May 27th, 2004

So Amazon could do with working on their customer service a bit, then...

I recently ordered five million books from Amazon, and paid an extra £1000 just to make sure that I got excellent service. Instead they e-mailed me 7 buckets of manure, molested my Mother and traveled back in time and slaughtered my ancestors. I spoke with my credit card company, and they said that they are currently investigating Amazon for attempting to dig a tunnel straight through to the other side of the earth and drop a bowling ball down to see what happens. I have e-mailed them back their manure on eleventeen occasions and used my pickup truck to drag their Warehouse from Kent to Scotland, but so far they have yet to respond. I demand ANSWERS!!!

From lovely_shukes, here.
can't a girl get a moment

(no subject)

“You represent the worst kind of enemy to the Empowerment of Womyn in today’s society! You write evil anti-feminist articles and support the objectification of womyn by chauvinist men in today’s society! Your pen is—”

“Mighty. Very mighty. And stop saying ‘in today’s society.’”

EW’s eyes blazed with righteous estrogenic fury as she threw herself at the Cynic, snarling something that sounded like “pen.” The Cynic stepped nimbly aside, allowing EW to run determinedly, independently, and in a self-empowered fashion head-first into a lamp post and knock herself out. Then the Cynic resumed its walk to class. This could have been dangerous. Had EW attacked anyone less self-possessed or more easily swayed than the Cynic, the stupid feminists might have won themselves a new convert. As it was, the Cynic happened to glance back over its shoulder and notice that a bunch of Aberzombies had picked up the limp form of EW and were carrying her toward the pond, presumably under the misapprehension that she was a new kind of bench.

Excerpt from vivian_shaw's hilarious post on overzealous feminists.
Do You Not Believe My Cuteness?

(no subject)

May I recommend Holland? Of course, there are those annoying tulips, windmills and clogs and the difficulty in ascerning who is a hooker and who is not. :-)

-- sevenall

[The riding mower] was still making the occasional shrieky noise I remember from last year. I pondered as I mowed the next most weedishly out-of-control area, and then it came to me! The belt that ran the mower deck was the problem!

It came to me because it broke, which meant the blades would no longer turn. Since driving over the weeds hoping to frighten them back into the ground with the loud roar of my well-tuned engine seemed kind of, well, stupid, I quit.

-- neonnurse
K: Eeevil!, Eeevil!
  • kielle

(no subject)

[According to some anti-Potter nuts] unicorns are Satanic symbols. Bwhahahahahah! You know this makes every girl who's ever owned a unicorn folder/sticker/clothing a Satanist? Dammit, I knew them wee girls were up to no good - and now I have proof! I actually feel a little guilty at being amused by this because if indeed there are Lisa Frank Unicorn Satanists they must have a rough time of it with the other Satanic cults. "Dammit, stop using us as live sacrifices...gaaaaaghh!"

-- inkysweet here
my fandom SP QE

The Ultimate Reality TV

There we go. Take the winners of these reality shows and put them in a petting zoo with cuddly animals.

Of course, by "winners" I mean "carefully selected media-friendly candidates". And by "reality show" I mean "poorly-booked attempt at convincing the audience that it's not rigged, in a sad effort to draw ratings".

And of course, by "petting zoo" I mean "abbatoir that would make Caligula have inadequacy issues" and by "cuddly animals" I mean "starved crack-addict lions on Viagra who will violate these wonderful "winners" for our amusement live on NBC from 8-10pm."

--nute, in a comment here
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clueless students

Hi! Er. New.

srichard says:

The Anglo Saxon Chronicles (D) describe the crowning of William the Conqueror, and then offer this catchy little phrase: "And always after that it grew much worse." Sometimes I feel like there must have been some such turning point in my life after which everything went to hell.

SP Dee

Alan Smithee called. He wants nothing to do with this movie.

Ask neonhummingbird about the brain-damaging effects of seeing being tortured by a trailer to "White Girls" twice in a row. I forget who went hysterically blind and who went hysterically deaf.

Then I see on the TV an advertisement for something called "Soul Plane", and I swear, that killed off the part of my brain that held the Federal Rules of Evidence.

I once saw a squid that could probably script a better movie. The fisherman had just finished slamming the squid into the pier to finish it off, like squid fisherman are wont to do, and the squid was STILL more capable of intelligent film-making than ... whoever put their name on "Soul Plane".

[C] - poutfaced

You get what you wish for...

I am an idiot.

I was all "Oooh! 'Full Frontal' you say? I'll check that out on Kazaa, see if they have any episodes."

Do you know what happens when you search for 'Full Frontal' on Kazaa? You get naked people. Naked, naked, naked.

*sigh* I should have known better.

--prairiedaun here on her experience while trying to find disturbing clips of Eric Bana in old Australian Comedy Sketches.
if i forget thee o earth

copperbadge attempts to find peace and quiet

copperbadge: I woke to Bernard watching something with lots of screaming. He has continued to watch something with lots of screaming. I have decided that tomorrow I am going to indulge in a little home-improvement planning, namely, how to seal off the loft so that I do not have to hear Bernard watching screaming things ever again. I'm thinking if I plaster between the railing beams it'll have a fun mock-Tudor look, and then I can take down the drapes I installed -- yes, I sewed them myself, nobody believes I'm straight but I promise it's true -- and put in appropriately rustic shutters.

I shall require a small jig-saw, a makita battery-powered screwdriver, a ten-pound bag of industrial grade plaster, and a lot of plastic dropcloth.

I am Sam. Hear me Remodel.

ygrane: Sam, I think you have now officially earned the title, "The Gayest Little Straight Boy Ever!"
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Why I love gulgothica

So here we have the Seven Deadly Sins trapped in an endlessly recurring Hell of hope followed by denial and despair, forced to live with each other in our TVs until the last re-run ends. And who is their captor? What keeps them trapped there?


Gilligan is Satan. Think about it.

One final thought... Gilligan always wore red.

The whole post can be found here
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From master_flea

So at one point last night, I'd been getting pretty sick of people coming up and fondling my boobies, so I started grabbing people by the head when they did, and crushing their faces into my cleavage. If tits they want, tits they'll get.