The world just changed again, again

One thing you may or may not know about me is that I am a bit of an inventor. Now I may not be a great inventor, but still I'll tell you, inventing is not as easy as it looks. In fact for a mere genius like me it's usually ‘very easy’ at the easiest, and often it’s only ‘kind of easy’. I mean consider these awesome inventions of mine that I found only ‘kind of easy’ to invent, and that have swept the nation, and even the globe:

- The idea that there should be a nation sized broom
- The idea that there should be a globe sized broom
- The idea for a robot big enough to operate a nation sized broom
- The idea for a robot big enough to operate a globe sized broom

Ever since I came up with these four amazing inventions the world has been in chorus with unity, singing my praises to the mountain tops, or for those with poor falsettos, the mountain middles, I mean who hasn't heard someone cry out 'when the fuck is someone going to build a giant robot building machine and a giant broom building machine, Dave's done his part for fucks sake, he can't do it ALL you lazy fucking dicks!'

And I appreciate this praise. Well I don't think all the swearing is necessary, but apart from that I think the main thing is they are focused on how great an inventor I am, and I fucking like that.

But today I surprised even myself. Yep I came up with another invention, and I did this one with even more ease than very easily, in fact I wasn't even trying to invent something. It just happened! By accident! And this invention, I believe, is something previously never even before imagined, let alone invented!

Wow!

Here is how it happened.

I was at the shops (indecently shops were invented by my great grandmother when she was asked by my great, great, grand uncle if he could borrow eighty bucks, and she regretted lending it to him so she immediately stole his iPhone from his plate glass window fronted home on Main St, which was the first time anyone had ever even considered that you could exchange money for goods in a glass fronted building. Inventing is in my blood I guess) and when I got back to the car from the shops I was suddenly struck - I'd done something I don't think anyone had ever even thought of before, let alone invented – I bought MORE than I planned!

Wow.

It was quite a task. It involved FOUR whole steps, steps that I think few would dare risk, and these steps were as follows:

1. Being some who had already invented lots of things
2. Accurately estimating the future earnings of these inventions to be exactly LOTS, making it worth the risk to wait till I got home before doing my own math on my purchases to double check the clerks weren't stupid.
3. Using that time to instead manically laugh in the face of people who don't have such guaranteed lots of money's coming in soon, people like the stupid clerks.
4. Being distracted by that and accidentally putting a couple of things in my cart from last week's shopping list, that's were NOT on this weeks.

And boom, I invented buying more than you planned. Who knew that was even possible? No one, that's who!

It was quite an amazing discovery. Frankly if I'd ever TRIED to invent this I think even I would have chickened out before implementing it, I mean there were so many obstacles I would have assumed I'd have to face, obstacles that would have panicked me with fear, such as:

- What if the shop clerk asks to double check my shopping list to make sure I didn't add anything to my trolley extra?
- What if I realize everything I wanted, as logic would suggest, was already on my shopping list?

No WAY I'd have taken risks like that in a real world scenario. Which really just speaks to the power of my mind, so determined to invent something that it also invented a way to invent a brief distraction in my brain, long enough to let me invent it. And now because of me, those of us with practically guaranteed big invention money can spend at will, financing ourselves up the kazoo (indecently one of my second cousin’s dad’s inventions, although he was TRYING to invent a plastic carrot, again inventing for others isn't always very easy) knowing we can pay it back later, and without the heavy pressure of making sure our shopping lists are flawless before we head to the shops!

Wow.

Still, and I know some of you have already realized, but not all inventions are one hundred percent good all the time. But for those of you have not yet discovered the flaw here, I'll let you idiots know with a traditional Q&A&How:

Q. What if the shops themselves discover this is possible also?

A. They could try and EXPLOIT this knowledge, that's what! Oh FUCK!

How would they exploit it? I don't fucking know, try and entice us to buy more stuff somehow or something, they can figure that out, I’m a mere genius, I can't fucking invent EVERYTHING can I?

