Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts

Saturday, December 19, 2015

Clickbait, Social Media, and You

Clickbait tickles your curiosity with some wild and crazy idea, and invites you to click to find out the "whole" story.

Seems innocent enough, right?? Except, it isn't

When you share clickbait and encourage your friends and connections on social media to explore that deceptive site, you're in effect becoming a mouthpiece for the owner of that content. 

Facebook will be banning all posts expressing religious beliefs? Seems legit. Bill Gates will give you $5,000 just for sharing a photo? Sure. Obama rebuked by a former Navy SEAL? Right. One thing many of these have in common, you might notice, is that you're invited to click on a link which takes you to someone's website, or Facebook page associated with a website which invites you to visit.

Once there, mission accomplished as far as the website owner is concerned. 

They have lured you in, and in doing so, subjected you to a barrage of ads, ads which make them money. Your visit to a site set up with various advertising means money for them. Your sharing that clickbait with your social media connections means even more money, especially if that content goes viral. Given that you've lent your credibility to it by sharing it with people you know, that is entirely too possible.

Do yourself, and your social media connections, a favor. Search before you share. Use due diligence and check your facts, because what someone else tells you is truth may turn out to be utter crap designed solely to spread lies and make that someone advertising revenue.


Saturday, August 2, 2014

Mah Knife Is Too Big!

REJECTED by Don Hertzfeldt is one of my favorite animated short films ever.

Recently, I'd come across the video below, showcasing the Microtech Halo Giant OTF (out-the-front) automatic knife.

Apparently you can actually buy one for just under $10,000 from a few online knife retailers. It occurred to me... if I took the plunge and actually bought this thing, I could legitimately say...

"Mah KNIFE is too big!!"

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Arachnophobia Explained

Picture this.

You are a hominid. Australopithecus africanus, perhaps. Foraging for nuts and berries, perhaps claiming the occasional ancestor of modern squirrels or rats or mice.

Then, it happens. An octagonal shape descends through the cloud tops, descending gently, purposefully. Your tribe, surprised, crouches to the ground and looks up with fearful eyes.

The shape descends, a plume of dust rising from the earth around its landing site. Silence, for a few minutes, and then, a light beams out as a portion of the thing descends, making contact with the ground. Minutes pass. Hours. Finally, the shadow of some eight-legged... thing... is cast upon the dirty earth. 

A gigantic spider.

Our bipedal ancestors know not how to react, other than with abject horror. With tremendous strides, the spiders leapt upon their humanoid prey, envenoming them quickly, then moving effortlessly to the next. The resident humanoid population is brought quickly under the arachnids' control. 

But then... what's this?

A rogue among the spiders, a rebel, looks upon the scrawlings of animals scribbled upon cave walls with charcoal by humanoids not with indifference, not with pity, but with admiration. 

Wait, what's that? In the shadows? Another of his ilk... female

In the nearly lightless cave, they both gaze in awe at the crude glyphs. Days pass. Weeks. They, too, prey upon the indigent humanoids for sustenance. A few elude their predators with cleverness, savvy. The traits the biped survivors carry in their genetic heritage will be passed along to future generations.

Eventually, their comrades decide Earth is an unsuitable world. With their advanced technology, they can glimpse into the future of this planet, see that eventually these simple humanoids will evolve into creatures most dangerous to a strangely diminutive progeny of their kind.

The octagonal craft lifts off, punches through the cloud tops, and quickly vanishes into the depths of space, a faster-than-light drive hurling the aliens to parts unknown.

Meanwhile, the male and female mate. They begin their own brood of young, and as they emerge from their silken egg sac, they greedily feast upon their father's now headless carcass.

The female looks upon her children for a moment. This planet, she knows, will be less kind to them than her home world. The gravity, greater; the atmosphere, less oxygenated. Eventually, future offspring may reduce in size, though increase in numbers.

Survival, in whatever form, is not without cost.

. . .

Years pass. Centuries. Millenia. Millions of "years".

The mother's corpse and her children have long since been cast to the winds of this world as dust. Now, the varied descendants of this alien race lurk in the shadows. The cold equations revealed in their glimpse into the future have, apparently, come true. These humanoids are of tougher mettle than their brutish cousins left behind in the distant past. 

Yet, what is that twinge of fear, of horror, that lurks in the minds of so many a human being? When those small, eight-legged creatures dash out from beneath a refrigerator, drop down onto them from a ceiling, or worse, capture them in their vulnerable nakedness upon emerging from their daily cleansing ritual?

In the end, this matters little, for they have mastered... fire.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Annoying Coworkers!

If your own annoying coworker story evokes sympathy in me, compels me to go to a convenient corner and huddle in a fetal position, or just makes me laugh out loud and point at you mockingly for your plight, I might send you a $20 Amazon Gift Card* in return!

In my career as a software developer, I once had an office mate (let's call him Jork) who had this habit of making the office we shared all dark and womb-like before I'd arrive in the morning, meaning he'd turn off the lights and close the door until it was just barely open.

This, in itself, was no problem. The problem was the smell. Jork was a large guy, and sweated fairly profusely. Also he used way too much laundry detergent, so it was a stifling wall of laundrysweat for me to encounter every morning. Usually when I'd arrive I would open the door and go grab some coffee just to let it air out a little.

He also had this loud, tittering laugh, like some freakin' obese goblin, whenever he'd read something funny or be watching some amusing video.

He was also flatulent like a motherfucker. Once he let one loose, turned to me and with a half-assed laugh said, "Heh heh... was that you?" What the fuck, Don Prudhomme, you can't hear yourself fucking fart??

Once when a buddy and I were in the office and Jork was still out to lunch, we happened to notice one of his desk drawers wasn't quite closed, so we took a peek inside. Hanging out in the bottom was a big bottle of Vaseline™ Intensive Care lotion.

Every few days the guy would ask me when I was leaving for the day. He would frequently work late, and he mentioned he didn't have broadband yet because his home was in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. I wish I could unimagine what I imagined after hearing that.

Wage slaves, you very likely have come across someone whom you would never choose to interact with outside the workplace.

Tell me your story! 


  1. Be creative, but please, be original. Make sure you're sharing your own tales of coworker woe.
  2. This is NOT a contest, and a recipient of a gift card is NOT guaranteed to be chosen. I'm simply offering to brighten the day of one or more people who are willing to share their story.

  3. By participating, you agree not to sue me for any reason whatsoever. This agreement remains in effect forever and ever, so help you God, Allah, FSM, Satan, or whomever / whatever you believe in.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

One Ring to Rule Them All...

I recently posted an entry on the forums for their photoshop contest, "Movie Plots That Could Have Been Solved In Minutes".

Did I win? Nope. Even make the featured list of entries??! Nope.

Here is an unedited version which I'd originally cropped to meet their stingy 550-pixel width requirement.

If you appreciate my sense of humor, I salute you! I raise a virtual mug of mead in your honor!