Whap!  Welcome.

There are people out there that hate me. Maybe because I make fun of them, use to many bad words, or have pointed out the lesser qualities of their favorite cartoon. Regardless of the reasons, they're right. I'm a dick. So I decided it was time I made a page that was solely devoted to making the world a better place.

It will consist of ideas you can use in your everyday life to sound like less of an idiot, or give anecdotal examples of how I've helped the world through my own selfless actions. I might even include some instructions on how to make a macrame plant holder/ash tray. And if anyone has an even remotely rational reason why pictures of Lynda Carter don't make the world a better place, let me know.

Lynda.

Midget. I just thought of how cool it would be if the whole A-Team had like midget counterparts that showed up for exploitative cameos in every episode. You know, while they're building the big wooden things or something. They would toss hammers to Murdoch or there would be a fun music video of them accidentally smashing their thumbs or getting their heads caught in things.

And if there was ever an episode where they couldn't be slipped in, they could just wait until Hannibal goes, "I love it when a plan comes together." Then a little midget would run past the camera banging frying pans together. Following after him, Mr. T.(the real one, not the little one) would be screaming, "You better come back here with my frying pan, sucka!"

But since the show was cancelled years ago, this could only be done with state-of-the-art digital effects or some sort of unwatchable reunion special.

A lot of people that email to let me know they hate me have no idea that I have been training my whole life to kill them. I'm so tough, I once got pissed and took a marine and threw him against the wall and nailed him with a fire hose!

Actually ... he was in the army, not the marines. Sort of in the army... he watched Rambo a couple times. He had the ... lunch box, anyway.... not really a lunch box. More of a ... cellophane wrapped sandwich. That didn't exactly have Rambo on it. Well, there wasn't really ... cellophane on it either. I just hosed down some guy I saw with a sandwich.

This happened at a spiritual peak in my life. However, my spirituality was most often expressed as, "I don't want to go to church, god damn it." So if you made a graphical representation of it, this peak looked like a speed bump you wouldn't even slow down for on an extraordinarily level road, but I'm still friends with the man the indians call, "Wet One with Sandwich."

After I saw this, I knew my purpose in life.
If anything could prove the existance of a god, it's this picture. And yet, I feel so dirty looking at it.

Lynda is cute. I can get off these damn metha-amphetamines any time I want. I just realized I don't know how to spell metha-amphetamines, and that is most likely wrong. You'd figure it would be right on this bottle of pills that pimp sold me, but all it says on here is "asperin, brotha!" I wonder if he ripped me off.

Speaking of spelling, I do know the correct way to spell "or-derves." And it's got a lot of apostrophies and spaces and shit.

But French words aren't as weird as the other day when I was shopping at Tent City. I was very interested in an incredible something-tag sale they were having on tents. When I walked in, I was greeted by a crosseyed lady with no legs. She said something that sounded like, "Gllggglgggb." I looked around, and the place was a big department store where they only sold stuff that was colored red. They had little wooden refrigerator magnets, dirty joke calendars, and fancy hats, but I couldn't find one damn tent. Why the fuck do they call it Tent City? No wait. They didn't call it that.

And I don't know what you call it when truckers pee in Mountain Dew bottles and throw them out their window onto the highway. There should be such a nasty name for that.

Military money goes for all kinds of strange things. I always thought they should try to have more fun with it. Like maybe they could give out tricky joke gifts when the men get promoted. The drill sargeant would march out and get everyone lined up. Then he would start screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Men! You are the most highly trained! And deadly! Soldiers in the world! You! Are unmatched in combat efficiency! You can kill a man with your ass in five seconds! Now! You men have proven your worth to your God! And! To your country! Stand easy! And receive your can of pea-nuts!!! Now, men! They sound half full! That is due to settling during shipping! You men are trained to deal with this! Gentlemen! Open! Your! Cans!!!"

Then, when the highly trained deadly soldiers open their (supposed) cans of peanuts, they are surprised to find out that instead of delicous nuts, the cans are bursting with springy snakes!

"You men! Are very funny! You should! Have seen your faces! Ha! Ha! Those were not peanuts! But snakes! They were however! Nutty like peanuts! Ha! Ha!"

I started to like the onion chewing gum, and would buy it to eat without even hilariously making someone eat something they hate.

I don't just love her because she's beautiful.  I love her because she can catch a bomb out of the air and throw it back. If word got out that there were snakes in the peanut cans, they could switch the prank to gum that turns their mouths blue, or cigars that explode. And filming events like this would be a much more effective military recruitment video than a bunch of sailors mopping aircraft carriers.

It may sound stupid, but someone somewhere is pondering it right now. Now they're scratching their crotch. Now they're walking across the room. Now they're turning their head... Oh my god! They see me!

I met some people the other day that managed to chain together cliches for two straight hours without ever forming an original sentence of their own. Like one would say, "That is more information than I needed." And the other would reply, "Oh, don't even go there." The response to that, of course, was "Whatever!" while sticking their palm in the other person's face.

I thought that talking like that might save some time. Like, you wouldn't have to think anymore, you would have a small menu of responses you could pick from after everything you heard. As you get better, you can expand your menu of responses in upwards of five.

This also works for jokes. Memorize as many old overtold jokes as you can and pretend you're clever when you insert them in the appropriate places. Example: when one person says, "That chick is a total slut," respond with "Yeah, man. She's like a doorknob. Everybody gets a turn [pause. wait for laughter]."