What I can do however is this - invent a solution to this problem, so that THAT invention isn't even likely to happen, and the problem never even arises, and we can all feel safe to never, ever purchase more than we planned, unless we plan to do so on our own.

So here I go, phew, this might be hard, but I feel a responsibility, an invention to stop shops exploiting this new invention… wait I’ve got it:

- The idea that we should never tell the shops that over shopping is possible.

Boom!

Wow.

That was actually very easy, I truly am a great inventor. So go spread the word people, tell everyone you know to never ever tell shops that over shopping is possible! And once you’ve done that, hey come around to my place, I accidently bought a whole extra loaf of bread I didn’t need! Wow, even genius inventions sure can lead to craziness.

I've got beef

It just occurred to me that it’s very possible, if not likely, that one day soon every single person on earth on the same exact and totally random day, will start claiming they are NASA astronauts who just today hastily returned to earth having remembered they may have forgotten to take their favorite hat off their list of least favorite things listed as a favorite on their own specific respective list, and need to rectify this immediately or else their detailed list system may start seeming practically pedantic to some people, and they consider themselves more precise than pedantic and don't fucking LIKE being called names that are only 'close' to reality, don't like it at ALL!

In fact the more that I think about it the more I'm sure that it's almost certain to happen. 

Well fuck you everyone on earth. I don't like that at ALL. That’s TOTALLY going to spoil my long campaigned mission to start a one off - every single person on earth, (except one person), on the same exact and totally random day, will start claiming they are NASA astronauts who just today hastily returned to earth having remembered they may have forgotten to take their favorite hat off their list of least favorite things listed as a favorite on their own specific respective list, and need to rectify this immediately or else their detailed list system may start seeming practically pedantic to some people, and they consider themselves more precise than pedantic and don't fucking LIKE being called names that are only 'close' to reality, don't like it at ALL! day. 

Damn it. I was looking forward to that. Fuck. 

I bet this is the work of Geoff, fuck you Geoff, and get this, if my day takes off you now get to be the ‘except one person’. 

Ok, I feel good now. Beef out. 

Today in pet hates

Here's one I think we'll all agree with...

Don't you hate it when you're riding along innocently on your bike, with a joyful hope in your soul, and with a jolly song in your heart, and a jing-jing merry spring on your breath, when SUDDENLY you get shoulder-barged off your bike by a giant scorpion that smells of lycra halfway though its production cycle, and with twelve arms, each of which have a human face on the end, and each face is a different sibling from a family who's wealthy parents have recently passed away and left all their considerable fortune to 'which ever kid argues the loudest and meanest for it', and it wearing a scary skeleton outfit, but then when people see your scratched and bruised arms and knees they don't believe it happened because apparently 'there's no such thing as a bike'.

I think we ALL hate that. But I have a solution - simply make that scorpion your pet, and you'll now have a loving, snuggly pet hate! 

The inevitable future

The light alighted above her head. She could feel the glow. But she did not take a look right away. She needed to steel herself first. It's not that she had not done the work. Diets. Gym. Tanning. Fashion. She'd done them all over the years. For this. In search of this moment. And here it was.

She took a deep breath. Closed her eyes. Turned her head upward and slowly let her eyelids pry open. 

It WAS true.

The light was green.

This was the moment. Seventeen years since the invention of the technology. Fourteen years since the scanners were put on every human. Dozens of incidences of seeing others have their lights turns green. And now it was HER time.

This was HER scientifically judged, proven and registered most attractive minute of her life. This was a fact. She'd never looked as good. She'd never look as good again. This was her peak. Her beautiful summit of beauty. 

She smiled. Taking it in. Feeling the glow. Feeling excited. Feeling gorgeous. Feeling on top of the world! 

She closed her eyes again. And smiled. Briefly. She opened them again and looked into the mirror. Her smile beamed. Her teeth soaked in the green light. And she made sure she enjoyed every second of this. 

