http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/badastronomy/2009/03/26/texas-from-saved-to-doomed-in-just-6-hours/

The above link is just further proof that separation between church and state is a joke, at least where Texas public schools are concerned.

One thing I've been wondering about; If the public school's text books in these areas of majority ignorance teach "intelligent design" and that the earth could well be 6000 years old, are questions on God's role in creation on the tests? Is there a multiple choice question somewhere that reads:

How old is the earth?
A: 20 years old.
B: 6000 years old.
C: I'm a Godless heathen.
D: All of the above.

When I was 5 years old my grandparents took me to the Smithsonian institute to see the space shuttle my grandpa helped build. When I was young I was real big on any book about dinosaurs, so I really wanted to go see the bones. After about 15 minutes of begging, I finally convinced my grandma to escort me down the hall of fossils. That's when I first saw the T-Rex...

The T-Rex was a big deal for me! I saw pictures in books, I couldn't help my excitement, I sprinted over to the exhibit. "Grandma! Grandma! Look! It's the T-Rex! It's really here!"

"No...", said Grandma with a look of serious disgust in her eyes, "Those 'bones' were planted by Pagan scientists at the Devil's behest in an attempt to lure us true believers from the truth of Creationism, and condemn us all to hell. The T-Rex never existed."

Stunned, I stood there for a full minute contemplating what had just been told to me. My adolescent brain chewing with all it's might, trying to make what grandma said stick in with everything else I knew about reality. After plenty of complete silence, finally I point at the fossilized remains before us and said "But Grandma... It's right there!"

Creationism: So intensely retarded, a 5 year old can disprove it by pointing.

Way to go, Texas!

Sometimes orgasms are like Pringles. You can't have just one.

I'm OK. How are you? Thanks for asking. Here are some pranks that you probably shouldn't pull!

Prank #1: Puking in and around somebody's mouth while they're sleeping. This one is kind of self-explanatory... but as an avid viewer of How Things Work, I feel it my obligation to flesh this one out. How could I be so bold as to tell you not to do something this fun without a damned good reason, right? Right. Let's start with the fact that you'd have to make yourself barf! Puke doesn't taste good, and it's not a prank if you're laughing with your target. Tasting your own puke is too much work for too little reward. Also, the person targeted would never, ever trust you again.

Prank #2: Lighting dog shit candles in a dark corner of somebody's basement. More involved than prank #1, but less orally-invasive and with a significantly longer impact. Again, you probably shouldn't do this, but for the sake of education I will tell you how! Simply begin making a scented candle, and mix a heaping pile of fresh doggy poo into your wax. Gross? Yes. A good reason why you need to take this message as a clear warning! But finish the process as usual, plant one or more of your customized "designer" candles in somebody's basement, and light. Within 24 hours, the inner walls of the entire complex (up to 4 floors) will be permeated with the faint but pungent smell of a Wendy's restroom for up to 5 years.

I've seen real estate sharks use this method. It's been at the center of several major cases involving arson and so-called insurance fraud. This is, perhaps, the ultimate form of intellectual revenge (oxymoron?) that also happens to fall under the category of "scatological." You can't scrub the smell out. Many houses have been condemned after this prank. It is dangerous and not recommended!

Prank #3: Disguising 2 week's worth of your own urine as a keg of Budweiser beer and delivering it to a college keg party.

...

True, nobody would notice the difference. Just, no.

Prank #4: Mixing tomato chunks with menstruation, and serving with nachos on football night. Did you know that salsa is America's favorite condiment? As a devout ketchup fan, I feel it my obligation to tip the scales. But if you're on the fence about pulling this prank, I will pose a question: do you hate your friends? If not, I suggest you stop digging in the garbage for your girlfriend's used 'pons and go visit Old El Paso!

If so, I think you should know that it goes great with red wings.

Just because February is Black People Month doesn't mean that there aren't black people in other months.

So I was at the supermarket the other day, perusing various goods... when something occurred to me: Cranberry is a slut!

