Archive for the ‘Comedy’ Category

Funny as Hell youtube comments

Wednesday, 18 November 2009

I’ve been sitting on these for some time, letting the collection grow like magical crystals made of excrement. They’re funnier without context; I’ve mostly forgotten where I found them. Horrible spelling has been left intact.

I used to steam with envy at the two doofii who created youtube and got half-a-billion each from google. Now I think they were underpaid. As this blog makes some people feel better about their own lives, so the subnormals on youtube make my day every day. We begin…


I enjoy things that are not this.

take your filty black hands off me Nigger I love that line and im black

YOU SUCK GREAT BIG GREASY DONKEY NUTS

Hey..we all need a hobby…..and mine is to come in here and drag your sorry ass throught the pig shit.

You love it, and you know it.

You suck at grammar. You suck in real life too. Also, you’re not funny.

Kids talking about bloodshed. This is twisted, but for some reason hilarious…it’s like watching a bear maul someone. It’s horrible, yet somehow hilarious.

LOL ANGRY PEOPLE AND DEAD BABIES ? Im going to jerk off now =D

for the record it would have been funny if she had been skiny, but seeing those fat cankles go up in the air was just gravy.

It’s supposed to be a dream. A really freaky dream. Like she ate a couple of sausage pizzas by herself freaky.

people like this just have mental issues. it’s not natural to broadcast inner feelings to the known world.?

You’d be hot, but your nose is like..wow
Fix that

I’m surprised you can say anything at all, considering America’s cock is in your mouth.

—-

go rape a llama and take your ego with you

shut up, youre a pussy, you hide behind the safety of the internet to insult… well guess what its fucking cowardous. So shut your little mouth, grow some balls and get rid of your fucking vagina. woman.

That’s it…just go back into your balloon fortress…

When you are truly ready to communicate with somebody on an intellectual level, give me a call. Until then, enjoy living out your grandmothers basement spankin the ham to anime.

P.S. your mother sould’ve swallowed you.

it wasen’t ment to be coherent, it was just a bunch of statement thrown into a pile of retards, fuck yous and cunts

Yes!!! Oh my god could you imagine pig hunting with this?!?!?!

i wana stick my cock in the exhaust YA DIG

I just broke my keyboard in rage


some people should not have cameras if they don’t know how to contribute anything worthwhile. This is such an example.

Don’t bother replying, the internet exists for the sole purpose of conveying what I think.

Life Explained in 6 words minus the ending

Wednesday, 20 May 2009

“Satan is King!”

“Sometimes He is.”

THE END

Clone one “ha” and get a few laughs

Saturday, 7 February 2009

According to news sources, a cloning expert recently died.

Not to worry, he’ll show up for work again on Monday.



More stand-up comedy?

Thursday, 22 January 2009

I did stand-up again last night.

It’s only been 1 year, 4 months, 17 days since the last time I went up.

I rehearsed the most for this one and even got a few laffs.

I realized something last night about stand-up comedy:  I genuinely hate it, yet it’s the only thing I have any talent for doing.

Please take what I have to say next lightly:

I hate crowds, I hate bars and bartenders.  I hate booze, it all burns and tastes like rubbing alcohol and is overpriced.  I hate barmaids and their big or small tits.  I hate tipping.  I hate single women, married women and those in between.  I hate single mothers.  I hate other comics. I hate weakness.  I hate memorizing lines. I hate driving to the club.  I hate not knowing what to wear.  I hate drymouth.  I hate the crowd for being dumb, lapping up the same old shit.  I hate black comics for getting a free pass for being black and loud, not funny.  I hate female comics getting laughs cause some guys might think they have a shot.  I hate couples.  I hate the microphone.  I hate the brick wall.  I hate the spotlights.  I hate the dumbass names of comedy clubs.  I hate the cheesy music.  I hate saxophones.  I hate the MC.  I hate the headliner.  I hate 99% of jokes.  I hate relationships and “just broke up with my girlfriend”.  I hate married humor, fat humor, black humor, drug humor, trendy humor, liberal humor, gay humor.  I hate your sex life.  I hate the PA system.  I hate the front row.  And the back row.  And the middle. I  hate the food runners and club food.   I hate hecklers.  I hate heavy silence.  I hate cheap laughs.  I hate going home alone but more than that I hate leaving home.

