The first episode is here!!!! Yay. Thanks everyone who sent in magical Questionnaires, and people who were live with us. Hope you enjoy and join us again this week :)
http://www.justin.tv/ok_intriguing/b/261997606
Showing posts with label humor funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor funny. Show all posts
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Rickshaws, hell yeah I did
I knew a guy named Richard Shaw once.
His parents, who had emmegrated from Sweden to Australia shortly before Richard was born, had never heard of the totally fucking awesome Asian transportation vehicle of extraordinary kick assnessous so they felt no shame at all when they began calling their son 'Rick'. In fact they thought they were doing him a favor, as this sounded more Australian to them, and they had been given a lot of grief over their own names 'Svenashlergan' and 'Svenuanabergenshlergenflurgen'. Sadly these traditional Swedish names have even all but died out even in native Sweden because of teasy bully cock heads who terrorized them from a gutless distance via the internet with cruel taunts like 'hey Svenuanabergenshlergenflurgen need any more 'urgen' rhymes in your name!' Sure, while a super cleaver taunt, its nothing short of gutless and douchey (ha ha, those clean vaginas), and to all of our detrement these names were even mostly taken out of the many great works of Swedish literature we all adore. Fuck you bullys.
So his parents were unaware, but Rick Shaw's happiness was a ticking time bomb ticking away about to tick one time too many so that if you had like a form with a question asking 'Is Rick Shaw happy?' with a box that was labelled 'yes' an another labelled 'no' you'd soon be able to quite accurately tick the box next to 'no' as in the time bomb of his happiness had ticked one tick too many and he was no longer a happy little camping enthusiast. Or happy in general, non-camping related at all.
That's right, two horrible things were to take place.
1. A hilarious episode of Seinfeld, where Kramer and Newman strapped rickshaws to homeless men with disastrous results, was about to hit the airwaves, starting a rickshaw loving obsession which swept Australia like some fucking enormous sweeping type device which wasn't scared of being bitten by snakes and spiders and sharks and crocodiles (ever notice how bitey things often have names which start with 'S' so fuck you crocodiles) and everyone with two legs, and who weren't so mentally challenged that they were institutionalized were doing everything they could do drag a rickshaw down the street and when rickshaws couldn't be located you better believe they'd make do with a 'Rick Shaw' - that poor motherfucker (he didn't actually fuck mothers, this is just a weird expression).
2. In a cruel twist of fate, as puberty hit all the boys, including Rick Shaw, and Rick was to discover himself to be blessed with nothing short of a tiny little pathetic penis - that poor motherfucker (see above to find out whether I am actually suggesting Rick fucked his mother - actually come to think of it I don't know if he ever fucked his mother, its not like he would have told me! Who knows, maybe one day he said 'Mom, puberty has come and gone and my penis still looks like a two year olds, no one will ever have sex with me, boo hoo' and his mom may have responded lovingly (lyingly) with 'sure they will, penis size is no where near as important to girls as boys think it is' and then he might have said 'would you sleep with a boy with a tiny penis' and then she may have been like thinking 'if I say no then I might fuck him up for life, maybe its my motherly duty to literally fuck him, you know to keep his confidence up')
(Seriously Dave, you're blogging about rickshaws and you turn to incest humor? Yes David I fucking am, perhaps I have some deep hidden mommy scars and some twisted fucking sexual perversion, so give me a break motherfucker, no not literally motherfucker, I am not a sick freak like Rick Shaw!!!!!)
So Rick was named after a physically demanding transportation device which had become super popular in Australia where he lived and he also had a tiny penis. He was not happy. Tick that box I was talking about if you must. He had a huge decision to make.
Should he
1. Follow the traditional path of the small penised (and small IQ'd, and small confidence in ones true masculinity) and buy an unnecessarily huge car, or powerfully engined car knowing that his fellow small penised comrades would now have his back, but he would face a life time of teasing for being called 'Rick Shaw' and driving some huge SUV fucking thing.
or
2. Embrace the rick shaw in his Rick Shawness, and get around that way, but then in no way warn girls he dated about his lack of penis size because they couldn't tell from his mode of transportation so when he finally got them into bed they'd just laugh in his face at his tiny penis.
Obviously both these options sucked balls (not in the literal fun way). And sadly Rick chose option
3. Have another suicidal dude pull his rickshaw off a cliff with him riding in back, killing him painfully.
Poor motherfucker (how dare you tarnish his memory by suggesting I mean this literally).
The point is rickshaws are awesome.
