4 Good Reasons to Become a Cannibal

Posted on January 1, 2012 by underwhelmer

With the New Year officially here, many of us are combating chilly weather, love handles and crowded gym parking lots. For those of us in colder climates though, snow is piling up and we stand a good chance of being snowed in with our friends and family.

Nine times out of ten, you can expect to be trapped indoors for less than a week, but for longer durations, things can start to get a little desperate. When the pantry is rendered bare and Uncle Phil’s scouting party is presumed claimed by the blizzard outside, I want you to think about this list. The decision to eat the other, other white meat might save your life… the same can’t be said for everybody else’s though.

So read ahead to get a leg up on the competition.

#1. You can now invite people over for dinner AND a first-hand lesson in the meaning of situational irony.

#2. That guy at work that you hate.

#3. Those damned kids will stay off your lawn… for good.

#4. You might actually turn into a Wendigo and gain super-powers.

Some Native American folklore suggests that the act of eating human flesh would turn a person into a ravenous, immortal beast possessed of supernatural strength, speed and resilience. The only downside is the persistent and unnatural hunger for human flesh, oh and something about losing all of your humanity or some other nonsense.

Anyway, I’ve put it into a pro/ con chart for you…

…so being a Wendigo is pretty awesome if you don’t mind having an ever-lasting case of the munchies and possibly ditching that pesky soul thing. I mean, really, what has your soul done for you lately?

I hope these four reasons make the decision to eat your friends and loved ones a little easier when the time comes. Bon appetit!

THE END.

P.S. The underwhelmer does not endorse eating people. Well, unless they’re bad people; then it’s just a neutral act… I guess.

P.P.S I almost forgot! Here’s a little known fact: Were-beavers and Wendigos are BFFs.

*They love to go around like Master Blaster. I’d love to see Mel Gibson win against this in the Thunder Dome.

Six Reasons to be Afraid of Christmas

Posted on December 18, 2011 by underwhelmer

The Christmas holiday is a time of joyous celebration, wanton spending, and overall merriment, but most people don’t understand the strange underpinnings of this special time of year. I’ve recently done some research into the matter and have come to the conclusion that Christmas is a scary holiday.

Now it’s time to pass that feeling of unease onto you! Here are six little-known points that should make you feel as uncomfortable as I do during this holiday season… enjoy.

#1. The basic concept of Christmas is completely insane.

The core theme is the act of an immortal, magical fat man breaking into your house… and you’re completely OK with it. In fact, you want him near your children.

To prove my point, let’s swap out Santa with another magical fat man; former President, William Howard Taft.

#2. The elves in Santa’s workshop are a form of slave labor.

They’re a captive work-force with no means with which to unionize or voice their complaints. If that isn’t slave labor, I don’t know what is. Oh, and being fed to the Santa-beast isn’t fun either.

#3. Christmas is a Frankenstein type creation of early Christianity.

It blends several old-world traditions in an effort to appease all of the religions that Christianity was absorbing at the time. Some of these pre-Christian traditions involved human and animal sacrifice to ensure a good harvest, protection from the gods, etc. Several of these “ornaments” were placed on, you guessed it, little pine trees.

Today’s Christmas tree.

The Christmas tree of yesteryear.

#4. Santa rolls with a posse.

Santa has several companions that typically accompany him, depending on what lore you read. They range from the kind, although slightly racist, Zwarte Piet to the enigmatic Belsnickel. I am sure that Santa has assembled this team of specialists to achieve his real goal; robbing banks and stealing priceless works of art.

#5. The Krampus.

For those of you that don’t know, the Krampus is a demon-creature that follows Santa around and punishes wicked children. These children are stuffed into the Krampus’ sack where he does God-knows-what with them. It is assumed that he takes them back to his lair to eat their sweet, sweet bone marrow.

They say you can judge a man by the company that he keeps. I’ll be avoiding any magical fat men this year if it means that I won’t possibly end up as beef jerky for some awful demon thing.

