Phyzzle posted:

Jeff Sichoe posted:

all that comic accomplished was making me wonder if klingon cocks have got those weird ridges on them too

Angela Christine posted:

No, but klingon vaginas do.

Angela Christine posted:

It's basically like loving an old timey washboard.

Furious Mittens posted:

This whole film was birthed in a tub of reject emo placenta.

Phlegmish posted:

http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=3543702&userid=0&perpage=40&pagenumber=5#post414408653

It's a kind of magic that only happens every now and then.

SciFiDownBeat posted:

The air is dry and hot. The sun is beating down upon the nape of my neck; my polo is soaked in sweat. Around me, the coliseum of twenty-somethings roars for blood. I look ahead towards my opponent: a burly Irish man, with a red pompadour and a thick curled beard. He's wearing a plaid button-down and a pair of Wranglers; the mixture of the tasteful formality and playful friendliness of his attire astounds me.

A gong blasts somewhere up high. The stylish man ahead grins devilishly, and casually pushes some strands of hair back into place on the well-kept crown of his head. He swaggers towards me, and I to him. Each footfall of ours is, behind the veneer of confidence, calculated and deliberate. Finally we meet, a pace away from each other. I can feel the heat radiating from his large form, and a scent passes through the air... Acqua di Gio? A shiver runs down my spine.

He extends an arm forcefully. I take one short breath. Remember your training, I think to myself. I extend my hand and grasp his firmly. Something flashes in his eyes. Worry? Fear? I don't ponder it for too long. Finally, he speaks: "Hello there! I'm Bradley Walsh, I'll be conducting your interview today." He turns and grins towards the masses, prompting a loud cheer. This one seems to be a real crowd pleaser. He turns again to me. "What do you consider..."--he pauses for dramatic effect, with some in the crowd still giggling and whooping--"...to be your greatest strengths?"

I plant my feet and stare at him, willing my body into place. I must not show weakness now, at this critical hour. Recalling my training, I reply, "I'm a people person, a team player. I love to find ways to enhance communication among members of my group. As you can see on my CV..." I continue a lengthy anecdote about my prowess. I feel beads of sweat coalesce and run down my face, but I do not dare let my voice waver. I can see his expression changing slowly--I can see it more clearly now--a complex mixture of bloodlust, rage, self-doubt, and manic glee. Countless legions of preppy upstarts, fresh from the college mill, have been felled by his hand; but now, what he might've thought to be a routine interview could become a brutal slaughter.

I finish my tale: "...so I am certainly an asset to any company looking to leverage their employees and provide real, long-term value." Each word is a sting in this mammoth hipster's pasty white skin, but a split second of shock is all he allows himself to feel before he rights himself, his arrogant airs returning to him.

"What do you consider to be your greatest weakness?" he recites with bluster.

Calmly, I return with, "I'm guilty of caring..." I pause, emboldened, "too much." At this, everything halts to a standstill. The crowd is hushed. The hip, edgy mountain of a man before me seems to have become a statue. I glare into his clear, focused eyes for a moment, before I allow myself to continue with a small chuckle. He follows me, chuckling and grimacing, his eyes full of fiery hatred for my daring play. The crowd breathes a collective sigh of relief. "Just kidding," I go on. "But to be frank, I have in the past, perhaps, prioritized punctuality over preparedness,"--Bradley snarls at my cunning use of alliteration--"but I have a stern commitment to my work, and, at the end of the day, my strong work ethic shines through, as I've demonstrated on numerous occasions including the projects I've outlined on my resume."

The beast is fuming with unbridled rage. He makes a shoddy attempt to compose himself before hastily muttering, "Er, why should we hire you?"

I focus all my power and strength. My muscles tense; my clean-pressed slacks ruffle in a small wind; my flowing hair, styled with the perfect combination of Lemon-Lime Garnier Fructis and beeswax styling gel, glistens and bounces. The moment of truth has arrived.

"Listen, Bradley--can I call you Brad?" This surprise maneuver threatens to pop one of the veins pulsating furiously on his forehead. "You *want* me at this company. I've gone into depth about my numerous qualities already. I'm..." Here we go. I take one step forward. "...proactive." Brad inches his foot a little behind him. I take another step. "Energized." He stumbles a bit backward. Before he can right himself I move again: "Team-oriented." He falls to his knees, gasping. I stand above him, and he looks up at me as if I could rend the very earth beneath him with a single flick of my finger. I kneel down to him. "And..." I whisper, locking eyes with him. The big finish is here, and the crowd knows it. With baited breath they wait for me to say it, and I hold the moment and stretch the tension for as long as I can. And then, finally---

"...synergized."