I hate comedy and I hate God for only giving me half-a-gift for it.

I hate that this rant is over but it’s time to take a shit.

That’s my time, good night.

Foo, you better RECOGNIZE! Speech recognition software

Thursday, 18 December 2008

Dear blog,

While trying to install my old speech recognition program I discovered that Windows Vista has a built-in speech-to-text program.  According to the people that make Dragon NaturallySpeaking, the number one speech recognition software out there, the speech recognition program built into Vista is about five years behind technologically.

I’m a little disappointed with the arrival of 64-bit architecture computers, they’re supposed to already be able to understand speech quite sufficiently. While I’m speaking now my eyes are closed. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to speak to the machine instead of typing.

I figure I’ll just use this for Jack Kerouac-speaking nonstop stream-of-consciousness nonsense and worry about the punctuation later…just throw up a wall of shit like Jack Kerouac and say that everything I do now is stream-of-consciousness.

This technology is unfamiliar to me. Other than the punctuation, I’ve decided not to edit these words for clarity so that you might see the difference between speaking to the machine and keyboard work.

There’s always going to be some obstacle to writing. Understand that when the technology gets so badass that you’ll be able to hold a casual conversation with a computer, you’ll end up shooting the shit with a screen all night instead of writing, or telling it to write.

I’m a big fan of the Terminator franchise and the more I absorb that magical world of killer machines I realize that the machines are taking the wrong approach. The best way to exterminate humans would not be to declare all-out war against them but to fatten them up by doing every possible chore for them. Why, come to think of it, that’s kind of what we have going on now, isn’t it?

I imagine all the bizarre stories I’m going to make up to tell my friends’ grandkids about how everything was so primitive back in the early two-thousands.  Nowadays you kids can be hyped up on 10 different drugs and speak as fast as you want and the machine will still get it all. Why back in my day we had to smoke marijuana to speak slowly enough that the computer knew what we were saying! Then you’d look up and see 30 pages of, ‘Manny owes me 10 bucks.’

“I’ll tell you one thing, boys, we’re never going to see even in your lifetimes, and that’s a computer capable of understanding what the hell women mean instead of what they say!”

So far I’m really enjoying this, the technology just gets better and better. Yes, I find that for me it’s better for me to close my eyes when concentrating on what to say next, because the technology is new and I’m a little too self-conscious, as if you couldn’t tell from this messy lot of words that have to be edited.

I’m going to stop very soon.

If you go to Amazon, you’ll find that all of the reviews about the speech recognition products end the exact same way: “How do you know this program works? I dictated this entire review!”

How gay.

Dear Stephanie Courtney (the exotic girl from the Progressive insurance commercials)

Wednesday, 8 October 2008

(I tried making this post “Private” because I felt like it. It didn’t work, people could still read it, [turdpress FTW!] so here it is, no different. Please worship Satan).

Dear Stephanie, (MAY I call you Stephanie)?

As your character “FLO” from the Progressive commercials gains notoriety, I’d like to say that I think you’re the spun sugar in cotton candy and remind you that all of your other male admirers are gay.

Only I see/saw through the FLO character’s heavy makeup, lipstick and stylish sex-hair to the ebullient soul that is You hiding within the role, swaying like a flower floating in ginger ale.

I just want you to know that if we ever meet really soon, and things went so great that we’re in my room playing strip chess, I’d never demand you dress as the FLO character as part of our bedroom role-playing, because that’s a little too forward right after getting your autograph. These things take time, like waiting for Mother to go out of town so we can have the house to ourselves, you and me, forever!

That said, I eagerly await the next Progressive commercial starring you as FLO, joyously hawking insurance, which everybody needs just like they need…love.

Love,

Meat

P.S. You’re so cute you shit kittens. Please find them a good home!

More product placement (reviews of food-like items)

Monday, 1 September 2008


Rich in flavor, these “Onion Blossom” Pringles did indeed taste like the deep-fried onion appetizers found at most brass-n-fern restaurants. WINNAH!

When I first saw this box of strawberry Whoppers I imagined exactly how they would taste (delicious). They proved dangerously addictive. Any candy that comes in a pourable carton (not shown) can’t be good for you. WINNAH!

