Friday Funny


Because Dilbert.


Y’all had better sit down for this


It’s Friday, and it’s been a looooooooong, weird week, so I figured I’d give you guys something truly unique – something you may want to sit down for – something that may shock and amaze you.

Or if you’re like me, send you into fits of laughter that you still can’t stop. I’m sitting here in my chair, and I’m trying not to lose bladder control. The giggles… they’re real, and I’m overcome by them.

So y’all know Alex Jones is crazy, right? If you don’t, you may have been living under a rock for at least several decades. Jones runs a conspiritard site called InfoWars, or as I like to call it InfoTards. No, I’m not linking to these lunatics. I don’t need to drive any traffic their way, and you really couldn’t afford the amount of brain bleach required to get the true crazy washed out after you’ve visited it.

But (hold on, I have to giggle again), Alex Jones has a huge Bilderberg fetish. I mean he has a hardon the size of… well whatever the maximum turgidity of a frothing fatass is for the Bilderberg group, which he thinks is a group that solely exists to take over the world, whisk dissenters away in black helicopters and deposit them in re-education camps so that the installment of the New World Order can proceed smoothly… or something.

The Bilderberg group is, in fact, a private conference that meets once per year, and includes government, business and finance, academia, and media leaders. They are private. They do hold discussions every year, as they have every right to do. Their leaders do admit that the meetings are closed, specifically, so that participants can be completely candid and open with one another about different views without some media outlet reporting every word.

But because it’s… OMG SOOPER SEEKRIT, a whole lot of cranks, including the batshit crazy Jones, and a frothing faction of fruitcakes that includes the Birchers, the Lyndon LaRouche lunatics, Phyllis Schlafly and the increasingly tiresome Jesse Ventura, have decided that this group is EEEEVIL, since they obviously have something to hide, and everyone should have the right to know what they’re talking about, and because they aren’t transparent, even though they are privately funded and have a right to be, WE MUST KNOW, DAMMIT! *gasp*

Ponder the crazy for a moment, while I giggle again, because the title of the following Twitchy report is producing tears of mirth!

BREAKING: Alex Jones has exclusive photos of Bilderbergers jogging, looking out windows, sitting [pics]

Jones has apparently traveled to Denmark, where the annual conference is being held this year – or had one of his neurotic flake cronies go over there for “exclusive” coverage of the conference.

And here we have the first photo – the “scene of the crime,” so to speak.

The comments underneath the tweeted photo are comedy gold, by the way!

There are other photos at the Twitchy link I provided above, and the comments below those are just as priceless! Jones has a photo of David Petraeus – yes, that David Petraeus – get ready for this… are you sitting down? JOGGING. I know you’re floored and appalled by this, but it’s true. The former military officer and CIA director was… um… jogging.

I know. I’m as amazed as you are. Pretty heady stuff, right?

But the really scary shit is yet to come, folks, because the intrepid InfoTard has captured a Bilderberg participant…


*cue Beethoven’s 5th symphony*

Anyway, you’ve got to read the rest of this. It’s fairly hilarious, and just what’s needed on a Friday afternoon.


Next time, pick up a newspaper


You know what uninformed votes get you?



Meet the ObamaCare PajamaDouche (UPDATED)


So by now, I’m sure you’ve at least heard about the hilarity that ensued after a pajama-clad Organizing for Action dweeb was portrayed in an ad, encouraging clueless morons to accost their families about ObamaCare this winter.

pajama dork

UberDork here has become an Internet sensation, with ridicule pouring in from all corners of the Interwebz. Because sitting around in your onesie with a somewhat vacuous, but nevertheless arrogant look on your face, as if to say, “Mom and dad, I love you, but you really are quite stupid for not genuflecting in gratitude in front of Dear Leader’s creation,” is not even remotely reminiscent of the at least one Jolt Cola-slurping, Twinkie eating, basement-dwelling, metrosexual hipster virgin we all know! Not at all!

mock one

Well, the insufferable PajamaDouche has been outed. His name is Ethan Krup, and he’s an OFA employee. He also thinks he’s wicked cool for being a sensation on the Interwebs.

UberArrogant PajamaDouche does not get it. He’s not cool. He’s the object of ridicule, because he is promoting a program that has so far been a massive FAIL with hundreds of thousands of sick people losing their health coverage, and because his arrogant, slightly androgynous and creepy. And he reminds me of Pat from Saturday Night Live, the sexually ambiguous androgynoid, who drove you crazy as you felt like you were so close to figuring out what sort of plumbing it had!


Look familiar?

Here’s Ethan with a bunch of people at OFA who also never get laid.


The short chick may get a date every so often, but she’s probably so shrill and annoying, that any date she manages to get probably wants to stick a spork in his (or her) ear drum just to escape the ShrewSpew.