The crowd bursts into rapturous applause. They scream and holler, with a few voices beginning to chant my name. Several women in the crowd faint. Brad flattens himself to the ground, his head convulsing, his eyes twitching madly. The gong sounds once more to officiate my moment of glory and ascendance to near-godhood. I throw up my hands, grinning wide and true, hardly able to hear the blaring cornets over the wild mania of the people. My people.

Wulfolme posted:

A slightly bored FBI agent came to the place I work today and asked me if I had any plans to attack the United States or knew of any groups that were planning on taking violent action of any sort. It was kind of like a cop investigating a noise complaint that he knew came from some old grump that files formal complaint over loving everything, but I'm still kind of spooked now. I had to tell him that a particular website I frequent has a lot of people on it that talk a big game of violent uprising but would completely chicken out the moment they got their visit from the FBI. I would appreciate it if all you angry YOSPOSers and D&Ders would cool it a bit so I don't have to defend myself on that front again.

Weeks earlier in a dull moment when everyone else was making jokes about the San Bernardino shootings, I said I always wondered why they went so small as shooting people in a public place, and if they're willing to die to hurt America why not go all out and really blow up something that would send real shockwaves through the economy. Everyone made hay of this and called me a terrorist mastermind for a few hours. I don't know if this was a joke like SWATing that went more boringly than planned or if someone really worried about me having real plans to hurt America. That I said directly to them, in public, out loud.

I have a dog that's violent to strangers, and if any law enforcement kick in my door the first thing they'll do is shoot him dead. I'm not really worried about any other articulable thing. I just feel weird now. Weird, and sort of on edge.

Grem posted:

A federal agent actually had to come down to your work to tell you you aren't funny.

fyodor posted:

so maybe don't say poo poo out loud to your dumbshit co-workers. were you high or something?

whoflungpoop posted:

so you joked about terrorists blowing up important things to people you know IRL and this is D&Ds fault got it

Falun Bong Refugee posted:

The idea of someone trying to explain GBS to the FBI is hilarious.

ryonguy posted:

Falun Bong Refugee posted:

The idea of someone trying to explain GBS to the FBI is hilarious.

Your Dunkle Sans posted:

I laughed.

mr.capps posted:

i don't get the peeing on fire thing. firemen wouldn't pee on fire to save you.

mr.capps posted:

That doesn't make any sense, because its more humiliating for the pee pee guy then the pee'd guy

Lunchmeat Larry posted:

that dude's posts, especially in that thread, are extremely bad

Josef K. Sourdust posted:

Cervantes’s invented fictions may have been preceded by a canto of Petrarch, which refers to numerous writings by a monk called “Fishmech”, who inhabited San Qualcosa de Terribile monastery, Mantua. He was famed for his vast production and for an overtone of sardonic superiority to his scrolls, an approach which alienated his fellow monks, who might otherwise have been favourably disposed towards him. He was apparently expelled from the monastery a number of times but returned under different names. Petrarch describes the writings of Fishmech as containing some technically correct aspects yet intended to confuse the debate and place the writer at an apparent (yet illusory) advantage over his fellow scribes. Petrarch calls his writing brilliant yet essentially worthless and that these writings baffled readers. Furthermore, Fishmech was known to write on any subject known to mankind and that he perfected the ability to seem conversant on the most arcane of subjects while not actually knowing any more than his readers.

Petrarch coined the adjective “Fishmechean” (“Piscamachinaeani”), which roughly translates as “ever-present, dazzling and always to some degree incorrect”. The word is a dialect term now used only in Mantua.

No scrolls attributed to Fishmech survive, though they may yet exist under his numerous aliases. Scholars have been working on a concordance of the monastery’s most passive-aggressive scrolls and fragments of the most quibbling nature in an attempt to piece together the writings of this alleged scribe Fishmech. Other scholars have suggested that Petrarch was engaging in a kind of proto-postmodern metafiction and that Fishmech was indeed no more than an elaborate spoof of the most dedicated but sour monk who enjoyed moments of superiority yet endured long periods as a mocked outcast.

