It’s the future, the year 2113. A huge nuclear star fell on earth killing everything and turning all of earth into a dessert, except for San Francisco cause of the smog acting like a force field over it. Things were still pretty bad here though. All the cars and buildings crumbled, and humans got shrunk down to the size of G.I. Joes. I was one of those people, and now I ride cats.
San Francisco is now made up of 4 gangs. The meow boys are with me, we ride cats outfitted with lasers, super machine guns and rocket launchers, we’re the best and biggest gang because cats are super agile and can jump high and run fast. The other gangs are the Doggers, they ride dogs, the Peeties, they ride budgy birds, and the Rat pack, they ride gerbils and hamsters. I remember one battle where I died and I found out my friend was a trader when we were battling the Doggers, our arch enemies. My friend came up to me on a dog, and I was like “hey, what are you doing.” but he said he stole the dog from a dogger that he killed, but I knew he was lying cause Dogger’s Dogs blow up if you have the wrong blood, they have pins in the saddle that check your blood, so he would have died if he tried. “I think you’re a dogger I said” then we battled, and he cheated and killed me.
As I looked down from heaven I could see that he had stolen my wife, but then I realized she was the reason he killed me cause it was her idea. Now I cry here in heaven alone every night , waiting till they die and come here so I can kill them and get my revenge.
Borel’s monkey, is one of the many names of the theorem stating that a monkey typing at random for an infinite amount of time will eventually type out the complete works of William Shakespeare, Hunter S. Thompson or any other collection of text which one might care to mention.
Now amazingly, a few researchers have actually carried out experiments studying the literary output of monkeys. In 2003 a group at the University of Plymouth left a computer keyboard in a Macaque enclosure at London Zoo. The monkeys only managed to produce five pages of text, consisting largely of the letter S, before they attacked the keyboard with a stone and began urinating and defecating on it. Mike Phillips, the team leader [of the researchers, not the monkeys] described the results as being “stimulating and fascinating.” However, readers should note that he is actually a media and arts lecturer rather than a real academic, and that the work was simply intended to get him on television.
But what about a real version of Borel’s monkey experiment? The brave researcher would face many challenges in setting up such a study. Even assuming that one could actually persuade the monkey or monkeys to type, getting then to do so for an infinite period of time would be no easy task. If the group of monkeys is of a finite number, then, they must type for an infinite period of time for us to be certain that they will produce the desired text. Some form of longevity treatment using stem cells might be possible to extend the life of the creature indefinitely, but what of the computer hardware? Even the old IBM office machines don’t last forever, and spares could become a problem. But there is another more serious difficulty, the possibility that the universe might end before the experiment is complete.
But what about many monkeys in parallel? Obviously to tackle an infinite problem in a finite time by conventional means one would need an infinite number of monkeys. But this approach is not without it’s problems either. An infinite number of monkeys would be particularly tricky to house and feed. One would still need infinite numbers of spare parts, and even though they would complete the task in a finite time, the monkeys would be infinitely dispersed and collecting the finished results would take, literally, forever.
But there is another worry here. Dealing with a small group of the creatures defecating on their keyboards is not a particularly serious problem, but what if an infinite number of monkeys turned bad? Clearly the prudent researcher would need to hold a large, possibly infinite number of Charlton Hestons’ in reserve to guard against their taking over the world. But considering the difficulty in obtaining even one functioning Charlton Heston, this is likely to be more difficult than it would appear.
Researchers at Cornell university have attempted to tackle this problem in a novel way. They constructed 26 quantum monkeys from super cooled Bose-Einstein condensate [ trust me, this is no easy task], and assigned each one a key. Whether or not the key was pressed was linked to the position of the monkey, and provided the system was not disturbed, each monkey exists as a wave function of two superimposed states.
Somehow [I’m getting bored and can’t be bothered to work out how], the system produced an infinite amount of information that ipso facto contained the complete works of Shakespeare. Now either this information vanished in a puff of smoke, spiralled off into other universes, or something, but whatever it did there was no Shakespeare for the researchers.
Interestingly though, in an attempt to guard against their being ravaged by a group of 26 super cooled quantum monkeys, a second research team was working on a quantum Super Heston. Having managed to secure his participation, they forced the veteran actor into a small box containing a Siamese cat and a vial of poison. Rather than being granted quantum super powers, Heston was heard shouting “You maniacs! You blew it up! Ah, damn you! God…damn you all to hell!” before mysteriously dying of pneumonia in his sleep.
Inside jokes are a surefire way to direct traffic to a comedy site! Here are some of the hottest ones currently in circulation:
5. “Heya Tammy, grissle and whistle?” (AMIRITE TAMS? LOL! ya comin to steves after?)