Well congrats, PajamaDouche! Everyone now knows who you are, and if they didn’t think you were an assweasel before you became an Internet sensation, chances are they now know, and you will remain a virgin well into your 40s.

UPDATE: Salgak, one of our awesome commenters created the following. LOVE IT!

Or testicles.

…Or testicles

Ever get tired of the Mediots?


The Onion’s got your back.

The media sucks.


War is hell


First, some good news. I just got the call that I am to return to work tomorrow. Still not sure about back pay, but that doesn’t even matter, because even though some bills will be late, we will still make rent in November! YAY for that!

Now that that’s over with…

I can’t help but want to stir up some shit.

When I woke up this morning, I saw this story on one of my friends’ Facebook pages. It’s the story of a young Air Force officer, who deployed to Afghanistan and came home to untold stress and trauma.

Was she captured by the enemy? No.

Was she in a firefight and saw numerous battle buddies blown into bits? No.

Was she injured by the enemy? Nope.

‘Wearing my bulletproof vest and helmet, carrying an M4 rifle and M9 pistol, with 225 rounds of ammunition strapped to my chest, I looked much tougher than I felt,’ she recounted.


Limited internet and phone service added to her feelings of vulnerability as did the fact she was a woman in predominantly a man’s world.

The the pretty brunette said that sexual assault a constant worry for her on the front line, because she ‘knew the stories’ and  ‘overheard vulgar talk.’

Oh noes! We haz no Internets and phone! I had to wear a HELMET and ammo strapped to my chest like a real member of the military or something! And the vulgar stories!

Oh, the humanity!

And apparently the food was not up to her usual standards either.

The traumatic, horrid experience affected the Princess in horrible ways!

Recalling her state of mind, she writes: ‘Nearly every night I get takeout from the same place. I’m too tired to cool and too antisocial to spend any more time in a restaurant than it takes to pay.’

She also found getting to sleep on her quiet army base an ‘extreme problem’, as she missed the white noise of war.

The lack of ‘helicopters,’ ‘rumbling armored vehicles’ and ‘chatting smokers on break’, she said, made for an ‘unsettling peace’.

And back at her desk job as a public affairs officer, she found it difficult to maintain focus because ‘everything seemed trivial’ in light of what she’d been through.

So her hardship includes takeout from the same place, no restaurants and the inability to do her job, because she heard rumors of sexual assault and was paranoid downrange.


I’m wondering if Princess thought she was joining the military or the Girl Scouts! Although, she’d probably cry in the Girl Scouts too, because some cranky old lady only bought three boxes of cookies instead of four!

I was deployed to Kosovo in 2007. I did not see battle. I was outside the wire all the time. I had to wear full battle rattle, and carry weapons on my person.

Somehow, I didn’t come back with any kind of adjustment disorder, and there was no sand in my vagina after the deployment.

This one… I’m seriously appalled at the thought that this snowflake is airing her “trauma” pity party to the world as if it was a war story!

For the record, Princess, lack of Internets =/= trauma.

Carrying ammo around in full battle rattle =/= trauma.

Being a public affairs FOBbit =/= trauma.

Being afraid of getting raped because you “heard stories” =/= trauma.

Now quit your whining, you blibbering twit!

Go read the Duffel Blog about REAL trauma!

But, according to Woodley, her most traumatic experience occurred inside the base’s Green Beans Coffee shop, where she had hoped to enjoy a chocolate-vanilla blended smoothie while catching up with friends after a long work day.

“It was about 2100 and the whole place was just crowded wall-to-wall with other soldiers and their dates. It took about fifteen minutes just to place my order. That would have been bad enough, but then they added whipped cream to my drink—I specifically asked for ‘no whip!’” Woodley paused, choking back emotion. “But the worst part, was that right after I had them remake the whole drink, and finally got the right order, the base starts getting mortared.

”In the ensuing rush to the exits, Woodley said she pulled her drink close to her chest, in order to protect it. The maneuver proved more harmful than helpful, when an “enormous” Air Force Senior Master Sergeant charged into her in a blind hysteria, crushing the frosty beverage and spilling it all over her uniform.

“It was terrifying. I had to sit in this tiny concrete bunker for 45 minutes, dripping smoothie and freezing, with two dozen other people. Half of them were crying, the other half were sipping away at their own safe, tasty drinks. I remember thinking, ‘God, please don’t let me die covered in smoothie goo.’ And I just knew the Green Beans would be closed by the time the sirens stopped, so I wouldn’t even be able to get a refund. It was the worst night of my life.”

Counseling for broken nails and lack of a pedicure too!

Dear Wal Mart


What. The. Fuck.

What. The. Flying. Fuck.


I got nothing.

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