Ehhh

Grateful to the Chipettes, the penguins snowball the henchmen into submission as the girls escape.

Frubaklop — Fri, 10 Sep 2010 01:05:35 +0000

This school talks about conserving, but has all these

automatic, unprovoked sprinklers for the sidewalks,

including two just for the sign, and this is the only place where I’ve had a self-flushing toilet go off while I was physically adhered to it (not pictured).

Perhaps I worry too much, and should not concern myself with this. After elf, as a wise philosopher once wrote

Sometimes people
Just Don’t get it
Be patient And Don’t
Sweat it

Oh gee excuse me, that was something I saw scratched in a toilet stall of the second most remote restroom of this university, in the ground floor basement of the library which people only go to for the internet computers which aren’t on that floor. Even if it lacks a prestigious showcase, it does prove one important thing: I am not nearly as safe in there as I thought. The scribe might come back And I Don’t want to be in there then. How will I protect myself?

On a related but not entirely relevant note, there are some things that are counterproductive to cover with shielding plastic.

well see now that’s just immodest. You ought to be ashamed. I can’t toi-let you get a way with that.

The wall refuses to move

Frubaklop — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 23:58:35 +0000

I referred to this but forget to place a link. I’m sure you will find this invaluable.

==========================================

I’m behind on my comic strip, anything written for this website, my college class schedule is ridiculous because I made it with the intent that I would live nearby, which I have failed to achieve, my chosen major is not anything with practical applications, yet I struggle with it, and I still can’t legally drive a car. HOWEVER…

True success! I have now truly mastered the Dungeons of the Unforgiven! But didn’t I do that a few years ago? No, I had merely completed the game under actual adequate conditions. I decided getting through a game with draconian level up policies and roving gangs of hostile, invincible rubbish bins that deletes your save file if your character dies wasn’t difficult enough, so I generated a player character that was utterly insufficient for the mere task of surviving; using the “monk” character class. Monks are the absolute worst class (yes, even worse than amphibia).

While monks are popularly known for their ability to perform astounding feats of acrobatics and concentration and match traditional orange robes with brand name sneakers, Moraff monks proceed cautiously and are afraid of things that most players don’t even notice, leading me to suspect that Moraff based his version on the Tony Shaloub character.

In addition to not backup up my character data, I refrained from making use of the inter-module escape tunnels, and the

magical respawning level 0 garbage can which drops dead instantly when approached but often leaves helpful trinkets behind. As helpful as you’d expect from a sentient waste receptacle, anyhow. It returns to the exact spot of its vapourization moments later and can be murdered and plundered over and over again. Yes, so, I denied myself even this glorious privilege.

Monks get the least hit and spell points and will not carry rings of regeneration, essential survival items, for spiritual reasons.

Fortunately they have no such reservations about hauling huge heaps of Worthless Greater American Dollars around. They are the Yang Song of the dungeon, and designed to die.

Do you know how hard it is to have a leadership of 1? You get 5 just for successfully ordering french fries at… eh… say, where should I get my french fries?

I have taken Moraff’s toughest challenge and been victorious. But in a sense, it is also his greatest curse; in the past such a character would be killed quickly and I could go and do something else. In fact, it DID die, once, but so quickly that I thought a retry was in order.

The longer this ineffectual figure lives, the less I live. It cannot win, only persist. I have very much in common with Pudensis, the gender-confused (the first one was female, the second was male), rodent monk.

This is another view of the Demon Queen as seen by a taller person. I like it because it looks like a really bad postcard.

Getting through all this took me about a day’s worth of hours across half a week, but what would I have done instead? Read the Southern Connecticut State University course catalog? Registered for classes pertinent to my interests? Actually prepared for them? Clearly there were more pressing and educational matters to tend at (Such as framing my Morvard rejection letter). I am a pioneer in making bad games less interesting and more tedious than ever. My place in history is secured. I may do well to drop the classes I did sign up for and write a book about this experience.
The Moraff scholars among you might have noticed that I have only played to the end of the first dungeon in the game, and have not yet entered the subsequent easier identical modules. Well we all need something to look forward to in life!

Aw bees, I wish I’d thought of that!

It’s tragedy when you lose control and you got no soul

Frubaklop — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 03:57:23 +0000

June 17, threethousandnineteenthirtyfour:

Earth’s greatest hero, captivity enthusiast, thrice consecutively voted “Most likely to be stripped of clothing and sent to The Arena” and all-around white guy Flash Gordon is defeated by a backwards S (Roneldo’s whereabouts unknown). A truce was called when both sides realized they despised trousers. The kneeling fellow in the second frame is actually being executed for the sake of peace.

Annnnnnnnnnd evidently I have things to do.

I wish they invested these money into making really good products instead of making us unhappy after believing in their ads.

Frubaklop — Wed, 25 Aug 2010 04:21:17 +0000

Sunday, the twenty-ninth: It against my personal principles, but I am going to try and do something productive tomorrow.

===================================================

One thing that I think is neat about last.fm, the website which was the topic of this post before it got too long and stupid and I had to remove the actual informative information from it to keep the length reasonable, are these little biographies that show up when I listen to music that I’ve liked for years but never gave much thought to the creators of.

I learned, for example, that before he become a game music composer, back in his younger days as a consulting detective, Koichi Sugiyama developed some solid theories linking video to the death of the radio star.

Later in life he of course went on to be Barack Obama.

Aw ban, that guy has so many albums of the same corny Dragon Warrior tunes, because people buy them. He must be rolling in dough. I, meanwhile, often find myself rolling in dopes. Yes that’s the only reason I mentioned it.

Although now I have decided that also I object to dumb Healie playing drums. Healie is like a floating dope with no torso or nose. Dopes often forget to have arms, so this seems like the next [totally il]logical step.

This puts me in a tough position because healers also remind me of c3po, who is my personal hero in life despite being a robot and not actually alive and not actually existent, but I stand by my principles. Healie cannot stand by its own principles because it has neither principles nor legs to actually stand with.

