Little Ads - Exile in guyville. (Kinda NSFW).

More classy crap for the discerning jagoff today, as sent in by field scavenger Steve Miller. Thanks, Steve! That's two days this week I barely have to take my feet off the desk.

It may be hard for your kids to understand, but at one time, we had to go outside the house to get porn. This ad can help them understand how lucky they are.

Illustrations are serving suggestion only. Facial expression not a guarantee. You may or may not look like a serial killer after ordering Stag Party Originals.

"Has second had golden anodized case." This means the case is probably anodized aluminum (and used?), since very few metals can be anodized. "Golden" does not mean "gold". Anyway, if you're thinking this hard about your new excuse-to-drink novelty watch, you're probably not drunk enough.

Dinner jacket, sansabelts, and pipe not included. Dignity definitely not included.

At least the gentleman who bought this thing has a pistol on the mantle so he can do the right thing when he realizes what a loser he is.


Antiques Creepshow - Something to sleep on.

For all of our readers having trouble failing to sleep, today we bring you a report from an antique store for the criminally insane. Heeeere in the haaal of heeeaaaads.....

When paint ceramic glaze, or some other kind of coating gets old and starts to crack, it is said to have "crazed". ("It has crazed", "It's starting to craze", "This one wheel has lots of crazing around the lip."etc.). This doll head is now crazed in more ways than one, from its cataracts to its Death Valley skin, not even the Quay brothers will touch this thing.

On the bad ship lollipop. 'Nuff said.

Three walls is a good start to this display case. Add a fourth wall, a canvas tarp and some twine. Add burlap, wrapped in hurricane fence, a nice deep hole - and oh yeah! - Add some fire. Refill hole. There. Perfect display case. Now let us never speak of it again.

Click for big.

Click for big.

Click for big.
Once again The Hall of Heads, by They Might be Giants proves to be a useful song.


Little Ads - Scoundrels only.

In the past, we called them cads, bounders, or scoundrels. But now, they're just douchebags, and assholes like that have always enjoyed products like this. Please enjoy these prurient ads from the back of god knows what pervy publication, all sent in by roving field reporter Steve Miller (no relation, so stop with the "Maurice" crap). Steve, in what sort of places have you been roving? One wonders. This is not to say that you should stop roving in those places, of course! Hat tip to Steve!

Apparently some scumbags get off on seeing girls brutalize each other. Lazy jerk, can't even get off his couch to go find brutalized women.

For those lucky guys who dream of having their eyeballs humped by nude women, and having cauliflower growing out of their earholes. Finally, a way to scratch both of those itches at once.

Some would argue that pulling your punches should be step one in attracting women, but then again, see ad #1, above.

These are perfect, assuming your cocktail parties have no real human women, which, if you're really thinking clearly, is in itself, far from perfect.


Poopdeck Fracas

Joke #1 - "Let me talk to Tenille or I'll let you have it! Where are those muskrats stowed, huh? I said WHERE ARE THEY?"

Joke #2 - Bruce was just about to let that dirty captain have it when he realized his T-square was hanging out, and then they both knew how he felt about him. This changed everything.

Joke #3 - "You call that a loxodrome? You're no captain, you're barely even a bosun! I'll have your stripes when we put in at Milton-Keynes for a resupply and those new ratlines!" Scene from the climactic final battle of "The Astrolabe Chronicles", adapted for children's theater by Admiral Cornelius Hornswicke (ret'd).

Joke #4 - So You Think You Can Punch, Sailor, Tuesdays at 8, on the Bravo network, for some reason.

Joke #5 - "I'll tell YOU when I've had enough gorg... I mean grog!"

[Commenter jokes will be added to the post.   -Mgmt.]


Earle E. Liederman - Get off the Earth!

For unassailable logic and rock-solid assumptions, you really can't beat the advertisements of muscle guys, like Earle E. Liederman, a newcomer to the pages of Phil Are GO! If there's one thing that history has shown us, it's that small guys have never made great changes in the world, and only muscle dudes have ever not gotten off the Earth.

Do you suppose his name might be a pseudnym, to sounds more leader-y? Google doesn't seem to think so. And how bout that? You c an still buy his book on Amazon! Anyway, time to read some long-winded ad copy!


Velvetex - Welcome, Mr. Bond.