4. “Ben’s nothing but a slide n’ dive!” (REMEMBER BENS? LOL! u were so WASTED OMG! ya comin to tys after?)
3. “Busy much?” (HAHAHA JASE! LOL! ur NEVER busy! ya comin ta petes after?)
2. “Sandwich waffles n’ bacon spies! DEE-STROY! DEE-STROY!” (LOL ALICE REMEMBER? UR THE FUNNIEST PERSON EVA! comin to ricks afteR?)
And the top generator for LOLs amongst friend groups of 5-10 members this week:
1. “Blah? FLAH!!” (HAHAHAHAH! BENSIE’S A WENSIES! HA! RMEMEMBER? OMG THEN STEVE WENT HOME)
On a related note, is anyone going to Stan’s after?
1. He puts hollandaise on ice cream.
2. In his student days, he was fired as a highway flagman for inattentiveness.
3. As a cardinal he wrote a treatise proposing that the Catholic Church change its name to The Facts of Life Fan Club in an effort to draw in more converts.
4. He can recite the names of all 50 states with a gerbil in his mouth.
5. He supports the Polish government’s historical claim over Tibet, which is founded on the notion that it broke away in the early 11th century and drifted east.
6. He is allergic to Margaret Atwood.
7. He cried during “Deep Impact.”
8. His PokerStars id is Ducky.
9. He believes that modern packaging was designed by the devil.
10. He’s laughing over my shoulder as I type this.
1. You need special thread to sew with bacon.
2. Putting Tasers, Tibet and puffins together in a joke is difficult, but possible.
3. It’s not a good idea to clean your ears with a pencil on a float-plane ride.
Every year in May, the “Monster Daze” amateur monster truck tour makes it’s way back to Thomasville, Georgia. And every year, the “Custard Bowl” is filled beyond legal capacity with action hungry fans, eager to cheer on their old favourites, and to check out the new up and comers. Large or small, every truck here has a loyal legion of fans. However, this year, there is one truck that fans just can’t seem to get behind.
“Gay Marriage” is owned and operated by not yet husband and husband team: Stu Jergins and Bruce DeValvie. Stu’s the driver and Bruce is the mechanic. “I guess you could say, I’m the bottom and he’s on top,” jokes Bruce.
“Yes indeedy,” Stu boasts, “We’re all about crushing cars and breaking hearts! It’s just so much dag gum fun.”
Yep, those two love birds sure are a lot of fun, but unfortunately that “fun” hasn’t been very contagious on this year’s circuit. People here in the south don’t take kindly to men taken kindly to other men. “Now that shit just ain’t right,” claims one monster truck fan. “God don’t want no fagots in His monster trucks. Monster trucks is manly and cool and extreme and shit. No fairy fagot can hold a candle to ‘The Bitch Strangler’ or ‘Sister Fister’.”
As hard as he was to understand, we think this fan made a point, does “Gay Marriage” have what it takes to compete with the likes of crowd favourite “The Bitch Strangler”? We caught up with “Monster Daze” champion and long time driver of “The Bitch Strangler,” Roy Makelroy.
“So, Roy” I ask, “Gay Marriage, what do you think?”
“Gay Marriage is wrong,” Roy decrees. “We don’t need these stool pushers pedaling their political gay rights bull spit around here, this is god’s country. It’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.”
“Right” I return, “good one, but I think our readers would rather know what you think about the competition, what are Gay Marriage’s chances?”
“Real bad while I’m around,” breathes Roy, rage building. “Fuck this, I got some fagots to spank…beat.. ah hell this interview’s over!”
Well, it certainly seems like “Gay Marriage” in in a heap of trouble. The big show is just moments away, lets see how our boys do shall we?
Welcome folks to our main event. Our first match up of the evening is Gay Marriage vs….. The Bitch Strangler! Gentlemen, take you places. Is everybody ready!?! On your marks, get set, GO!
And they’re off, both trucks launching off the first jump and landing with ease. Twenty cars are crushed by each, then they round the first turn to the second jump. “Bitch Strangler hits his jump first followed closely by “Gay Marriage.” What’s this? OH NO! It seems “Gay Marriage” has jumped the track and landed right on “The Bitch Stangler’s” back. Good Lord almighty folks, it looks like old Roy’s being mounted from the rear.
“Yoo-hoo, I got you,” shouts Bruce.
“You shut your mouth homo,” Screams Roy. “Get your rainbow, unicorn, fairy fagot, truck off mine right now!”
“Whoopsys, looks like I broke an oil line Roy,” taunts Bruce. “I’m lubing you up real good.”
