Archive for December, 2022
Personal Ads for Animals
The Animal Kingdom is no longer depending on animalistic urges to incentivize procreation. The new critter-based dating app, Downward Dog, circumvents the need for far flung pheromones or the need for going into heat to promote hook-ups. Downward Dog promises feral fun and frenetic frolic for frisky fauna. Whether you’re a voluptuous vertebrate or simply a spineless sensualist, Downward Dog has a matching varmint for you.
See sample ads below:
- Bi-Curious Monkey Swings Both Ways – I mean I’m a monkey. We always swing both ways, but you know what I mean 😉. Bi-Curious George awaits your response.
- Forlorn Male Mutt – Seeks cute bitch for some canine fun. For a dog I’m a little kinky. I like to do it Missionary Style.
- Introverted Snail – Willing to come out of my shell if you’re slimy enuf. OK if homeless (no shell). Likes roleplay where we cover ourselves in garlic and olive oil and play “Escargot.”
- Open-minded Feline Seeks Extra Special Pussy – Into mutual tongue bathing and long walks by the fish market. Fur color no barrier.
- Do Opposites Attract? – Well-hung Teacup Chihuahua looking to satisfy a Great Dane. Let’s make this happen.
- Black Widow – Seeks yet another male partner. I don’t know why I go through so many. They just seem to disappear after we mate. Hope to see you on the web.
- Financially Secure Schnauzer – Seeks like-minded female Terrier for platonic pleasures. I like “going bye-bye,” eating my “wet food” and drinking from a large, white porcelain thing with a big hole in it.
- Neutered Newfoundland – Seeks spayed Shih Tzu for platonic pleasures: sniffing, paw-holding and rolling over.
- Aardvark with Very, Very Long Tongue – Prefers a female aardvark who likes to make mountains out of molehills. Also I’d like to meet your aunts.
- Rhino Seeking RINOs – Horny Rhino (aren’t we all) seeks RINOs (Republicans In Name Only) for inter-species fun. Offering the best in bestiality.
- Skeletal Tyrannosaurus Rex seeks Skeletal Brontosaurus for a Fun Night at the Museum – Would really like to jump your bones.
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Break::::: A Catnap, some Kibble, and maybe I’ll tickle my tongue with Wrigley’s Fruit-striped gum. We now resume more Downward Dog ads:
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- Every Day is Hump Day for this Dromedary Camel – What’s your pleasure madam? – One hump or two.
- Venus Fly Trap – Seeks flies for quick, snappy visits
- Misbehaving Malamute Likes to Do It on the Paper – I’m chipped, STD free and told I am a great panter. I behave best when I’m kept on a short leash.
- I’ll Admit It, I’m a Leg Man – Male centipede seeks female centipede with great legs – at least 100.
- Single Cell Narcissistic Protozoa – Hopes to divide myself in two and fall in love with my better half.
- Angelfish – Seeks amphibian for a breath of fresh air. I’m tired of dating big fish in my small pond. Maybe you’re the toad I’ve been waiting for.
- Sexy Seahorse Seeks Horny Horsefly for Adult Horseplay – Riding bareback is the mane thing
- Gay Parrot – Seeks birds of a feather to flock together. Hope you like flocking as much as I do.
- Weiner Dog Looking for the Right Bun – If we fit together then my condiments to the chef.
- Abominable Snowman Looking for an Abominable Snow Woman – I’m dreaming of a white Christmas with you.
- Frisky Ostrich Would Like to Bury His Head Into Something Besides Sand – Would prefer an ostrich that has spent time at a Petting Zoo or even a Heavy Petting Zoo
- Playful Mink – Seeks a nice Beaver (so what else is knew). Will also answer glossy-coated sables, chinchilla and even weasels.
Where’s Pa? A Reincarnation Snafu Explained
George Grossman died of natural causes at the age of 33 – if you consider being struck by a meteor “natural.” George’s bewildering demise occurred while he was walking into the hospital to witness the delivery of his second child who would turn out to be a son named Joe. Fatherless Joe (his mother Shirley never remarried) grew up longing for the father he never knew. Joe vowed that when he died, he would seek out his deceased father in the afterworlds.
