Merry #@*!%!$! Hannachristkwanzaamaskuh

It's not a huge secret that I don't especially love Christmastime, or the other assorted winter holidays associated with peoples who will surely burn in the lake of fire rather than enjoying leisurely dinosaur rides with Jesus after they die. I think mostly what I don't like is the atmosphere of mandatory cheer. That, and the nearly inescapable barrage of pro-Christmas propaganda. I have some sympathy for what it might be like to live in a one-party state where every room has a picture of Glorious Leader in it. However, the good news is that celebrating the berfday of sweet baby Jesus leads to the kind of inadvertent hilarity that we like to celebrate around here. So, on that note, enjoy:


This pretty much speaks for itself as far as I'm concerned.

Hey, what's up with the human kid? I think Mrs. Predator's been getting a little action on the side.

Will do, Governor!


Yeah, yeah. I know. I ran this one a few posts ago. Still damn sexy.

Damn. That ladymanlady's got a rack!

Bossletoe!

Fashion Cage Match - PLAYOFF ROUND: People from New Jersey vs. People at a Sci-Fi Convention

Gentlemen, for your own sakes I hope you remain law-abiding at all times -because you are officially too damned pretty for prison.

But, if you should end up incarcerated, this guy will be there to meet you.

Guys, did you take a look in the mirror before you headed out for the evening?

I'm not sure how this is happening, but it's happening.

Beauty may only be skin-deep, but sometimes plastic surgery and steroid abuse go all the way through.

I think these guys are about to run in the Sci-fi Marathon. More power to 'em. I wonder if they call it "the Kessel run"?

Oompa loompa oopiddy doo.

Aye yai yai!

I still would like a further explanation about the "ease the seat back" spoken word soliloquy in Van Halen's "Panama." Creepy Jersey-edition David Lee Roth, would you care to explain?

I was wondering when Wonder Woman and Dr. Strange were going to finally get together. Oh wait, they live in two complete different comic book universes. He's from Marvel, she's from DC. I'm afraid that this photo is evidence of a very serious rift in the space-time continuum.

They start 'em young in Jersey.

Hello Vader.

Kid, unless your name is L'il Mama, I suggest you rethink the lip gloss strategy. Love the penciled-on beard though. Really butches it up for ya.

Your mom's costume remains awesome.

It's an old New Jersey tradition to celebrate Christmas by spray-painting your face orange.

Jedi Knights, on the other hand, honor baby Jesus with a delicious and wholesome meal from Taco Bell.

Speedo? Actually, spee-don't.
Please.


Sir, I'm afraid we're going to have cite you for wearing spandex without a license.
P.S. love the sandals. They say "action!"

This is what the Incredible Hulk would look like if he was from Jersey.

Fortunately, Tron Guy is here to protect us if the Jersey Hulk gets... angry. You wouldn't like him when he's angry.

Seriously, what is up with New Jersey guys and the lips?


Gentlemen, whatever your question may be (and I do mean whatever), the answer is a resounding "yes!"

Gimme Five

Ok, I know that posting videos is lazy blogging. But I'm gonna do it anyway. Try and stop me.

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

See more Will Ferrell videos at Funny or Die

Satan forced me to eat at McDonalds. And I kinda liked it.

I hadn't set foot in a Mickey D's for several years until last week. I was working away, plotting new and exciting ways to plunder the Spanish Main, when suddenly I was seized by a uncontrollable urge to walk through those golden arches and get me one of those filet-o-fish sammiches. I don't think I've eaten one of those since sometime in the late 80's. For reals, yo. At any rate, I did what I always do when confronted by temptation - yield to it immediately. I have to say, the filet-o-fish sammich ain't all that bad. I'm not going to go so far as to say that it was good - I mean, it's no Shamrock Shake. But not too bad.

Yesterday I was struck by the same yearning. Yep, that means I've been to Chez Ronald twice in a week now after years and years on the wagon. "What the hell is going on here?" I asked myself. Well, it's now becoming clear that Satan, in his never-ending quest to use me as an unwitting tool in his Diabolical Promotion of the Homosexual Agenda, has forced me to spend my hard-earned doubloons at Mickey Ds in order to make sure that a small group of nutburgers with deeply-rooted psychological issues are perpetually outraged. Observe:




Now, I'm not precisely sure what McDonalds has done to piss these folks off, but I'm gonna guess that their complaint is of the "your failure to hate the people that I hate constitutes a grave and unforgivable offense worthy of protest and boycott" variety. That, or they put larger stalls in the Mens' room to accommodate Senator Larry Craig's wide stance.

At any rate, if McDonald's has figured out a way to get these guys all in a lather, they must be doing something right. Anyone care to join me for a filet-o-fish and a shamrock shake?

Time to hit the books!

Although I've been busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest lately, I thought I'd relax with a few good books this weekend.


Hey, I think your mom did an awesome job modelling for this cover art. Tell her I said hi.


I hate to rip a fellow pirate, I think the highlander above has the better life. I'm just sayin'.



Why do you think they call it "dope"?

Ok, this the first time I've seen a backcover blurb that read "FULL OF MEAT!" Is this a book or a basement freezer?

Dammit! In a galaxy full of planets, I had crash on one that was full of #&$%*!! virgins!

Hey, Homicidal Virgin, maybe you can't get laid because you're too damn busy killing people. Here's my hint: less murder, more Barry White albums. Just a suggestion.

Sorry for the long absence. Been out scouring the high seas.

Alright, already. You're sick of coming here and looking at the world's manliest hairdresser. I got the message loud and freaking clear. But y'know what? The damn Spanish Main don't plunder itself! That's right, if I don't get up bright and early every morning, strap on an eyepatch and a cutlass and get out there and shiver some timbers, I don't get any dubloons. Welcome to the pirate economy.

The funny thing is, I've had a like a gazillion ideas for blog postings, and now that I have a chance to actually sit down and write I can't remember any of them. None of them involved funny pictures. Most of them involved rock and roll. Damn you, demon rum, you got my pappy but you won't get me.

Ok, here's a story. Once upon a time, I think it might have been 1996 or so, Admiral Nelson and I went to visit his brother at Michigan Tech, which is in Houghton, Michigan, which is in the Upper Penninsula (aka Da Yoop). Unlikely as it sounds, while we were up there, we visited The Gay Bar. It was awesome. Please enjoy the photographic evidence:

The Admiral shows his moves outside The Gay Bar. Sexy beast.

Oddly enough, I would have to characterize The Gay Bar's overall aesthetic as "not nearly gay enough."

Girl, I wanna take you to The Gay Bar.


Yep, they had a dart board. Who knew?

Start smoking, or this man will glare you into humiliating submission.

Damn, you can just about smell the testosterone and barely suppressed homicidal rage emanating right off the page. This may be the ultimate "Smoking: When You Just Don't Give a Shit Anymore" advertisement.

Sick of Awesome Album Covers Yet? Too Damn Bad!

I couldn't have made this up in a month of Sundays. The question in my mind is, what are songs for gay dogs? I'm seriously at a loss here, friends. Next question: who the hell is Paddy Roberts and why haven't we made him Supreme Overlord of the Known Universe yet?