I’m not here to do things Healie would like! My parties are swingin’ occasions and healie isn’t welcome at them.

Healie is also a traitor to its own kind. I can understand the overwhelming desire to hit healers, but this strikes me as psychologically worrisome. Ragnar’s an admirable figure and all, what with his declining to receive any special treatment and enlisting in the army despite his famous father Rygar’s many connections

(who himself overcame the adversity of not having a face), and daring to go on quests wearing bright pink armor and refusing to shave his purple mustache, but Healie tries too hard to gain favor, and quite pinkly I find it sickening.

Excuse me, Ragnar’s party obtained the gold? As I see it, there’ll be no divvying of this plunder at journey’s end ~~motel*.~~

^{*this was the name of some place I used to see from the highway when I went to visit my grandmother’s house. It was only there for a few years, no longer is, doesn’t seem to have been part of a chain and really there was nothing inherently funny about it, so my making reference to it is not at all fair, and talking about it in this way can only possibly bore you. This then causes me to giggle.}

Hey! I only put that thing in the front draw the attacks of other monsters, no doubt resentful of Healie waiving its right to not be slaughtered by them in search of selfish gain. That does not shift authority and naming rights! Ragnar, I suggest you find more trustworthy companions.

Well now you’ve done it: you’ve emboldened Healie to commit the ultimate treachery: transforming into a skeleton. A jogging skeleton. You know you’re an inefficient being when becoming a skeleton enhances your skills. That is, if you are competent enough to know things.

we needn’t encourage this sort of behavior!

Now I just feel inadequate. I am blue with envy. I would be green but thankfully I’m not yella.

Although for some people being yella is the least of their problems.

today i’m finally going to talk to my doctor about my overactive bladder

Frubaklop — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 20:55:56 +0000

Tuesduh, Augurst 24: I ~~made~~ was confronted with this for the thing I was writing and did not complete, but really, it’s just as inappropriate and upsetting wherever it shows up.

=================================================

Page 10 of that. Yep.

By 1960 hunkerin’ was less common.

Frubaklop — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 22:33:54 +0000

A moment of simons, please, for a beloved member of the bimshwel family

No, unfortunately.

Camera 3, akadaka the “good” digital camera, and its life partner, 2 gigabyte memory card of uncertain origin because it worked so well that I never needed to take it out and look it over and be reminded of those things, taken down six days into a fresh pair of batteries. Tragic, really.

As per the terms of its will or something, its remains were dropped to the deepest, least accessible point of the base of Sabbadoy Falls.

Appropriately enough, that’s precisely where it fell out of my pocket while I was pursuing my brother I-Clops up a foolish ascent because I hadn’t taken any pictures of him with it the whole week. I still haven’t, surprisingly.

Let’s relive some of the memories, shall we? (yes)

Fort Lauderdoodle, Florida. November 26, 2006

Litchfield, Connecticut. December 25, 2007

New York City, America. November 16, 2008

Mir Space Station, Space. February 19, 2010

Green Hill Zone, Michigan August 11, 2010

FinePix A500, whose name I only discovered by opening one of its pictures in Microsoft Notepad,
2006-2010

Farewell, fine fujifilm fellow. You will be replaced.

CAM-RA, the Everliving, continues to ever-live, taking moderately tiny, slightly blurry pictures it can only carry 36 of, by will of the wizard. It owes its astounding longevity to a diet high in buck choc and being too big to take some places and too inadequate for it to be worth bothering to take to such places. Not that it hasn’t tried; it runs away at least once a year. It never gets very far because I dropped it on a floor and broke its battery chamber six years ago. This additionally allows it to stay lost for extraordinary periods of time without anybody picking it up. It seemed like a mistake at the time.

It’s a friendship thing: get your friends to hunker with you. The man you don’t know is the man you haven’t hunkered with

Frubaklop — Wed, 04 Aug 2010 22:53:35 +0000

Wednesday August 11:
Hello. Are you still there? I’m still not!

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^carrots

Monday August 9:
I complain about lawn mowers a lot. I really can’t stand them. Every week, May to November, lawn mowers mowing lawns. There must be something we can do about this.

I appreciate them trying to address my issue, but I cannot approve of making a public spectacle of clown mowing. It seems rude. Nobody chooses to be a clown, after all.

================================================

Friday, August 6:
Hello. Evidently I will be going away for a week. No, not necessarily to jail, and you probably won’t notice.

===============================================
eep
————————————————————

WOW, you mean to tell me I can get all the channels that everybody gets for free for less than 20 dollars a month?!?!?

There’s probably more to this package than local affiliates, but Comcast ought to at least hint at that. I hate to think, as much as I know it is true, that it is more than sufficient to market your product exclusively at idiots to make good profits.

This is like Sirius satellite radio offering a “lite” option that allows me to pick up fm stations.

I remember when I passed through the New York City, back in Mayish, witnessing a billboard for a radio station proclaiming “COMMERCIAL FREE MONDAYS!”

WOW! I get to not hear ads or songs I hate EVER by not listening to FM radio! People have been buying personal music playing objects for nearly thirty years now and presumably collecting musical recordings to go along with that. Nobody who owns an ipod has any excuse to complain about commercial breaks on radio stations. You paid all that money for the blasted thing, so use it. “Commercial free” may not even be true. A company can sponsor a block of noise and just have said periodically “the drive at five is brought to you by BURGER KING.”

On that note, I think there is great potential in the field of fast food heads of state and positions of authority.*

Chicken Chancellor

Milkshake Shiekh

Hotdog Dowager

Pizza Princess

Castro Bistro

Burrito Baron

French Fry Pharaoh

Tater Dictator

Beef Caliph

Pancake Pope

Lady Nuggets

Teriyaki Triumvirate

Taco Taliban

Rib Hitler

Pork Warlord

Kupcake Kaiser

Cinnamon Roll Ayatollah

Gang of Four Hoagies and More

Now I’m hungry.

