Entries Tagged as 'Best Of TTM'
Important Safety Tip
Take it from me: when working with large objects, safety is paramount. However, even the best of us can be misinformed when it comes to proper safety protocols. This can be true of any key safety area, whether it be avoiding slips and falls, climbing up and down ladders, or lifting large objects, which brings me to my point:
Always lift large objects with your legs, and not your anus.
Seem unintuitive? That’s no surprise. To most of us, lifting with our anus is as natural as taking a breath, and indeed, for smaller and narrower objects, it is the most effective method. But when it comes to the safety of ourselves and our precious anuses, lifting with our legs is the only choice.
Myth: The anus is the strongest muscle in the body.
Fact: This widely-believed factoid is actually a half-truth. The muscles of the anus are indeed the strongest, but only when it comes to clenching. For lifting and lifted-relating motions, the legs are marginally stronger.
Myth: The anus’s sensitivity to touch is more precise than any other sense.
Fact: The anus contains no more touch receptors than any other orifice on the body. Recent research suggests that so-called “anal whispers” are phantom sensations originating in the cerebellum, and studies have shown that anal Braille readers are no more effective than those who use their hands.
Always remember the eight steps to lifting large objects:
Stand in a neutral position.
Approach the object.
Feel the object with your anus.
Embolden yourself.
Ascertain what sort of handles the object may have.
Nimbly grip the object with your appropriate appendage.
Uplift it using the muscles in your legs or anus.
Set it in its desired position.
Just remember: SAFE ANUS!
A note on handles: the type of handles on the object can be a useful hint for determining how to lift it. If the object has two indented handles on either side, or “hand handles,” it should be gripped in the hands and lifted with the legs. If, however, it has a single, plug-shaped, ribbed handle on the top (”standard handle”) it should be lifted, of course, with the anus.
Re: My Cover Letter
Dear Old Friend,
I have a question for you. Do you want to make great spam? The kind of spam that motivates people to imagine, do, and buy great things? The kind of spam that makes your readers think, “I won’t delete this immediately?” Well you’re in luck – you’ve found me.
My name is Matthew Nedostup, and I want to write spam for you. I am a writer and internet enthusiast with over ten years of online experience, most of which have been spent reading spam. In that time, I’ve learned a few things about aggressive marketing, and am ready and willing to apply them to your product, service, or scheme.
How many times have you wished you could expand your client base beyond old people who don’t understand e-mail? Well I can make it happen. I understand today’s hip, web-savvy youth, and have learned all the techniques necessary to convince them they’re not reading a robotically-generated mass mailing. These include:
- adding incongruous chunks of text from bestselling novels
- prefixing the title with “Re:”
- addressing the recipient as “old friend”
- writing in a sincere tone
and more!
Worried about my dependability? That’s wise. But don’t be! I want to work, so I’ll do what it takes to prove myself to you. Need me to work 18 hours a day? I’ve got herbal supplements that will keep me going for hours with no side effects. Need me to relocate? No problem! Whether it’s a pharmacy in Canada, a brothel in Thailand, or a palace in Nigeria, I’ll be there. After all, as my professor drmariophd taught me at Grand Cayman International Online University, “Spam knows no borders!”
So if you’re looking for a new spam writer, look no further. I’m your man! Hire me, and I’ll make you successful beyond your evilest dreams. Imagine $5000 a week without ever leaving your computer! Your business, and your penis, will grow by leaps and bounds. You can’t afford to turn this offer down! Act now! Send your contact information, along with a $10000 retainer, to the address provided in my attached resume (don’t delete the attachment!) and we’ll start negotiating. I look forward to working you.
Sincerely,
Matthew Nedostup
P.S. Asian teen whores fuck wrinkly live cam lesbian voyeur shit-stained dangling mature golden showers barely legal Japanese sucking soft ebony “Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things pricks titfuck two girls one goatse celeb real horny coed granny boner threesome sluts horse anal true love
Congratu-fucking-lations
These guys think they’re all that, but you know what? Nuh-uh!
People Who’ve Climbed K2
Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before: “Although less tall than Everest, K2 is actually a harder climb blah blah blah [jerk-off motion]” Cry me a river, pussies. Why don’t you come back when you’ve climbed the real thing, and then I’ll listen to your bitching. Cause you know what? When it comes down to it, all you’ve climbed is a huge pile of #2.
Blood Donors
What? You actually bled so some dipshit could survive falling off his trampoline? Wow, you’re a real-life superhero! I’ll tell you something; I’ve bled more in my life than a hundred blood donors, but it wasn’t in some middle school gym where they give you a band-aid and a cookie afterward. It was in back alleys and dive bars all over the country, facing off against pissant punks like you who needed a good lesson in pain. It’s called a noble cause, assholes, look it up.
