They had been friends since childhood.
That’s what made it so, so difficult. Impossible, even.
Karl just didn’t know how to tell Lenny that the long white nose hair thing?
Well, it was really grossing him out.
[From the Toulouse Le Grandfig Collection]
No regrets man, that’s for the weak.
Like I said, you punk, no regrets! But if you’re worried about what you’re new government is going to do, just remember that it’s only for a few precious years of your life.
Besides, eventually party discipline will break down and the religious nutters will start saying things like, “hey, let’s have a free vote on abortion!” and, “it would be cool if everyone in Canada accepted Jesus as their personal saviour.”
But THEN who will you vote for?
See, your life really would be so much easier if you didn’t have to think about these things, and let an experienced intergalactic overlord take care of you. I happen to know one who’s currently between galactic empires.
A new and lively Carnival of Liberty is available at Combs Spouts Off, where the frothiness of our submission, Dr. Tundra forsakes the Flying Spaghetti Monster is quite rightly pointed out.
This is hilarious.
No wait, this list of America’s most loathsome people is more hilarious. George Lucas is #44 and this is his sentence:
Cast into the gaping maw of Tatooine’s all-powerful Sarlacc and digested alive for a thousand years, along with a talkative Jar Jar Binks.
Warning: best taken in small doses.
What you didn’t find any of that funny? Then heeeeere’s your sign.
It had been quite a ride. Eight weeks of peyote. A binge that would have put Carlos Castenda to shame, but it had been worth it.
He’d taken the psychedelic road trip while following the election campaign — it had seemed like the only way to make an sense of it, really. But now, it was time to actually decide which of the parties was going to get his vote this time around.
He certainly couldn’t vote for the Liberals again. He was a peyote-addicted, unlicensed physician with somewhat suspect personal hygiene and a penchant for fried bologna. He wasn’t deranged. Nor an amnesiac.
If he gave the Liberals another shot at it, they would continue to take him for granted. In fact, Dr. Tundra suspected that Canada would never have an honest government again.
Not that he gave them serious consideration, but the surge in the polls made him at least take a look at the Conservatives. (He’d done this between bouts of vomiting, after a particularly toxic batch of peyote-laced oatmeal.) While they seemed less extreme than before, Dr. Tundra suspected a hidden agenda. And that Harper. Well, just one look in those cold dead eyes was enough to cause hims such anxiety and revulsion that he hid under his bed for two days.
Jack Layton and the NDP, on the other hand, repulsed him for different reasons. “Give us your vote. Help us be a strong opposition.” Tundra wanted to vote for a winner.
The only other viable option was the Green Party, which was still seen as a fringe group — they definitely couldn’t win, but perhaps if they got a couple of seats, their voice might infuse some new ideas in the House.
Of course, that was probably the papaya mescaline milkshakes talking.
Dr. Tundra wisely didn’t say anything back to them. He knew better than to talk politics with dairy products.
Photo by roboppy.
Another edition of the Carnival of the Godless is available at a Pixelated Mind, who has outlined his notion of Necro-autobiographical Microfiction.
And as usual, you’ll find the Best of Me Symphony, which features 60 day-old-posts, at The Owner’s Manual.
There’s a great Carnival of Insanity to check out this week at Dr. Sanity. One of the tidbits there (in addition to the green babies post) is a nice list of top 10 blogger lies. Am I a hypocrite for linking to a list, after posting this? Yes, yes I am.
The babies also made in the Modulator’s Friday Ark, which has added quite a bit of catblogging since Friday. Speaking of animal blogging, this BBC story about a hamster/snake friendship made me feeling somewhat disturbed, as though I’d just been sharing Dr. Tundra’s consciousness for a few seconds.
And speaking of a Dr. Tundra-like consciousness, the quote of the day has to go to this theatrical history prof:
“I thought to myself, ‘Let’s do a method-acting approach to the study of history and see how it works.’ I chose the Nazis because they were absolutely the most obnoxious, whacky group I could find.”
Yep, he managed to get everyone to hate him, Nazis, socialists, dog lovers, lefties, righties, cat fanciers, academics, nonacademics, and itinerant loofah salesmen. Story here, and his paper, Now It Can Be Told: Why I Pretended to be a Neo-Nazi, is pretty wild stuff, despite the fact that he mentions Jacques Derrida and Michele Foucault.