Archive for the greannmhar Category

HEADLINE – WOMAN ATTACKS BOYFRIEND WITH BASEBALL BAT

Posted in And now the snorting starts, Crime and Punishment, fairness, Fiat Lux, gülen yüz, greannmhar, Headline, Headlines, Is that really Ellie Goulding?, Joseph Bleckman, kluchtig, lächerlich, love, News, neşeli, скарлетт йоханссон, Small Town America, The Great State of Montana!, بشار الاسد with tags , , , , , on November 1, 2014 by paulboylan

Angry Woman

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Okay, what did he do?

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Reproduction with permission of the Sacramento Valley Mirror, the greatest little newspaper in the world (Tim Crews Editor and Publisher).

DISAPPOINTED WITH THE SYDNEY MORNING HERALD

Posted in amusant, And now the snorting starts, Artists Rights, Australia, Captain America, fairness, Geopolitical Insults, greannmhar, kluchtig, lächerlich, Paying Attention, Post Modern Knock-Knock Jokes, Rage Against the Machine, snaaks, The Great State of Montana!, Travel, USA! USA! USA!, Why do people in other countries talk funny?, سكارليت جوهانسون, سياسة on February 16, 2014 by paulboylan

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disgruntled seppo

This is me, disappointed with the Sydney Morning Herald. My disappointment looks a lot like a terrible, preternatural anger, doesn’t it?

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People of Earth, I am deeply disappointed with the Sydney Morning Herald.  Allow me to explain why.

As some of my regular visitors know, I feel a strange affinity for Australia and the exceptional people I’ve met there.

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Brisbane 1

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Brisbane 3

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M and S

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melbourne 5

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Melborune 4

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Sunshine Coast Crowd

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Sourced

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R

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Melbourne 4

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 I have special affection for Sydney.

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Sydney

View from the Rocks

Ouside the Sydney Opera House

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View from the Rathouse

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Hot sell the good taste

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stunning dycotomy

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Warrior Princesses

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You can imagine my delight when I received this email invitation:

Herald Invite

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The Herald explained what they wanted as follows:

The Sydney Morning Herald is challenging you to help us tackle the prevalence of alcohol-related violence and anti-social behavior in Sydney.

Put your ideas to work and create a 30 second video ad or an A4 poster for our Safer Sydney campaign. Your ad should speak to those heading out for the night, especially young men. The winning entry will receive $2,500 as well as being featured across The Sydney Morning Herald newspaper, online and tablet editions.

How could I resist such an invitation?  I myself am guilty of perpetrating alcohol-related anti-social behavior with the very worst hooligans and yobbos Sydney has to offer.

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Sydney Hooligans

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Sydney Yobbos

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The worst of the lot

So I was delighted to have received a request from the Sydney Morning Herald to use my many creative talents to help the good people of Sydney to improve their quality of life.  I snapped into action and put this poster together:

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Stay Classy, Sydney

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I felt fairly pleased with my effort.  It was pithy and to the point. It directly spoke to those headed out for the night, especially young men – who are always primarily interested in impressing the ladies with the hope of persuading them to engage in sexual congress.  I felt my poster was a sure fire winner.

Then I read the contest rules:

TERMS AND CONDITIONS

General Terms
1. Information on how to enter forms part of the terms of entry. Entry into the competition is deemed acceptance of these terms and conditions by the entrant (referred to as entrant or you in these terms and conditions).

2. The Promotion is a game of skill, and chance plays no part in determining the winners.

3. Entry is open to residents of Australia only.

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WTF???

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HEADLINE – CLEAR DEFINITION FOR “HABITABLE PLANET” URGED

Posted in And now the snorting starts, Astronomy, bilim adamları, buffo, dada, космическая девушка, Food, gülen yüz, greannmhar, Headline, Headlines, 스타게이트유니버스, ανόητο άτομα, kluchtig, lächerlich, News, ученые, Research and Development, Science, Science Fiction, snaaks, Space, Stupid News, Travel, بشار الاسد on November 26, 2013 by paulboylan

Never gonna go there

MUNCIE, Indiana – Experts have issued a call for scientists to establish a clear definition of “habitable planets” to make the search easier. They recommend researchers to take a conservative approach when looking for these planets.

“We want to clearly define what we are wasting our time looking for,” said one of the experts referenced above.

In related news,/after 10 years and at a cost of six million dollars, NASA scientists have finally completed the menu that will regulate what astronauts eat during a space voyage from earth to Mars that will never happen.

