Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category

Shia Leboeuf’s celebretard art installation “He will not divide us” has finally divided us.

It started with Shia himself attacking an attendee and being arrested for assault. Originally created as a “peaceful protest” to “bring people together” where anyone was encouraged to record their statements on a camera which would repeat the video in perpetuity, the street found its own use for things and soon crowds of people started showing up, including those with opposing views.

“The installation created a serious and ongoing public safety hazard for the museum, its visitors, staff, local residents, and businesses.” – Museum of the Moving Image

Opposing views are not welcome in the world of political correctness, and so Shia physically assaulted an exhibit attendee, and, as he was carted away in handcuffs, his parting words of tolerance and peace were, “How are we going to make this shit okay to be a Nazi out here?”

“Over the course of the installation, there have been dozens of threats of violence and numerous arrests, such that police felt compelled to be stationed outside the installation 24 hours a day, seven days a week.” – Museum of the Moving Image

Opened on January 20, the exhibit ran a mere 5 days before Shia’s arrest and was shut down less than 2 weeks later.

“The Museum Has Abandoned Us.” Shia tweeted after the exhibit’s closing, completely ignoring the fact that it is his own fault, and it all went fine until he attacked someone.

HAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA etc, etc, etc.

 

Ha

Posted: January 21, 2017 in Humor, News, Uncategorized
Tags: , , ,

trumphillaryNot much more to say about that.

…at least you are safe during your lunch break!

Italy’s Supreme Court of Cassation has ruled that Fiat was wrong to sack an employee for watching porn DVDs during his lunch break, LiveSicilia reports.

Back in 2010, a court in Termini Imerese, Sicily, backed the company’s decision to dismiss the man from its local factory for eyeballing smut. Palermo’s Court of Appeal subsequently declared the sacking unlawful, an opinion now confirmed by Italy’s highest beaks.

Critically, since there was no proof the man had watched the DVDs “during work hours” – merely a unproven “suspicion” – Fiat had no right to sack him, the Court of Cassation said.

However, the court did decide that Fiat was quite within its rights to issue marching orders to another employee “caught smoking joints during working hours”.

http://www.theregister.co.uk/2015/10/15/italy_fiat_ruling/

Thanks to HomebodyBob for sharing this with me.

It’s been a while since I have written anything. The main reason is *probably* because I have been on a strict media fast. It makes me much happier burying my head in the sand. I’ve been happy playing with my little hydroponic garden with my 1000 pet ladybugs (who reproduce better than rabbits– all they do is screw and make babies!) and my homebrew video game projects and myriad other spinning plates.

I tend not to write much when I am happy. It’s more an outlet for my rage. Obviously. You people are rage vampires, feeding on the rancid bloodborne vitriol of my angst!

Drowning in a sea of morons is a voluntary choice. Once in a while they moron on you (I have just made moron into a verb) and you have to scrub it off (with bleach), but for the most part, it seems like you can go about your daily life without getting soiled.

Well, sorta…

debtchart2014

But yeah, buy metals and commodities and hunker down and hope for the best because you have prepared for the worst.

I’ve been spending a lot of time in the Death Star. It’s easier here, getting things done. Well, sorta…

Never buy a condo under mine. Seriously.

A couple weeks back I found a wet spot in my guest bedroom carpet. Having no pets, it was a curious thing. So I vacuumed it up with the neighbor’s carpet shampooer and went about my daily life. The wet spot kept getting bigger. And more soggy. To the point where a pond was forming in the floor. And so I called the condo nazis to inform them that we had a leak, and to inquire about the process of getting it dealt with.

“We’ll send the plumbers over,” Gemeinschaftsleiter Frau Darth Murrischegesicht says, and so they did.

“Oh, this is definitely your AC condensate line,” PlumberBob tells me, after taking a 2-minute look at everything, “Not our thing. You have to call your AC guy.”

And so I call the AC guy, and he comes over, and we change the AC condensate line to drain into the water heater’s emergency overflow pan drain line.

Yet the pond continued to grow.

And so I called the insurance company and they said to deal with Gemeinschaftsleiter Frau Darth Murrischegesicht, and Gemeinschaftsleiter Frau Darth Murrischegesicht said to deal with the insurance company, and the plumbers said to deal with the AC guy and the AC guy and I did our best and it didn’t help.

Meanwhile, water began to leak into the ceiling of the downstairs neighbors. Which is why you should never buy a condo under mine. Seriously.