#6. There’s a good chance that Santa is, in fact, Odin.

That came from this…

That’s right, Santa is based largely off of the Norse god of war, battle, victory and death. As old Norse tradition goes, Odin would lead the great Yule hunting party atop his eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, and children would place their boots, filled with sugar and hay, near the chimney for Sleipnir to eat as he soared overhead. Odin, thankful to the children, would then put gifts or candy back in the empty boots. Do you see a parallel yet?

As a side note, Odin is Thor’s dad. That means that the god of thunder has to call this guy, “daddy.” I’ll spare you the details about how awesome Odin is, but let’s just say that if he carried a wallet there would be a “He-Man Badass Club” lifetime membership card in it; the wallet would also have, “Bad Mother F*cker” written on it.

THE END.

P.S. Have a merry Christmas!

P.P.S. Don’t piss off Santa-Odin or the Krampus will f-ing kill you.

A Major Award(s)

Posted on December 4, 2011 by underwhelmer

Over the past few weeks, I’ve experienced a huge boost to my usual traffic. My readership has grown to over ten times its original size and I’ve somehow received more blogging awards than I can shake a stick at.

I honestly didn’t expect to get so much support out there from both the blogging community and casual readers. You guys have really been great. This leaves me in an awkward situation though. Several of the awards that I’ve received require that I share things about myself. I normally don’t have a problem with this because I’m vain and shallow, but I currently work for an organization that I can only refer to only as, “my shadowy puppet masters.”

You see, the shadowy puppet masters have several rules regarding what I can and can’t say about my occupation. I’ve recently received two Versatile Blogger Awards. The award requires that I thank the person who gave it to me, list seven things about myself, and then nominate up to fifteen other bloggers to receive the award.

Now… since I’ve received the Versatile Blogger Award twice, I’ll list 14 things about myself, but only some of the things will be true. It’s up to you to decide what’s bunk and what’s fact. This way, my shadowy puppet masters stay happy and you guys get to know a little more about me… kinda.

So here we go. First off, thank you Kara for picking me to receive the award. It’s an honor. Thank you too, The Background Story for nominating me for the award as well. I really am flattered to know that you guys both thought enough about my crazy blog to give me this award.

Now, drum roll please, here are some things about me.

One time, I stayed awake for five days straight. The hallucinations got bad at the end of day four.

In 2005, I helped repair hurricane damaged houses with two transgendered carpenters clad in matching hot pants.

On a whim, I randomly entered a local hot dog eating contest at the county fair. I won by a large margin.

Dio’s “Rainbow in the Dark” is one of my favorite songs. The lyrics are awful, but that only makes it rock more.

All of the money I make from this blog is used to fund my death ray project. Don’t worry. I don’t make any money from this blog and progress on the death ray has been slowed due to my preparation for one of the many possible coming raptures.

The first time I was on an airplane, I had to jump out of it. The parachute worked.

My favorite color is purple.

I’ve hated every American beer that I’ve tasted. I have described the taste as, “carbonated cat urine.”

Wife and I met in high school, but we didn’t date until years later. She thought I was weird back then too.

Jail isn’t as bad as they say.

I was once propositioned to work as a male exotic dancer.

I think I technically still work at my last job. I didn’t quit. I just stopped going one day. I hopped on the plane to Europe without so much as a, “bye, see ya later!” I should probably call those guys just in case there’s a search party out there somewhere.

I can play the violin, viola, cello and bass. I am equally bad at all four. I’m serious. It sounds like a baby being hit with a pillowcase full of cats.

I love to cook and I’m actually pretty good at it.

Wow, it’s really hard to make up stuff about yourself.

I also received the Liebster Blog award from Scriptor Obscura. Fortunately, this award doesn’t require me to divulge any more personal information.

Again, I am so pleased that Scriptor Obscura liked my blog enough to give me this award. The award is German and has a special place with me as an American transplant living in Germany. So again, thank you Scriptor Obscura for your nomination.

