Funny?
You have no idea.
This clip is a bit longer than I like but damn, it’s worth watching.
The boys from the UK have done it once again.
Now there’s a surprise, huh?
Get some popcorn, cheese and crackers and a beer.
Maybe a Dublin ‘side car’ for good measure.
Good stuff, folks . . .

This is the first post of V 2.0 of Malarky Monday.
The chuckles aren’t going away folks but for now there will only be one blog (per week)
of the four of us that gets the nod from the cyberspacial dugout to post something absurd.
This week it’s my turn and I hope to make you chuckle or at the very least, smile.
Be sure to visit, Moe, Mark & Dilligaf for your daily dose of enlightenment.

This week is a mish-mash of things I happen to find quite funny.
Basically, a usual Malarky Monday for me.
Tune in here next week to see who’s posting the chuckles.

First up is a Chuck Norris-like kick in the proverbial muzzle of the repugnant ‘LOL Cats’
(aka, icanhazcheeseburger)
I personally love this pic . . .

Have you ever wondered why so many urban males wear their
over-sized bluejeans so goddamned low?
I have, too.
Jesus Krispies, their waistline is at the level of their knees for God’s sake.
How the hell do they not walk like penguins?
I think this picture explains it nicely, don’t you?

One .gif image for good measure;
Sodomy has never been funnier, methinks . . .

Last but certainly not least is a short video from a YouTube favorite of mine.
Check out Bad Mystic Cat . . .
(subscribe to Klaatu42 if you like these videos)

Happy Malarky Monday, folks!!!!

God willing, Pamela and I will be traveling to North Queensland, Australia in 2011.
It’s a long story as far as my newborn love of a country I’ve yet to see but know that
most of the story is already here on the blog.
Troll the tag ‘Australia’ and I think you’ll begin to see why.
We have taken into our hearts two people from the ‘Godzone’ and will be spending
three wonderful weeks with them this coming July.
That said, I found this essay tonight from a favorite writer of mine and thought it was worthy
of a pass along.
Adams has amazed me for years if only for his twists of ideas and language.
When I saw his thoughts on Australia, I had to share this.
It is, for the most part, a tongue-in-cheek look at a country/continent/ island  most of us barely understand.
Pamela and I feel like we’re getting close though.
And we love it, vegemite/Bundaberg and all.
I just want to see the Southern Cross.
Too much to ask?
I think not.
*btw-Pamela is not laughing about all the insects, spiders and other yukky, crawly things Downunder.
I told her, get a stick.

This is Douglas Adams and his deepest thoughts on Australia.

______________________________________________

Australia is a very confusing place, taking up a large amount of the Bottom half of the planet.
It is recognisable from orbit because of many unusual features,
including what at first looks like an enormous bite taken out of its southern edge;
a wall of sheer cliffs which plunge deep into the girting sea.
Geologists assure us that this is simply an accident of geomorphology and plate tectonics,
but they still call it the “Great Australian Bight” proving that not only are they covering up a more frightening theory, but they can’t spell either.

The first of the confusing things about Australia is the status of the place.
Where other land masses and sovereign lands are classified as either continent, island, or country,
Australia is considered all three.

Typically, it is unique in this.

The second confusing thing about Australia are the animals.
They can be divided into three categories: Poisonous, Odd, and Sheep.

It is true that of the 10 most poisonous arachnids on the planet, Australia has 9 of them.
Actually, it would be more accurate to say that of the 9 most poisonous arachnids, Australia has all of them.
However, there are curiously few snakes, possibly because the spiders have killed them all.
But even the spiders won’t go near the sea.

Any visitors should be careful to check inside boots (before putting them on),
under toilet seats (before sitting down) and generally everywhere else.
A stick is very useful for this task.

Strangely, it tends to be the second class of animals (the Odd) that are more dangerous.
The creature that kills the most people each year is the common Wombat.
It is nearly as ridiculous as its name, and spends its life digging holes in the ground, in which it hides.
During the night it comes out to eat worms and grubs.

The wombat kills people in two ways:
First, the animal is indestructible.
Digging holes in the hard Australian clay builds muscles that outclass Olympic weight lifters.
At night, they often wander the roads. Semi-trailers (Road Trains) have hit them at high speed, with all 9 wheels on one side, and this merely makes them very annoyed.
They express this by snorting, glaring, and walking away.
Alas, to smaller cars, the wombat becomes a symmetrical launching pad, with results that can be imagined, but not adequately described.

