An orangutan, helpfully described as “hulking”, escaped from his cage at the local zoo and headed directly for the nearest restaurant. Unable to get any service, he “gleefully” began tossing picnic tables and motorbikes about the place. Terrified diners were “forced to cower” while inside the restaurant. This baffles me…anyway, the unfortunate ape never received a menu, let alone a bite to eat. Instead, he was shot with a stun gun, scooped up by a small bulldozer, and returned to his regular meals at the zoo.
A crocodile recently chomped off the arm of a veterinarian at this same (Shaoshan) zoo. Clearly the animals are unhappy with their current diet. To be effective in overcoming these violent dietary demands, the management at the zoo needs to understand why they occur. Understanding the motivation for these violent expressions will lead to an effective strategy (such as the hiring of a new chef), reducing the number of chomped veterinarians and cowering diners.
What happens to people’s minds and appetites in those frigid states? Any theories? One of the customers has a theory. “After a few beers, you can’t really tell the difference,” Joubert said.
Pupster has linked a poll for the worst lyrics ever. I suppose that’s an acceptable list if one is thinking only of the lyrics. But what about the worst everything song? I read Dave Barry’s Book of Bad Songs (which was hilarious), but it concentrated on songs from the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s, and it was published too early. Nobody knew at the time that a song so horrible, so vile, so despicably bad that it could be classified as evil would some day be unleashed upon an unsuspecting world. Ladies and Gentlemen, click if you dare.
It is Ask HayZeus Friday and you, yes YOU (I’m looking at you, Retired Geezer) (and you, too, Pupster), have the priceless opportunity to ask a question which will actually be answered. So head on over to HayZeus, Inc., and ask your question(s) regarding philosophy, politics, sports, religion, weather,relationships, chick flicks, quantum physics, jeeps, the art of raising gold fish, sex, strange pizza recipes, movies, books, the bizarre equipment in his basement, or whatever interests you. He’s sees all, knows all, and can tell you whatever you wish to know. Seriously. Try it!
Jerry Seinfeld expressed a rather cynical point of view about weddings in his old stand-up act.
…The idea behind the tuxedo is the woman’s point of view that men are all the same, so we might as well dress them that way. That’s why a wedding is like the joining together of a beautiful, glowing bride and some guy. The tuxedo is a wedding safety device, created by women because they know that men are undependable. So in case the groom chickens out, everybody just takes one step over, and she marries the next guy.
Here’s a blog site which went up in late December, about four months ago, and has already recieved over a million hits. “Wow!” you are no doubt saying to yourself, “Self, that must be an exciting, cutting-edge site with intelligent commenters debating interesting issues…or porn.”
Well, Self, either way you are highly mistaken. Behold the latest shining star in the Internet firmament:
Yes, Superman gets all the glory. He gets the wine, women, song, cape. But who ensures that his grand exploits, his heroic deeds, his selfless acts of heroism will be preserved in the annals of newspaperdom? Why, Jimmy Olsen, that’s who. And now, thanks to a link provided by the Mayor of Mitchieville, you too can be Jimmy Olsen. All you need is a finger that can click faster than a speeding bullet, a viewfinder more powerful than a locomotive, and the willingness to play a rather lame interesting game.
Afterewards, you can take this quiz: How Hot are Your Kisses Quiz. Be honest now!
My kisses are only medium hot. That seems to mean that I’m friendly, but not trampy. How about you?
The carp were swimming about in the chilly waters of a fishing lake when the weather grew warmer. So they headed for the warmer water in the shallow part of the lake. (Cue scary music). They had no idea of the terror awaiting them. No knowledge of the greenish, brownish, extremely near-sighted or not-at-all-picky, wart covered, excessively horny toads that lurked in the plant life near the shallows. Spring had sprung, and the toads were feeling “amorous”. So they began aggressively courting the poor, innocent carp, refusing to acknowledge that “No” means “No”.
Mr. Heelis, the manager of the lake, described the suffering of the lake fish. He said: “… We have several thousand fish here and maybe a third of them had the toads attached to them. This is unnatural.” Yes. Yes, it is.
Scores of the stressed carp are now dead, victims of “gang-amorousing” by the toads. Apparently they have a plan of attack. One toad will jump onto a carp’s head, clamping tightly and pushing its eyes into its sockets. The other toads will then leap aboard and, in their disgusting, slimy frenzy, cover the fish’s gills and cause it to drown. Suffocated by toads! What a hideous way to go! This is the stuff of nightmares. Apparently the fishermen think so, as well, as they are not braving the shallow side. And who can blame them?
