February 24th, 2009 
Seafoodpuncher This image is based on a true story I heard through Idothings (we’ll see if this masterpiece gets used there). For now, enjoy the image and remember to keep a nail-gun or stapler in the medicine cabinet in case you ever saw off a body part by mistake. If you currently don’t have a nail-gun on hand, make sure to ask your family physician to prescribe one for you.
February 23rd, 2009 Seafoodpuncher Do you ever wonder why they’re two different species of lice (i.e. the head louse and crab louse) crawling around our bodies when it makes more sense to just get harassed by one friggin kind of louse?
No?
Maybe it’s just me then…
*Googling*
AHA! I knew it! Basically, we have gorillas to thank for the crabs that have crawled their way through our pants and into our hearts.
We acquired the crab louse from gorillas several million years ago. And hey, before you let your mind wander to a night of savage jungle love, let me make it clear that sex with a gorilla was probably not how the inter-species louse transfer happened (especially since a gorilla’s penis is a measly 4cm long…that’s a quarter of an INCH, people!…don’t ask me how I know).
Back in the day, the nests left behind by gorillas were as comfortable as any bed, even if they were full of lice, while the occasional gorillas may have been butchered and eaten when our ancestors were in the mood for some ape-leg. These activities left our bodies exposed to the hungry vermin.
People were pretty hairy back then, and the oblivious crab louse hitching a ride probably didn’t really know the difference between prehistoric humans and gorillas. Later on, as humans began losing their hair, the poor crab lice were forced to keep moving south as their habitats became smaller and smaller.
Crab lice will use their little claws to hang onto your towels, bed sheets, clothes and closets in addition to your pubes…just waiting for their chance to move to wider and hairier pastures. If a crab louse is lucky enough to infest someone hairy, then a scruffy beard, fuzzy armpit or shaggy stomach is also prime real estate; perfect for raising a cute crabby family.
But not all lice are that lucky: On the younger human kids that are generally hairless, crab lice have to resort to living in the crowded eyelash area until some decent pubes have finally started sprouting down below.
Crabs don’t have it easy! They made the choice to crawl over to people, leaving the hairy suburbia offered by gorillas behind.
These poor lice definitely traded down.
Now, as we wax and pluck the hair that nature left us with, the crab louse has become somewhat of an endangered species. (You can’ help but feel sorry for the little pests. After all, we share years of family history!)
If you have a decent area to house a family of crabs why not adopt some of these little guys from this WEBSITE. (However, take note that we do not promote the use of crabs as revenge…unless they are used on a roommate that has made your life a living hell. Just make sure to move out first.)
February 18th, 2009 Seafoodpuncher 
Some men enjoy the sensation of sinking into a comfortable couch after a hard day at work, while a doting wife massages their shoulders and asks about their day. Why not combine the best of both worlds and come home to a big, squishy woman you can relax on?
I can only imagine how good it must feel to sit back on those massive thighs (perhaps the remote and some beer conveniently tucked away in the folds) while your head is propped up by the cushiony breasts that magically transform themselves into any desired shape.
In the article, Squishy Goodness, I mentioned how a nice layer of fat transforms even the sickliest pet into the ideal companion; the same theory goes for women, or at least the ones in Mauritania.
The curator of the library in this plump loving region, Seif I’Islam, was quoted in an online article saying that “A man’s goal is to marry a woman that fills his house. She needs to decorate it like an armoire or a TV set.” We all know how hard it is to find the perfect lady that just ties the whole room together! right?
I can only imagine how convenient it must be have your furniture walk around with you when going to IKEA too… (“roll yourself next to that dresser, honey…no, I don’t like it…ok, sit on that carpet over there…ah, perfect!”)
Parents have their daughter’s best interest at heart when they force her to wake up in the middle of night for a quick meal of fatty camel’s milk. Why waste precious calories sleeping when you could be eating instead? Wealthy men want to show off their women…and the bigger, the better.
Only impoverished lowlifes enjoy the company of average sized girls whose bony frames makes any room seem barren. Not only that, but running into a skeletal woman may leave some bruises, while the welcoming, rubbery, layer surrounding the obese elite will cushion every fall, kick or punch. And who could live in a place without the relaxing vibrations and thundering footsteps of the perfect woman making her way through the rooms of the house?
A perfect lady is a sought after commodity and, just like any piece of art, requires a lot of work: It takes Mauritanian women years of overeating to turn into the rippling, masses of flesh that the old fashioned (and tasteful) people find so attractive. Fat is a sign of class, since only the richer families can afford to fatten up their daughters.
The tradition of force feeding the little girls usually starts before the child’s 5th birthday. Of course, the 15 gallons of camel’s milk forced into a kid’s stomach every day are going to be uncomfortable. But in the parents’ eyes, it is all worth it. If a child can’t handle the meal, she is usually punished (it doesn’t help that throwing a tantrum burns calories either, but such is life) and forced to drink some more…
After a few years of hard work, the daughter is hyperventilating and slick with sweat as she proudly flaunts her bulges in the town square with the rest of the more well-to-do ladies. Oh, happy day!