The second way the wombat kills people relates to its burrowing behaviour.
If a person happens to put their hand down a Wombat hole, the Wombat will feel the disturbance and think
“Ho! My hole is collapsing!” at which it will brace its muscled legs and push up against the roof of its burrow with incredible force, to prevent its collapse.
Any unfortunate hand will be crushed, and attempts to withdraw will cause the Wombat to simply bear down harder. The unfortunate will then bleed to death through their crushed hand as the wombat prevents him from seeking assistance.
This is considered the third most embarrassing known way to die,
and Australians don’t talk about it much.

At this point, we would like to mention the Platypus, estranged relative of the mammal,
which has a duck-bill, otter’s tail, webbed feet, lays eggs,
detects its aquatic prey in the same way as the electric eel,
and has venomous barbs attached to its hind legs,
thus combining all ‘typical’ Australian attributes into a single improbable creature.

The last confusing thing about Australia is the inhabitants.
First, a short history:
Some time around 40,000 years ago, some people arrived in boats from the north.
They ate all the available food, and lot of them died.
The ones that survived learned respect for the balance of nature, man’s proper place in the scheme of things, and spiders. They settled in, and spent a lot of the intervening time making up strange stories.
Then, around 200 years ago,
Europeans arrived in boats from the north.
More accurately, European convicts were sent, with a few deranged and stupid people in charge.
They tried to plant their crops in Autumn
(failing to take account of the reversal of the seasons when moving from the top half of the planet to the bottom),
ate all their food, and a lot of them died.

About then the sheep arrived, and have been treasured ever since.
It is interesting to note here that the Europeans always consider themselves vastly superior to any other race they encounter, since they can lie, cheat, steal, and litigate (marks of a civilised culture they say) – whereas all the Aboriginals can do is happily survive being left in the middle of a vast red-hot desert, equipped with a stick.
Eventually, the new lot of people stopped being Europeans on Extended Holiday and became Australians.

The changes are subtle, but deep, caused by the mind-stretching expanses of nothingness and eerie quiet,
where a person can sit perfectly still and look deep inside themselves to the core of their essence,
their reasons for being, and the necessity of checking inside your boots every morning for fatal surprises.
They also picked up the most finely tuned sense of irony in the world,
and the Aboriginal gift for making up stories.

Be warned.
There is also the matter of the beaches.
Australian beaches are simply the nicest and best in the entire world.
Although anyone actually venturing into the sea will have to contend with sharks,
stinging jellyfish, stonefish (a fish which sits on the bottom of the sea, pretends to be a rock, and has venomous barbs sticking out of its back that will kill just from the pain)
and surfboarders.
However, watching a beach sunset is worth the risk.

As a result of all this hardship, dirt, thirst, and wombats, you would expect Australians to be a dour lot.
Instead, they are genial, jolly, cheerful, and always willing to share a kind word with a stranger, unless they are an American.
Faced with insurmountable odds and impossible problems, they smile disarmingly and look for a stick.

Major engineering feats have been performed with sheets of corrugated iron, string, and mud.
Alone of all the races on earth, they seem to be free from the ‘Grass is Greener on the other side of the fence’ syndrome, and roundly proclaim that Australia is, in fact, the other side of that fence.
They call the land “Oz”, “Godzone” (a verbal contraction of “God’s Own Country”) and
“Best bloody place on earth, bar none, strewth.”
The irritating thing about this is they may be right.

There are some traps for the unsuspecting traveler, though.
Do not under any circumstances suggest that the beer is imperfect, unless you are comparing it to another kind of Australian beer.
Do not wear a Hawaiian shirt.
Religion and Politics are safe topics of conversation (Australians don’t care too much about either)
but Sport is a minefield.
The only correct answer to “So, howdya’ like our country, eh?” is ”
Best {insert your own regional swear word here} country in the world!”.

It is very likely that, on arriving, some cheerful Australians will ‘adopt’ you on your first night,
and take you to a pub where Australian Beer is served. Despite the obvious danger, do not refuse.
It is a form of initiation rite.

You will wake up late the next day with an astonishing hangover, a foul-taste in your mouth, and wearing strange clothes. Your hosts will usually make sure you get home, and waive off any legal difficulties with “It’s his first time in Australia, so we took him to the pub.”, to which the policeman will sagely nod and close his notebook.
Be sure to tell the story of these events to every other Australia, you encounter,
adding new embellishments at every stage, and noting how strong the beer was.

Thus you will be accepted into this unique culture.
Most Australians are now urban dwellers, having discovered the primary use of electricity, which is air-conditioning and refrigerators.

Typical Australian sayings:

* “G’Day!”

* “It’s better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.”

* “She’ll be right, mate.”

* “And down from Kosciusko, where the pine clad ridges raise their torn and rugged battlements on high, where the air is clear as crystal, and the white stars fairly blaze at midnight in the cold and frosty sky.
And where, around the overflow, the reed beds sweep and sway to the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide. The Man from Snowy River is a household word today, and the stockmen tell the story of his ride.”