I didn’t originally intend to put Wendy Whoppers in here, but what the hell, I’m not being paid either way for these reviews so I might as well create more hits with her tits. As a bonus, I’ll spare you any jokes about wanting to spray her whoppers with malted milk from my balls. DOUBLE WIN!

These Chocolate Skittles really do taste like what they’re supposed to taste, yet I discommend them for myriad reasons:

* The soft-crunchy/firm-chewy texture doesn’t work for chocolate.

* A handful of different-flavored regular Skittles eaten at once blend together, creating a synergistic singular fruit flavor never intended by Ma Nature. But sorting vanilla/brownie batter/chocolate caramel/chocolate pudding/s’mores is too much to ask of any taste bud.

* The Skittles brand and rainbow don’t go with chocolate, just like there should never be fruit-flavored m&m’s. The makers were too lazy to make up a new product name? How ’bout…

(No, I didn’t make this awesome p-shop. I think you can even buy “Shittles” as a t-shirt).

I bought Chocolate Skittles 2-for-1 at a dollar store, so I guess they’re already on their way out. FAIL.

I like Peanut m&m’s enough to ignore their numbfuck characters and dumber commercials but this cheating box is a sodomite’s dream.

Normally m&m’s come packed to the hilt so they RATTLE in the box. Not these bastards in their silent F-U-in-the-A mini-bag. 3.4 ounces is so little candy an anorexic could eat them all and not bother puking. That yellow son-of-a-bitch on the box giving the thumbs up should be wearing a strap-on.

We get enough shit from all sides these days we shouldn’t have to watch our backs when we buy candy. FAIL.

Hope you enjoyed these reviews. These words I write are a bookmark of sorts, marking the place where I’m supposed to have a success-filled life.


Click for more reviewed products.

BIGFOOT, please

Saturday, 16 August 2008

oh, the voice of reason is trying his best to ruin my dream of being alive when they discover that bigfoot is real. bastard. Dirty Howie

.

Got this email from Howington after I pointed out the suit in the freezer recently found was probably a hoax to sell some new movie (or as it turns out, $500 “Bigfoot” tours from the hoax-holes who “found” the creature).

If you think about it, why do they have to test the DNA of this thing? You could just cut off an arm and skin it…no special effects people on earth could fake all the necessary bones, blood vessels, muscles, tendons, etc., as well as DNA.

Anyway, of all the legends and unsolved mysteries, BIGFOOT is the most worthless.

Does BIGFOOT have a spaceship and alien technology that could solve the energy crisis?

Does BIGFOOT have a time machine or live underwater in a cool place like Atlantis?

Does BIGFOOT have the secrets of quantum physics or keys to unlock hidden worlds and dimensions?

NO.

Know what BIGFOOT has? BIG FUCKING FEET. Oh, and he’s COVERED in HAIR at a time every queery-bare-chested, pretty-boy dickweed in media has NO body hair (update Dec 2008: add Obama to the list of dauphines).

BIGFOOT is a REAL man’s legend lost in the 70’s with Burt Reynolds while the mascot for the 21st century is a giant, gay, vegan, non-smoking pink dolphin.

What if we did catch a live BIGFOOT? He can’t speak, draw, write or play basketball. He probably can’t even wipe his ass…the government will just put him on the Endangered Feces list and lo, another USELESS WELFARE ANIMAL Joe Sixpack has to pay for.

BIGFOOT should stay gone unless he’s got a working fusion reactor in his cave.


Marmaduke fails at pussy

Tuesday, 5 August 2008

Check out this Marmaduke from Sunday, 03 AUG 08:

Observe the ‘cat’, one of the worst drawings I’ve ever seen. Is anyone even trying anymore? It really steams my clams that someone got paid to draw a cat with hound dog JOWLS.

Can YOU do better?–chide the critics. Hells yes. I drew my cat head with the MS “Paint” program in about 4.5 minutes. Unlike the Marmashit feline (more like FAUX-line) mine looks like a cat, falling well within the parameters of the Artistic Zone.

When will these fools learn that any job worth doing is worth doing half-assed?

Quarter-assed won’t cut it.


Spoiled Midget Paradox

Sunday, 29 June 2008