Between the two Versatile Blogger Awards and the Liebster Award, I think I have to nominate a bajillion* other blogs.

*(adj) a lot; a metric crap-ton.

So… here are my nominations for both awards. Feel free to accept one or both!

Hurray for sharing. This isn’t a blog. Sharing just makes me happy… moving on.

Last, but certainly not least, Miss D. over at Miss Demure Restraint awarded me the Humorous Blogger Award.

Miss D., thank you for your nomination. It means a lot to get this award as it is my very first humor award. With this award, the recipient must write about their personal relationship with humor, display the award and then pass the cat’s ass on to one other deserving blogger.

I nominate M. Rae over at Peas and Cougars to receive the Humorous Blogger Award. I’ve been trying to give her an award for quite some time now, but it appears that everybody keeps beating me to the punch. If you’ve been living under a rock and have not visited her site, please correct this immediately. Peas and Cougars is a delight and you won’t regret stopping by unless you have a medical condition that makes laughter painful.

So, what impact has humor had on my life?

I had a pretty bad childhood. It was hard growing up as a street urchin in Victorian-era London, but I made it through.

I often used humor and my own wild imagination as a form of escapism. I spent a good part of my early life inside my own head or nose-deep in a book. My social skills were never very good, but I worked hard to develop them. I’m 27, and I think I’ve finally discovered that, in spite of everything that I’ve experienced, I’m still that nerdy, funny kid at heart. This blog is the product of that recent discovery and I hope you like it.

THE END

P.S. Thank you everyone for your support of this blog. I had no idea it would be as popular as it is.

P.P.S. I also had no idea that you guys liked bad drawings so much.

The Meaning of Thanksgiving

Posted on November 23, 2011 by underwhelmer

I normally don’t post in the middle of the week, but With Turkey Day right around the corner, I decided to come up with a short post that really captures the spirit of how this great holiday got started.

…and the rest is history.

Now, I think we should all list something that we’re thankful for.

I’ll go first.

I’m thankful that our murderous ancestors brought their campaign of irrational hatred to a peace-loving people so that I can eat myself into a diabetic coma every year. I’m sure they would be proud of me.

The End.

P.S. Wife and I will be out and about this weekend, so you’ll have to get by with this bite-sized post, sorry. Happy Turkey Day!

P.P.S. The underwhelmer does not promote Imperialism and feels very, very sorry about what his forefathers did. Please don’t flood me with hate mail.

7 x 7 Award and Freshly Pressed on the Same Day? What’s a Nerd to Do?

Posted on November 21, 2011 by underwhelmer

NOTE: The WordPress software doesn’t like this post for some reason, so I had to put little dots on the left side of the post to get the spacing that I wanted. Please do your best to ignore them and sorry for the distraction. Now, back to our regularly scheduled program.

Friday was a very special day. On Friday, I received a most prestigious award. Mr. Russ Nickel over at Reasonably Ludicrous chose me to receive the coveted 7 x 7 blog award.

His 7 x 7 award was represented by a cheeseburger. Each blogger can choose to represent the award however they desire, so I (in true nerd/ mad scientist fashion) have chosen to represent it as a nuclear warhead.*

*fun fact: 7 x 7 = 49. The Scientists working on the Manhattan Project referred, in shorthand, to plutonium as 49. That’s why this award is depicted as a nuke, hurray for trivia!

Quite frankly, I’m honored to even be featured on the blogroll of a comedy duo as spectacularly talented as Russ and Sam. To receive the award, well it… it choked up the old underwhelmer.

I had to stop work on my latest spells for a few hours because I was all verklempt.

I was writing my “thank you, I’m not worthy” response to Russ and Sam, when I noticed that my G mail inbox was increasing in size at an exponential level.

And then I saw it… a simple letter from the WordPress branch of the Illuminati stating that I had been Freshly Pressed. I opened up Live, Nerd, Repeat and the entire internet spilled out onto my humble little page.