Tips to Surviving Australia:

* Don’t ever put your hand down a hole for any reason whatsoever. We mean it.

* The beer is stronger than you think, regardless of how strong you think it is.

* Always carry a stick.

* Air-conditioning.

* Do not attempt to use Australian slang, unless you are a trained linguist and good in a fist fight.

* Thick socks.

* Take good maps. Stopping to ask directions only works when there are people nearby.

* If you leave the urban areas, carry several litres of water with you at all times, or you will die.

* Even in the most embellished stories told by Australians, there is always a core of truth that it is unwise to ignore.

See Also:
“Deserts: How to die in them”,
“The Stick: Second most useful thing ever” and
“Poisonous and Venomous arachnids, insects, animals, trees, shrubs, fish and sheep of Australia, volumes 1-42″

Welcome to Malarky Monday!
(the *I Spy edition)
This is the one day of the week that we offer up some
of the crazy stuff we find floating around the web.
We hope to make you giggle, spit, laugh, cry until it hurts and ultimately smile.
There’s nothing here that will take a boatload of time so be sure to visit
my fellows in hijinx!

Moe!
Morky!!
Dilligaf!!!

This week I ‘spied’ some serious and epic fails on the net.
Here are several leviathan food fails.
Anyone for some canned chicken?
I spy wicked disgusting.

How about a bacon rifle?
I wonder if it can fire a fried egg?
I spy a stupid guy way too proud of a pork product.

Or my personal favorite: Meat Water
Mmm, mmm, mmm
You just can’t beat the combination of ground beef and aged cheddar.
I didn’t even mention the ease of portability.
Got ketchup?
I spy a drink that’s light years away from thirst quenching.

Last but not least this hysterical cat clip.
I spy a seriously funny cat.

Happy Malarky Monday!

Anyone that visits here knows how much of a theme whore I used to be years ago.
I would change my theme 3X in one day, maybe even more.
(will someone make anonymum stop laughing?)
Definitely more times than I change my underwear.
I have calmed down a bit but today I saw what is currently up and said,
“Yup. It’s theme time!”
So if you’re wondering what happened, let’s just say my blog got a ‘face lift’
For now . . .
Be sure to check back for Malarky Monday!
And change those clocks!
Spring ahead.

Malarky Monday is HERE!

AND HERE!

AND HERE!

AND HERE!

You know the drill by now.
Watch, read, listen and [hopefully] LAUGH!
Visit the above links after your visit here and be sure to have some
paper towels to wipe off your computer monitor.

I originally intended to go all political this week but have decided against it.
I’m not wussing out, I just hate listening to a certain faction of people whine incessantly
about the small stuff, okay?
That said, here are some pics that had me howling at the mOOn, so to speak.
Happy Malarky Monday peeples!!!
Be sure to click on the linx above after your visit here.
Danke . . .

Hopefully, you’ve heard or seen Chris Farley,
the motivational speaker
from Saturday Night Live.
Saw this and busted two guts . . .

This geographical phenomenon has always bugged me as well.

My God, I hated my 8th grade English teacher.
She had legs that belonged on a Grand piano and no tits whatsoever.
No wonder I never got a hankering for Raymond Carver.
Bummer.
Thanks for nothing, Nancy . . .

Last but not least, I am chillin’ out
wit my gnomies . . .

Happy Malarky Monday!!!!

Welcome to Malarky Monday!
If you haven’t been here, done that and bought the t-shirt
we take the first day of the week to see if we can get you to one simple thing:
Smile!
It’s silly but we are having a hell of a time doing it.
This is our ‘Silver Anniversary’ week.
25 posts!
Be sure to visit my fellows in hijinx from the land of Oz after your brief visit here.

*Moe
*Morky
*Dilligaf

Thought I would bring back my little kitty friend from several weeks ago.
This time he’s had a bit too much catnip.
Seems he really likes the stuff.

And never, EVER, trust a kangaroo.
the sneaky, bloody bastards . . . 

Don’t leave home without these . . .
(wtf?)
Makes anything into a sandwich, huh?
Too bad they don’t have pumpernickel . . .

Last but not least . . .
Have you been to the movies lately?
Mmmm . . .  yeah, I thought so.

Happy Malarky Monday folks!
Be sure to visit my whacky friends!

Monday rolls around way too quick these days.
Where did the week go?
Poof.
That’s where.
Welcome to Malarky Monday!
This is the day of the week that a group of us (teh blogocracy) tries
to get you to giggle, spit, put a smile on your face or all three.
After reading my post, please visit my fellow cohorts for more Monday Mayhem.
This is ‘crazy shit’ week for me.
A potpourri of oddness and funky humor.
Sorry in advance about the f-bombs

There is nothing funnier than a cat wearing red sox.
Oh, wait a minute.
There is . . .

