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Sunday, 7 September 2003
CHECK IT
so i finalll finished a new comic strip project. check it out here pigentrails.com also dont forget to exercise your right to VOTE OH, and DO NOT see the movie "Cabin Fever"
Posted by pudbat
at 4:12 PM EDT
Updated: Sunday, 14 September 2003 12:37 AM EDT
Friday, 29 August 2003
Someone once told me they like this one:
Two stapels are in a deep, scarring wound. One says to the other, "Man I cant keep all this puss from leaking out all over the pants." "Me neither, but that doesn't stop me from believing that I can make a difference. This wound is gonna heal eventually, dammit!" Then a third staple says, "We're attached to an oozing sore! I thought this was a pile of papers! I feel sick! Get me out of here! HELP!"
Posted by pudbat
at 10:31 AM EDT
Thursday, 28 August 2003
Pretty Mouth and Pooh In My Eyes
So when I take a poop, I don't gag on the odor. In fact, sometimes I'm plain old intrigued by it. Sometimes it seems to smell identical to what went in. So I was sitting on "the can" the other day, pondering an age old question:
"Is there a way to get yourself to gag from smelling your own pooh?"
Certainly, other people's pooh, especially babies', makes me want to retch in the worst way possible. Even dog doo will cause a pretty violent reaction in my craw. Gagging, salivating, and gasping for a shred of fresh air, I wander around aimlessly till I recover. But why does this same reaction never occur when the pooh odor in the air is my own. Does my body know its own pooh? Either that is the case, or my body prepares itself for an onslaught of otherwise gag inducing odors. If the latter is true, I could avoid my violent reactions to dog pooh odor by simply taking a crap whenever I see dog pooh, shielding myself from the enemy scents. But this seems not just entirely unsanitary, rude and bizzare, but also highly unlikely to be very effective. I believe that the real truth is probably that there is something contained within our own pooh that allows us specifically to tolerate it.
I propose an experiment, and I speculate its results:
If one were to pooh into a tupperware, and then set said tupperware in the refridgerator, would the creator of this pooh still recognize it as their own days, weeks, months, even years later? This may terrify some, but I believe that one could. My poo is my own and it will obey its master. My poo will never turn on me. It would not think to cause me pain, suffering or discomfort. I trust my poo, as you all should. It is yours.
Therefore, I speculate that if one were to remove said tupperware from the fridge years later and crack it open, they may wonder if they just farted, for that aroma will seem theirs as it did on its day of creation. A true partner, never to disobey.
Posted by pudbat
at 11:13 AM EDT
Go to the punishing flame. Repent!
Two priests are in the bathroom.
One takes a crap so big it lifts him about three feet above the toilet seat.
The other says, "How's the air up there?"
Posted by pudbat
at 10:55 AM EDT
Of course it was the drugs...
So we hit them and watched Ghostbusters till I got too freaked out about wether or not I was going to get a ticket for parking in a four-hour zone (we were well into the fourth hour). And when I go to move my car, there's this old man walking in the sidewalk and the way I parked my car in the driveway, it was sitting out into the sidewalk quite a bit, and he was all, "I'm gonna kick you frikkin eyeballs out! I killed your type in the war! I'll come over there and break your neck! I gotta walk here! You frikkin sh*theds! This car better be moved when I come back here!" I was so wasted, I got so scared that I had to move the car, even though I was told he was just crazy and it was no big deal. Cause I was wasted. I got so freaked out, I spent the rest of the day trying not to look freaked out. I must have looked wierd.
Posted by pudbat
at 10:53 AM EDT
Wednesday, 6 August 2003
Phantasm V - Unity Among Zombie Dwarves!
Two death-spheres wander into an unexplored section of the mosoleum. In it, they find a sleeping janitor. He rustles about in his slumber and makes short nasal grunts.
One death sphere looks at the other and says,
"How much brains do you think I can bore out of this sleeping fleshpile?"
The other replies, "I'm one of the lavender ladie's breasts!"
"What are you talking about?"
"If you had brains, I'd bore them out of you!"
"I'm bored of boring."
"Eight pounds, max."
"You're on."
And so the intrepid death-sphere descended onto its unaware victim, extracting roughly 3.8 lbs. of cerebral material.
"This guy's brain makes dinosaurs look like the Leader from the Hulk."
"You're stupid. I'm a breast."
