Category Archives: Humor

Best. Typhoon Name. Ever

Ladies and gentleman, I give you Typhoon Longwang. It could pound Asia pretty hard. It may penetrate deep into the continent. Let’s hope it doesn’t result in another premature evacuation.

OK, so it’s a little juvenile.

Actually, it would have been better if they’d hung that moniker on this storm.

[Update a couple minutes later]

A comment from “Psychobunny” at Free Republic:

If this thing makes landfall in Puntang, the Weather Channel’s going to have to go Pay Per View.

[Update again]

And the hits keep coming:

Typhoon LONGWANG is still a small typhoon, but the clouds got more rounded and spiralled. It is forecast to keep intensification for the moment, and the typhoon gets more powerful if it starts to be bigger.

“This War Sucks”

Apparently Abu Musab Al-Zarqawi is now co-blogging with Iowahawk. He’s disappointed in the weekend “morale booster” from Washington, DC:

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look of horror in that poor Jordanian kid’s eyes when the camera panned across that fugly forest of hairy vegan Heathers and uberbutch Andrea Dworkin manatees. And can you blame the poor trembling kid? Holy fargin’ Prophet, sometimes I swear the only thing that keeps me motivated is knowing that a restored Caliphate means these hippie bowsers are gonna have their mugs and their bankles safely shielded under a burqqa.

By then the damage was done. I must have spent fifteen minutes trying to calm the boys down, promising them that Paradise is not gonna be a menage-a-72 with a bunch of Unitarian NPR grannies. Luckily, the camera panned to some guy in who was wearing a dynamite belt, which kinda cheered them up momentarily. At that point I didn’t have the heart to tell them it was probably fake.

He also thinks that the “peace protestors” are chickenhawks:

You really want to end the infidel occupation? Put down the ANSWER picket sign and book a group tour to Damascus. Flights leave daily, and Delta is Ready When You Are, Moby. We may be running short of martyrs, but we’ll make sure to have an eastbound bus waiting for you at the airport.

Read the whole thing, though it has some non-family-friendly words in it. But then, consider the source…

“This War Sucks”

Apparently Abu Musab Al-Zarqawi is now co-blogging with Iowahawk. He’s disappointed in the weekend “morale booster” from Washington, DC:

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look of horror in that poor Jordanian kid’s eyes when the camera panned across that fugly forest of hairy vegan Heathers and uberbutch Andrea Dworkin manatees. And can you blame the poor trembling kid? Holy fargin’ Prophet, sometimes I swear the only thing that keeps me motivated is knowing that a restored Caliphate means these hippie bowsers are gonna have their mugs and their bankles safely shielded under a burqqa.

By then the damage was done. I must have spent fifteen minutes trying to calm the boys down, promising them that Paradise is not gonna be a menage-a-72 with a bunch of Unitarian NPR grannies. Luckily, the camera panned to some guy in who was wearing a dynamite belt, which kinda cheered them up momentarily. At that point I didn’t have the heart to tell them it was probably fake.

He also thinks that the “peace protestors” are chickenhawks:

You really want to end the infidel occupation? Put down the ANSWER picket sign and book a group tour to Damascus. Flights leave daily, and Delta is Ready When You Are, Moby. We may be running short of martyrs, but we’ll make sure to have an eastbound bus waiting for you at the airport.

Read the whole thing, though it has some non-family-friendly words in it. But then, consider the source…

“This War Sucks”

Apparently Abu Musab Al-Zarqawi is now co-blogging with Iowahawk. He’s disappointed in the weekend “morale booster” from Washington, DC:

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look of horror in that poor Jordanian kid’s eyes when the camera panned across that fugly forest of hairy vegan Heathers and uberbutch Andrea Dworkin manatees. And can you blame the poor trembling kid? Holy fargin’ Prophet, sometimes I swear the only thing that keeps me motivated is knowing that a restored Caliphate means these hippie bowsers are gonna have their mugs and their bankles safely shielded under a burqqa.

By then the damage was done. I must have spent fifteen minutes trying to calm the boys down, promising them that Paradise is not gonna be a menage-a-72 with a bunch of Unitarian NPR grannies. Luckily, the camera panned to some guy in who was wearing a dynamite belt, which kinda cheered them up momentarily. At that point I didn’t have the heart to tell them it was probably fake.

He also thinks that the “peace protestors” are chickenhawks:

You really want to end the infidel occupation? Put down the ANSWER picket sign and book a group tour to Damascus. Flights leave daily, and Delta is Ready When You Are, Moby. We may be running short of martyrs, but we’ll make sure to have an eastbound bus waiting for you at the airport.

Read the whole thing, though it has some non-family-friendly words in it. But then, consider the source…

Arrrrrr…

It’s that time of year again.

You know what I mean.

Avast, me hearties–it’s the day to talk like a pirate.

[Update a couple minutes later]

Which reminds me of how much that recent commercial–you know, the one with the pirate?–irritates me. He has a parrot on his shoulder, and to make sure we know he’s a pirate, he says “Arrrggghhh…”

Arrrgggghhh.

Pirates don’t say “Arrrggghhh,” unless they just sat on a belaying pin, or saw a stupid television commercial. They say “Arrrrrr…”

Stupid television commercial writers.