Alright lady’s and gentlemen, we’re gonna cover this shit up with a big tarp as soon as we can, why don’t ya’ll go get yourselves a nice godly heterosexual snack, like a nice corn dog, or a popsicle. We’ll call you back soon as the damnation’s done with.
Well, there you have it folks. It looks like that about wraps it up for “Gay Marriage” tonight. Taken out in the first race. Some might consider that a bad run, but not Bruce and Stu. I’m sure they’re celebrating their little victory right now. Gross.
I am, like, oh my god, I am so tot-lly,
In love with that guy, fuck he’s so, like, hot
I saw him in the deli buying goat cheese,
But goat cheese is to me, like so damn not.
I’m way more into whiz on crispy veggies,
I don’t like smells that smell like barnyard rot,
But damn that guy his smile was so not farmer
He made my pants a full 10 degrees warmer.
It’s Commemoration of Ataturk, Youth and Sports Day!
On this day in 1919 the War of Independence began in Turkey. Mustafa Kemal, later honored as Ataturk (“Father of theTurks,” in Turkish, or “bacon donair,” in Swahili) and the first President of the Republic of Turkey, landed on the main peninsula of Turkey to begin the Independence movement.
The Independence movement, which had grown organically (i.e.,containing carbon) out of opposition to a) the Allied partitioning of the Ottoman Empire, b) the invention of the Kaiser bun and c) the rotation of the Earth around the Sun, finally found a properly mustachioed leader.
During his presidency, Ataturk himself proclaimed the day “Youth and Sports Day,” in honour of the fact that youth and sports have always played a leading role in independence movements, particularly 13-year-olds and broomball.
So pffft a tinny, drag the old lacrosse stick out of the shed, and challenge the adolescent next door to a fight (if he’s up). Yay Ataturk. Yay Youth. Yay Sports. Yay Day.
Ah, black people. They’re amazing. They’re better than us at everything. Better athletes, better comedians, better musicians, better rappers, better fashion sense and now… More evolved! Just when us white dudes thought the race race might still be in reach, black guys hit the nitrous button and blasted off, out of sight.
The picture above: That’s Jerome Jackson of Three Mile Estates in Tallahassee. Jerome was born with a dope baseball cap for hair. Thats right, It seems black people have begun to climb up one more evolutionary step and are now being born with biological “fly gear.”
Jerome was born in 1983, and he is the earliest known example of what scientists are calling the “Bio-Crunk.” However, Jerome is by no means the only case. Just last week in Oakland’s San Mademas hospital an African American boy was born with malformed feet that could only be described by his father as “super fresh kicks.” And days later in Kentucky, a completely new sub category was created as a three year old boy was found to have been born with huge diamond earrings. This boy represents the first example of “Bio-Bling.”
So, what does this mean for the rest of us? This reporter is hoping some of the “nerdier” races start evolving as well. Maybe Asian baby’s born with calculator wrists, or Indian baby’s born with cash registers. German baby’s would definitely benefit from being born with socks and sandals, a fashion staple of german culture. Personally speaking, as a white male, I would be thrilled if my first born was equipped with canvas shoes, and a Cub Monaco sweater. Sharp, he would look really sharp. Or maybe a bow tie, and a spider man backpack.
With no examples yet discovered of any other races evolving, it looks like once again black dudes are way ahead. Seriously, golf and hockey people. What did we expect? Golf, and then hockey. It’s all we had.
1. Call your husband every half hour to make sure he’s not with a woman.
2. Only wear sweatsuits, blouses, and the most unsexual clothing you can find so that your husband knows you’ve only got eyes for him. If you can, try to get chunky so that other gentlemen don’t hit on you and threaten your marriage. (*Don’t get too fat. Then your hubby won’t even want to touch you)
3. Join a book club. If you’re reading a good book, your mind will be off cock and away from affair territory. Plus you can talk to your husband about the characters and evoke conversation.
4. Have a date-night once a week. Go out for dinner and a movie, and get one of your leggy 15 year old babysitters to watch the kids. Let your husband choose the babysitter. And the movie.
5. Fake orgasm with your husband as much as you can. If he feels he’s satisfying you, it’s less likely he’ll feel the need to satisfy another human being.
6. Give birth to a baby. It bonds you forever and often saves marriages when nothing else works.
7. On birthdays or special occasions, give your husband some vouchers for a hooker or the massage parlor down the street. Prostitute sex is not an affair. if you’re uncomfortable giving him this, then just turn a blind eye. He’ll think you’re really cool if you do it though. Again, prostitute sex is not an affair.
8. Divorce your husband. Not being married is the best way to affair-proof your marriage.