Now I’m not.

*List separated with colors to make it easier to read and because I didn’t realize how awful it looked until I’d already inserted 50 little font codes, not because ten years ago I built a time machine.

The main purpose of hunkerin’ is to get down and hunker together.

Frubaklop — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 06:28:52 +0000

Is that a hastily assembled content divider or is there a ghost writing this website now?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

page 40 of this. could it be? More space trouble? (yes) This has been up for a few days but I kept forgetting to say so. And eventually I stopped doing that.

Show me a comic that changes styles more often… well often’s not the proper word since I don’t update often, but show me a comic that changes styles more times within a short span of strips and I probably won’t look at it because I’m too jealous and egotistical to read anyone else’s comics unless I think they like mine first. Why did I even bring this up?

I brightened the character colors and restrained myself from overshading with the pen, but this still didn’t get done very fast. Also, I never liked the way the last page looked until I saw it above this one. However, hey nobody fell down on this page. No “people,” anyhow, assuming these degenerates count as that, which I actually don’t.

Time reported that the craze started at the University of Arkansas when a shortage of chairs at a fraternity house led students to imitate their Ozark forefathers, who hunkered regularly.[2]

Frubaklop — Tue, 27 Jul 2010 02:18:10 +0000

Hey That Daily Show is back from a two week hiatus! And with it a fresh shipment of message board creepism arrives! This is actually pretty nasty, but so is the entry I’m appending this to.

Is it “irony?” Do I care?

Additionally, apparently this is the original article that was controversial. In that case I have no idea why I came across that other one and thought it was what I thought it was –this is even linked from within the other– but apart from that I don’t think anything I said before is less valid than it was, presuming any of that was valid. I wrote it all but didn’t feel like reading it.
It is somewhat less about Olivia Munn and even mentions Miriam Tolan, who was last seen apologizing for not being on the show and then never was again but supposedly married Frankenstein at some point.

=======================================================================

I didn’t think all the words in this were boring enough so I also included numerous pictures of words.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

If there’s sexism at the Daily Show, most of it’s on the website and written by people who aren’t actually employed by it. Cartoon sleaziness is still the first instinct for men on the internet.

I first heard of these startling accusations when Stephen Colbert mentioned on his show that I “probably already heard.” So maybe you have, also and I needn’t mention it. I wish you’d told me that before I mentioned it. The article accuses the show of discrimination for hiring a lady named Olivia Munn who didn’t come across while on the air as terribly humorous to the writer so there must be some deeper motive. Another moderately recent addition Josh Gad was also less than impressive to complainy viewers despite being a man and fat. I suspect there the explanation is that the show merely deliberately auditioned and hired a non-funny person just to annoy us. I don’t see how this is a huge problem; I remember when Stacey Grenrock joined the show. Because I’m really really old. People hated the first 20 or so reports she did. By the last two, though, she seemed to be getting it.

It ultimately didn’t make a difference. Don’t worry, these both go out of their way to mention that Samantha Bee is less visually appealing to them, and she wasn’t even pregnant then!

We’re getting off-topic, though, I think. From the thing I linked at:

I can’t take seriously any quest for decency or social equality which makes use of the terminology “but-thurt.” I’d rather not attempt to track down its etymology by typing it [anywhere] but at worst it’s mildly anti-gay and at best I just think it’s ugly. I also can’t seriously take the phrase “we geeks,” and while that might be construed as some sort of discrimination on my own part, I am at least aware of this and not lazily tossing around language I picked up on the 4^thchan and calling myself a “big think”er.

Munn, whom I had not heard of, was apparently famous despite my not having heard of her on the Cops Channel for being the sort of person who is hired by the Cops Channel, prior to being on the Jeff Dunham Channel. While there definitely continues to be huge potential for any non-male whom pictures exist of (or even somebody of ambiguous gender who merely draws pictures of ladies) to develop a fanbase merely by not being repulsed by the sleazy men who compose a majority of vocal audiences, my first thoughts were of these very oafs themselves. The article laments Munn’s lack of legitimate comedic ability but I don’t reckon most of the viewers have noticed.

This one isn’t any worse than what other late night hosts do in the actual presence of ladies, but I don’t like it when they do that either.

To be fair, the vague, John-Doey default avatars make just about anything seem unsettling. Why is this presumed to be better than no avatar at all?

The Facebook icon explains this, though it stops short of excusing anything.

Whoa there Nunly. There’s only room for one verbose idiot on this page and unfortunately for you it’s the one who controls the crop tool. What’s odd is that Scott here seems to agree with the linked article despite entirely missing its point.

Well I’m glad you said it nicely. Cacofraginstaple, Confederated Creeps of the Covered Keyboard, is it truly so hard for you to locate video of skinny ladies accompanied by open comment fields online? I assure you you’ll find most of them just as unfunny.

Well that’s certainly-

Oh how about th-

This site entry has to end now.

Human beings-turned goats story a hoax –Police

Frubaklop — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 22:52:32 +0000

ehhh

As you may be aware, I traveled Out West two months ago. I purchased sunglasses specially for the occasion. At a CVS.

I also purchased an x-treme toothbrush.

At the sun glass spinny display object were mirrored surfaces to observe the sight of one’s self wearing the sun-spectacles. However, since people are vain idiots or presumed to be vain idiots, the mirrors are “slimming” and thus I could not find a set of glass that did not make my head look narrow and there’s a certain width that I expect sunglasses to cover and these now were only as wide as my narrow head. I had to take all the candidates over to the makeup counter mirror and test them there (makeup counter not shown because somebody dared me to not take a picture of it and also because the Stop & Shop I actually took the last picture at didn’t have a makeup counter). I tried many options. While all this was going on the people passing around me probably wondered why I was so conceited to need the big mirror, and if I was so concerned about my appearance why I was wearing sweatpants.
I was wearing sweatpants because I had just taken all of my decent clothes to be washed at the world’s scariest laundromat.