This whole situation is merely a microcosm of why governments are such bullshit– if there is this much moronism in such a simple situation, imagine what it’s like on a national level. Actually, don’t. It will depress the shit out of you.

So a week goes by with me getting angrier and angrier because the people who insist they know what they know do not actually know what they insist that they know, and are, in fact, surprising me at their very existence and continued ability to pick up food and put it into their own mouths. And the water continues to leak.  Meanwhile I am pulling the weight of all the idiots who should be fixing this– 10 gallons of water per day out of just the dehumidifier and the whole place is starting to reek of wet carpet and mold. 5 fans on, hourly passes with the carpet shampooer to suck the water out of the carpet. Setting up buckets and pans in a one-man reverse bucket brigade to keep my downstairs neighbor’s place from flooding. It literally squishes up water out from underfoot when you walk in there.

Sounds kind of like a small-scale model of what is going on with the feds.

And so I recruited my neighbor and we picked up a hammer and a drywall saw and went to town on the walls. And surprise surprise, we found the leak. A broken pipe was pissing a geyser of water out into the insulation, which was running down inside the wall and into the floor. And so we called the plumbers and told them what was going on, and they said they would come by.

A few more hours passed and we said, “fuck this, let’s fix it ourselves,” and so we did. The plumbers showed up at 9pm, 8 hours later. I told them to take a hike, since we’d gotten tired of waiting and did their jobs for them.

So the next day, I go in and tell Gemeinschaftsleiter Frau Darth Murrischegesicht that she will be paying me back for the work I have done, the repairs, the new carpet pad, etc etc etc and she agrees, but get this– she insists that the plumbers come in and inspect the repair before she can sign off on it!!! HAHAHAHA!

Yes. I laugh. Heartily.

You fuckers refuse to do anything to fix a plumbing issue that is clearly your domain (it’s even in the condo docs) and then demand the final say in someone actually getting up to do it themselves!? And then send the same crew of droolers to inspect the propriety of something they both misidentified and refused to take responsibility for when it was clearly their responsibility?

Wow… How… government!

(yes, I just turned moron into a verb, and government into an adjective)

El Buen Maestro

Posted: March 27, 2015 in Humor, Life, Stupidity
Tags: , ,

That’s what my downstairs neighbors called me after I went in and fixed the leaky pipes myself. Seeing as how the guy who installed them has probably fled Chile to avoid the torches and pitchforks, and the guy who I called to help me never showed up.

And so I learned how to solder copper pipes (because one of the first things I did during the teardown was to put the chisel straight through the gas line) and do Super-Duty Gringo jungle repairs on poorly-done Chilean PVC. And how to use plumber’s epoxy. And I actually did it right, because now there is no more feces raining down from anywhere but my own butt.

If this keeps on its current trajectory, in 6 more months I will have all the skills necessary to rebuild civilization from the stone age to the digital age after the zombie apocalypse wipes out humanity.

What had happened is that the “maestro” put a PVC pipe into an ancient iron one, and sealed it with nothing more than an entire tube of silicone. Said silicone was probably not meant for constant exposure to humidity and butt stuff, and so it fell apart 6 months later. And said pigiron shitty pipe was probably not meant for humidity and butt stuff either, because it had decomposed accordingly, and so I rerouted the other plastic pipes to another outlet, and epoxied the hell out of everything just to be sure.

Cutting the whole thing apart was a mess. It’s been done a hundred times; hero cuts into monster with chainsaw, getting sprayed with blood from head to toe, leaving a clean silhouette on the wall behind him. Only with me it was different in color and odor, as the reciprocating saw cut into the fermented sedimentary strata of poop in the bottom of the pipe… let me tell you there is no sensation quite like it. Last I felt this way was in Uruguay when I got a steaming shit shower from the backwards-built septic tank.

I knew better than to eat until I was done with this stuff, because I knew there would be gag moments. This was one of them.

I still don’t want to eat. I smell like a sewer. But it’s done!!!

Next I get to play with tile and cement, which is childs play for me at this point.

It’s funny, the whole situation, because I could have been finished with this crap a week ago had I just dove into it myself. Instead I kept waiting around for a guy I thought was reponsible to come and take care of it for me, because, well, I earn a lot more in the same amount of time for working my own job. It’s more efficient to do that and pay someone to do the repairs while I work, IF he fucking shows up to do said work. He said he would, and so I repeat the age-old mañanismo bullshit putting off my own stuff waiting on something that will never happen.