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And one day, many years later, it came to pass that Joe did pass. Upon ascending to the vault of heaven (evidently he’d been a Good Joe) was pleased to find himself in the company of his long since deceased sister Kelly, his mother Shirley and a few family pets all gathered in a gorgeous iridescent meadow. But where was dad? He’d waited his entire life for this moment and dad was a no show.
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“What gives,” Joe exclaimed? “Where’s dad,” he lamented in the shimmering ethereal waviness of the afterlife?
Just then a Yoda-ish guardian angel appeared and explained to Joe that when his father George died (meteor to the head), George’s soul was placed in the body of his newborn son, Joe Grossman.
“You mean,” Joe gasped, “I’m a motherf…”.
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“No, no, no,” interrupted his guardian angel. “I wouldn’t use that term exactly. I mean yes, you did, but she was your loving wife at the time. Oedipal complexes aside, I’m here to tell you that you are your own father. That’s why he didn’t show up in the afterlife despite your lifelong yearnings. Now Joe, this rarely happens in the reincarnation business I superintend, but consider this snafu from my perspective. You had just been born and you had also just died, and there was no time to implement the usual Bardo protocols. To keep the supply chain moving, we took a short cut with the code of interdimensional reincarnation birthing procedures and placed your soul directly from your meteor-flattened body into your son’s newly born body. I hope you’re not too upset. We didn’t want to leave you in Limbo.
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“As a reward for enduring our production snafu, in your next lifetime we’re allowing you to get in line twice when they pass out brains – or any other organ you may want to double in size. You’re also scheduled to inherit the handsome gene from your mother’s side,” declared the angel. And with that crude gesture of frontier reincarnation justice, the little oracle evanesced into the ethers and returned to God’s After Party.
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Moral of the story: No matter how dirty you might be, never take a meteor shower.
Harvard’s Carbon-Dating Scandal
Background: In one sense Carbon–14 dating is a forensic method of determining the age of organic matter by measuring the decay of the Carbon–14 atom. In another sense, Carbon-Dating is a method for unscrupulous professors to groom unsuspecting Carbon-14 atoms for personal gratification. In either case it’s a ready way for professors (be they studious or depraved) to gain access to, and fraternize with, Carbon-14 atoms.
Dateline: Cambridge, MA — Harvard University’s Archaeological Board of Ethics has accused some tenured professors of engaging in unwelcomed Carbon-Dating, and that this so-called “Carbon-Dating” lacks proper supervision or safeguarding chaperones. In their defense, the Union of Concerned Scientists maintain that any Carbon-Dating has been completely consensual and absolutely necessary for carrying on their work in the field of dating antiquities. The board also accused the professors of dating antiquities without their consent, but that’s another story for another Age.
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More specifically the board has charged Prof. Adam Askew with some questionable Carbon-Dating practices. Professor Askew admits he’s dated hundreds, perhaps thousands of Carbon-14 atoms, but that in each case all his Carbon-Dating has been entirely consensual for both himself and the particle of matter in question – even going so far as to get permission from the molecule it was attached to. As expected the reaction of the atom community has been positive, negative and even neutral on the matter – isn’t that just like an atom.
One Carbon-14 atom declared, “This whole Carbon-Dating thing just doesn’t matter.” But then later admitted, “Well, maybe that’s just my anti-matter talking.” Several board members warned that humans engaging in any kind of merging or fusion with a Carbon-14 atom risk nuclear catastrophe in the form of one helluva a Big Bang, should they somehow manage to merge.
Professor Adam Askew admits that when he first looked at a Carbon-14 atom under an electron microscope it was, “love at first sight. Adam loved atom. And my affection is limited to the carbon atom and only the Carbon-14 isotope specifically. I could care less about sodium, strontium or antimony. Although I will admit, Cesium-137 looks quite fetching under the e-scope. You can read all about this in my book Up and Atom: Successfully Dating with Carbon-14.“
Pros and Cons of Carbon-14 Dating
- It’s hard to tell if a particular Carbon-14 atom is male or female. Sometimes you find out after it’s too late.
