Showing posts with label Trapezus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trapezus. Show all posts

Monday, May 28, 2018

Some Upcoming Info Wars Conspiracies For Your Weak Brain


It's the beginning of the week, and yet the Info Wars staff are already working on next week's ultraconservative horseshit for Alex Jones to push out of his reddening basketball head. Here are some of the stories they're working on:

• Democrats invented death.

• Every time you watch a Proactive infomercial, George Soros gets another teenage sex slave delivered to his all-chocolate water slide/sex dungeon.

• The third Sam Raimi "Spider-Man" movie was made terrible on purpose so that audiences would hate anything that came in third. This eventually saved the nation from a third Obama term.

• Those claw machines you see in arcades actually contain miniaturized immigrants hiding inside the stuffed animals, and every time you win one, you've let another terrorist across the border.

• Conservative talk show hosts with basketball heads sitting on fat necks shouldn't wear ties or tight collars– it makes you look like a fucking water tower or lollipop.

• Atheists everywhere are already planning this year's War on Christmas, poisoning Christmas tree farm crops and intercepting all Elf On A Shelf correspondence to Santa. BE VIGILANT, CHRISTIANS!

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

This Week In Hip Hop Awfulness


Sure, Lil' Wayne, if your last name is Carter, go ahead and associate yourself with a lackluster Disney movie. At least Jay-Z passed on this cover.


Hey, you missed three of the candles, Ya Boy. Trappy Birthday, anyway (I make it a point to avoid listening to any mixtapes that include the word "trap" in it).



Gucci Mane and Rocko wonder where the hell AAA is when they said they'd send someone over in 20 minutes. I mean, this is a dangerous neighborhood.



There's nothing Presidential about being afraid of dandelions.



A shrink ray has rendered five popular rappers unable to play a decent game of b-ball, so there's nothing left to do but sit glumly on the now-enormous basketballs and enjoy some fireworks.


1) If your girlfriend enters your number as 'BOYFRIEND' in her cell phone, she probably doesn't think that much of you.

2) Three guys' names on top of "MUSIC WE CAN FUCK TO" sounds like they're either ready for a gang bang or are speaking to each other. Knock yourselves out, fellas.

3) When the word "FUCK" is in the title of the mixtape, I'm pretty sure the Parental Advisory sticker is unnecessary. But people these days bring babies to a midnight movie, so who knows.

Thursday, May 31, 2007

Oh Jeez.


Why? Why is he so sexy? How can I have these feelings?

So sexy. Sexy. Very extremely sexy. Hard to grapple with these feelings of confusion and desire. Must not want him. So sexy.

Tough to deal with, these urges. But it's his sexy, rippling body that's sending these signals to me. So sexy. Extremely, very sexy. So tan!

Jeans. Tight jeans now. So sexy. Mind racing. Heart pounding. Sexy. That Doctor Dude is doing a real number on me. Can't feel my extremities. Getting dizzy.

Must look away. But burned in my retinas, his sexy physique. Taut, firm and bronzed. He's a doctor, too. Plus, apparently he owns a boat.

Damn you, in flight magazine advertising!