However, just as she thought life could never be this good again, as her smiled stretched wider than it had ever been before, the pressure on her cheek skin slightly tinged a pore or two, and the light turned back off. Never to aluminate again. 

She turned around. Paused for a moment. Then reached for some toilet paper to finish wiping. Then pulled up her pants and walked towards a dark unknown.

Cozy Cozy and Conveniently Convenient

It's my super fun, super new, and newly super fun new invention! It's called - a Pet Hat. They're ace! 

Here's how to make one. 

Step one: Simply take a 'pet hate', and extract the last 'e' from it. 

Step two: Do six years for in jail for drug manufacturing.

Step three: Realize the past six years were a wasted hole from your existence, and they were a deserved hole, due to your previous scroungful influence on society via your evil flooding of the consumerable options available to a fickle and easily influenced public, with (hush hush ...) DRUGS!

Step four: Pick something off the ground, ask yourself two questions 1. Could that be a hat? 2. Could that be a pet? Then answer 'yes' to both of those. Then ask yourself a third question 3. Could it therefore be a pet hat? Then also answer 'yes' to that. Then make that thing your pet hat.

Step five: Figure out how to take care of this pet hat (taking care of may include such things as: love, grooming, vet trips, having the lining re-sewed, teaching it to feel confident and playful at the local pet hat park, and more). Once you've mastered these skills now declare this pet hat a 'practice pet hat', I mean you picked that thing randomly off the ground, who knows what diseases it may have? Now pick out something even better than that last thing to be used as a pet hat (I recommend a cat and/ or dog specially bred into the shape of a hat) and make THAT your pet hat! A real pet hat, and NOT a practice pet hat this time. You've already done the practice thing. How much fucking practice do you need? 

Step six: Never have a bitterly cold and loveless to the point of shivering loneliness, head and/ or hat stand and/ or pet bed again! 

Pet hats, they're ace. So go, get, shoo, shoo off and go get one! Oh and let's soon have a pet hat play date! Well, you know, in six years or so, you drug manufacturing cunt! 

Making Money Easy - a poem

I'm not a gambler.

But I can tell you this. 

If you can stick a can of Coke up your butt, only when you pull it out it's now a Pepsi.

Then you never need lose a bet again!

If you can stick a can of Coke up your butt but when you pull it out it's now a tennis racket!

Then you won't even need to make bets to make money, you can just open a store selling tennis rackets!!

But if you stick a tennis racket up your butt and when you pull it out it's a can of Coke.

Then you have a serious medical condition, and should seek help immediately. 

Flat Roads

Gerald was the type of guy who liked to take chances. 

'Chances' being what the neighborhood kids called the free condoms at the free clinic next to the expensive pizza place - 'Chances Italiano'.

'Chances' not being what Gerald would EVER take when it came to pregnancy. 

Not again.

Not since that stripper he'd banged had extorted tons of cash from him to pay for her abortion or else. 

He should have known better when he met her.

Her name WAS 'Chances' after all.

They weren't very diverse when it came to naming things in Gerald's town, Riskville. 

But it was a fun town to live in, and therefore a small price to pay.

As long as you didn't mind living near the local Nuclear Waste Dump, that was next to giant snake breeding facility, that was next to the 'Free All Caged Animals' activist headquarters, who had a share occupancy deal in their office building with the 'Society To Help All Activist Groups, And Also We Have Seven Flesh Eating Aliens Captured And Locked Up, But It Doesn't Feel Right To Us, We'll Probably Release Them Soon' group, with said building located right on top of the world's first volcano readying to erupt with billions of dead fish heads. 

Also the housing was cheap. 

Especially if you rented through one of the two local real-estate firms, 'Chances Reality' or 'Chances Houses'. 

Just don't go with the national chain 'First Roof'.

They MAKE you get insurance.

What a waste of money. 

Confounded Attack - A Poem

Stan was smacked in the head with a meteorite. 