Functional Illiterates
I’d tell you all what a bunch of retarded shitheads you are, but you wouldn’t even be able to read it, so here’s something you will understand:
…………………./´¯/)
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…………./´¯/’…’/´¯¯`·¸
………./’/…/…./……./¨¯\
……..(’(…´…´…. ¯~/’…’)
………\……………..’…../
……….”…\………. _.·´
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Single Parents
Let me get this straight; I’m supposed to fall down on my knees and kiss your shit just because you were too unfuckable to hold down a marriage? Why don’t you put your kid to work before you start holding out your grubby mitt for a government handout? And I know they say “children are our most valuable natural resource,” but frankly, I’d be more thankful if you’d pumped out a few tons of coal.
Firefighters
You know what? Blow me.
The Educated Traveller’s Guide to Ireland
In honor of St. Patrick’s day, when Americans are made briefly aware of Ireland as they get blind drunk, I present this travel guide. I hope it will clear up some misconceptions.
The Educated Traveller’s Guide to Ireland
Germ or German
This is a fun game I just invented. I’ll give you a name, and you have to tell me whether it describes an infectious pathogen, or a person from Germany. The answers may suprise you. Let’s play Germ or German!
1. Streptococcus pyogenes
2. Angela Merkel
3. Escherichia coli
4. Werner Herzog
5. Mycobacterium tuberculosis
6. Carl Orff
7. Helicobacter pylori
8. Martin Heidegger
—-
—-
Look, I’m sorry. I thought it would be funny; the title is catchy and it’s a good formula… no, there’s no excuse. I fucked up. I’ve just been under so much stress recently… do you ever get that feeling like a 10-ton weight is crushing down on your heart at all times, compressing it into a tiny diamond of pure pain? I’ll be fine though; it’s just tough to make it these days, especially when everyone in your life hates you and wants you to fail. Then again, that’s assuming they even care about you or know you exist, which of course they don’t ever. But you know what? It’s my fault. I got myself into all this; I tricked myself into thinking I had friends; I thought the goddamn “Germ or German” bit would be funny. I get everything wrong; I’m the idiot, right? Well fuck you! I try hard, really hard, and all I ever get from you is grief and criticism and misery! I hate you! No, you know what? I shouldn’t be taking this out on you. I mean, I don’t even know who’s reading this. I’m just in a rough spot, and I don’t know how I’m going to haul myself out. Sometimes I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a dark pit, with everything I’ve accomplished, everyone I’ve loved, behind me, and nothing before me but certain death. And it scares me, terrifies me, I mean I usually wake up in a cold sweat, but at the same time… the darkness is so utterly black, devoid of light and hope but also of suffering. Just… nothingness. It’s like… it’s calling to me. The shadow of the Dark Lord, wrapped around me like a gossamer cloak…the touch of His warped love, His hermaphroditic genitals bringing me to heights of sinful pleasure and depths of shameful degradation never dreamt of… until I simply… lose myself…
—-
—-
Answer key:
1. germ
2. German
3. germ
4. German
5. germ
6. German
7. germ
8. German
Bullets in the Rain
_____The streets were empty as I stepped out into the dank urban night. All about me, the city lay flat against the landscape, cowering from the rain that fell in great greasy droplets on its face. It was on nights like this, when the working people of this city huddled around their TV sets, that the worms would crawl out of their subterranean hideaways and go about their dirty business. It was on nights like this when the city would need me. Me? I’m a detective. My name is Drangum Bango.
_____This particular night, I was heading to Rocco’s, a dirty rat trap on the North Side. I had to see the eponymous Rocco about some answers. I hailed a cab along Rosetta driven by a dark-skinned type who looked like he didn’t have five words of English about him. I climbed in the backseat.
_____”Where to?” he asked me.
_____”Fire burning,” I said, “Cataract elbows pass me. Mercy from pancake batter… testimony!” He gave me a look that told me I wasn’t getting through. “Are we cleave?” I asked.
_____He panicked. “I don’t know what you saying, man. I don’t know!” I didn’t have time for this.
_____”Catapult ego pellets,” I explained, slowly, “Danger briefly exacerbated nomenclature enormous. Underarm enormous?” I was losing my patience. “PANTS ON FIRE!” I guess I must’ve pushed him too far, ’cause next thing I knew he was out of the cab, running down the street and shouting something in Foreigner. Never one to turn down a free ride, I got in the driver’s seat and took off uptown. I had a man to see.
_____I pulled up outside Rocco’s two hours later and parked the car in a tree. From the outside, the place was a fortress, dark and impregnable, but through the front door, it was a palace. There was more gold than a pharaoh’s tomb, the shag was so plush you couldn’t see your shoes, and even the ashtrays looked like you could eat caviar off them. This was the finest dirty money could buy.
_____The coat-check girl was a real eighteen karat number herself, much too pretty to be working in this clip joint. Smiling appreciatively, I handed her my aviator’s cap and scarf. She passed me a small ticket, and I gave her a handful of lint from my pocket. She flashed me a confused stare that was pure sex, and I walked into the bar.