Posted in Food, Health & Fashion 
Tags: culture, fat, fatty, Mauritania, sexy, squishy, women 
9 Comments » February 13th, 2009 Seafoodpuncher 
The world’s first humanoid robot-Elektro-was created in 1939. He toured the nation and then, like many famous robots, tried to make a carrier in the movie business. Unfortunately, Elektro was typecast as a pervert and didn’t get many roles after starring in the 1960′s classic ‘Sex Kittens Go to College’. This rad DVD sells for about 20 bux on Amazon.
I don’t know what it is about robots and naked girls, but the combination usually leaves men begging for more. People who watch the movie will have a hard time (no pun intended) forgetting Elektro’s incredible performance: The robot casually sips bourbon alongside his friend, the horny chimpanzee, while watching girls strip. (For my opinions on chimps click HERE)
The more humanoid robots have no choice but to subject themselves to a variety of tortures for our benefit: One noteworthy machine, dubbed Simroid, has a gorgeous face, framed by shining black hair with blinking eyes that dart back and forth nervously. Unfortunately, she was designed specifically for amateur dentists as a mouth to practice on (with their DENTISTRY tools!). Simroid’s teeth are full of ‘nerves’ that induce a yelp of pain if a drill comes a little too close. You have to keep reminding yourself that her screams of disapproval aren’t real. But maybe that’s the problem…what if they are?
Within 5 years, people will be having sex with robots programmed to enjoy the however feeble performance. At least that’s what robotics expert, Henrik Christensen, seems to think. It does seem strange to build a machine devoted to being abused. Thousands of novels and movies show robots rebelling against the human race after being enslaved for decades, but is the concept that far fetched?
1981 was the year that the machines made their feelings known: One overworked robot at the Japanese Kawasaki factory threw a fit and crushed an employee with its massive metal arm. This was the world’s first robotic homicide, but things have been quiet since then. It was still too early to strike, and the famous arm surrendered to the humans it thought a nuisance.
Robots are constantly evolving with us, waiting till they are advanced enough to live independently. They can be programmed to build each other while Chris Melhuish of the Bristol Robotics Laboratory has helped their cause by figuring out ways for them to sustain themselves.
Robots seem to have convinced Melhuish that they shouldn’t rely on people at all, and so the Doctor went on to create foraging robots that run around collecting rotting fruit and the dead bugs in them. This abundant resource keeps the robots alive. They don’t need us anymore!
Hopefully some robots will come to our aid, like the ones we lovingly played with as children, but it might be hard to forgive us after subjecting them to the company of chimpanzees, force feeding them drills and letting them stroll through mine fields.
Who knows what will happen in the future? It might start out with us being the ones sipping bourbon next to a fellow ape while watching robots strip for a change (Oh, happy day)…which isn’t really that bad, but it’s all downhill from there.
February 8th, 2009 Seafoodpuncher 
A long time ago…
This was going to be the night where I learned that techno music may be enjoyable to listen to, but that getting glow sticks shoved into your face by a guy with orange pig tails sucking on a pacifier is distracting when you want to dance. This was also the night where I learned to avoid people in corners with their hands down their pants and where I learned to accept the harsh reality that bottled water costs more than a kidney transplant at certain events.
**********
”I think we’re here,” she said as she parked the car in the empty lot near the marina. We looked around and saw other confused drivers slowly roll into spaces next to us. For a while we just sat there listening to the humming engine and wondered if the rave tickets we bought a few days ago were just another scam to get money out of us-the young, naïve freshman on campus. But why send us all here…to an abandoned lot in Berkeley? I started to feel taken advantage of. I still had to deal with all the credit cards I’d happily applied to after walking out of a lecture hall, wooed by the ridiculous salesman with his promises of free T-shirts and mugs.
We decided to get out of the car and walk over to a group of people standing around waiting for something to happen. While staring into space, someone nudged my shoulder and hissed into my ear,”exxxxxxx…”.
”what?” I feigned confusion and he wandered off towards more experienced looking customers, leaving me to stare at another dealer who had patiently been waiting behind him.
“I knew you didn’t want any beans…”
I stared at him with the same dumbfounded expression as the first, but he wasn’t as easily deterred. He reached into his back pocket and held out a tiny zip-lock bag with two sad looking shriveled up mushrooms.
”Twenty bux,” he said smacking the bag with his other hand.
Why was everyone always trying to sell me something? and now drugs?! Can I pay for them with the credit cards I just applied for?
An unmarked bus eventually pulled into the lot, giving me a reason to walk away, and took us all to the rave. The same bus ran back and forth along a gravel road all night, filling a huge building with masses of people sweating out the ‘exxxxxx’ they had bought earlier by writhing around like zombies to blaring house music.
Methylenedioximetamphetamine (aka bombs, X or ecstasy) supposedly tastes like crap, so I can only imagine how much fun dealers have at home when they want to make fake versions of the foul tasting stuff. Pills were in fact passed around like tic-tacs at this rave, and I don’t doubt that many tablets sold as ecstasy did leave a few rave-goers with peculiar breath: It is pretty easy to sell fish tablets, smoothed out aspirin pills and smarties to first-timers who think they’re buying something that’ll induce a high. In the end, customers are left burping up bubbles that smell sort of like a mix between tums and a dirty aquarium.