Excuse me, I meant

When did we get to Arkansas?

However, now I cannot locate my sunglasses.

What do YOU want? Not my sweatpants, evidently. Even though I have lots of pants but only one set of sunglasses. Well I DID but now I have NONE and this monster thinks it’s entitled to smile at me on such an occasion or ever?

Nemitz… why does it live? Nemitz = MAXIMUM SCUMBAG. This summer Nemitz IS Captain Crumbum. nemitz, you have big trouble coming your way in the form of me coming your way.

Nemitz is a hobo. Nemitz is a bozo. Nemitz is a yo-yo. Nemitz is the logo for “oh no.” Nemitz should GO the way of the dodo. Nemitz’s academic scores are so-so. Nemitz has similar views on ethics as Hojo from Final Fantasy 7. Hojo is also the only hotel nemitz will stay at which makes travel arrangements difficult since most of those went out of business.

Deservedly so, though.

How ever did nemitz become such a scumbag? I do not understand how that happened. That thing should know enough to NOT be nemitz. Nemitz is an incorrigible, indefensible scoundrel. There is NO EXCUSE for IT doing what IT does. I refuse to corrige such things. I cannot stand idly by while nemitz is tolerated. In fact, nemitz has consistently ranked in the top ten scoundrel index since I first invented the index a moment ago.

I previously thought nemitz had gotten happy by thinking about itself being happy. But it is also possible that it was sad until it realized I could see it. Neither of these are good situations. NEMITZ. I need it gone! I need that outta here.

I heard nemitz stole a Volvo. Nemitz’s favorite songs are Kokomo, Row Row Row Your Boat and anything by Bono*. I wonder if elpse realizes that nemitz’s favorite Double Dragon character is Abobo. Nemitz has rigged elections in Togo. Nemitz is a variety bucket of things that sound like “hobo.”

I want to hire nemitz just so i can fire it. It should go to jail forever and become a burden of the tax-payers. See how long they put up with that.
Urf. Nemitz. I’ll put that thing on a conveyor belt and keep punching it back as it comes forward. I’ll throw a tenement at nemitz. I’ll throw 700 tennis balls and a Tengen cartridge at nemitz.

Nemitz doesn’t realize Duck Maze was not made by Tengen. Of course I’ll probably discover that nemitz likes ducks and mazes, anyhow.

However, only the mouse shall escape!

NO ONE ESCAPES.

_{*Bono of the U2 band and not Sonny Bono because Nemitz deliberately mispronounces things to irritate people which is of course a no-no}

Here comes Swiffer Sweeper

Frubaklop — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 04:19:20 +0000

Your not realizing you require con doms until reaching this petroleum station frequented by

gutless thieves outside Pitt’s Burgh may be an indication you have not been contemplating this issue for long enough. Although if the alternative is you suddenly participating in a pregnancy, please do disregard my comments. I’m curious as to why you sought out my approval on this topic at all, quite honestly.

You know I’m all business!

Yes I know this is a short entry. I’ve been having problems lately.

‘ey, gimme a break!

Forget it! I’ve seen what grows from that stuff! Those worms are as good as dead!

I told you I had problems!

The Divisional Police Officer, Isaac Ogbogbo, a Chief Superintendent of Police, brought his experience to bear in controlling the crowd that was desperate to see the goats.

Frubaklop — Tue, 13 Jul 2010 01:55:22 +0000

seriously I thought that said “July 14″ the last time I looked, which would make a July 20 update mildly punctual in my mind. What have I been doing all this time?

================================

Mxy’s famous Bizarre Webcomic now has a proper website! It is at last possible to start at the beginning rather than press “previous 10″ 97 times on the livejournal page (or just press it 47 times to find the cbz of the first 400 strips) This is a good thing, I think. Well it might be bad if you were reserving your judgment of it until you could see it from the beginning, asserting that the only reason you didn’t like it was because it didn’t make sense to you, certain that it would make sense if you could do that. Howdy, I never learned how to give compliments. I do like that comic strip, though.

Hey, hey! Calm down! You need more excitement in your life if people on the internet typing about stuff excites you. you should strive to be more like this delightful chap you evidently share a computer with

who is much more reserved and merely suffers from advertisement tourette syndrome. I think you two might get along, though, since you both seem to write post script in the same foreign language.

Do you think this place is really selling mattresses for one dollar? Or maybe just that specific photograph of a mattress used on the sign is for sale? No no, I definitely see a mattress propped against the glass, there. So if it was for sale for a dollar, do you reckon it would be a mattress at all worth having? Anybody selling a mattress that cheap is one step removed from deliberately disposing of it. In fact, this is easier because YOU take it, and then it’s YOUR problem, and you even paid for the privilege. There’s probably a dead body stuffed inside it. My operative in the field, the famed botanist Vance May informs me this location once housed a most Primo Pizza. Your business is really in the proverbial dumpster if a joint that sells mattresses for one dollar, asterisk or otherwise is not only turning a better profit than you but this is enough so that it can force you out. This is the NEW Dollar Haven. There’s another one of these somewhere. They are branching out. Soon they will be ever. First our primo pizzas, next it will be our perfect parties and our feminine barns of dresses. What can we use to combat this mattresss-marking down menace?

99 CENT POWER! Do you feel it? Do you feel it?!?!

This is so much power I’m not even going to risk getting the other senses involved. Requests to smell one’s power won’t likely get favorable results, I reckon. I prefer not to hear my power, also, because that generally means I’m almost out of hearts.

We can only ignore this problem for so long

yet I don’t want to have to stock up again so soon because I still have plenty of rubber spiders and confused computer ladies in undersized clothing left and I don’t get the discount unless I buy them all together. Dilemmas!

I thought you would sympathize with my cheapness!

Some mysterious person requested names of video games I stole pictures out of, and so this time they were Star Tropics and Corn Buster and you should play neither. I don’t know who the blue suit guy with the A on his mask is.