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A GRIM FAIRY TALE – THE SOMBER TURKEY

Posted in amusant, And now the snorting starts, Food, gülen yüz, greannmhar, Grim Fairy Tales, Hapax Legomenon, Joseph Bleckman, kluchtig, lächerlich, Monsters, neşeli, Orcs, Our animal friends, Politics, Rage Against the Machine, rimshot wav download, snaaks, The Wilhelm Scream, USA! USA! USA!, سياسة policy on November 24, 2013 by paulboylan

Hello, children. I am Brother Grim. Would you like to hear a story?

It is that time of year again.  I post this story every November as we North Americans get closer to our Thanksgiving feast – which invariably features a big roasted turkey.

My friends, I give you…

The Somber Turkey

Once upon a time, outside of the Kingdom of Woodland, east of Winters, in the Land of California, there lived a happy turkey farmer named Hannigan.  He loved raising turkeys, killing them, and selling them – in part or in whole – to clients all over California – where turkey eating was a big thing, especially during Thanksgiving and Christmas.


On Hannigan’s turkey farm lived a happy turkey named Norman.  Norman was the happiest and most contented turkey the world had ever known because he was the biggest turkey anyone had ever seen.  Farmer Hannigan often brought other humans to marvel at Norman’s size and physical beauty.

“That’s gonna be some big turkey,” the human visitors would always say.

“Yep,” Farmer Hannigan would always reply.

Farmer Hannigan was happy, which made Norman happy. Norman was proud of the fact that he was so big and fat with lots of white meat, whatever that was.

The other turkeys knew how Norman felt, because he was always bragging about himself.

“I’m gonna be some big turkey!” he would say.

The other turkeys got fed up with Norman’s bragging.  One day Leonardo decided to do something about it.

Leonardo was not an especially big or happy turkey. Not being big didn’t make Leonardo unhappy.  He could give a rat’s ass about how big he was.  He didn’t buy into that neo-fascist farmcentric value system.  Leonardo was a fiery-eyed revolutionary with a strong interest in pragmatic Marxism.

Leonardo

“You are one fine, big turkey,” Leonardo said to Norman one day.

“Yes, I am,” Norman preened.

“You know what they’re going to do to you because you’re so big?” Leonardo asked.

“Admire me,” Norman said, meaning it.

“Sure they are.  They’re going to admire how good you taste,” Leonardo said.

“I beg your pardon?” Norman asked.

“They’re going to eat you, buddy.  In a couple of months they’re going to catch you, kill you, cut off your head, pull out all of your feathers and your internal organs, cook you and eat you, and they’re going to pick you first because you’re so big.  Lots of white meat.”

“Oh, my god!” Norman said.  “They’re going to eat me!”

Norman realizes the truth.

“You mean you didn’t know?”

“No!”

“Everyone else knows.  Why do you think that so many turkeys die while they’re drinking water?”

“Because they forget to breath?” Norman suggested.

Leonardo laughed. “You believe that?  It’s a lie invented by the Man.  Have you ever forgotten to breath?”

“No.”

“Of course not. You got to be really stupid to forget to breath.”

“But we are pretty stupid.”

“No we’re not.  That’s just a lie to keep us down, to ruin our self esteem so we will be easy to exploit and so we won’t cause any trouble.  I’ll tell you why some turkeys die drinking water. Depression.  They’re depressed.  Why else do you think those other “stupid” things happen?  Why do you think some turkeys kill themselves by opening their throats in the rain and drowning?  Why do you think hens sit on their eggs so hard they break the eggs?”

“Oh my god, they’re killing their babies,” Norman said, in horror.

“Right.  They know what’s in store and they can’t take it. Would you want someone to eat your babies?”

“No,” Norman said.  “What can I do?” he asked, whispering in abject terror.

“Maybe I can get you out of here,” Leonardo said.  “On the outside there is an underground network of birds and humans who can take you to a place where you will be free.”

“Interested?”

“Of course!”

“Okay  I’ll see what I can do.”

Time went by.  Leonardo often spoke with Norman, teaching the bigger bird the truth about the world, teaching him hatred for the seemingly unbreakable power structure that doomed him and his race to be imprisoned, enslaved, slaughtered and devoured by killer apes.

“But remember,” Leonardo cautioned one night. “Not all humans are ravenous cannibals.  Some are good, and eat only plants and bugs.  These are the ones that help some of us get away.”

