Gerard “Crybaby” Way, of My Chemical Romance, is writing a comic book series about “seven super-human kids” who “need to ‘learn to get past their spectacularly dysfunctional childhoods’ to save the world.”
This blog can sum up that, and any subsequent, series in one word:
EEEEEEE-MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
On a related note: Dark Horse is making a non-Star Wars comic book?
Shotgun: $225
One cartridge: 50 cents
Book on how to shoot a shotgun with your big toe: $19.95 ($22 Canadian)
Stain-resistant stationary: $5.65 plus shipping and handling.
Leaving a suicide note behind that decries the commercialism of rock music, only to have your songs featured in an EA video game 13 years later: PRICELESS.
Yesterday, SG reported that Paris Hilton wasn’t quite going to be as rich as she thought she might end up being. TMZ, the website that actually gets interviewed on CNN, says that she’s still going to become little Miss Richpants eventually.
NONETHELESS, let the Paris-boycott begin! When at the grocery store, don’t buy french bread, buy anti-Paris bread! When at the fast food establishment, don’t eat french fries, eat anti-Paris fries! And when making breakfast tomorrow, don’t make french toast, make anti-Paris toast! One mind!
Good morning, humans, and a good morning it is, for this blog bears news of yet another victory in our War on Animals.
The fifth-columnists who have attempted to co-opt our war, who would criticize our vigilence, who would make annoying whimper sounds any time we eat steak, have effectively removed themselves from the gene pool.
Yes, vegans–or vegansexuals, who practice a morally reprehensible lifestyle that may or may not be an affront to God–have sworn off sex with meat-eaters. Much like the Shakers religious movement, we can just playing the waiting game until they die off.
As long as we remain alert (and did I mention vigilent?), our extra-species enemies will reach the same inevitable conclusion.