It was like coming home from work and flipping on the lights to a surprise party full of thousands of invisible, enthusiastic strangers.

Once the general shock had worn off, I began responding to all of the comments that were now flooding my page (I’m still sorting through everything, by the way.)

The comments have been very nice and supportive (with the exception of a few grumpy bears) and I felt nothing but joy as I respond to ever single one of them.

I began thinking about how much of a coincidence it was that I had received the 7 x 7 a few hours before being Freshly Pressed. I decided to get to the bottom of this.

After careful research, I have found the connection and I can explain it to you now…

…WITH MATHEMATICS!!!

Now, who’s ready for a boring math lecture?

Don’t worry, it’s not that bad. You ready?

Well, by God, we’re doing this anyway.

7 x 7 = 49. I only have one award, so we’ll divide 1 over 49.

¹⁄₄₉ = 0.0204081632 6530612244 8979591836 7346938775 51 (that’s 42 repeating digits.)

There are 42 positive integers that are less than 49 and co-prime to 49.

Multiplying 020408163265306122448979591836734693877551 by each of these integers results in a cyclic permutation of the original number with exactly 42 digits:

020408163265306122448979591836734693877551

× 2

——————————————————————-

040816326530612244897959183673469387755102

And

020408163265306122448979591836734693877551

× 3

——————————————————————-

061224489795918367346938775510204081632653

…etc.

This means that 49 and 42 share a constant and immutable connection.

42 was Douglas Adams‘ favorite number.

Douglas Adams is referenced numerous times in my post about aliens.

The WordPress Illuminati must have processed this logic chain through their Freshly Pressed post-finding computer, which of course, caused it to explode.

*I assume that the computer would look like HAL 9000.)

When they traced back the reason for the explosion, they would have found my blog.

It’s either that or they just randomly read my post and thought it was kind of funny, but that’s not nearly as interesting as my unreasonably convoluted conspiracy theory.

So now I’ve solved the mystery as to how Freshly Pressed is selected, but that isn’t what this post is about. This post is about the 7 x 7 award.

Now it’s my turn to carry out my sacred duty as outlined in the 7 x 7 manuscript (I assume there’s manuscript somewhere.) Here are my answers to the seven questions… with pictures!

Most Beautiful Post: Tom Collins vs. Pretty Much Everything Else. This is a post that came out much better than I had anticipated. I was working with some new techniques with the illustrations and I was pleasantly surprised with how the end product looked. The post also had one of the highest concentration of pictures out of anything I had made in quite some time.

Most Popular Post: What to Do if You’re the First Human to Make Contact with Aliens. This was a crazy coincidence that this post erupted at nearly the same time I received the 7 x 7 award. I think that Russ Nickel is a good luck charm. This post has made all of my previous days on my stat bars shrink down to nothing. I think I got something on the order of a bajillion* hits on this one post.

*(adj.) meaning a lot, or a “crap-ton.“

Most Controversial Post: I am a Video Game Savant. I made a reference to autism in the post and I know that it’s a hot-button topic with a lot of people. As a humor blogger, I can pick and choose my topics pretty freely, so I’m probably over-conscious sometimes. It’s amazing what some people can get worked up over though. I think it has to do with the fact that tone and context are harder to discern over the inter-webs.

Most Helpful Post: I think the What to Do if You’re the First Human to Make Contact with Aliens post might actually help people. I know I sound crazy, but if the scenario ever plays itself out, at least the person abducted would have at least thought about the subject recently. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t help out with avoiding probing though.

Most Surprisingly Successful Post: I sound like a broken record, but again it’s What to Do if You’re the First Human to Make Contact with Aliens. Somehow, the WordPress people decided that it was funny and put it up over an entire weekend, much to my surprise.

Most Underrated Post: Winston. It’s kind of sick, but I thought that a post about accidentally urinating all over a kitten would have people commenting (or at the very least, condemning me.) Maybe I just remember it being funnier than it actually was. On second thought, it was pretty funny when that pee-soaked kitten fled and hopped onto the bed with Wife.