“How?” Norman asked in the star lit darkness.

“Every now and then there is a condition called Dark of the Moon, when there is no moon out and the darkness is as total as it can be.  During this time, a human jumps the fence and opens a big box. As many of us run in as we can.  We call it the Box of Freedom.”

“Just one box?”

“Yes, one box, but it is a big box, and it is better that some of us escape to keep the flames of hope burning.”

“I hope we both make it, brother,” Norman said.

“Me too, brother.  Me too.”

Then came the Dark of the Moon.  The turkeys were all quiet, making sure that there was no reason for Farmer Hannigan to investigate.

Suddenly the man with the box appeared.  He placed a big box on the ground and opened the side.

“This is it, brother!” Leonardo said, running.  Norman followed.

Leonardo made it into the box.  Norman didn’t get in before the man closed the box.

“Don’t worry, brother!” Leonardo cried from inside the box. “I’ll be waiting for you in paradise!”

But it didn’t happen.  The friendly human with the big box didn’t come back.  And Thanksgiving approached.  Leonardo was right – they came for Norman first.

Farmer Hannigan and his employees placed Norman in a big wooden crate built out of slats so that Norman could see and breathe.  Then Norman was carried to a truck, to an airport, into the belly of a jet, into another truck, and onto a large lawn next to a big white house.  Eventually, humans came to set up a lectern, chairs and cameras.  More humans came.  Some talked at the lectern in front of the crowd.

And then Norman’s cage was opened and gentle hands removed him from the crate.

“My god,” one human said.  “This had got to be the biggest turkey I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s why the President is getting it,” another human said, not trying to make a joke.

Norman was brought to the front of the crowd.  One human in a black suit made a short speech to another man, also standing in front of the crowd.  Humans in the audience took pictures with still and video cameras.

And then Norman did it.  He thrust out his neck and tried to bite the man who wasn’t giving the speech.  Norman knew that he just couldn’t go gently into that good night.

The man giving the speech reached out, grabbed Norman’s long neck and choked Norman.  Other humans helped stuff Norman back into the crate.

“That is one feisty bird,” the President quipped, and the reporters laughed.


In those days it was customary for the President to display generosity, and pardon the White House Thanksgiving turkey.  So Norman was taken to a farm in Virginia, where he lived for the rest of his natural days.

Leonardo was not so lucky. He ended up as dinner for the man with the big box, who was nothing more than a thief who just couldn’t get over how stupid those turkeys were and how they would be so quite and just waddle into the box, as if they wanted to be eaten.

Which was, from the thief’s point of view, always possible.  After all, turkeys are so stupid.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

 

HITLER ON THE ROOF

Posted in amusant, And now the snorting starts, Art, Avatar, buffo, Film, gülen yüz, greannmhar, Humor, Internet Fun!, kluchtig, lächerlich, neşeli, скарлетт йоханссон, Parody, Photography, Pop Culture, snaaks, Television, The Great State of Montana!, The Wilhelm Scream, Weird Stuff, سكارليت جوهانسون on August 10, 2013 by paulboylan

unhappy cat

“This is bullshit.”

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So I’m at Cafe Bernardo in Davis eating breakfast with Steve and Cindy – friends visiting from Kansas City – when, as a joke (perhaps a bad joke) I suggest an idea for a parody of the musical film Fiddler on the Roof.

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fiddler_on_the_roof

My parody was entitled Hitler on the Roof.  

Years ago, I had a similar idea for a gay version of the Oklahoma! that I decided to memorialize using photoshop:

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oklahomo .

That night I devoted significant time with photoshop to creating this:

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Hitler 15.1

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I was quite please with my efforts.  But the next morning I began to wonder if anyone thought of it before I did.

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Someone did.  A Google Image search found this, posted in 2007:

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HitlerOnTheRoof

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I dug a bit deeper and found that I wasn’t just late, I was way, way behind in marrying Hitler to Hollywood:

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SaturdayNightFuhrer-1

. close . AdolfHitlersDayOff . AnimalHaus . Teutonic . GestaposComingToDinner . Aryans-1 . BackToTheFuhrer .