But by the time it struck his temple it had disintegrated to barely the size of a grain of sand.

And left a mark barely red enough for people to think he had a pimple.

And it fetched a market rate of barely enough money to buy a hamburger, let alone retire on. 

Therefore despite his desperate prayer being answered to its exact request.

Stan still had no excuse to get out of work on stock take day.

And another of gods children was needlessly lost from the flock, storming off with an internal monologue of scorn and contempt.

Yet Peter down the hall, heading up Division Seventeen of prayer answering, STILL kept his job.

He really is a nice dude that God.

Way too fucking nice. 

While you were out

Expert Contestant: Gumption, halitosis, joulike, numstae, mirchewood, Slick, Xinphole, Glunky, Darnsimple, kwin, Steve, Twiddly, um, Lincostyne, Youltide, Wayne...

Host: Yes folks, that's fifteen, and therefore John takes the round! Congratulations. 

Coming up after the break, can our experts come up with even MORE names here on "Stupid Names For Awesome Things, Awesome Things Like Igloos Made Out Of Zebra Dreams, Paper Mache Newspapers With Stories Of Machete Attacks, and Other Awesome Things, and Stupid Names For Those Things, Names Like Parenthesis and Woostishere, and Other Stupid Names Like That" you bet they can, we think, based on history, at least FOUR more!

And now a message from our sponsors...

Commercial voice over with relevant imagery: Hello everyone, let's face it, the world can be a tough ride, and it leaves most of us feeling warn out and disheveled from time to time, and as someone who's been there also, well let me guess - you desire to soak your weary bones in a nice relaxing bath of urine? 

I knew it. 

However, if your significant other hears you moot this excellent plan, and in a show of bizarre apprehension, replies something the equivalent of - 'you want to bathe in urine? In OUR bath? In our home? The bath I use frequently? Sounds cool, go ahead, only one thing, I think you might be underestimating how much urine that'll take to fill it, want me to grab you a beer from the fridge?' 

Well then I think you're going to need to ask yourself the following questions:

1. Do I perhaps need to find myself a less negative and more supportive significant other? 

2. Is there somewhere ELSE I can bathe in almost pure urine without the horror of the ordeal of having to drink the six or seven beers required to make that much urine myself? 

3. Is that a pussy amount of beers for me to be describing it as a 'horror of an ordeal'?

4. Would that have been better phrased as a simply a 'horrible ordeal'?

5. Um, I feel like I should ask five questions, but I can't think of another one, is that ok? 

And the answer to all five of those questions is the same answer - 'YES'! And the solution to all of the issues raised is the same as well - 'why not try a public fountain!'.  

Public fountains are chock full of urine, from a variety of sources, so you can soak till you are as tender as a urinal cake, they make excellent attentive lovers, will never ever question your grammar or spelling, especially when you've gone for 'cool sounding' over technically correct, and are covered in graffiti, some of it posed as questions, so you'll never have to think of them yourself anymore! 

Yep - public fountains are swell, try one today! 

Please note: Opinions and observations in this ad are merely opinions and observations as opinioned and observed by the opinion and observation department put in charge of this ad, and you personally may find your local fountain to be to instead merely 'richly populated' with urine, at best 'wonderfully passionate' lovers, often 'rude and pretensions as all fuck' when it comes to your use of language, and covered in more statement oriented graffiti. But we think even in those far more dire sounding scenarios that a public fountain will easily improve your life in every way imaginable. 

This message was brought to you by 'The Society Public Fountain Proliferation', still dedicated to our now seven thousand three hundred and twelve year strong goal of making the world one huge public fountain, and still struggling to get even half way to that goal, and make sure that public fountains remain valuable, relevant and beloved in a world increasingly focused on water conservation instead of beautiful expressions of sculptured art with water, and homes instead of places people would drown if they tried to sleep. What the fuck is wrong with people? 