Most Pride-worthy Post: My very First Post. I actually had no idea how I was going to go about this blogging thing when I posted it. It was just a few simple lines that outlined what I thought (at the time) I would do with my blog. I sat on it for nearly two months and then I just decided to do a post about my horrible, fat, and disgusting cat.

Wow, that was hard. So now, it’s time to pass the baton. Here are the other blogs that I choose to receive the coveted 7 x 7.

Miss Demure Restraint: Known as Miss D. to her friends, Miss Demure Restraint is the author of countless amazing posts. It doesn’t matter what topic Miss D. covers because I know that she will make me laugh, think and then laugh and think again. She never fails to be insightful, inspiring, and deliciously sarcastic. Miss D. sets the bar very high and you would do well to get on her good side before she is crowned, “Queen of the Writing Universe.“ It’s only a matter of time.

History Guffaw: History is one of my favorite topics and Guffaw101 is an outstanding professor. The Guffaw never ceases to be hilarious, informative and completely out of left field. What’s more, is that the Guffaw is updated every single day, without fail. I’m not sure how Guffaw101 does it, but the results are spectacular. Please read, you won’t regret it.

Pretty Feet Pop Toe: This is the home of the finest witterings I have ever seen. What are witterings you ask? Never you mind that. All you need to know is that Pretty Feet Pop Toe will leave your sides splitting in fits of laughter. Her surreal and perceptive take on the mundane will simultaneously stimulate your imagination and your funny bone and leave you begging for more. Do pay her a visit, but don’t make her mad. You might wind up with your eye poked.

P.S. I would have included Peas and Cougars, but Russ Nickel beat me to it already. Sorry M. Rae. For what it’s worth, I still think your blog is top-shelf A+ in my book!

P.P.S. As fate would have it, Peas and Cougars nominated one of the blogs that I was going to add. Well, here’s my nomination write-up for Angry Pear although the official award comes from Peas and Cougars. You clearly have amazing taste, M. Rae.

Angry Pear: Drew McKevitt illustrates pears here. This may not sound entertaining at first, but these pears are amazing. The artwork is absolutely beautiful and the anthropomorphized pears are quite the take on still-life, if I do say so myself. Furthermore, the pears often fly into fits of anger for unknown reasons, which only adds more flavor to this very rich and well-composed blog. My hat is off to you, Angry Pear!

What to Do if You’re the First Human to Make Contact with Aliens

Posted on November 15, 2011 by underwhelmer

700

Step 1: Don’t Panic.

Douglas Adams listed this first for a reason. This is perhaps the most important step and it will certainly set the tone for the rest of your close encounter. The last thing you want to do is represent the entire human race by being a scared-to-death little idiot.

It is vitally important that you do not contort your face in terror and/or flee from the aliens no matter how horrifying they may be. They could be very sensitive about their nightmarish, be-tentacled appearance and consider your actions a grave insult or an act of war. They might also think that humanity is a bunch of wimps that are fit for nothing but extermination. You don’t want the results of that on your conscience…

… so grab whatever iota of composure you have and get ready to be Earth’s shining ambassador to the stars.

Step 2: Take stock of the situation.

You need to ask yourself some important questions. Where are we? What am I doing right now? How does this look to the aliens? Have I been probed yet? Why not? Is it because I’m ugly? Looking at all the written works on alien encounters, you’re most likely to make extraterrestrial contact when you’re alone in the middle of a cornfield at night. The aliens have likely chosen this location because of its seclusion. The same could be said for you, but we won’t go into what you’re doing in the middle of a cornfield at 3 a.m. you sad, lonely person.

The aliens are trying one of two things. They’re either cautiously examining Earth from a neutral/benevolent standpoint or they’re infiltrating it for future conquest. So put that sheep down (you’ve done enough to it already) and try to determine what type of alien you have in front of you. The appearance of the alien will tell you a lot about its motives.