_____I quickly sized up the bartender. He was a clean-cut young gun who looked like he knew everything about women and nothing about being a man. In that moment, I knew he would be a pushover. Getting his attention, I introduced myself: “Drangum Bango, PEI.” I flashed him my Robocop badge. It seemed I made him nervous. Good.
_____”Can I help you?” he ventured.
_____I told him I was looking for Rocco.
_____”Hey, I don’t know anything about any cantaloupes, man,” he insisted, backing against the bar, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
_____Deciding to play it tough, I repeated myself deliberately, while subtly flicking cigarette butts from an ashtray at him. “I-I’m getting the boss,” he stammered, running off. Finally I was getting somewhere.
_____Left alone at the bar, I attracted the attention of one of Rocco’s “quick women.” Clutching a cocktail in her delicate, angel-white claw, she slipped into the stool next to mine like a foot in a stocking. “Hey shamus,” she began, “Is that a gun in your pocket? Although I’m sure you know that old line.” This alarmed me, as I’d lately had problems telling my gun from my banana. But how could she know that? That previous day I had even thrown out my banana as a final precaution, but the next morning, there it had been on the counter again. I felt the gun in my pocket, reassured by its weight and relative hardness. I gave the hussy my Humphrey Bogart face and asked her, “Spy lantern turns over… canoodling any frock trimester?” Realizing I wasn’t one of the regular Johns, she moved off. ‘That Rocco sure knows how to pick ‘em,’ I thought to myself, lucidly.
_____Rocco was a local slime I knew well. His racket was numbers, and on the side he liked to deflower little girls. I recognized his greasy face and flashy suit across the room, following the barman back to me. We made eye contact, and his reaction was instantaneous.
_____”Oh no!” he shouted above the room, “Not him again!” He ran for the back door, but I was fast on his heels. This trail had just gotten hot. Outside, I chased him across the parking lot, shouting a warning: “Rocco! Palimpsest cage fight sumbarine! Don’t spackle!”
_____”Leave me alone, you maniac!” he yelled over his shoulder. But it was too late. I cornered him between two dumpsters and stopped to catch my breath. I was about to make him an offer he couldn’t refuse.
_____Just then, two of Rocco’s thugs came up behind me. Turning on them, I took out my gun and peeled it. Ten minutes and a whole lot of biting later, Rocco and I were alone again. I held him by his his collar and smushed the barrel of my gun against his temple. Oh, he would talk alright, he just didn’t know it yet. “Puddle,” I said, “Puddly ticking toe.”
LonelyMan0’s Profile
This is listing I found on eGo-Out.com, a popular dating website. The user was listed as LonelyMan0.
Hello, ladies only.
My name is Stam, and my last name is withheld. I would very much like to date one among you. I am a man who spends his time alone, although I am not lonely, and I would very much like one among you to spend time alone with me. Here are my personal facts:
-My name is Stam.
-I have five interests, which include sleeping, films, movies, and cutting shapes out of paper.
-I live alone, am a bachelor, and live alone in a bachelor apartment.
-I have no pets of any kind.
-My favorite beverage is to drink tea.
-I have a television, but no antenna.
-When I feel inclined, I enjoy to apply friction along the shaft of my penis until a substance emits.
-I like pottery.
-I am irate without coffee in the morning (just kidding).
-I am alone.
If we were to date, I would prefer to do things together with you. Each of these things would be:
-to drive your car
-to dance toward you
-to sit upon a romantic location with you
-to discover we are eating the same strand of noodle
-to look at the television with you
-to whisper sweet nothings in your ear with you
-to borrow your money with you
-to get to business… in the bedroom with you
If this sounds like the description of a man you would like, then I have good news: it is my description. My name is Stam. If you are interested in wooing me, then please contact me through this website within the next week (I have already purchased flowers).
I love you,
Stam
Good EVILning!
Well, BODYs and GHOULS, laDIES and gentleMOAN, it’s HELLoween, the SCAREiest FRIGHT of the FEAR! So GHOST-BONE (postpone) your prEVILous enGOUGEments, put on your GHOST FRIGHTening GHOSTume, and get DEADy tOOOOooooOOOO TRICK or TREAT!
If GORE (you’re) like me, then ROAR (you’re) proBATly CHILLED with exFRIGHTment at the iDEAD of HalloWEIRD – the SPOOKY decoRATions, the gRAPE pARRRRties, and of GOREse, all the BLOOD BLOOD (good food): BRUTE punch, pumpKILL seeds, and DEVILicious canDIE! It’s all too MUNCH fun!
HOWLoween is DEADfinitely my SLAYvorite holiDANGER, so toFRIGHT, you’ll find me BEHEADing out into the sTREATs of TARANTULA for HISSchief and SCARYment! If you see me, SLAY HELLo! And DISMEMBER:
HAG A BATTY HELL-O-MEAN!
The Moment of Anticipation
Here’s another comic straight out of my sketchbook. You know, I’m pretty productive when I don’t set goals for myself.
