‫בגלל סיבות פשוטות מאוד של חוסר זמן, ופחות פשוטות של אוזניות שהתקלקלו פתע (אני לא מתכוון לכתוב על שירים חדשים בלי לשמוע אותם, ובהחלט לא מוכן להאזין למוזיקה ברמקולים של הלפטופ), לא אעלה השבוע עונג שבת. סורי (במובן של מצטער, לא במובן של סורי). אם חסרים לכם לינקים לסופ"ש, תוכלו לקבל רבים מהלינקים הפוטנציאליים של [...]‬

‫כריסמס ושנה חדשה שמתחילה בקופנגן: המסיבות הכי גדולות שהיינו בהן אי פעם‬

Today you got word of a new prescription drug that makes you more depressed but less hairy. You decided getting rid of all your dark brown arm-fuzz was worth the yawning chasm of misery you’d be throwing yourself into, so you ran out to your doc and demanded the pill immediately.

After three months on the pills, all your body hair will almost magically disappear, turning you into a smooth, sleek, pretty creature who can barely summon the energy to get out of bed in the morning. You’ll get a thrill out of moving your hand over your own skin, sliding it like an ice cube across a counter-top, and when you finally do get out of bed you’ll spend every minute bloated with dread at the thought of somehow finding a way to climb under the covers to get back into bed again. Your boyfriend says he loves it too, though you can’t understand how he could possibly find anything to love about you. You can’t understand how anyone could ever love anything. How?

After about a year you’ll stop taking the pills, not because you’ll be sick of being depressed, but because hairy will be in again.

Happy Be A More Depressed, Less Hairy You Day!

‫[פוסט מסחרי, כחלק ממבצע "מכבי הום טור"!] הגענו לשלב הזה בתחרות שבו ממש לא אכפת לי כבר מי הולך לזכות כי אני פשוט שוקע לדקות ארוכות בתמונות שנשלחו וצוחק, מתרגש, לפעמים גם מעקם את האף – אבל התמונות של התחרות תפסו לגמרי את מרכז הבמה מבחינתי. אביב גפן יכול לחכות, בואו נמשיך לקבל תמונות נהדרות [...]‬

‫שקשוקה, קארי, כל מה שטעים, ירוק ואדום. זרוב מאלתרת במטבח בקופנגן‬

Part your hair down the middle today for the very first time in your life and you’ll walk outside to find a Mercedes in your driveway instead of a Hyundai. Drive it to work where you’ll find you’re the President of the company instead of a middle-management toadie. Check your bank account and instead of a negative balance there will be a very positive one, like seven figures positive. Check your response to alcohol and discover it to be moderate and controllable. Check your demeanor at parties and find it to be gregarious. Ingest dairy and discover that you appear to be tolerant. You’ve disrupted the order of things. You’ve changed the part of your hair at age 46 and really turned things around for yourself while triggering a ripple effect that will engulf the planet in pestilence and rogue waves within as little as three months time. Why couldn’t you have just been happy with the way things were?

Happy Part It Down The Middle Day!

‫אז בתקופה האחרונה אני ממש מבולבלת. החלפתי את תמונת הפרופיל שלי לצילום אקראי של הפרופיל שלי, לא הצד המחמיא ביותר, אבל ניחא. קיבלתי בהפרש של כמה ימים שתי הודעות נוגדות למדי משני מקורות. האחת, הוזכרה בחדר 404 המגניב של עידוק, והשניה התקבלה ממש לאחרונה. אז קבלו. זוג תמונות ללא מילים (קליק להגדלה). שאלתי: שאחליף את [...]‬

‫זרוב מעריצה ולא סובלת את התייר הישראלי ‬

You came home and half the closet was empty, nothing but bare hangers swinging on the rod. Her drawers had been ransacked. Her suitcases were gone. She clearly either took off in a hurry or someone made it look like she did. Part of you wants to call the police to report an abduction, but you’re worried that she simply found out that you’ve been cheating on her. Read the note she left on the fridge:

Cameron,

I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore. It’s not because I don’t love you, I do. Or at least I did. It’s not because I’m scared of getting too committed. It’s not even because I found out that you cheat on me sometimes. I’ve known that for close to a year now and it’s something I think I can live with. What happened was today I was bored and I found myself perusing your work website, and I checked out the “Staff” link to see if there were any photos of you. I found one. Such a nightmarish one. One of you in your desk chair with your shirt sleeves rolled up, tossing a Nerf football to one of your co-workers. The caption read “Blowing off some of that 4 PM steam.”

I hope you’ll understand that I had to go. This isn’t the kind of image that one can sweep under the rug. Had I walked in on you cheating on me with one of my relatives, or murdering a small animal, or shaking hands with Karl Rove and then stuffing some bills into your pocket that he clearly slipped you during the handshake, I might be able to chalk it off as “just one of those things.” But not this. Had you told me when we meant that you were one of those guys who throws a ball around the office at work, I could have saved us both a lot of time by ending it immediately. At least I found out before we got married.

I hope you have a nice life and you won’t come looking for me. You should really stop throwing a football around the office by the way. It makes you look like you love, and I mean like really cherish, rape.

Best,

Lucille.

Happy She Found Out You’re One Of Those Guys Who Throws A Ball Around The Office At Work Day!

מסתבר שלשבתאי יש חור תחת!!

n-a-s-a:

Saturn’s Hexagon Comes to Light

Image Credit: Cassini Imaging Team, SSI, JPL, ESA, NASA

Why do I still have a blog? To link to this:
Chip Zdarsky’s Watchmen 2

Now, the original Watchmen was groundbreaking and shocking by showing Dr. Manhattan’s blue dong. I propose that we outdo that in this fight scene by showing his anus as often as possible.

0875 - אני מתקן את העברית של ילד רך בשנים
הצטרפו לדף של אבא קריר בפייסבוק: http://www.facebook.com/AbaKarirOfficial From: abakarir Views: 450 9 ratings Time: 01:31 More in Entertainment

Don’t just break up with the boy, end his life. Stick a knife in his voicebox and be sure he’ll never use it to call you in the middle of the night and trick you into sneaking away with him for another long weekend of forgetting all about the life you’re trying to make for yourself. You’re a professional lady, career-minded and a smart-dresser, and you don’t need a lowlife popping by and convincing you that 72 hours in his arms is more important than the rest of your 72 or so years on this earth.  Cut off his hands and throw them in the river so he can never use them to brush your hair away from your forehead again. Slice out his eyes and crush them under your business heels; they’ve hypnotized their last unwitting victim into getting naked at the slightest hint of a wink. Let him keep his penis because you’re not some kind of monster, but set his hair on fire, sand down his lips with a power sander and carve into his chest and stomach to rip out the muscles filling his pecs and abs with so much rock-hard steel. Once he’s in pieces and the pieces are nothing but slippery, ruddy mud, spend an evening remembering the good times. You’re not likely to find someone who so makes it happen for you again, not likely to find another Derrick again.

Happy Kill The Boy Day!