Wednesday, December 12

Observational humour about patently false things

I can't believe that they're still chopping Filipino babies in two. I mean, I get it. We need more Filipinos, but aren't there enough Asians already? There isn't enough lumpia! What's the deal?

Now I love getting popcorn at the movies, but occasionally I'll be on a date and we'll get to that awkward point of whether or not to get butter on it. Right? Because we all know that it's not really butter, but hot oily horse ejaculate. Talk about awkward. I never really know what to do at this point. I mean, if this girl is so willing to eat popcorn slathered in horse cum — on the first date — you gotta ask yourself: what's Thanksgiving going to be like? This is why I always go for Sour Kids.

I think the problem with most classical music isn't that it's boring: it's the risk of being gored during the performances. Do they really need to release a live, rabid bull into the concert hall? What is this, 1856? Yeah, I appreciate an authentic rendition of the Brandenburg Concerto as much as the next guy, but I'd rather keep my spleen unpunctured. Thaaaaanks.

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