Slow down for work zones OR YOU COULD BE IN TROUBLE! DOUBLE TROUBLE!

Frubaklop — Tue, 06 Jul 2010 23:38:52 +0000

everything I want to talk about today insists on transitioning into another topic which I do NOT want to talk about, and yet I hate to waste a decent transition.

===============================================================

Generally, i am not scared of BEARS.

That’s generally, and not for my life.

Unless, however, they wear forest ranger hats, denim pants and no shirts. And also carry a shovel around. A bear may not be able to follow you up a tree, but one with a shovel can certainly swat at you. Or maybe dig up the ground around the tree so you can’t get down without injuring yourself. Why does cb radio jargon ~~in that MAD magazine article from the 1970s that I read in a reprint once~~ refer to the police collectively as “smokey?” Because of that frightful bear who wears the same hat. The scary police who wear brown clothing instead of blue. Is that the natural color or do they just roll around in dirt to make their clothes look more brown and rugged? I always associated that bear with the West and having your car break down on a desolate road in some horrid place and having a sheriffey fellow drive up alongside you and say “you’re not from AROUND here, are ya, son.” Not even a question! Somehow it’s an order, despite no command being issued, and you will be punished for disobeying the non-command. “You’re a LONG way from conneddiggit, BOY.”

Smokey’s not like the cartoon all stars or the ninja turduckens or Kirk Cameron*, who will plead with you to not use drugs and tell you about some fictitious abusers who had hard times. Smokey will point right at YOU and tell YOU to cut it out, lest he maim you with mining equipment. Smokey is scary and he knows it. HE’S not going to prevent forest fires, but he’s going to make you wish you had. Smokey doesn’t beat around the bush; he beats you into the ground for lighting up near a bush. Or maybe he’ll just eat you and use the shovel to dig a ceremonial grave for any bones he doesn’t fancy swallowing. There was an ad recently in which some dirtbag is smoking a cigarette and someone else TRANSFORMS INTO SMOKEY and starts leering at the smoker. Sure, this is because of the FIRE risk of DISCARDING a cigarette carelessly, but it would not be a hard transition to make for Smokey to just hate smokers in general. They’re getting a little too close to his name. Only YOU can prevent Smokey’s lunch.

I have to get a painting painted and framed by Friday. How did that have time to happen?

I like this Smokey from 1944, the year he was introduced. This one has big eyes and big ears, is putting out a fire himself and seems to almost be smiling. I’m not afraid of this one and thus he is not effective and was rightfully phased out in favor of

this wrathful oaf by the time I was paying attention. Forty years of people continuing to start fires anyway will do that to you.

To be fair, however, the same group was using Krauts and Japs to scare childrens around the same time and probably figured bringing in an angry forest beast might be excessive. Or worse, encourage kids to start more fires to burn the brutes alive. Kids these days lack the initiative to start a fire out of spite for a cartoon bear, much less go to a forest for any reason. They’ll drive to your house and murder you for talking trash about them specifically on facebook, but bears are safe.

I stole these off of the slow loading Smokey ~~the~~ Bear website, and I give it credit for not pretending they didn’t stereotype America’s enemies back when that was kewl. However, I’m still not linking directly to it because apparently Smokey is copyrighted and the only thing worse than setting his home on fire is cutting him off from his royalties. It’s been over fifty years by now and Smokey still hasn’t made enough money to retire.

*Kirk Cameron once starred in a drug awareness video which featured Kirk showing kids in a class room other videos of other kids turning into cartoon characters when threatened by drugs in some sort of parody or SLAM to the other drug videos but it didn’t really work because the “real” examples were considerably less entertaining and not a whole lot more plausible; those kids just said “no way man, you jerks aren’t COOL.” and that was the end of their troubles. True enough; nobody’s going to chase you down and MAKE you eat drugs for biting your thumb at them; that stuff’s expensive. They’ll probably just murder you and call it even. Additionally, In order to gain access to the kids he imposes his videos upon, Kirk outwits and outmaneuvers a bumbling hall monitor who for reasons that aren’t stated but I can fully understand does not want Kirk Cameron in that classroom. That doesn’t put us in the right frame of mind to compare fiction to fictitious reality. You might as well have brought Moraff in there.

Also, based on the online appearance of and reactions to the “nobody turns down drugs” scene from the video within the video, nobody also turns down realizing or caring that this part is supposed to be ridiculous. This clip, incidootily, was blatantly ripped out of another youtube video featuring brief strange clips from uncited sources, in which context it could be argued, due to its presence not being announced (6 minutes, 13 seconds in), this weirdness is far more effective (apart from the annoying “static” transitions, but that’s irrelevant because the person who reripped out the drug clip didn’t bother to omit the annoying fake 1970s static).

I’d like to tell you what the film is called but I forgot approximately the moment I learned it back in 1995 (and I had to watch it twice!), and Mr. Cameron may have since lobbied to have it removed from his filmo graphy. He’d much rather be known for classics like Firepoof, featuring a wicked computer screen that creates pornography to tear a marriage apart so that nothing less than Chick Fila product placement can heal the wounds.

And here, because I love to end on a depressing note, I shall mention the link currently in the upper right corner from the first clip I linked to.

Nobody turns down drugs, and nobody turns down REAL-TIME SUICIDE, either, judging by that view count. You know, that title isn’t enough! We’d better write this on the actual video in IMPACT, the world’s least sympathetic font.
I assume this is some gimmick to get people to click on a video which does not actually depict a suicide occurring. It potentially even scolds people for daring to look at it. However, the idea that the promise of video of suicide, real or not, gets one million people to watch it does not give me comfort. Even if some outrage group linked to it with “this is disgusting and should be banned but watch it anyway” that wouldn’t likely account for more than a few thousand additional views. Somebody influential has FEATURED this.

Whatever’s in the video, the real tragedy is that anybody takes this guy’s recommendation for anything.

