Navigation

Tag Archives | absurdism

The Frozen Soylent Green Soft Serve Processor

By on October 6, 2011 in Parody & Satire, singularity

from the 2037 Hammacher Schlemmer Glaven catalog

The Frozen Soylent Green Soft Serve ProcessorThis is the device that instantly turns Soylent Green and other flavorings into a soft-serve treat. The unit combines frozen Soylent Green and any additional Soylent products you can scavenge and instantly churns the ingredients to produce a treat with the texture of frozen yogurt or soft-serve ice cream, but without the crushing existential angst of eating people.

The chute easily accepts fruit when you can find it, but even the most affluent HSG customer is unlikely to have fruit, so it also works with Soylent Green, Soylent Red, Soylent Orange, and a wide variety of decomposing garbage; the integrated conical, spinning blade mashes and incorporates the nutrients into a silky-smooth confection. The chute, plunger, and blade are dishwasher safe. Includes a dessert storage container, four popsicle molds, recipe booklet, and the number to the Soylent Suicide Promotion hotline. Plugs into AC. (14″ H x 7 1/2″ W x 6″ D.)

Subscribe to a delicious confection of garbage in The MonkeySphere, a monthly mashing of absurd humor. When it reaches 500 subscribers, I’m giving away a Kindle. ($139 Amazon gift card, if you already got the ereader). More chances to win if you buy one of my books. Full contest details here.

Alltop prefers people.

The five second rule

By on August 5, 2011 in Monkeys!, Skwibby fiction

zenball It was the best game of zenball ever, and the crowd was wild with excitement: the whisper of butterfly wings was deafening.

The Rotrovra Koan Kangaroos had just scored their first all-in kensho, and the Targenville Half-Lotus Lions replied with a double-satori. The Roos launched a full-out dharma walk, but they were unable to penetrate the Lions’ impressive grasp of paradox.

The Roos had to do something or the Lions would surely win. The hush of the field filled with the deadly susurration of arrows, as they invoked the five second rule.

Afterwards, only the voice of a bamboo flute.

Alltop is the sound of one aggregator laughing. Originally appeared on Name Your Tale, Feb. 2010. Image courtesy of h. koppdelany on Flickr.

Toulouse Le Grandfig’s Summer Vacation: Voyage’s End

By on July 21, 2011 in But is it art?, Toulouse Le Grandfig

Angry menFebruary 29, 1933, Capipi Bumonsis

I sense the voyage is about to come to an end. The customs agents here are strange men. Their beards are not mellow, but wild and full of strife.

Oh, for a helping of soup!

But there is no rest. The man with the cane spots my imagined tail, and I am nicked. The police are angry.

They make me play whist.

About the Photographer: Toulouse Le Grandfig was a surrealist painter, photographer and writer who never gave up dadaism. Unfortunately, he was beyond the reach of traditional foot architecture.

For most of his life, the artist was perpendicular, occasionally ingested the bodily fluids of other mammals, and seldom baked.

Marvellous Hairy is cooked and ready for your delectation. You should go there and get a copy. We will send you muffins to say thank you. Speaking of muffins… Originally published July 2008.

Toulouse Le Grandfig’s Summer Vacation: Freeze the Brass…

By on July 20, 2011 in But is it art?, Toulouse Le Grandfig

Bugler's Mouth strikes the ship!April 12, Jungian Analysis

Swollen cheeks and brass protuberances strike the crew of the Good Ship Plotkin. It is the worst outbreak of Bugler’s Mouth I’ve seen since the Great War. One by one, the crew is afflicted, and I am left alone to man the ship with “Ahoy Gregor you great walloping pederast.” Alas, my monkey burns…

Next Time: Angry Beards

About the Photographer: Toulouse Le Grandfig was a surrealist painter, photographer and writer who never gave up dadaism. Also, he played with an incomplete deck of cards.

Insert obvious dice-short-a-few-spots joke here. Then insert your purchase chip and buy Marvellous Hairy here. Don’t mention “insertion” while you’re here. Originally published July 2008.

Toulouse Le Grandfig’s Summer Vacation: Kiss-meat

By on July 19, 2011 in But is it art?, Toulouse Le Grandfig

The FatesSS Plotkin, circa. 1901

I separate the mists of time like the Great Jabber Monkey’s own cosmic speculum.

The Fates glare at me as I slowly walk up the gangway: Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos.

“You cannot avoid your destiny,” Clotho says to me, her sea-cap at a jaunty angle.

“No,” Lachesis affirmed. “There is no escape.”

“Arf!” said Atropos, and then piddled on Clotho’s gaberdine cruiseware.

Next Time: A Brassademic

About the Photographer: Toulouse Le Grandfig was a surrealist painter, photographer and writer who never gave up dadaism. Also, he played a mean sousaphone.

The staff apologies for the inadvertent classical allusions used in this post. If you would show us by purchasing a copy of Marvellous Hairy, we’d appreciate it. Then mess with these people. Originally published July 2008.