Technology: Making things that were incognizable as clear as mud. Remarkably simple and sensible, the mud that makes it clear is mixed with oil, psychoanalysis, haberdashery, corn cobs, pancake hammers, burgerfist unicorns, furry starfish gonads and other keywords that yield a miscellany of hilarity.
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Archive for May, 2005
Looking back to my childhood, I don’t like to label it his mid-obsolescence crisis. It’s not that he didn’t love his family; it’s just that he could never express his feelings. When he got angry and crashed, I knew it was just his way of saying I love you.
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My precious Video Game Console, you’ve always been there for me. You’ve made me laugh when I was sad, made me scream when you crashed before I saved my game. You made me caress your CD tray and whisper sweet nothings in your controller port after you fell off the TV stand. I want the voltages from your capacitors all over my body. We can bathe in level 12 eternity together. A tub. A console. Lots of hot, soapy water. High Voltages.
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So it turns out that the younger brother of the Really Gay Couch (see How-To: 05-06-05) has some skeletons in its cushions that have been festering since childhood.
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Subtlety is pretty sweet, but sometimes it’s even more fun to just shout, “Eiffel Tower!” at the top of your lungs. What a great architectural (cough) achievement. Ahem.
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<british>The battle between British and American grammar rages on, this time wreaking havoc in a quaint room not much unlike your own, the victim the RGC*. Not even Tony Blair’s twofer-turned-threefer reelection can stop the violence.</british>
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Corners may cause chafing. We recommend some talcum powder for your nethers. Not that we’re giving anything away before you read the comic, or anything, whatever, commas.
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