Aye yi.

Cornell uses the man wolf’s acute sense of smell… to track the scent… of his sister’s blood.

Frubaklop — Tue, 29 Jun 2010 21:53:53 +0000

The internet hates the humidity. Once the temperature here goes over 80 degrees my connection passes out from exhaustion, which is a surprising impediment to my ability to upload junk here.

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I don’t need Mac Tonight watching me use the toilet. Nor most people, now that I think of it.

In search of a good fake-mistaken reference for pink hands (I went with “demons”), I thought for certain, –because superheroes are inherently funny and everybody but me knows stuff about them who would thus be in position to appreciate such a mentioning– there was a DC or Marvel character who had pink gloves that I might use. Not because I remember there being one; it just seemed like there was a good chance. I didn’t find one. Not one I could pick out of a crowd, anyhow. I did come across this picture (from this page this page.) There are a LOT of weird looking goofs I don’t recognize in there, and there’s no sense in asking about them all. However…

who’s that oaf next to Wonder Woman that isn’t Superman? MAILMAN? Or is he a train ticket collector, maybe? He does an important job but he’s not a hero of intergalactic acclaim! In fact, he’s a monster for plundering and combining the DNA of Herve Villechaiz and Gary Coleman in an attempt to create an ultimate being. It’s still too soon, Mail Man! Not to mention likely to make your Jim Morrison/any actor from the 1970s clone jealous. Additionally, I used to think Jim Morrison, Van Morrison and Morrissey were the same person. They are all exhibit equally morris-like tendencies in my eyes. I would not be surprised to see them shilling for cat food.

I am also of the opinion that Plastic Man is getting a little chummy with Darkseid and Orko back there.

Oh, OH. ExcYUSE me. Are you two friends? Man, that guy’s so touchy just because the doctor who filled out his birth certificate came down with a bit of dyslexia. That’s even weaker reasoning than

Lex Luthor hating Superman forever over inadvertently making him bald –a condition easily remedied by either of these two who regularly create exact robot duplicates of themselves out of stuff they just find lying around, sometimes while in prison,– which I’m told was largely written/fired out of “canon” not terribly wrong after this story was published. Darkseid’s name is STILL misspelled, so many years later. Whenever I see his name I always think it wants to be pronounced “dark seed.” Clearly he can’t be all that evil since he keeps his bit torrent ratio up. At worst he’s a pointy 1970s roller skate.

And… I expect to be at a hotel before I get this posted so don’t be surprised if I end this without any sort of conclusion.

Hey how about that I ended up staying at the hotel before I got this out because my computer is too dumb to recognize certain types of wireless internet and I’m too dumb to know which or why and thus I now have plenty of time to give you a conclusion.

I do not always make good use of my time.

But sometimes I do.

They don’t give a damn! about any trumpet playing band.

Frubaklop — Thu, 24 Jun 2010 23:28:20 +0000

I gave people cards with this site url on it. I wonder how many who actually attempted to type it out got this far on the page.

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I remember, long ago, at the ripe old age of seven years my grandplum said to me “huplix (grandplum always called me huplix)” “Huplix,” Grandplum repeated, quite redundantly I must say, “don’t say anything! I’m talking! And Huplix, it’s about time you learned to eat an Oreo.” Grandplum so set off for the vault to fetch the ancestral family oreo, when the house candle-stick-maker rushed in saying “Huplix! there’s a telegram for you! I left it outside by the lampshade. Go get it.” I did so and fetched the telegram. It was from my long lost potato, Turnip. The note read, in part: IT TIME WE SETTLED OLD GRIEVANCE STOP HUPLIX (everyone called me Huplix, actually) PAUSE I CALL YOU OUT STOP IAPOSTROPHELL SEE YOU ON THE RICKI LAKE SHOW THIS SATURDAY STOP. I immediately boarded a automobile for the Ricki Lake Show. When I arrived I only found an elaborate cone of rubble, overgrown with colorful vegetation. I searched through the plants, finding several rupees and a piece of heart but no Turnip. That was when I remembered: this was the old Ricki Lake Show. It burned down twenty years ago. The new one was across town. I quickly crossed town but discovered I was too late. Turnip had dueled without me, picking fights with several random civilians who quickly beat turnip to a fine mash mass. It was the saddest day of my life.

Simply add a colorful plume of your choice (not included) and you will be the talk of the kings’ court.

Frubaklop — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 20:15:27 +0000

Hello. Today is Thursday. I am at a Hotel. I have internet and I have my computer, but not at the same time.

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another week so soon? I am making an attempt to update this for wednesday, so you can likely guess how that will go.

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Sadly, these little inexplicable smiley face things being sold yet more inexplicably in the frozen food section of Stop & Shop no longer adequately convey my emotions…

Join me as I pause and pay homage to our fallen friend, master meatsmith and former muppet sympathizer, Jimmy Dean. Our breakfast bowls become breakfast bawls.

What do you… I said DEAN. Beans are still around.

Dean, best known to members of my supposed generation for his inadvertent mention in Ma Donna’s 1990 song Vogue, which actually referred to actor James Dean, will probably continue to be known for that anyhow.

These sausages escaped from their enclosure to begin the long hard pilgrimage to

the internet so they could look at the official Jimmy Dean Brand website, only to find it either unaware or unconcerned that its namesake is dead, because he was actually pushed out of his spokesing duties which were his last personal ties to the company six years ago, ostensibly for being too old.

This guy exudes youthful appeal, though. He’s like the Nabisco Snack Fairy without the dignity or product with the nutritional credibility of Oreo Cakesters.