Ah, Mister Bond! I see you have recovered from the sleepy-time drug that my henchmen shot you with. Your Q-branch didn't prepare you for everything, did they? It's a curare of my own formulation, containing Yoo-Hoo and color-safe Fab. Please, sit down on my luxurious Velvetex chair, with your feet on my luxurious, thick carpet. Yes, of course, it's wall-to-wall. My life of "crime", as you put it, does have its rewards. Mum, hmm hmm hmm hmm ha ha hah! Sit. And don't try the carpet shuffle trick on me. My Nehru suit is grounded.

I said SIT! Very good. You might as well enjoy your last few moments on Earth, Mr. Bond. Please enjoy my Velvetex drawing room and salutational chamber. Are you surprised that I know your real name? Don't forget you introduced yourself when you snuck into my vestibule by knocking on the door, which could barely be heard for its soft and luxurious Velvetex covering. But I digress. yes, when you told me your name, I wrote it down in my Evil Notebook, which is Velvetex, by the way. And so is my evil pen. I see you are impressed by my brand of espionage. Can I offer you a drink? I assure you, the mini bar is quite safe. I will kill you, Mr. Bond, but not with a drink. Extra ice, perhaps?

You can clink your ice cubes as loudly as you want, Mr. Bond. Your colleagues in MI6 cannot hear you, for you see, the walls are Velvetex, too. It dampens sound reflections, but not the actual volume of noises because only mass can suppress the transmission of sound waves through structural members and have you looked into what actual soundproofing costs? And they call me evil.

No, soft surfaces can only reduce sound reflexion, and do nothing to actually silence a room, but your ice clinks of distress cannot be reflected to your potential saviors in London, I assure you. Do your worst. The wallpaper is quite acoustical.

Ah, I see you have noticed my other walls. They are variously decorated with Velvetex also, for continued luxuriousness around the room. With such Velvetex wall coverings, I find it necessary to shout "silence!" much less often.

I see you're admiring my wall thing. Yes, it is brown, and some kind of leaf-shaped art or whatever. I bought it at the church rummage sale. Tower Records was throwing it away when they tore down their paraphernalia room. I find that it puts me in mind of early Yes albums in that I can't tell what it actually is, but leaves me with a defocused sense of spaciness and nonspecific narrative allegory that - Mr Bond!

Guards! Bond has slipped away! Curse my soft and luxurious Velvetex carpeting! His footsteps could hardly be detected as he made good his improvised escape plan while I waxed rhapsodic about my wall thing and it's comparison to early yes music!

You win this time Mister Bond, but you'll be back! I have lemon squares! LEMON SQUAAAARES!


Supplementary Sidebar - Farmer's Almanac's prediction for the winter of 2013-2014.

Yesterday I was just wondering how the hateful traumatic winter we just enjoyed would effect the coming summer. So, I did a little searching to find some long range forecasts. During this search, I was careful to avoid clicking on any Farmer's Almanac links, because I'd always heard that their accuracy was much the same as if you had predicted the weather by reading the burn marks in your toast.

Well, I accidentally found my way to the Old Farmer's Almanac's weather summary for November 2013 through October 2014 in the Chicago area. Of specific interest is their prediction of the winter. "How'd they do?" you ask? They're shit! Check it out.


I'd recommend not giving their stupid site any extra hits, so here's the pasted text, for your convenience and hilarity.

Annual Weather Summary: November 2013 to October 2014

Winter will be slightly milder than normal, with near-normal precipitation and below-normal snowfall in most of the region. The coldest periods will be in mid- to late December, early and mid-January, and in early to mid-February. The snowiest periods will be in mid- and late December and in late January.
April and May will be warmer and a bit rainier than normal.
So there you go. Here we are in April and it's pretty damn cold and cloudy most of the time. Don't even get me started on January and February. Most of the time, the OFA's predictions are so vague as to be useless "In spring, turning warmer!". But to miss something as huge as the winter we just had strains credulity a teensy bit.

There's a term skeptics use: "confirmation bias". Basically, the way it applies here is that positive results are reported very loudly and misses are sort of swept under the rug. This is one of the things that accounts for pretty much every psychic in the world. There's a great podcast called The Skeptic's Guide to the Universe, and every January or so, they do a special episode where they review the past year's psychic predictions. They call out the things the psychics predicted that never happened, as well as the huge events they completely failed to see coming. This is kind of how the Farmer's Almanac works, I think. People are excited when they get something right, but it doesn't seem to make the news when they completely blow it on something as huge and obvious as the Polar Vortex winter of '13-'14.