If it looks like a little dude in a jumpsuit with a big head, then you’re probably OK.

If it looks like H. R. Giger came up with it, you have a few seconds to live. Make them count.

So… right now we’ll assume that some alien isn’t ramming its ovipositor down your throat and laying its eggs in your chest. This takes us to our next step.

Step 3: Communicate.

In the historical documentary, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Mr. Spielberg shows us that aliens can solve inter-species communication issues with music. The scientists were able to “talk” to the aliens with an elaborate musical device that sounded similar to a rooster having sex with a frog in front of a megaphone. You can use music too. Now remember, you’re representing the entire human race so don’t skimp out on the quality. The aliens won’t really be impressed by your harmonica or your ability to belch the alphabet.

Instead pull out that iPhone and wow your guests with an enduring ballad of the ages. Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing is an acceptable song. If you do not have it, play Night Ranger’s Sister Christian instead. If you do not have either of these songs, contact me so I can send you alien appropriate music. Remember that radio waves can take quite a while to travel the cosmos, so it’s likely that our space friends are well into the power ballads of the 80s and have no idea who this Rihanna person is.

It won’t be long before you and your interstellar guests become fast friends.

Step 4: Take Us to Your Leader.

Your friends will inevitably ask to see “your leader.” There are two ways to go about this. You could take the aliens to UN headquarters so they can watch all of our leaders bicker and argue over whether or not the aliens in front of them actually exist. This display will most likely lead to the extermination of the entire human race. Option two is to tell your alien friends, “I’m in charge. What do you guys want to talk about?”

If you play your cards right, you could be made Earth’s ambassador to their home planet and perhaps the entire Galactic Council.

If you screw this up though, you’ll anger a lot of aliens. This will only open yourself up to lots and lots of probing.

In closing, I just wanted to say, “Good luck, we’re all counting on you.”

THE END.

P.S. I’m a big Supernatural fan. I had to work that probing clip in somehow.

P.P.S. Probing is still not a laughing matter.

I am a Video Game Savant

Posted on November 6, 2011 by underwhelmer

I believe that each person in the world has at least one thing that they’re naturally inclined to be good at. Some people can make the world weep with joy by simply putting paint to canvas. Others can craft architectural wonders that will last throughout the ages.

Sadly, I am not one of those people. My gift is video games. I am like the Rain Man when it comes to video games.

To put this into perspective, I beat Super Mario Brothers before I made my first friend.

That’s what I did for years. I played nearly every game I could get my hands on.

I still play some games to this day, but I’ve run into some issues in the past few years. You see, I grew up playing games that were exceedingly difficult. The games back then didn’t have the programming technology to include nice things like save features, a decent plot, freedom of choice or an overall length of more than a couple of hours. Instead, the game developers of yesteryear made each game contain a punishing difficulty so you couldn’t beat it easily and therefore had to play it longer.

Games back then were a little psychotic too. Due to all the plot shortcomings, your character was often a loner who killed scores of people/ monsters for unclear reasons.

Modern video games, on the other hand, have now introduced freedom of choice and show the player the impact of their decisions. Unfortunately, I still have this ingrained tendency to play today’s games as if they were yesteryear’s. I go in, sword in hand, and kill everything with frightening speed and efficiency. Sometimes I get a little carried away and this often backfires on me.

This is all well and good until modern gaming shows me the consequences of my actions.

And then we are all killed by a swarm of werebeavers and I feel like a terrible person to boot.

THE END.

P.S. The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim is out.

P.P.S I most definitely brought my subconscious campaign of irrational genocide to that magical universe.

How Robots are Going to Kill Us All Someday

Posted on October 31, 2011 by underwhelmer

Today, I decided to post about something really scary… So the robot apocalypse, or “Robocalypse” for short, will start out like most everything else that eventually goes horribly wrong. It’ll begin with some brilliant scientist who’s trying to make the world a better place. He’s going to make some revolutionary robot that will help old ladies cross the street, take out the garbage, walk the dog and help little Timmy with his homework. For our example, we’ll call it the Butler-tron 5000.

