Funny is funny, and 20 years of America’s Funniest Home Videos and a decade of Jackass proves it. A shot to the groin is as reliable a laugh as there is. And if the shot comes from a baseball on a tee, a football place-kicked or a ram, bull or buffalo aiming for a man’s center of gravity, so much the funnier.
Jackass 3D fires paintballs and dildos right into our faces and gives three full dimensions to projectile vomiting and the after-effects of a heavy dose of laxatives. They suffer for their art. Isn’t schadenfreude beautiful? Continue reading MasterChugs Theater: ‘Jackass 3D’
The San Francisco city board passed a bill that bans “restaurants from handing out toys with meals that fail to meet basic nutritional standards for fat, calories, and sodium.” The target of the bill is the McDonald’s Happy Meal, which famously lures children in once a week to get the latest plastic movie tie-in.
However, if San Francisco really cared, they’d get rid of McDonald’s Monopoly, which convinces stupid people to eat there every day.
Is there a memory you’d rather not remember? A bad prom? Left at the altar? Did you accidentally fall into a hot dog cart, only to then be chased by a pack of feral dogs in heat?
Prepare to remember them one last time.
Science, that wonderful friend of the lonely, is cooking up a process that will reportedly remove painful memories, permanently. That’s right, el finito. As per the norm, scientists discovered that after removing a protein from the brains of mice, the little squeakers had trouble remembering things like fear.
This could potentially be bad for us. Better start making the test mice dumb, too, scientists.
It’s the best of everything: now we can be like Jim Carrey without having approximately 175 teeth in our mouths.
Smokers, we all know them, we all hate them. Smokers even hate smokers–unless they want to bum one. Heck even some of The Guys are smokers–unless their wives are around, that is.
We have successfully gotten smokers off planes, out of the office and away from pure oxygen in hospitals, but that’s not good enough. In England, they know what’s up. That’s why in one part of an English county, if you’re going out for a fag during work hours, you’d better clock out, you wanker. They are no longer paying for your one last respite of sanity in the whole Dickensian country.
It’s enough to drive you to drink, except that the pubs close before 11 pm.