Other reasons why rickshaws kick ass
- Awesome tongue twisters like 'don't get sore because of the whore rick saw from the rickshaw
- Because when car guys refer to a cars horse power, they don't mean the power a horse can develop when running, they mean the power a horse generates while cumming, yes a car with 300 horse power has the same power as a 300 horse orgasms, those car guys really do have sick minds
- Its a dude pulling you, how is that not cool?
- If I started an abortion contortion show would you come via rickshaw, hell yeah you would
His parents, who had emmegrated from Sweden to Australia shortly before Richard was born, had never heard of the totally fucking awesome Asian transportation vehicle of extraordinary kick assnessous so they felt no shame at all when they began calling their son 'Rick'. In fact they thought they were doing him a favor, as this sounded more Australian to them, and they had been given a lot of grief over their own names 'Svenashlergan' and 'Svenuanabergenshlergenflurgen'. Sadly these traditional Swedish names have even all but died out even in native Sweden because of teasy bully cock heads who terrorized them from a gutless distance via the internet with cruel taunts like 'hey Svenuanabergenshlergenflurgen need any more 'urgen' rhymes in your name!' Sure, while a super cleaver taunt, its nothing short of gutless and douchey (ha ha, those clean vaginas), and to all of our detrement these names were even mostly taken out of the many great works of Swedish literature we all adore. Fuck you bullys.
So his parents were unaware, but Rick Shaw's happiness was a ticking time bomb ticking away about to tick one time too many so that if you had like a form with a question asking 'Is Rick Shaw happy?' with a box that was labelled 'yes' an another labelled 'no' you'd soon be able to quite accurately tick the box next to 'no' as in the time bomb of his happiness had ticked one tick too many and he was no longer a happy little camping enthusiast. Or happy in general, non-camping related at all.
That's right, two horrible things were to take place.
1. A hilarious episode of Seinfeld, where Kramer and Newman strapped rickshaws to homeless men with disastrous results, was about to hit the airwaves, starting a rickshaw loving obsession which swept Australia like some fucking enormous sweeping type device which wasn't scared of being bitten by snakes and spiders and sharks and crocodiles (ever notice how bitey things often have names which start with 'S' so fuck you crocodiles) and everyone with two legs, and who weren't so mentally challenged that they were institutionalized were doing everything they could do drag a rickshaw down the street and when rickshaws couldn't be located you better believe they'd make do with a 'Rick Shaw' - that poor motherfucker (he didn't actually fuck mothers, this is just a weird expression).
2. In a cruel twist of fate, as puberty hit all the boys, including Rick Shaw, and Rick was to discover himself to be blessed with nothing short of a tiny little pathetic penis - that poor motherfucker (see above to find out whether I am actually suggesting Rick fucked his mother - actually come to think of it I don't know if he ever fucked his mother, its not like he would have told me! Who knows, maybe one day he said 'Mom, puberty has come and gone and my penis still looks like a two year olds, no one will ever have sex with me, boo hoo' and his mom may have responded lovingly (lyingly) with 'sure they will, penis size is no where near as important to girls as boys think it is' and then he might have said 'would you sleep with a boy with a tiny penis' and then she may have been like thinking 'if I say no then I might fuck him up for life, maybe its my motherly duty to literally fuck him, you know to keep his confidence up')
(Seriously Dave, you're blogging about rickshaws and you turn to incest humor? Yes David I fucking am, perhaps I have some deep hidden mommy scars and some twisted fucking sexual perversion, so give me a break motherfucker, no not literally motherfucker, I am not a sick freak like Rick Shaw!!!!!)
So Rick was named after a physically demanding transportation device which had become super popular in Australia where he lived and he also had a tiny penis. He was not happy. Tick that box I was talking about if you must. He had a huge decision to make.
Should he
1. Follow the traditional path of the small penised (and small IQ'd, and small confidence in ones true masculinity) and buy an unnecessarily huge car, or powerfully engined car knowing that his fellow small penised comrades would now have his back, but he would face a life time of teasing for being called 'Rick Shaw' and driving some huge SUV fucking thing.
or
2. Embrace the rick shaw in his Rick Shawness, and get around that way, but then in no way warn girls he dated about his lack of penis size because they couldn't tell from his mode of transportation so when he finally got them into bed they'd just laugh in his face at his tiny penis.
Obviously both these options sucked balls (not in the literal fun way). And sadly Rick chose option
3. Have another suicidal dude pull his rickshaw off a cliff with him riding in back, killing him painfully.
Poor motherfucker (how dare you tarnish his memory by suggesting I mean this literally).