He’s such hot stuff that the website’s temperature management department is overworked and has to pay visitors to take up the palm frond-waving for a minute or two. Which sounds ridiculous but it’s slightly more plausible than bribing people such a pitiful amount to pretend to be your devoted follower on the internet. Not plausible at all: paying somebody to design a costume that’s not deliberately lazy-looking. The only thing more appealing than low budget ingenuity is high budget low budget imitation. Much time and effort was devoted to making this look like so little time and effort was involved. “Hey guys I should probably take my watch off for this, right? No? Because the SUN probably doesn’t… oh okay. I mean I’m just saying, because it’s actually the very thing we tell time by- alright, forget it! mumblerhubarbjusttryingtohelpmurph”

Appearing in the notorious MC Rove sketch was Colin Mochrie’s penance for this. Or maybe it was for those weird flash cartoons. Or maybe I’m the only person who doesn’t find instant emasculatory hilarity in frumpy men wearing pink skirts and so need not waste effort complaining about an obsolete advertisement series which I don’t actually think about all that much nor bear lasting resentment toward the actor for appearing in. I will say that nobody frolics into my mind as having the potential to be less intolerable in this role than this person. He surely did me a favor by not letting Greg Proops or French Stewart get the job.

For all new customers know, “Jimmy Dean” is the name of the product itself and/or the source of its meat, and given Mr. Dean’s current physical state that would almost be plausible if not for the general absence of legitimate meat matter in most frozen food. Consider that the Breakfast Bowl(s) is apparently ripping off a Kentucky Fried Chicken gimmick, –right down to the forced pluralization in the product name– a thing noted for its perceived* low quality, and also that ripoffs typically are less meritorious than that which they ripped, and that 90+ percent of the people who buy this will opt to heat it in a microwave oven without so much as considering less sog-like alternatives. I already considered it so I figured I’d inflict that thought upon you as well. For Krimpet’s sake it’s a plastic bowl in a box. Plastic bowls are for takeout food, maybe for putting chips in at a barbecue. I’m expected to provide my own fork, right? The one on the box is clearly made of a shiny metal. If I’m eating in my house I have real bowls I can use, too.

*granted, all these perceptions are my own and they are as close as I have come to actually eating the things I am talking so much bowl-filler about. The thing I’m using to support my unverified claim is just another unverified claim of mine. I additionally ought to disclose that I am fairly fond of Stouffer’s stuffed peppers, which also come in a sealed plastic bowl in a box in a freezer. However, the bowl is not given top billing.

And this! Hello again. If ‘the morning fade’ was a real thing that you didn’t make up, you wouldn’t have been able to trade-mark it, O Deanco. It sounds more like a mysterious ultimate villainous entity or invading force from some bad fantasy movie, particularly when you order me to fight it with a special enchanted apparatus named after a former legendary hero. Young traveler, as the one chosen by the ~~Snack Fairy~~ Sun Pixie only you can take up the Sausage of Jimmy Dean and venture forth through the lands of Hangover to do battle with The Morning Fade! Meanwhile, “choose your breakfast” seems like a threat somehow. I’ve been challenged and in the typical insincere show of gentlemanly decency by one who intends to see another done in this is meant to be my last choice in life. This town ain’t big enough for the both of us, son. Choose yer breakfast. It won’t do ya a lick a good, pardner. My pancake-wrapped-sausage on a stick sez you die at sundown. And if you eat it you’ll die sooner.

Why eat right when there are so many other directions to choose from?

What’s it like to be a marmoset, living in a tree, very far from me?

Frubaklop — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 01:32:44 +0000

I have one of many headaches. I am going to sleep.

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page 9 (scroll down!) of that. I’m always looking for a way to speed things up. I’m always failing, to, too. It won’t be necessary to remind me never to try this way again because I’ll remember.

No, actually, I just remembered that I’ll forget. I should have reminded you to remind me sooner.

Also, I realized I ought to have made a better/any plan for this whole “remake” business and rearranged events so that no memory scenes were necessary, because they’re awkward and unprofessional. However, I do not believe that I did. That is to say, you can be sure that when I make them they will be awkward and unprofessional. I like to think this way is less jarring than the old way, but I also like to think I’m less likely to get hearteriosclerosis because I eat boring and chewy Kashi cerealdirt instead of corn flakes like I used to even though I still eat just as many hot clogs. As for lope(the lizard)’s ridiculous automobile, it’s in just one frame here so there’s still time to not get around to redesigning it into a more visually appealing and practical-looking thing whose drawing process is in any way logical.

After a hilarious sleepover, a visit to a zoo rainforest exhibit, and Norman’s attempts to teach Fluffy karate, the three plants team up to foil some bad guys.

Frubaklop — Thu, 03 Jun 2010 05:59:25 +0000

Evidently I was not done wednessing and missed my imaginary deadline again. Neither of us was surprised.

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Wednesday: I did so much wednessing yesterday that I had no time to update this website. If only I’d known it was just Tuesday then. Whoopth.

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Do you remember when I said I am one of the most boring people in the world? No, of course not; it was so boring it could not possibly be remembered.

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After overwhelming public demand, which I ignored, here is my own incest story:

Once upon a time Hansel and Gretel lived together in a house in the forest. The end.

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Treat a child as though he’s already the person he’s capable of becoming. I thought, that makes sense. I wish more parents and producers of fictional and/or ostensibly educational media would acquire such an attitude. Stop condescending to your target audience’s basest comprehension and maybe they won’t insist on eating fruit snacks named after their favorite brand of farm machinery. Show them some respect.

However…

I don’t think the proper place for this message is the inside of a public restroom. Nor the outside, for that matter. “You may only be twelve years old, but yer a MAN to ME.”

And so I propose we train our children to become killing machines.

I wasn’t intimidated until you clenched your fists.

Thankfully there is an entire section in some stores devoted to the purpose. America must be the greatest country in the world to have invented the plastic helmet aisle. The only thing stealthier than a ninja is a shiny one that clunks a lot. The plastic helmet and assorted armaments aisle, ah yes. Unlike normal munitions, which have a history of exploding when fired upon themselves, these just deform and produce toxic fumes. So they’re safe. And they’re discreet about it. Apart from being brightly colored and shiny and clunkity, I mean.