This is pretty much self explanatory but funny nonetheless.
Illegal downloading is a problem these days.
Still trying to download an English Bull Terrier . . .

Is this cat’s name Rocky?

And in closing a footnote to our wonderful government
(currently buried in 2ft of snow. cool, huh?)
((screw ‘em, they deserve it))

Now please visit my MM blogging buds!

Moe
Morky
Dilligaf

When faced with a choice between Saints and Colts, I am obviously going with the Saints.
I have nothing to lose with this Super Bowl but I do pray that Archie, Eli and Peyton Manning
eat a big ass plate of crow after the game.
Paytoilet is a great quarterback, can’t take that away from him, but I do hope he gets his clock cleaned early and often. (come on linebackers)
As far as Archie and his age old nepotistic tendencies regarding his sons?
Give me a freekin’ break.
Will he ever stop pulling the corporate strings?
CBS will undoubtedly show many pics of the shithead man during the game.
If you do a shot of metamucil everytime they show Archie (which they will) you will shit for
10 years straight.
Better off to stick with the Cuervo Gold.

Go Saints!

Please obliterate the pretentious Manning masheen once and for all.
See you guys next week.
I am outta here!

Welcome to Malarky Monday!
This is the one day of the week that ‘teh Blogocracy‘ tries to get you to smile and laugh
your way to work.
We are always looking for a few more crazy bloggers that think they have what it takes
to do one zany post a week.
Do you have what it takes?
Send me an email if you’re interested.
More traffic, more fun, more laughs.
This week I had to post something I found years ago on the net.
I laughed myself silly reading this.
It’s a review of a very old frozen TV dinner that doesn’t turn out too well.
It’s gross and disgusting and funny as all hell.
I did NOT write this and give total attribution to Mobius.

The Mexican TV Dinner from Hell!

“Being the poor, jobless, and hungry sap that I am,
I will often resort to eating things that I otherwise would not want to be eating.
Still, there is a point where I draw the line, and on this night, that point was most definitely reached.
It was 12pm and I was hungry.
After scouring the cupboards I found a package of Lipton fettuccini alfredo, but to my dismay we were out of milk, which was needed to make it. So I grabbed this TV dinner out of the back of the freezer.
I cooked it exactly as specified by the back of the box,
but still, this so-called dinner fell far short of my standards for an edible meal.
The first indication that this meal was to be a catastrophe was the fact that it was 98% fat free
(and by my guess, 98% not food)”
[how very right you are.]

“As you can see here, the finished product looked nothing like the well painted plastic food on the cover of the box.
The food is pushed around and cut up a bit from my initial attempt to consume the foul looking concoction.
After careful inspection though, I deemed the food to be unsafe for consumption.”
[Unsafe? There's an understatement if ever I heard one.]

“The beans were the first item that I inspected.
Now, It is my understanding that refried beans are not supposed to be crunchy or brittle.
I don’t know what Don Miguel is trying to pull here,
but these are obviously not refried beans like the ones on the cover of the box.
The directions said to stir the beans, but these did not stir; they crumbled.”
[the beans look like Pepperidge Farm turkey stuffing!]

“The Spanish rice was probably the closest thing to food in the meal, but like the beans, it was totally dried out.
It was all clumped together as well. In fact, it was more of a rice cake than just plain rice.
Another thing I noticed was the fact that the rice on the box had diced peppers in it,
but there were none in my rice that I could find.”
[Maybe you could use the rice cluster as a pendant?]

“The main entree was by far the scariest part of the dinner tray.
The so-called chicken enchiladas contained little if any chicken,
and were primarily filled with a strange mucous-like substance, which I was unable to identify.
The corn tortilla it was wrapped in was soggy on the bottom and crunchy on the top.
The cheese and sauce had mostly boiled into a hard mass around the edge of the container.”
[Anatomy & Physiology 1 here I come!]

“And just what the fuck is this supposed to be?”
[No comment. Uhh, a nasty snail?]

“I certainly wasn’t going to eat this crap, but still, I couldn’t let it go to waste could I?
After all, there are plenty of starving children in Zimbabwe that would kill for a feast like this.
So, I did the next best thing to shipping it off to some third world country— I fed it to my dog.”
[Lucky doggie!]

“Now that’s one happy pooch!”
[not so fast Mobius!]

Happy Malarky Monday folks!
Please visit ‘teh Blogocracy’ and make your Malarky Monday complete!

Moe (awesome!)
Morky (filthy and awesome!)
Dilligaf (filthy, awesome and always bloody outrageous!)