The point is rickshaws are awesome.
Other reasons why rickshaws kick ass
- Awesome tongue twisters like 'don't get sore because of the whore rick saw from the rickshaw
- Because when car guys refer to a cars horse power, they don't mean the power a horse can develop when running, they mean the power a horse generates while cumming, yes a car with 300 horse power has the same power as a 300 horse orgasms, those car guys really do have sick minds
- Its a dude pulling you, how is that not cool?
- If I started an abortion contortion show would you come via rickshaw, hell yeah you would
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Everyone is talking about talking
I was having a talk with my friend about talking the other day, oh we talked the talk the literal talk that is, the different types of talk - small talk, monologue talk, vagina talk, happy talk, sad talk, gopher talk, pillow talk, chalk talk, sweater vest talk, you know all the popular talks with the youth.
It was only after talking talk for a few hours that we both had the same thought ‘we should talk to some people about doing a tour of talks talking about talking’. After all everyone talks, it’s the best way to you know, tell people stuff and ask them stuff.
The talking about talking tour went great; it was the talk of the town. One headline proclaimed ‘everyone’s talking about talking about talking’ and another proudly stated ‘the talking about talking about talking article about the talking about talking tour has become the most talked about article of the year!’ (admittedly it was the author of the original 'everyone's talking about talking about talking article' who claimed it was the most talked about article of the year, but who were we to complain?
Success was ours. But we grew restless. We had a talk one day and we were like ‘all we’re doing is talking man, and talk is cheap according to an old cliché which is clearly false because people are definitely talking about how the talking about talking ticket prices are far too pricey, you know, just for a couple of dudes talking’.
Don’t get me fucking wrong, people were listening, hell yeah people were listening, no one would have been talking about the talking about talking tour if no one was listening, but still they had a point, we were just a couple of dudes talking.
So we decided to do something about it, and we formed a band. After a long talk we christened the band ‘Fleeting Forever’ and we were sure soon enough people would stop talking about the talking about talking tour and would all be talking about Fleeting Forever.
We wrote this song.
It’s my head
I never asked you to come to me
I don’t even know your name
But when I’m feeling sad and down
You’re always somewhat to blame
Why do you always tell me I’m not good enough?
Why do you always put me down?
Are you trying to be tough?
Does it make you feel good?
To see me here in despair
Why do you spend so much time with me?
When you don’t even seem to care
Stop talking to me
Stop talking to me
Why can’t you leave me alone?
I’m afraid
I guess I’m afraid of myself
The pessimism you plant in me
Is not what I deserve from you
You could help pick me up and make me feel good
But that’s not what you do
You choose to try and influence me
To say and do things I don’t want to do
The risks I take to satisfy you each day
Always leave me in despair
But you still follow me
To here and to there
And its clear that you don’t even care
Stop talking to me
Stop talking to me
Why can’t you leave me alone?
I’m afraid
I guess I’m afraid of myself
I’m afraid of what you’ll do to me
I’m afraid to hear your voice
I guess I’m afraid of myself
And we played it for a few people, and they were like, ‘what the hell is wrong with you, you depressing fucks’. So we had another crack at it, and wrote this thing.
Dirty river bed
I’ve made a big mistake
I didn’t think I was capable of such stupidity
Am I getting too complacent?
Have I been going for too long?
I’ve made a big mistake
If only I could tell
The difference between night and day
Am I getting too privileged?
Have I just been talking so much?
I made a big mistake
And it set me free
For one more day
So what am I going to do?
What sin can I commit to attest?
I don’t want to look in the mirror
I know I’m not looking my best
I may be laughing
But I’m laughing at myself
I’m getting ahead of myself
Showing up at the airport a day early
I’m getting behind myself
What more do I need to confess
Maybe everything is falling apart
Maybe I’m just learning
To look at the mountains reflecting
Rather than the dirty river bed
I’ve made a big mistake
I always thought reliable
Was the best I could achieve?
Am I getting too different?
Am I starting to disappear?
I’ve made a big mistake
If you want it done right
Why don’t you just do it yourself?
Am I getting too much knowledge?
Have I spent too much time in class?