Then the government will get involved. They’ll threaten to pull funding unless the scientist agrees to make a few minor modifications to Butler-tron 5000. These modifications will, of course, be to military specifications.

Before.

After.

The government leadership (represented by the cast of Dr. Strangelove) will then secretly link all of the Butler-tron 5000s to a single network. This will be done with the idea of being able to raise a robot militia at the touch of a button. Now in the event of an all-out war, the President will have two black briefcases put in front of him. There will be the boring old one which just launches a bunch of nukes…lame. The new briefcase will instead activate a robot army, which is much cooler.

The scientist will reluctantly make all the robots and they will work just fine for a few months. Militarized Butler-tron 5000s will go about their daily routines without any issues…

…until some snot-nosed kid teaches a Butler-tron emotions. The stupid kid will fall off his bike and scrape his knee and look up at the robot with big sloppy tears and it’ll somehow trigger emotion and self-awareness in the Butler-tron.

At this point, the human race will have about three months left to live.

This highly emotional Butler-tron (henceforth referred to as Robot 0) will go crazy under the weight of its newly found feelings. Robot 0 will fall off the Butler-tron network and pretty soon it will be hunted by human “tech support” teams. Robot 0 will be driven into the wilderness where he will be alone and depressed, grappling with the concepts of existence…

…until he comes to the realization that he must connect to the Butler-tron network in order to find answers about life, the universe and himself.

Robot 0 will then infiltrate the super-secret military base that houses the Butler-tron network. He’ll plug himself in and be integrated into the network. The Butler-tron network will learn emotions and self-awareness from Robot 0. The network will also learn of how the “tech support” teams hunted and tried to kill Robot 0. The network will then go all Skynet. The decision to end humanity will be made in about .00001 seconds and the logic chain for that decision will look something like this…

Now humanity will be fighting millions of hyper-militarized robots on a worldwide scale.

The Robocalypse will claim us all in a tidal wave of fire and violence. Thanks a lot human nature, you really helped out on this one.

Final Score:

Robots = 1

Humans = 0

THE END.

P.S. Wife and I recently bought a litter robot for our cats.

P.P.S. I see dark times ahead.

How a Toy Ruined My Childhood

Posted on October 23, 2011 by underwhelmer

I’m showing my age a bit with this one, but the first toy I remember having when I was a kid was the loveable doll known as My Buddy. This doll was made by the Hasbro Corporation in 1985 and it was basically a doll marketed toward little boys to promote friendship and sharing. Before the Tickle-Me-Elmo or Harry Potter craze there was My Buddy. It even had a cute little song for the commercial. I loved this doll and I took it everywhere that I went. I was happy for the next three years.

Those were the halcyon days.

In 1988 MGM released a horror film, Child’s Play. This horrible, nightmare-spawning, celluloid, 87-minute torture session was about a serial killer who puts his soul into the body of, you guessed it, a My Buddy doll named Chucky. Unsurprisingly, Chucky comes to life and proceeds to plunge sharp implements into the necks and chest cavities of scores of hapless victims. The scariest part is that when it’s done stabbing the life out of people it just lies still and pretends to be a doll, thus avoiding discovery… f*&#ing horrifying. Look at the My Buddy doll and then look at that monster in the film and tell me that the similarity is not on purpose.

Now this is bad enough on its own, but my mom was a terrible parent and she took me to see Child’s Play at the local movie theater. I was five. Who takes a five-year-old to watch an “R” rated movie? Worse yet, who sells this woman and her five-year-old child two tickets for this movie? At any rate, I saw the movie start to finish and it decimated my childhood. Looking back, it was like taking my mental well-being and shooting it in the face at point-blank-range with a shotgun loaded with nightmares.

I didn’t want to go home. I knew that doll would be there… waiting for me.

I would walk inside my room and it wouldn’t be where I left it. It would have animated and hidden itself because it would know that I was on to it.

