Oinks.”  BACON, b*tches.  Bacon, or I shall steal thy blonds and climb thy skyscrapers!  And then spend way, way WAY too much time ice skating and whacking airplanes and making sad faces at the camera before I finally FALL and DIE.

Fun on a Friday

(P.S.  No, Beauty did NOT kill the beast.  Gravity and a hard-freakin’-surface did that.)

(h/t to Stoaty)

UPDATE: Roberta X linked.  Thanks!

Yes, these were actually printed

Oh my!!

This and lots more from Criggo.  Got the tip from Robb Allen; thanks for the laugh, Robb!