I’ve made a big mistake
It seems I do still have idiocy left in me
I know I’m not the greatest
But that’s no reason to stop trying
I can’t give too much effort
I can’t move too far away
I’m getting ahead of myself
Showing up at the airport a day early
I’m getting behind myself
What more do I need to confess
Maybe everything is falling apart
Maybe I’m just learning
To look at the mountains reflecting
Rather than the dirty river bed
And we played it for a few people, and they’re like ‘seriously what the fuck is wrong with you guys, you depressing mother fuckers, plus that isn’t even structured anything like a song’.
So you know we kind of gave up for a while.
It was only after talking talk for a few hours that we both had the same thought ‘we should talk to some people about doing a tour of talks talking about talking’. After all everyone talks, it’s the best way to you know, tell people stuff and ask them stuff.
The talking about talking tour went great; it was the talk of the town. One headline proclaimed ‘everyone’s talking about talking about talking’ and another proudly stated ‘the talking about talking about talking article about the talking about talking tour has become the most talked about article of the year!’ (admittedly it was the author of the original 'everyone's talking about talking about talking article' who claimed it was the most talked about article of the year, but who were we to complain?
Success was ours. But we grew restless. We had a talk one day and we were like ‘all we’re doing is talking man, and talk is cheap according to an old cliché which is clearly false because people are definitely talking about how the talking about talking ticket prices are far too pricey, you know, just for a couple of dudes talking’.
Don’t get me fucking wrong, people were listening, hell yeah people were listening, no one would have been talking about the talking about talking tour if no one was listening, but still they had a point, we were just a couple of dudes talking.
So we decided to do something about it, and we formed a band. After a long talk we christened the band ‘Fleeting Forever’ and we were sure soon enough people would stop talking about the talking about talking tour and would all be talking about Fleeting Forever.
We wrote this song.
It’s my head
I never asked you to come to me
I don’t even know your name
But when I’m feeling sad and down
You’re always somewhat to blame
Why do you always tell me I’m not good enough?
Why do you always put me down?
Are you trying to be tough?
Does it make you feel good?
To see me here in despair
Why do you spend so much time with me?
When you don’t even seem to care
Stop talking to me
Stop talking to me
Why can’t you leave me alone?
I’m afraid
I guess I’m afraid of myself
The pessimism you plant in me
Is not what I deserve from you
You could help pick me up and make me feel good
But that’s not what you do
You choose to try and influence me
To say and do things I don’t want to do
The risks I take to satisfy you each day
Always leave me in despair
But you still follow me
To here and to there
And its clear that you don’t even care
Stop talking to me
Stop talking to me
Why can’t you leave me alone?
I’m afraid
I guess I’m afraid of myself
I’m afraid of what you’ll do to me
I’m afraid to hear your voice
I guess I’m afraid of myself
And we played it for a few people, and they were like, ‘what the hell is wrong with you, you depressing fucks’. So we had another crack at it, and wrote this thing.
Dirty river bed
I’ve made a big mistake
I didn’t think I was capable of such stupidity
Am I getting too complacent?
Have I been going for too long?
I’ve made a big mistake
If only I could tell
The difference between night and day
Am I getting too privileged?
Have I just been talking so much?
I made a big mistake
And it set me free
For one more day
So what am I going to do?
What sin can I commit to attest?
I don’t want to look in the mirror
I know I’m not looking my best
I may be laughing
But I’m laughing at myself
I’m getting ahead of myself
Showing up at the airport a day early
I’m getting behind myself
What more do I need to confess
Maybe everything is falling apart
Maybe I’m just learning
To look at the mountains reflecting
Rather than the dirty river bed
I’ve made a big mistake
I always thought reliable
Was the best I could achieve?
Am I getting too different?
Am I starting to disappear?
I’ve made a big mistake
If you want it done right
Why don’t you just do it yourself?
Am I getting too much knowledge?
Have I spent too much time in class?
I’ve made a big mistake
It seems I do still have idiocy left in me
I know I’m not the greatest
But that’s no reason to stop trying
I can’t give too much effort
I can’t move too far away
I’m getting ahead of myself
Showing up at the airport a day early
I’m getting behind myself
What more do I need to confess
Maybe everything is falling apart
Maybe I’m just learning
To look at the mountains reflecting
Rather than the dirty river bed
And we played it for a few people, and they’re like ‘seriously what the fuck is wrong with you guys, you depressing mother fuckers, plus that isn’t even structured anything like a song’.
So you know we kind of gave up for a while.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Proof cave men were geniuses; this blog has lots of sex
Just about every animal on earth fucks the same way, doggy style, so why the fuck is this called ‘doggy’ style? Didn’t some cave men watch sabre tooth tigers fuck and say lets try it ‘sabre’ style.