Posted by pudbat
at 1:49 PM EDT
Wednesday, 30 July 2003
Singing in the raint-a-sainter.
So I was in the area this past week. That is the NEPA region. I had some friends visit. They make this thing now, everyone does it, where you put a beercan into a chicken's butt. I guess it was o.k. I had some, but I preferred to play horseshoes. Doing a kegstand doesn't really get you any more drunk, but it sure does make a party more lively. I did one, and I weigh about 200 lbs. It was funny. I got beer up my nose. There was a guy there who got half naked and started singing songs all night. He's funny.
Speaking of singing, I was having a conversation with some people about the "music scene" of the region. I'm not sure what the current situation is, although alot of the locals I met seemed to make a big distinction between cover bands and original music. I used to live in the CLEveland, and there were live bands and then there were Jukeboxes and dance clubs. The idea of a cover band was kind of a joke. Something that appeared at a wedding or highschool prom.
So how does one cultivate a strong independant "original" music community in an area that has low expectations and no Guitar Center and no thriving indie cd store? How do you get people interested in "new" or "other?" Can it even happen?
There's a show at Cafe Metropolis on Aug. 17th. Mt. St. Helens and The Ghost. Two fine bands. Please go see them and make sure that you tell the management that you liked the show if you do.
When I was in highschool we had a band called Weave. Pretty good. The members were involved in Proofrocks, the cafe/bookstore/venue. They brought in an inquisitive young crowd. Other shows were at pizzarias, art galleries, and roller rinks.
Liquor laws are ruining the potential for good music in NEPA. The Staircase in Pittston attempts to solve this problem, but makes seeing bands and drinking a comprimise of sorts. In the CLE, a handstamp got you beer, lack of one got you soda.
Is beer really central to the success of a music scene? I'm not sure, but lotsa bands I saw loved to drink when they played. I like to have a beer when I see a show. However, like I said, a bit of a sparkling indie music scene blossomed in the mid 1990s and involved no beer whatsoever.
Any suggestions? I'll probably try to write more off and on regarding this subject, but I'll leave it in the air for now.
What do you call an elephant having sex with a dog?
Heavy, barking and chock full of peanuts.
Posted by pudbat
at 4:48 PM EDT
Thursday, 10 July 2003
Who do you think you pooh?
Two stray dogs are in the back of a pickup truck parked on a mountaintop doing it "human style" when a thought occurs to the male:
"What if she's got herpes?"
He continues to make love to her, although a bit distracted. The female notices, thinking to herself:
"What if he knows I have herpes? He looks distracted."
They finish their romantic act and the male licks his balls vigorously, thinking: "Where's that stick I was chewing on earlier? I think I smell someone else's urine around here. Is that a tick on my neck?"
The female gnaws carefully on her front left leg.
Dogs can't put condoms on because they don't have fingers.
Posted by pudbat
at 11:45 AM EDT
Monday, 7 July 2003
sauce invaders
fiftyhalifax has the high score. can anyone beat him?check out his site
i made the archive section more user friendly so check that shiznit out.
VOTE
Posted by pudbat
at 11:53 PM EDT
Updated: Tuesday, 8 July 2003 12:01 AM EDT
Thursday, 3 July 2003
SO WHAT IS MY GOO?
Q: Just when you think it might be a little cooler outside. I got to the Walmart and the girl asked me "What's that t-shirt for?" and I told her that it was for this band called Mindflayer from Rhode Island. I feel bad 'cos she probably is going to try to look for it online and will have some trouble finding it. Probably not, but when she hears it, we'll see what she thinks. She'll probably love it, go out and buy a Korg and get busy with some drummer friend of hers. I got some itch to do some album reviews, so I think maybe I'll say this: The new Radiohead is pretty good, but I liked Amnesiac better, I think. I listened to it in the car along with new record from Pink & Brown and Ruins, who do this amazing medly of Black Sabbath songs. They go through like 20 in 2 minutes. That's funny! Again, just two people in a band. I read an article written by Ian Svenonious (sp?) from the Make-up about how music used to take lots of people to make and now complicated things can be done by one person. I think it's kind of bunk, 'cos Shostakovich did some pretty complicated thinking before he handed over the goods to the technicians. Now the technicians are computers. Don't be afraid of them. They can make pretty noises too.
A: I bought 75 lbs. worth of cast iron and a power strip.
Posted by pudbat
at 12:11 PM EDT
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