Misery Bear

Less is more

More at Shoottheglass.bigcartel.com

You may also want to check out Ibraheem Youssef's excellent "Quentin Tarantino tribute" series.





Spotted over at The Daily What.

God will never give you up...

You all know my feelings on Mr Astley's music from one of my previous posts. However when you come across something like this you can't help but reflect that perhaps everything does have a higher purpose and may actually exist for a reason yet unbeknownst.

Well, now we know:



...To hear a guy preaching the words of the prophets Stock, Aitken and Waterman as if it were biblical text ...surely that's reason enough?

Red Romance

I see that Mr Joe Bloke is back with us again over at Grantbridge Street

To celebrate (I know, celebrate does sound a bit too overstated and wanky doesn't it?! Anyhow...)I nabbed this link: rcubedagain from his site. There you will find a great short story by Joe Lansdale and Bruce Timm, taken from the DC horror anthology Flinch.



It's one of my personal favorites.

A bagful of umbrage

The dog shitting video got me thinking about other such fecal matters and pissing provocations, most of which I experienced on my recent trip to Ireland.

For one: I will no longer point and snigger at someone in Vancouver for picking up their dogs mound of steaming excrement in a little plastic bag and then placing it in their coat pocket. Well, apart from the old lady who sits on her honkers holding her little diamond studded black handbag just beneath her Labrador's ball-sack to catch its falling poopsicle. No; I feel I am fully entitled to stand across the road and shake my head in complete disbelief and utter horror at this woman's base and rather perverse actions. Even the dog appears to be somewhat disturbed by it all: Why a handbag? Why the kneeling? Why do you have to watch me shit, and more-so why the fu#ckin' hell are you smiling?

You see, nobody in Ireland picks up their dog-shit. The pavements are not unlike battlegrounds with varying types of shit-mines that you find yourself constantly trying to avoid. If you asked someone in Belfast or Dublin if they were planing on picking up that freshly baked chocolate truffle, they would either:
A)Laugh.
B)Throw the freshly laid turd at you (and laugh)
C)Ignore you and 'tut' like you where some sort of crazy person.
D)Tell you to f*ck off!
E)Set the dog in question on you.
F)Use your mouth as the collection bag.

Note to Irish city councils: Perhaps if you produce little collection bags that have various Irish celebrities or politicians imprinted on then i.e., the face of Brian Cowen, O'Dea, Pat Kenny, Bono or Sinead O'Conner to name but a few. That added incentive may actually help the dog owner to be a little more impassioned in regard to filling that bag with steaming hot shit. Make it fun! Add addresses to the bags and free postage (taxes need to go somewhere) so the said dog owner can then post their poop to a politician or celebrity of choice. Imagine the fun when thousands of shit mails land at the doorstep of Dáil Éireann or the thought of Pat Kenny opening his turgid turd mail over a morning coffee. Then not only will the shit be removed from the streets and parks of the city but will also find a welcome home where the stench will just blend into its natural surroundings.

It really is a win, win situation!

Supercatcher

Kinda similar to a one humped camel but instead of carrying water on its back it carries its own shit.

2010

As it is my first blog post of 2010 I thought I should start the year in the way I mean to continue.

Yes, in a truly mediocre fashion with tit-bits that wouldn't even give a monkey pause from buffing the banana!