Your Dunkle Sans posted:

I laughed.

Your Dunkle Sans posted:

Yeah, it definitely got old fast, but reading those three in succession knowing it's stupid satire and not taking it seriously made me laugh.

Volume posted:

Wulfolme posted:

Oh no, in high school I wrote a note to a teacher that was taken to be a threat to go Columbine High on the place. I've been having 'the talk' with authority figures about how I need to stop talking about killing people for decades now.

Wulfolme posted:

Half the places I've worked people have come up to me unsolicited and asked me to spare them when I shoot up the place.

Why does this keep happening to me

uwaeve posted:

What's up, twin-having buddy?

I underwent a similar radical shift when I had my twins, but for me it was more of a career-based thing. To be perfectly honest, when my twins were born, I was actually out of town at a hospital after being injured on my first big business trip at my new job. Luckily, benefits had just kicked in so my out-of-pocket was virtually zero. Anyhow, I was sort of on the fast track at the new company, so once I got out of the hospital, it was straight back to work.

I really started focusing on me and my career path, because my new boss sort of hand-picked me, grooming me to eventually replace him. I had a basically a new identity, new clothes, my performance reviews were just outstanding, I was basically living the dream. Furthermore, my boss ended up pranking me about what had happened to my pregnant wife (he's pretty funny even though not a lot of people "get" him), so it kind of freed me up to focus on being the best I could be in my professional life. He really commits to a gag, it wasn't until years later that I even found out I had one kid, nevermind twins! loving guy knows how to time a joke for sure.

Anyhow, even though my health kind of went downhill after having kids, I like to think I made a lot of strides on a fundamental personal level. I was able to change my outlook from a petulant, whining crybaby that did nothing but blame others for my inadequacies to being a confident, no-nonsense go-getter on the fast track to the top.

I guess I'm making strides even on the health front. There was a sort of gently caress-up when I was trying to officially take over my boss's duties, and the changeover wasn't really the smoothest I'd ever seen. Basically I ended up blue and translucent and can only really see my kids on special occasions. The good news is in the last few years, I've shed probably forty years off my prior blue translucent body, and I've never looked or felt younger.

Thanks for sharing your story, I hope that by sharing these things we can be an inspiration to another family just trying to establish their superior genetic legacy.

Namaste.

Calaveron posted:

I don't think I understand the reference. Sue Storm?

JesustheDarkLord posted:

Darth Vader

Calaveron posted:

I don't think I understand the reference. Sue Storm?

JesustheDarkLord posted:

Darth Vader

Travis343 posted:

Blue Story

Travis343 posted:

It's cool the entire Blue Story thread is about starwars and people in that thread also didn't get it

sweeperbravo posted:

context: BFC girl thread, people talking about turning their lives around when they become parents

Mans posted:

Can you give a short summary about BFC girl? I haven't followd her since the summer, honestly because i just assumed the thread was gassed and she was banned

Travis343 posted:

The thread did a little tour of the forums which didn't really amount to much, Blue Story re-regged and had been diagnosed with gestational diabetes and then had a 2 month premature baby. Baby is currently living in a tube at the hospital and BS is back at work eating Atkins tv dinners and microwaved eggs instead of Taco Bell three times a day.

I dont think she's mentioned what her husband is doing during all of this but apparently he did bother to witness the birth at all which is pretty surprising given that thread.

Travis343 posted:

The thread did a little tour of the forums which didn't really amount to much, Blue Story re-regged and had been diagnosed with gestational diabetes and then had a 2 month premature baby. Baby is currently living in a tube at the hospital and BS is back at work eating Atkins tv dinners and microwaved eggs instead of Taco Bell three times a day.

I dont think she's mentioned what her husband is doing during all of this but apparently he did bother to witness the birth at all which is pretty surprising given that thread.

Pulp Can Move posted:

An old farmer looks up from his work, wipes his brow, and considers at an approaching cloud.

"Downtime comin'."

Veskit posted:

When do we get to find out what she meant by superior genetics and why she needs to use them?

Crow Jane posted:

She's weaponizing frump.

Travis343 posted:

Old rear end forums need plenty of rest

Travis343 posted:

Today I logged in to the Something Awful Forums and a werthers original fell out of my DVD drive.