You see, you didn't think it up or do anything remotely clever, but people think you're the funny one. This isn't right. Regurgitated quippy responses are for the comedy and thinking impaired. It seems pretty obvious, but you'd be surprised at how few people notice things like this. So go ahead and say stupid shit. If I'm not there, you'll probably look cool.

Speaking of cliches, who came up with "the cat's pajamas?" I know it's just a stupid analogy that probably hasn't been used in decades except by old people commenting on the absorbancy of adult undergarments, but it still seems like it would be a dumb thing to say in almost every possible conversation since the birth of language.

I want this to be the last thing I see before I die.

Grrr. But listening to me is probably not wise. I'm only some guy who angers parents when their children visit my home page. Sure, when bad words bother you, you deserve to be bothered, but receiving hateful emails from angry christians prove that I've done nothing to help the world other than piss off some people that needed to get pissed off. So when I need a feeling of accomplishment, I feed some fish and beat a Nintendo game. Fish don't say anything after you save their pathetic lives, but games always thank you. That means the only feeling of self worth I've gotten comes from games that end like this:

Thank you to:
Muramase Watanabe
Enyi
Oto
Cool Iki
Number 7
Joe Smith
...
And you!
Thankyou for plaeying!
Congratulation!

Who gives money to TV evangelists? What kind of concussion do you have to suffer to fall for that? Every time I mention this, people say things like, "My grandma gave 20 thousand dollars to an evangalist."

I think there is something that happens to the human mind after a certain age, because old people really shouldn't be as amazingly stupid as they are. It's fun to talk to them, though, since only the elderly use words like "negro" and "bastard" as scientific terms.

"Network Administration Note:
Please be reminded that the opinions of Seanbaby are not necessarily and most likely not those shared by this server. Some of us here feel that TV evangelism is a fantastic tool for spreading the positive message of Jesus Christ, and that the elderly and their lack of bladder control is nothing to be joked about."

Why are toilets so funny?
Someone thought this message was worth reading in two languages.

I have a huge poster of this pose.  And I no longer need anything but it.
Nobody should look this cool when they scuba dive.
I worked at a computer help desk for a couple of years helping the problem solving impaired turn on the computers and "get on the net" or "surf the web." During my time there, I realized that anyone over 30 has about as much chance of sending an email as a cat. But in particular, there is one story that stands out in my mind as a time when I really helped someone. Most of what follows is true:

The Case of the Porn Reporter

A little Arab man (nobody in the library at a university is from an English speaking country) chases me down and demands that I stop a vicious crime. Communicating this took many hand gestures and unintelligible words and clicks.

When I triumphantly stride with him over to stop the crime in progress, I realize that the thing that upset him so badly was another lab user looking at porn on the web. Some people try to be subtle about this in such a public place, but this guy's entire monitor was filled with crotch.

I don't agree with the anti-porn policy I was about to enforce, but this guy was ugly and stupid looking enough that I didn't care kicking him out of my library. He looked at least a little bit mentally handicapped, so instead of grabbing him by his ear and dragging him out to the cement, I tapped him and said,
"You can't seriously think you can look at porn in the university library."
He was obviously prepared for me, and stuttered out, "No, it's okay. It's for a report."
I rolled my eyes. "A report on pornography."
He quickly corrected me, "Nono. It's a report on how easy it is to get this stuff off the internet."
I notice the chick on his screen looks like she wrapped her deformed breasts around her head a couple of times. The little Arab man and his ambiguously foreign friend (All foreign people at universities know each other. They join weird diversity clubs and things.) were turned around in their chairs making disgusted faces at this guy's screen. I make a mental note to let them know later that looking at stuff that they don't want to look at is stupid. Then I respond, "Wow. So I guess since it's for a report, you can do whatever you want."
After this, I took a pen out with a short speech, "I'm going to jam this pen into your neck and watch you bleed to death. I know I'm not supposed to, but I'm doing a report on how easy it is to kill someone in the library."
Then I explained to him that I didn't fucking care why he was looking at porn, and I would have ignored him if somebody hadn't tattled on him. I finished my short speech by telling him that if naked chicks was the best idea he could come up with for class, he could do research at a more inconspicuous place than the middle of the library in the afternoon. Then I took the pen out of his neck and watched him die while he made gurgling noises. I'm pretty sure he was trying to apologize.

That's the kind of thing I would do at work when I wasn't playing Mega Man. And, you know, when I wasn't writing haikus.

Tony Danza is tasty
He rubs my ass
And floats into mystery.

Super heroes automatically have a built in map of the world in their head. That's how you can just run or fly in a straight line between Gotham and Beijing without getting lost on the Atlantic Ocean, and I suppose, since you'll be dead in moments, I can let you know my brilliant plan, Mr. Bond! People learn everything they know from television. That's why I'm saving money to get my own network where all I show is suicidal rodeo clowns. That way, people either start thinking for themselves, or die off in rapid numbers. Wait! Mr. Bond has escaped! Find him, you fools!!

I heard about this thing called country music. I'm still pretty sure that it's a big group of cowboys that are playing the world's largest practical joke since Mormonism. And some day, they're all gonna take off their cowboy hats and chaps and say, "Got you!! Ha ha! Oh man, you guys totally bought it!"

Fuck. Fuck.
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