No they didn’t, because the cave men had the forethought to think that one day humans will choose to keep slobbery hairy animals in our homes, and let them poo in our back yards, and we’d like to think about them while doing it from behind, after all it is the position with the least face to face, the dude can look at the dog, and the girl can look at the sheets and get turned on by her decorating skills!! Cave men = Geniuses = proven!!!
Plus doing it doggy style, if the girl doesn’t want your cum on her back to clean up, simply spray all over the floor and the dog will lick it up. You ain’t going to get no Woolly Mammoth to lick your cum off your floor, no matter how much they like doing each other from behind.
Plus lesbians have the scissor position, because of course you want to think about sharp cutting metal while rubbing your genitals together!
Also the BC people were geniuses, they didn’t just know Jesus was coming, they new when! Or how else did they know to count the years backwards? “oh shit, its 0001 BC, we better get our fucking, stealing and murdering out of the way, Jesus is coming in a year and I have a feeling he is going to ruin it all!” Thus starting the tradition of New Years debauchery!!! Thanks BC people, you don’t get the respect you deserve.
True story: On New Year Eve 1999/2000 I was at a party which sucked ball sack, and I was still in my pathetic shy stage (read I wasn’t getting even close to any girls) and so with five minutes left in the 1900s I decided to play my trump card, hope like fuck some girls would get so enthused about this infamous event that they would just, you know, grab a strange shy boy and give him a midnight kiss. So I purposely positioned myself next to three cute girls, and as the count down began, turned to face them ‘come to mamma’ (if mamma = loser) and to my shock, instead they made out with each other, one by one. And as much as I would like to see a couple of girls cut each others vaginas out with scissors, THIS display of lesbianism was merely crushing.
Later I ran into some guy fingering one of these girls on the beach the party was at in front of about a thousand people.
But don’t worry, only about a year and a half later, I DID get my first kiss of the 2000s, hell fucking yeah, the fact that this girl was making out with another dude within minutes of me was only slightly crushing. (Thanks for the warning cave men and BC pricks)
Note to self: Next time you’re at this same party and you and your friend meet two girls, one of which is proudly wearing a t-shirt that says ‘Sexpert’ on the front, choose to be the one of the two of you that says ‘If your really a sexpert prove it’ instead of the one thinking ‘you asshole, no way that will work, and you’ll just piss both these girls off’ because it turns out the one that says ‘prove it’ will soon be getting a blow job in the adjacent woods, and that’s not you
I am actually a member of sexual fetish group, we’re not weird or anything, we just like fucking dolphins in their head holes. Oh come on, don’t get mad at me, have an open mind, actually that’s why we like the dolphins, because they are literally open minded (get it, cause they have holes in their head!!!!! Hell you know yeah).
Also why do some guys like getting blow jobs while driving their car? Where the fuck are you going that you can’t pull over to enjoy having your dick sucked you selfish pricks. Plus can I come to this place you’re going, sounds like a fun time.
Oh by the way, is there a sporting team you hate? If so I’m now offering my special skills as a sport team jinxer.
Here is my record
North Sydney Bears: I was the biggest fan in the world (no exaggeration) they were kicked out of the competition after making the play offs 8 of the past ten years, and despite being over a hundred years old (long, angry story)
Arsenal: I went to see them twice while in England in two different seasons, both times they recorded the loss which was later widely considered to be the losses which cost them the title
Seattle Supersonics: I went to see them and they were dead in a couple of years
LA Lakers: I went to see them and the same year Magic Johnson got AIDs
Northern Spirit: Aussie soccer team, I bought a season ticket and within two years not only were they dead, but the entire competition was shut down for good
A lot more minor ones I can’t be bothered to list.
I am taking bids, give me money to become a fan of a team you hate and I’ll check them out and DESTROY THEM. (I can't promise to give their star player AIDs but I can sure try hard)
My mind is much frazzled today, can you tell? Not my normal focused insanity, just frazzled.
By the way brushing your teeth with broken glass is only a two birds one stone scenario if you have some left over broken glass AND are mad at your teeth and gums. I am so sick of people coming up to me and saying they killed two birds with one stone last night by brushing their teeth with broken glass and then it turns out they were only using up broken glass, but felt no ill will towards there teeth and gums (why does spell check want to change gums, do gums not really exist, have i just made that up and been using it for years and no one knows how to tell me, ok now I'm freaked out), get your clichés right you assholes.
Anyone doing anything exciting today?
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