Host: Welcome back to "Stupid Names For Awesome Things, Awesome Things Like Igloos Made Out Of Zebra Dreams, Paper Mache Newspapers With Stories Of Machete Attacks, and Other Awesome Things, and Stupid Names For Those Things, Names Like Parenthesis and Woostishere, and Other Stupid Names Like That" Hope you enjoyed the break. 

Next in the hot seat is regular expert Kathy, are you ready: 

Kathy: Yes! 

Host: Your awesome thing is... A Hat Made From Hairs Blown Off A Lama With A Hairdryer That Was Crafted From Golf Ball Innards, can you come up with at least fifteen stupid names for something THAT awesome? 

Kathy: Unfortitan, Ourx, Onjki, Gurthink, Firedly, Constatine, wow I'm on a roll, I might break the mythical century here! Wait, Mythicanal, Centrumtank, Shelly, Brekni....

Pulsating Choices

Roger danced like a swan, swanning on like a swan that was swan dancing up a storm that would soon rain down with such swan like volume that said swan was destined to soon have new places to swim for a whole month, although so would swans other than this swan, who despite being swans who were just as swanny as this swan, and therefore capable of swan dancing up storms themselves, had left it to this original swan to do all the work, and yet were more than happy to enjoy the rewards, with barely a hint of gratitude, which is why Roger was now swanning on like a swan that was swan dancing up a storm so intense that these other swans that had failed to swan dance themselves, would soon be swan lightninged to a crisp!  

Stephanie, watched on, mouth agape, now becoming concerned, forlorned and disenchanted, as she was beginning to wonder if this holistic healer was not going to cure her husbands recent decapitation after all. And she was going to have to, reluctantly, abandon her hippy ideals and accept the help of regular modern medicine. 

Although, really, how numb skulled and damn stupid can someone be, how utterly and completely devoid of basic common sense? I mean what kind of idiot goes to an Holistic Dance Surgeon named 'Roger'? 

On top - a poem

Tilley was looking at a bird. 

He was jealous of birds. 

After six leg breaks, two snapped cruciate knee ligaments, three rotted out fibulas (one of the replacements rotted too), and worst of all one nasty ingrown toenail, all over the course of four painful years, the thought of flying seemed like a dream.

Also he was jealous of their feathers, they reminded him of tickling, tee he he.

But the flying was the real desire. 

A wish he'd wished for at every wishing well he'd seen since before he even noticed the developing second rot. 

And now. 

As he looked at this bird.

With his desire bubbling like a wishing well being boiled from a volcano below it (ultimately melting all those coins, what a waste. Who the hell digs a wishing well without first getting a full geological study done?). 

This wish miraculously came true. 

He could suddenly fly like an eagle, that had eaten an angel, that had been conceived in the jet-stream of bee. 

'Wow, ace' he thought as he soured over a majestic river leading to a beautiful deserted beach, 'this is going to make it easier to get to the Cathedral every afternoon to tell God off for never, ever, ever, EVER letting anything good happen to me, WAY easier' he thought. 

'Suck on that God, you cunt!' He screamed as he watched a pod of orcas swim by a previously undiscovered reef which was so vibrant it made the Great Barrier look like squished cockroach. 

Meanwhile the wife of the dead guy who'd provided him with two fresh, and one flawless, fibulas sat at home forlorn while STILL awaiting her thank-you card. 

She was soon giggling though.

Her new beau was ticking her with a feather. 

He'd just plucked it from her pet bird which had just died. 

But she didn't know that yet, so our ending remains cheerful.

Cheerful as a bee sitting proud on-top a bronzed eagle sculpted from melted coins, with a smile on its face, as it watches his bee mate sucking pollen from flowers, totally unaware that two angels are fornicating in its wake. 

Awww. 

Send Your Stupidity To The Grave With Dave

Hi Kids, how are you today. My name is "Dave The Stupidity Grave", and I have been invited to come to talk to you here at your school assembly today, to teach you another way to stop you looking stupid all the freakin’ time.

