Against all better judgement, my ass got throwed into a yuletide frenzy this afternoon. I was at Target when this came on over the speakers, and it turns out that my love of loud 70's glam overrides my ambivalence about winter holidays.

My pleasure saucer will include a vending machine that dispenses disco puppies.

"Valley of Gwangi" was the first monster movie that scared the fertilizer outta me. I remember I was very young, and it was a big deal because it was on TV IN COLOR!

It was the scene where the dinosaur was chasing the cast after roping him didn't work. One of the hired hands fell off his horse, and Gwangi made short work of him.

Me : Did, are they gonna go back and help him?
Dad : No, I think the dinosaur got him.

So I intended this year to have a holiday weekend where I didn't have to listen to anyone prattle on with their stupid wrong-headed racist politics (yes, mom & dad, that's you).

And all went fine until I went to a friend's place to drink beer and watch the Dallas Cowboys lose. And I end up sitting next to a friend-of-a-friend who was a goddamn FLAT EARTHER!

Even worse, he was completely unaware of Discworld, so my speculation as to the gender of The Great A'Tuin went nowhere.

If the presence of monkeys disproves human evolution, does the absence of yeti prove Subgenius evolution? :pp01:

Fact : I write the web's least funny and least-read webcomic. Here's a preview of Monday's comic.

Big John boosted

@johnhattan God forgot to make stupidity painful. The Church of the SubGenius is here to fix that.

I apparently got that blood that's compatible with everyone, so I get some sucked out every few weeks.

Yep, some ordinary human is gonna be damn lucky to get some fine well-spiced dijon Yeti-blood,

And I'm back in Denver. All the bathrooms in this city smell funny.

Friend of ours had a baby. We had some shark-themed flannel, so my wife crocheted a matching toy to go with the baby-blanket.

This has nothing whatsoever to do with CotSG, but it's pretty goldurned cute.

Big John boosted

Today's the day. my third interview is in a few hours. I'm ready to sell myself, "Bob".

I talked to my current boss the other day and told him I am planning on moving on and told him in a roundabout way that it's ok that he sucks as a boss and he gave me a fuckin' hug.

This is it. This is where time travelers are supposed to stop me from going down this path. I've only been waiting to embrace my inner-salesman in order to ignite this fire sale in my soul.


Is there a department or something where I can submit my harebrained ideas for conversion into rightwing urban legends that my elderly relatives will post to Facebook?

I'm convinced that the cup on the right can be flattened out and used as an ouija board to summon demons.

@negative I got that vape cartridge of sugar free vanilla birthday cake sativa in my rechargeable USB blunt.

While in Munich, my wife tried to blend in and not look like some stereotypical American. I think she nailed it.

When I was a child I accidentally kicked a dwarf. When I refused to apologize, he cursed me to marry a woman who drunkenly sings Tony Orlando and Dawn while dressed in superhero spandex.

Apologies for the lack of updates. I was on a secret international mission codenamed "Fly to Munich with the wife, so we can drink beer and eat bread for four days".

I report success in this mission.

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