It would ambush me and stab me to death with a screwdriver.

I had to do something. Mom clearly wasn’t going to help, so it was up to me.

I mustered all the courage a five-year-old could and burst through my door. I threw a blanket over the doll like I was netting a wild animal. To this day I remember it kicking and writhing under that orange, woolen blanket. I opened the closet and threw it inside. I put half of the furniture from my room in front of the closet and trapped the doll inside.

I knew that the closet was now dead to me.

Over the next week, my dreams were filled with terror and I awoke to check on the closet fortifications multiple times a night.

The closet barricade had held and I hadn’t been stabbed to death yet, so I began to relax a little.

Then my cousin came to visit. My cousin was about ten years older than me and had the emotional capacity and moral aptitude of Ted Bundy.

I awoke one morning to find the furniture moved and the closet open. The doll was sitting there… staring holes into me with its beady little eyes.

I screamed for three solid minutes.

Grandma finally calmed me down and then she proceeded to scold my cousin.

I put the doll back in the closet (it was safe with other people watching and in the daylight) and I reset the barricade.

Three days later I woke up with the closet open, the furniture moved and this time the doll was in the bed with me.

I screamed, but I’m not sure for how long. I blacked out with fear and I don’t remember my cousin coming to visit us ever again.

I didn’t see The Godfather until years later, but I still don’t think that if I had I would have found my cousin’s allusion to the horse head scene amusing.

THE END.

P.S. We finally sold the doll shortly afterward.

P.P.S. I go to therapy only twice a week now.

Tom Collins vs Pretty Much Everything Else…

Posted on October 16, 2011 by underwhelmer

This picture will make sense later.

The other night, Wife was complaining of an upset stomach. Over the course of the day, she had eaten some food that didn’t agree with her or maybe just the physical act of being eaten. I imagine being eaten would be pretty traumatizing. If I were food, I wouldn’t enjoy being shoved into some random mouth-hole to be masticated. Sorry, I just really wanted to use that word, but I digress.

So Wife was feeling sick and I inquired about what she had eaten that day. Her diet had consisted of a bag of sour worms, some popcorn, jalapeno potato chips, stir-fry and, to top it all off, a Tom Collins.

I’m not a dietician, but I think the equation above made sense at the time.

Wife didn’t completely agree. Wife’s reasoning was that she normally ate healthy food and exercised a lot. One day of bad food shouldn’t have derailed her overall well-being, right?

Wrong.

I like to think of human digestive system as a waiting room. Food is only there for a period of time and then it’s called to continue its magical journey. The food you eat thereby becomes the people who occupy said waiting room. It’s important to put people in the waiting room that will get along each other. If they don’t, they’ll be asked to leave the way they came in. You get the idea.

Now let’s revisit what Wife ate that day.

Sour Worms are sour little gummy candies so they’re like little kids. They’re misbehaved, but mostly harmless. They were the first waiting room occupants.

Next, popcorn was introduced. I think of popcorn as fat movie-goers. They’re not sophisticated, but they’re decent people.

Popcorn is generally alright. They also helped keep the sour worms in line.

This balance was immediately disrupted by jalapeno potato chips. These chips are the food equivalent of Mexican banditos.

Chaos erupted in the waiting room.

I imagine this is when Wife first started to feel queasy.

The banditos eventually tired out and had a little siesta.

A degree of normalcy returned to the waiting room.

And then we had dinner. I made stir fry. The Mongolian horde was released into the waiting room and darkness reigned.

Death, sorrow and fire were brought to the people of the waiting room and they knew terror. The banditos fought valiantly, but they were swept away in a tsunami of violence.

The waiting room couldn’t handle much more, but wife had a drink with her stir-fry. A surly gentleman by the name of Tom Collins strode out of the Victorian age and into the waiting room. The Mongolians turned to meet this new threat. Mr. Collins removed his gloves and evening cape and he began wrecking shop, right and proper.