Doesn’t that sound like fun? Let me hear you all scream yaaaaayyyyyy.

‘YYYYAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY’

Awwww, thanks kids.

Now here is a fact kids, from time to time, depending on where you live, especially if you live stupid places like England, where this happens all the time, and irrelevant of whether you deserve it or not (and let’s face it most of you DO deserve it, I’ve seen where your gross dirty little fingers have been) something remarkably horrible happens in the world! OOoohooohhhhh.

‘What is it?’

I hear you ask. Well shut up, I’m getting to that. Obviously. Why would I be invited to come talk to you and not be planning on getting to the thing that I was brought in to talk about? Stop looking like such idiots kids.

Yep, that’s right. The remarkable thing is that sometimes water can fall from the sky, something adults call “rains” or “raining” or “sky wee-wee”!!!!

‘Oh noooooo!’

I hear you all exclaim. And that’s a SMART thing to exclaim, good for you, you’re already, wait for it, sending STUPIDITY TO THE GRAVE WITH DAVE. Yell it out.

‘STUPIDITY TO THE GRAVE WITH DAVE!!!’

Well you were actually supposed to say, “we’re sending stupidity to the grave with Dave”, but that’s ok, you can’t be completely devoid of foolhardiness yet, you are only dumb little kids after-all. Here’s another chance to look at least capable of grasping a simple fact and the reality of the consequences of that fact, all together yell out, what happens when it rains?

‘We get completely drenched in wet stuff, which soaks into our hair, clothes, and the sandwich we were eating, and then when we eventually go inside people look at us like we are completely frickin’ stupid, and say things to us like “oh is it raining outside”, or “someone forget to bring a raincoat”, or even “let me guess, it’s raining and you didn’t bring an umbrella, I have a sixth sense about these things” and it makes us want to punch them in the fucking throats, I mean obviously you dicks, and it makes us mad, and sad for how lame and cliché most people are, and feel like we are being treated like stupid doody heads!’

Yes, well done kids. You’re right. Well, I wouldn’t have said “wet stuff”, its actually called “water”, you morons, but other than that all four hundred and twenty seven of you were one hundred percent correct. And no one likes being called stupid do they?

‘Nooooooooooo’.

Correct! It’s rude, it’s derivative, it’s unhelpful, and it’s mean, and I don’t want you kids to EVER feel like someone is treating you that way, especially by an adult who should know better, and who should be helping kids improve their self-esteem, and their self-confidence, because children are the future, and if you “believe” that you are little morons, what hope do you have of growing up to be intelligent, dignified, and poised adults who make the communities they live in better places to be for all who occupy the same environment?

‘Almost none at all, in fact, it’s these repeated patterns of failure and ineptitude, which hold back communities, societies, nations and even the globe itself’.

Exactly kids.

So what if I told you, that next time you get caught in the rain, and end up with “water” all over you, that you no longer have to face the inevitable judgment which comes attached like the carriages on a train?

‘We don’t believe it, there is nothing that could stop that, it is our lot in life, a reality we face every time the clouds swell with darkness above us, like a three legged dog, a fourth limb shall never grow, the best we can do it try to carve out some form of satisfactory existence that lives concurrently with our pain!’

Oh kids. You dumb little idiots. There IS a solution.

‘There is? There IS! Tell us!!! Please fucking tell us!’

My god, didn’t we go over this already? I am Dave the Stupidity Grave, I wasn’t fucking invited to your assembly to NOT give the solutions. Have some freakin’ patience. Man, you’re parents must fucking HATE you.

Ok, ok, I’ll tell you.

Here goes…

When you get caught in a rainstorm…

‘Yes, yes, yes’

You get wet…

‘Yes we do, very wet’

But what you can do with this wetness is…

‘Tell us, please!!!’

Is DRY it off!

‘No WAY! That’s impossible!’

No it’s not, it’s imimpossible!

‘That’s not a real word!’