- Carbon-14 dating can determine the date of a 5000 year-old mummy within 3 weeks
- It’s a cheap date: Carbon-14’s eat nothing and its favorite movie is Honey I Shrunk the Kids
- They decay very slowly and generally have a mid-life crisis only about once every 22,000 years.
Some say this basic building block of life lacks soul and shouldn’t have protections on how they’re treated, so if some academic-type chooses to get his rocks off with an inorganic, rocky mineral that’s his business. It’s not like minerals are woke or anything. In any event there have been some shenanigans going on in Harvard’s labs. Electron microscopes have been used indecently in ogling Carbon-14 atoms in the buff – clothed only in a scanty shell of electrons. Heck, some Carbon-14 atoms have had their shells knocked-up to Carbon-16 atoms. When professors were asked how this mysterious electron augmentation occurred they sheepishly said, “Hey…isotopes happen.”
“This is plain wrong,” board member Prudence Goodwater inveighed. “A Carbon-14 atom cannot give consent until it’s at least Carbon-18.”
Scientists concerned about the Union of Concerned Scientists say this Carbon-Dating scandal has given the entire scientific community a black eye. Well it is sooty carbon, so what else would you expect. Maybe this story is true or maybe it’s just Harvard lampooning us. Meanwhile, be happy that even though you can never have this 3 minutes back, you invested it very wisely. I mean I hope it generated plenty of interest for you.
Ku Klux Klan Announces Annual 3K Race
Holy Sheet – Yes, It’s That Time of Year Already?
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This year’s 3K Race is a must for all you Racists out there. Racists from all sorts of backgrounds are welcomed: be they White, Caucasian, Aryan or just plain Anglo-Saxon. You see with the Klan, it doesn’t really matter where you’re from as long as you’re, y’know …melanin deprived. In the words of Matthew McConaughey, “All white, all white, all white.”
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So come rally ‘round the cross.
When: Friday the 13th January 2023
Where: Col. Judice’s Plantation in Ezra Swamp, Alabama
Length of Race: 3K – Run 1K at a time K-K-K
Activities: Run at 4, BBQ at 6. Cross burning to follow.
Note to Burning Man Fans: We know you like the cross burning, but we’re gonna ask y’all not to come this year until you better understand what we’re all about. As they say…not a good fit.
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Press Release from the offices of our leader and Grand Cyclops, Harmer Gullet:
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My Fellow Klan Members and Other Bigots,
If you love being a racist (and I’m pretty sure you do) have we got a 3K race for you. For obvious reasons 3K’s have always been the Klan’s sweet spot. It’s kinda like our Goldilocks distance.
Racists should note that for the first time our fundraising rally will be held at the Judice Plantation. Pre-Judice it was run at “Big” Ed Ott’s Manor aka BigOtt’s.
The Klan will use a portion of the funds raised to underwrite contour sheets for fashion-conscious Racinistas who don’t like to be seen in shapeless, billowing sheets. We try to keep up with the times and some of our snootier, Instagram Racinistas are quite particular in the sheets they wear. Heck some won’t even wear white after Labor Day. It’s a real problem at rallies.
The KKK reminds participants that anyone who runs in the race is, by definition, a racist. We will however, allow joggers – but they must be at least anti-Semitic. Participants are also reminded there’s a $35 entrance fee payable in cash or Confederate scrip.
New this year is the Marilyn Monroe “Seven Year Itch” station, where frisky lady Klanners can stand over a grate and have gusts of air blow their sheets above their waists just like naughty Marilyn did. Participants must wear show pants – no bareback and no men.
A barbecue and cross burning to follow. As always, BYOC (Bring Your Own Cross). And please remember to have your sheets treated with flame retardant spray before the BBQ – we don’t want a repeat of last year’s fiasco.
Well, that’s as best as I can tell you. I mean that’s asbestos, I can tell you.
I’m 3 Sheets to the Wind,
Grand Cyclops, Harmer Gullet