But hey, now it’s been fixed by a gringo, and con suerte it will endure for another century.

And now I am better than a Maestro Chileno. I am El Buen Maestro Gringo.

Since the taboo has been broken and it’s no longer considered gauche to start running for President 2 years before the actual election, I have decided to announce my candidacy for the President of the United States of America.

My platform: Let’s fix our shit.

Yes, I am a pretty staunch anarchocapitalist but I am also pragmatic in my knowledge that most people are just food tubes looking for people to tell them what to do. What is plaguing the place is that you food tubes have been given delusions of grandeur and the resulting class warfare is making those of us who support your sorry asses a tad irritable, to say the least. So instead of nuking the entire site from orbit and starting over, I will do the following to get things sorted back out:

My first act upon taking office will be to throw all caution to the wind, and, unlike all previous presidents, I will not be a whimpering pussy and wait until the last moment of the last minute of the last day of my tenure to issue pardons; the Presidential pardon is the ultimate check and balance in the system and it has never been used. Yet.

I will immediately create an office to issue pardons to all people convicted of the following “crimes:”

  • Tax evasion. This will pretty much gut the IRS and force reforms to the tax code which not even the IRS, admittedly, can make sense of.
  • Drugs. What you put in your body is none of the government’s business. You’d think they would have learned from Prohibition. No more people need to die over plants you can grow in your backyard.
  • Prostitution. There are no victims, except the people in jail.
  • Money laundering. If it’s OK for the feds to do it, it’s OK for Joe the Plumber.

My second act in office will be to immediately cease all external military actions, close all foreign military bases, and bring every soldier home where he belongs. Let other countries sort their own shit out. The world will need to become a very civil place very quickly. If they don’t want to be, that’s fine; we’ll be OK right here on our own dirt, with the entirety of the world’s angriest jarhead army defending the home court.

I will then assign the most pacifist, uncooperative assholes I can find to positions like the Secretary of State, and intentionally make it hard for people to reach them. I will scramble the phone number directories on a regular basis.

Every member of Congress will then be rounded up by my own private army (what to do with all those soldiers?) and be implanted with tracking devices that the American people can watch on a public website. Their houses will be wired for Reality Television, the shows aired on cable, and the proceeds rolled back into the paying off the public debt.

The White House will also be wired up for Reality Television. I will fill it with rock stars and porn stars, and the Playboy Mansion will have to be condemned as “being too square” in comparison. As I am unmarried, there can be no ridiculous scandals about who I screw, and it will be televised anyway. The profits from this cable channel will also be rolled back into paying off the public debt. Instead of picket signs, the White House fence will be festooned with a garland of bras and panties.

All of my Secret Service will be replaced by women, and they will then be renamed my Victoria’s Secret Service. I will parade around the world collecting massive speaking fees simply to show up as an international sex symbol with babes hanging on my arms. These fees will also be rolled back into paying off the public debt. I believe that over 4 years’ time, the Sexy President (TM) franchise will be a significant monetary machine and a tremendous public asset.

I will then spend the rest of my Presidency actively vetoing every last piece of paper that comes across my desk, firing all the losers I can fire, trimming fat where I find it, and doing absolutely nothing else to endanger the health and wellbeing of the American people.

Maybe I’ll take up golf.

And, if that works for you, I’ll run again 2 years before my term is over.

Remember, vote for ExpatBob in 2016!

Introducing the NoPhone. It’s sort of a surrogate smartphone to force you (or someone else) to actually engage in social activity and notice the surroundings.

My guess is that it will be met with violent resistance by the person you are attempting to re-insert into the real world.

Wow, read the first testimonial on the page:

I used to sleep with my phone in my hand, but my night terrors would cause me to hurl it across the room in an unconscious panic. With the noPhone, I can still enjoy the comfort of holding a phone in my sleep, without waking up to a shattered screen. Thanks, noPhone. -David H

I just don’t know what to say to that. Then there’s another gem:

Because of the noPhone, I haven’t drunk texted my ex boyfriend in one whole week. -Craig G

 

So you have enough sense to trick yourself into swapping your real phone out for a pacifier (or your friends do) but not enough sense not to drunk-text your ex? WEEKLY? When you cause enough damage to require self or friend based interventions…