I don’t know, it’s something about the way she looks like she kind of hates me, right? Look at her, just putting up with me, quietly wishing for a different life. Awww, she’s so cute with her hopes and dreams of something better.
The following is a genuine recounting of a part of the Norse Mythology. There exists a poem called Lokasenna in which Loki (you know, the super sexy Tom Hiddleston from the Marvel franchise one) is hanging out and having a few drinks with some of the Æsir (gods), but is kicked out after inexplicably murdering a waiter that they were all being really nice to. After a little time away, presumably stewing in anger, Loki returned to throw down the gauntlet and show the gods some serious smack talk. All I can say is god damn, this would have livened up The Avengers movie.
What follows is a genuine account of the resulting quarrel.
Because apparently this shop keeper thought that a window display depicting a gallows gallery of hanging teddy bears would be an appropriate way to advertise her stock. P.S. I know. The title. I’m sorry. If you can think of a better teddy bear / genocide pun or portmanteau, please leave a comment!
A man walks into a Doctor’s office. These never end well, do they?
Here’s a very quick (and totally true) story about pirates (you guys know that I have a huge obsessions with pirates, right?), or, to be more precise, a story about one pirate in particular. It’s a super dumb story, and you’re going to love it.
A short transcript of a conversation follows, wherein elusive billionaire Bruce Wayne takes an attractive, young lady to his bedroom.
Girl: Mister Wayne. How about we get these constricting clothes off.
Bruce: I was just about to suggest the same thing, young lady.
Girl: Oh, Mister Wayne, what a fine… wa – wait…
Girl: All those… scars. What the fuck?
Bruce: Oh, it’s just…
Girl: What the fuck!?
Bruce: I play polo, that’s all. It’s ra-
Girl: Jesus, fucking Jesus!
Bruce: -rather a dangerous sport. That’s all, don’t worry. Now, where were we…
Girl: Woah, woah. Polo? I’m not an idiot. I’m not a – a – a fucking idiot! Oh, god… you…
Bruce: I… what?
Girl: Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re the fucking Batman, aren’t you.
There are a lot of reasons why I should hate them, I’ll be honest. Like their neighbours in the land of rock-that-clearly-isn’t-actually-rock music, Coldplay, the Chili Peppers are one of those bands so devoid of personality, that it takes a not-unsubstantial portion of my energy just to hear someone say their name. It’s one of those easy-answer ‘favourite bands’ that are loved by people who aren’t so much fans of the music, but rather just fans of not having to sit in terrifying silence. The spider-feet guitar sounds mixed with the odd clunking bass and the nasal dross that makes up the vocals all congeal into a thick grey paste of oozing weariness that… I’ve just remembered that this wasn’t what this post was supposed to be about. Continue reading