Why does Cranberry have its dick in every other fruit's business? Especially in the juice department! Do you ever see Raspberry Juice? Fuck no. But you do see Cran-Raspberry. Cran-Strawberry. Cran-Grape. Cran-Mango. Even Cran-Apple, bridging the void between two very market-savvy fruits! What do I mean by that? Think about Thanksgiving! What is the sole fruit item associated with this, the biggest meal of the year? Cranberry sauce! What is this monopolizing shit? Does the cranberry have a big case of small dick syndrome? (see what I did there?)

Another thing that gets my goat is this New England weather. I've lived here for almost 25 years, and you know what I say? Bring on global warming. I don't care if the apocalypse comes, the polar ice caps melt, and my children's children drown in a city-crushing tidal wave. It is fucking cold, and I'm tired of it. I fell down the stairs a few weeks ago because they were undergoing a glacial transformation, much like the streets! I have to drive like an old lady and walk like an old man. Despite this, I've gotten so good at hydroplaning that I'm ready to start a clinic! Get a little side income going, y'know? It's madness.

And who is this Sarah Palin? The name rings a bell but I'm drawing a blank.

Despite all of my efforts to the contrary, I am slowly becoming Jesus Christ.

Much like Tim Allen in the Santa Clause films, I am predestined. Not to be Santa Claus, but to go an entire notch higher. Ladies and gentlemen, I am your Lord and Saviour incarnate. I recently discovered that I have what has, as of yet, gone undocumented as "Messiamorphosis"... or "Jesus Christ disease" as it is culturally accepted.

In time, my ability to travel across the surface of water without sinking will increase tenfold. Likewise, I will soon be able to transform wheat byproducts into fish at the flick of a wrist. I will even be able to compromise and create tuna sandwiches, something that the original Jesus was too much of a purist to consider. It is my blessing, it is my curse.

Don't believe me? Just look at this beard growth!



In only three weeks, Mother Nature has begun a deliberate movement to make me more visibly analogous to the Christ that we all know and love. My golden lace bathrobe's already on order, with Super Saver Shipping! Any day now, my powers will kick in and we'll be able to start some shit!

Indeed, friends. I am ready to lead mankind.

So I cut my right hand, right in the palm, whilst handling a large sharp chefs knife. There's basically a large gash right in the web between my index finger and thumb... So basically, I seriously damaged my masturbating hand.

Now it is true that any right-handed man who masturbates with the aid of a computer does learn how to spank his monkey with some degree of efficiency with his left hand so his right hand can work the mouse, but really, lefty is just a fall-back. For all the real serious wanking, you need your dominant hand!

I'm curious, though. Taking stem cells from unborn babies and applying them to grown humans can result in some amazing regrowth of damaged tissue... If I got sperm in a cut, would it heal faster?

...

Well, at the very least we know it doesn't sting.

Just when you thought that there was no new argument for why you shouldn't play video games too long, an innovation in console gaming is born...

Josh's Girlfriend: Maybe you should give the Wii Fit a rest for the night.
Josh: Why's that? I've only been playing a half an hour.
Josh's Girlfriend: I know, I can smell your balls from over here!

Thank you, Nintendo, for creating a gaming experience that makes you sweat balls. You've ushered in a whole new level of intimacy for any two people who share a living room, and have created a whole new genre of entertainment in the form of watching the people closest to you wiggle around incessantly for no apparent reason.

On a related note, if you've never had naughty thoughts after watching a girl play Wii Fit, then you need to buy your favorite female one immediately so you can get on board with this. Seriously, you don't know what you're missing. Consider it highly recommended viewing.

Meet Knifey McKniferson.



Remember kids; I'm a professional idiot, and you probably shouldn't try this at home.

Bad news; Due to shitty weather conditions, we had to push back our shooting of me doing insanely dangerous things with a knife. It is happening though, you'll be the first to know when it's done.

Good news; The weather was great for shooting this;