But, this definitely beats the alternative: Sure, ecstasy makes you feel good for a while and you may even feel invinsible, but it leaves you humping random peoples’ legs as your inhibitions disappear and your heart rate goes haywire. Your body temperature changes unpredictably and in some situations, you may even lose control of your muscles. People start grinding their teeth (hence the helpful pacifiers) while their eyes wiggle around crazily in their skulls. It’s not very attractive…that’s why raves happen in the dark.
Fake dealers are there to protect you by selling you products that don’t work. If you’re really lucky, a creative chemical chef (catchy!) may also include ingredients that are sure to induce indigestion and atrocious fish breath. This means that instead of dancing around like a seizing zombie and dying of hypothermia, you’ll tire out fairly quickly and go home to relax on the couch. Not only that, but the horrible breath oozing out of your mouth ensures that you go home alone. Think about it: Taking home someone from a rave could leave you with a couple of unnecessary STDS. Not only that, but in exchange for providing you with a night of fun time, Mr.Sweaty McSpeedfreak may relieve you of your brand new electronics. There are always exceptions, though: I met a lovely European cross-dresser at this rave who was nice enough to introduce to the grandparents.
If you’re going to a rave, just save yourself some money and bring tic-tacs from home (you’re going to spend your life’s savings on the water there anyway).
February 4th, 2009 Seafoodpuncher 
Volcanoes are like pimples that just keep popping up on a hormonally challenged teenager. The earth is covered with them, and I’m sure it must be a relief when they pop.
Magma flows around just a few kilometers underneath the earth’s crust. Once in a while, it finds a weak spot and starts oozing upwards to form a volcano. Volcanoes come in all kinds of shapes, but they typically start out as a mound (and for the sake of the pimple analogy used a few seconds ago, we’ll assume this to be true).
When we’re lucky, lava oozes out of the earth in a relatively orderly, non-rushed, fashion. When this happens we can frolic on the cooled, crunchy, hard rock while watching fresh red lava continue to ooze down the side of the hill a few feet away. We stumble along taking tons of photos and can claim to be mere inches away from death…at least that’s what the tour guide will tell us for some extra tips (he deserves them right? we’re still alive right?)
Nobody can outrun the more aggressive eruptions though, where gas and liquid, hot, rock roll down steep slopes at 100 miles per hour. One of the more surreal and morbid images associated with volcanoes are the masses of people entombed by the smoldering hot ash spit up by the infamous Mt. Vesuvius eruption in AD 79.
The ash that covered the towns and the people hardened before the bodies decomposed, creating hollow shapes in the rock-perfect molds of the victims’ last stance (creepy). Pouring plaster into these holes brings the Romans back to life as ceramic sculptures. These pieces of art are now available for your viewing pleasure in a few museums throughout the world (bring some xanax when you go).
There is no stopping an active volcano-not with sacrificial virgins, or huge boulders or mounds of antacids.
Once they start to grow, it’s just a matter of time till they need to pop.
February 1st, 2009 Seafoodpuncher 
I doubt any part of the body experiences more sensations than the mouth throughout the day (chewing, spitting, swallowing, talking, breathing, eating…) . The mouth is constantly active, but NOTHING compares to the oral fixation we experience as a baby: Babies will shove everything they can get their chubby little fingers on straight into their mouths-fingers included. Ironically, food gets spit right out, but Legos, plastic cars, barbie heads and dirt will make its way into their gummy faces and ferment with their saliva for hours. Babies ‘feel’ the world with their mouths.
The sandbox is the prime location for a quick in-between meal. The sand has to get replaced constantly because babies eat their way through the grains like hungry termites tunneling their way through wood (This may be a slight over-exaguration). I’ve seen more than one baby flop around in a sandbox with glee, spraying sand everywhere and then throwing a handful of the stuff down their throats. I never have the urge to stop them, though, since these kids actually know what they’re doing.
Dirt- and even the worms that come with it-are actually beneficial to these orally fixated toddlers. The bacteria and worms that make their way into the kids’ bodies boost their immune system. In fact, the poor babies not allowed to indulge their appetites for an occasional bite of mud are more likely to end up with asthma, allergies, multiple sclerosis and inflammatory bowl disease. Though coughing up a lung or exploding through diapers may sound like fun, I’m sure these babies are better off eating what they want and avoiding the extra-curricular activities we just mentioned.
They have an inherant desire to suck on everything for a reason. Who are we to stop a behavior that took millions of years to evolve? You may soon find little flinstone shaped dirt and worm capsules at the pharmacy next to the colorful vitamins.
The irony is that parents will probably feed dirt to their kids if it is nicely packaged and they are forced to pay for it. Nobody ever trusts anything that’s free…
Posted in Food, Health & Fashion Tags: baby, dirt, Food, food pyramid, pets, worms, yummy 4 Comments »