AllIWantForChristmasIsPoland

. FuhrerEyesOnly . HeilYouWereSleeping . DoTheReichThing . TheMuppetsTakeMunchen . TheGreenHeil . Hitlergeist . RaisingHitler . SingleWhiteFuhrer . TopHun . AdolfScissorhands . LostInInvasion . TheNakedHun . KnockedUpByHitler .   . . . . . .FailureToLaunch . TheWeddingFuhrer . TradingRaces .

And for the kids – DeutschlandBeforeTime .

EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW – JOHN BOEHNER

Posted in And now the snorting starts, Captain America, disembodied heads of the rich and famous, gülen yüz, GOP, greannmhar, Headline, Headlines, I think you are a social parasite but I want you to vote for me anyway, ανόητο άτομα, kluchtig, lächerlich, News, скарлетт йоханссон, photograph, Photography, Politics, Pycho-Social Trauma, Stupid People, The Great State of Montana!, The Second Coming, The Wrath of God, USA! USA! USA!, Why do people in other countries talk funny?, מצחיק, بشار الاسد, سكارليت جوهانسون, سياسة with tags , , , , , , on February 19, 2013 by paulboylan

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House of Representatives Republican Majority Leader John Boehner recently stated “Obama wants to obliterate the Republican Party.” Boehner’s complaint has inspired me to draft a fake interview where he explains why Obama needs to do anything at all to destroy the GOP when the GOP is doing a fine job of destroying itself.

I haven’t finished writing the interview yet, but I have collected together the photos I will use for illustration:

boehner 1

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House Leader John Boehner Holds Press Briefing At The Capitol

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Boehner 7

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Obama Wants to Obliterate GOP 3 copy

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boehner 11

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boehner2

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Obama State of the Union

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Obama Wants to Obliterate GOP 3 copy

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Boehner 4

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Boehner 5

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John Boehner

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Obama Wants to Obliterate GOP 3 copy

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Boehner 9

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Boehner 10

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Obama Wants to Obliterate GOP 3 copy

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THERE IS A REASON WHY GEORGE BUSH PAINTS HIMSELF IN THE NUDE

Posted in And now the snorting starts, Artists Rights, おかしなふるまいの, अजीब, Captain America, космическая девушка, Fashion Forward, gülen yüz, GOP, greannmhar, Headline, Headlines, 재미, αστείος, ανόητο άτομα, lächerlich, love, Money and Power, News, neşeli, скарлетт йоханссон, смешной, Politics, Post Modern Knock-Knock Jokes, The Great State of Montana!, The Wrath of Khan, مقاطع‏ ‏سكس‏ ‏مصارعه, مصارعه, مضحك, مضحکہ خیز, 滑稽, טילים, מצחיק, פיצה, بشار الاسد, خنده, خنده دار, سكارليت جوهانسون, سياسة on February 12, 2013 by paulboylan

aasmokie

So I am sitting on the couch in my family room watching my son watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, when I comment on the recent news articles revealing that former POTUS George Herbert Walker Bush is an accomplished painter with a penchant for painting himself in the nude.

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Opening Of New U.S. Embassy

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“You mean he stood there looking at himself in a mirror?” My son asked.

“Yes, I suppose he did,” I responded.

After a short silence my son opined:

“Well, that makes sense.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Okay, let’s say you are a former conservative Republican President who likes to paint nudes,” my son says.

“Okay,” I respond. “let’s say that.”

“Well, then your possibilities are limited,” my son concludes.

“How so?” I ask.

“Have you seen Barbara Bush?” my son asks.

“His wife?”

“Yes.”

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Barbara-Bush

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“Oh,” I said, granting the point.

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UPDATE:

I found out later that it is was recently revealed that it is George Bush the Younger (the one who started two long wars but didn’t pay for them and very nearly brought down the global economy), not George Bush the Elder (the one who scoffed at his critics’ complaints that he lacked foresight by referring to it as “that vision thing”) who painted and presumably still paints himself nude.

I didn’t inform my son of my error.  I value any exercise in critical thinking and, based on even invalid data his conclusion was admirable.

And it is very likely that the younger Bush paints himself nude because his daddy did it, too, and the younger Bush is competing with him artistically.

The following photo is of a painting obtained by hackers of the younger Bush’s painting efforts. It is a bit creepy because it is clearly derived from a photograph, which means George has a collaborator who takes pictures of him in the nude:

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cn_image.size.bush-family-paintings-emails-02

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The elder Bush was a better president (he fought Gulf War I, neutralized Saddam Hussein without creating a quagmire the US could not exit from).  The odds are the elder Bush is a better painter.

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