I had been under the impression that one of the factors in the effectiveness of terminators was that nobody could tell they were murderous cyborgs, because they disguised themselves as humans, but realistically, I suppose when you’re a nigh indestructible machination of death it doesn’t much matter how well you conceal yourself among the puny frail beings it is your goal to eliminate. A human disguised as a cyborg makes a lot more sense.

Incidentally, despite nearly eight years of more or less regular updates I still apparently type things, “cut” them to paste elsewhere and then forget to do that, but not to ’save’ the document I cut them out from. In this case of jokes about predators-of-children, however, it may merely have been an intervention by the decency fairy. However, it’s not an effective defense, because I sometimes remember what I wrote the first time, and in any event I’m getting this stuff from all sides:

Well I’m certainly not going to PAY you for my FREE incest pics, regardless of how mature and responsible they are. I’m also not interested in incest content that does not depict interfamiliar dealings. It seems wrong somehow.

At LAST, the sequel to

As usual, George Lucas makes us wait and doesn’t give us quite what we expected.

Also, as long as you’re here, with all this confusion about, don’t forget to wash the hand part of your hand.

(Blue plastic arrows appear courtesy of the Fisher Price acupuncture kit) We’ve seen the sort of visitors this area attracts. I really think the maintainers of the facility could stand to discriminate against demons, though.

Go on, gyit. Don’t give me that face. You know you’re not supposed to be here. You’re not washing off that glowy green stuff in MY sink.

The experience was short lived as the players dropped off their luggage and headed back to the bus for practice at the HP Pavilion – just in time to hold the door open for a duck.

Frubaklop — Fri, 28 May 2010 19:59:39 +0000

Wednesday: I forgot this was here again.

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Hey ham, this here is the first part of the First Beet of the Year the flash cartoon. It’s better than my other two flashy attempts but I suspect the more I say about it the less impressive it will seem.

I didn’t make one of those “loading” timers because I forgot to and I’m tired of this thing, and most people have broadband internet these days, I’m told, anyhow. If you don’t, I suppose you should wait a minute or so after pressing the link it before starting it.

In four years I haven’t been able to improve the singing too much, sadly. Everyone in the cast should be fired. And then I realized that they were all me and that I’d still need one around to upload the thing, and if I could fire them that would mean they were employed and I’d probably need to pay them.

The reference to “bimshwel.com” may seem totally unnecessary, given that I’m there now posting this and that there is not another similar thing at this location which an interested party could look up, but you know what, you’re no fun. I long ago had delusions of viral supremacy, for which such identifiers would be helpful, but now I’m merely so old that think I might forget my own email address.

I can’t even make the link work, since, to its credit I suppose, the most recent Adope Flash players don’t allow url links in the things unless the user specifically allows them.

However, it informs user of this in such a sinister way that anyone would think I’d embedded plague in the bimpy thing somehow and I don’t need people thinking I did that any more than they themselves require plague. Also, clicking on “settings,” rather than opening up an actual “settings” menu, just sent me, ever the curious traveler, to the adobe website, which had even more broken flash junk on it that I would need to personally tell noscript, a totally different thing, not to block. And then I’d have to restart my internet machine, find the stupid video again, and then press the link in it again, which I can’t imagine a single person doing. Even less than I can imagine somebody clicking on it the first time. Boy, howdy.

How are you today?

Oh, mother dear, we greatly fear our mittens we have soiled.

Frubaklop — Sun, 23 May 2010 16:19:07 +0000

page 39 (scroll down!) of this. The physics of the technique on display here don’t check out at all, but it was funny in my mind.
I’m still trying to figure this “ink” thing out. Likewise, I’m still not doing that. It’s getting more elaborate, but not any faster, clearer or easier. In fact, this actually looks worse with the way I color stuff than immediately after I scan it [four times, once from each corner and then reassemble the pieces]. Whoopth.
Also, the time has been two years since I last drew Rabivmip, (if we don’t include that one frame with the people running through the hall way, since I forgot about it) even though that was only 19 pages ago. What is wrong with me? The answer: something is wrong with me. I’m trying to be more outgoing and affable, so what’s wrong with you?

Ehhh

Grateful to the Chipettes, the penguins snowball the henchmen into submission as the girls escape.

The wall refuses to move

It’s tragedy when you lose control and you got no soul

I wish they invested these money into making really good products instead of making us unhappy after believing in their ads.

today i’m finally going to talk to my doctor about my overactive bladder

By 1960 hunkerin’ was less common.

It’s a friendship thing: get your friends to hunker with you. The man you don’t know is the man you haven’t hunkered with

The main purpose of hunkerin’ is to get down and hunker together.

Time reported that the craze started at the University of Arkansas when a shortage of chairs at a fraternity house led students to imitate their Ozark forefathers, who hunkered regularly.[2]

Human beings-turned goats story a hoax –Police

Here comes Swiffer Sweeper

The Divisional Police Officer, Isaac Ogbogbo, a Chief Superintendent of Police, brought his experience to bear in controlling the crowd that was desperate to see the goats.

Slow down for work zones OR YOU COULD BE IN TROUBLE! *DOUBLE* TROUBLE!

Cornell uses the man wolf’s acute sense of smell… to track the scent… of his sister’s blood.

They don’t give a damn! about any trumpet playing band.

Simply add a colorful plume of your choice (not included) and you will be the talk of the kings’ court.

What’s it like to be a marmoset, living in a tree, very far from me?

After a hilarious sleepover, a visit to a zoo rainforest exhibit, and Norman’s attempts to teach Fluffy karate, the three plants team up to foil some bad guys.

The experience was short lived as the players dropped off their luggage and headed back to the bus for practice at the HP Pavilion – just in time to hold the door open for a duck.

Oh, mother dear, we greatly fear our mittens we have soiled.

Slow down for work zones OR YOU COULD BE IN TROUBLE! DOUBLE TROUBLE!