Yeah I know, it just kind of came out of my mouth without thought, but seriously, no one likes to be told when they’ve made a mistake kids, whoever taught you that should be shot, was it your parents? Let’s shoot them in the face. But still, it IS possible!

‘But how?’

Now you’re asking the smart questions. There are in fact, and this will shock you, FOUR different ways you can get dry.

‘FOUR!!!!’

Yep four. And because I am a nice guy, and because I am being paid handsomely for this, I am going to tell you ALL FOUR.

‘Yaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy!!!’

Once you are saturated with rain “water” you may simply do one of the following:

Number One: This one’s easy. I call it the “forget you can’t see curtains” method. Humbly knock on the house of a stranger, or even a friend. Ask to come inside. If they say “no” kick them in the shins and go inside anyway. Now try and spot somewhere that has a window, a fun tip is to look for where light that doesn’t feel electric seems to be coming from. Obviously this doesn’t work at night, but that’s ok, it rarely rains at night. Now ask if you can “look out the window”. If they say “no” kick them in the shins and go towards the window anyway. Now rub your wetness all over the curtains while pretending that you can’t see them, and don’t even know what a curtain is. Adding dialogue like “why can’t I see out the window, there is literally nothing in front of it, nothing at all, so this must be some sort of conspiracy. What are you motherfuckers playing at” will help sell your story. Once you’ve rubbed all your water all over the curtains now ask them to fix you some food. If the food they make looks gross, kick them in the shins and run away.

Number Two: This one’s tranquil. I call it the “fun ride”. Simply head to an amusement park on ‘we think it may be someone’s birthday today day’. Hope like fuck that they thought correct. Spot the birthday kid. Push him to the ground and steal his bouquet of balloons. Hold them close to you and pull out your knife and start popping them one by one letting the exploding air dry you to the bone. Once you are dry go on a few rides. I bet they’ll be fun! Please note, the other side of the balloons you’re stabbing may be your hand, if you stab your hand and it bleeds, just rub it off on the birthday kids shirt, he won’t care, he’s getting presents. You’re not, why should he get them but not you? It’s a fucking conspiracy.

Number Three: This one’s exciting. I call this one “it smells good too”. Overtly take off all your clothes. Grab a lighter. And light your chest hair on fire. Let it burn until the searing hairs dry you off!

Number Four: This one’s a little strange. Well okay, a LOT strange. I call this one “do it if you have to, but don’t tell anyone you did, you’re trying to stop them saying annoying things to you, making fun of you, and thinking you’re stupid, so looking strange instead is NOT going to help”. Grab an item called a “towel” and rub, or “towel” your wetness with said “towel”. If you’re still wet then “towel” more. If someone catches you and says “what you doing, toweling or something” kick them in the shins and run away yelling “it’s a conspiracy god damn it!”

That’s right kids, master any of these things, and you don’t have to worry about rainstorms ANYMORE!

‘Wow, wow, wow, wow, yaayyy, wow, you’ve finally made our futures seem positive, thanks Dave, thanks SOOOOO much!’

Awww, no, thank YOU kids. By which I mean fucking say what you’re supposed to say.

‘Thanks to Dave, we’ve sent our stupidly TO THE GRAVE!!!’

Yaaaaay. Well that’s it for me kids. But I will be back. Next assembly I’ve got something very exciting for you kids. What do you do with your knee scabs?

‘Pick em and eat em, obviously’.

Ahhh, you idiotic little fools, there’s at least ONE other option, and when I come back I am going to… Send that Stupidity To The Grave, with DAVE!

‘Yaaaaaaayyyy’.

Friendship - A Poem

Friendship - a poem 

Diamonds are a girl's best friend

They'll last with her till the very end

Dogs are a man's best friend 

For true love, they can rely on them

And a dog that eats a diamond 

Is a surgical veterinarian... 's best friend

The bill for removing that stone will be so damn huge the vet will probably be able to buy a big ass boat or something!