Archive for April, 2010

How To Deal With Being Sick

Posted: April 29, 2010 by kaostheory in Advice
Tags: , ,

But I don’t wannnnnnnnna.

(I don’t care. That’s two articles in a row that are late. Not acceptable. Write the damn thing and write it now. – ed.)

But I’m siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick.

(But I don’t caaaaaaaaaare. Do it or you’re fired. – ed.)


(Slacker. – ed.)

FINE. God. So because my editor is a heartless bastard, I have to write an article today even though I’m practically on my deathbed. Even though my head feels like it’s packed full of railroad spikes. Even though my stomach feels all hungover even though I haven’t been slammed drunk since like Sunday. Even though I’m sleeping 20 out of 24 hours a day. Even though…

(Enough – ed.)

FINE. God. Because I don’t feel like writing anything deep and thought-provoking due to me BEING SICK (KAOS! – ed.), I’ll just inform you people as to the proper methods of dealing with BEING SICK. (I swear to God, KT… – ed.)
Cry like a baby: You’ve earned the right to, honestly. If everything hurts and you are in agony, you’re allowed to let a few tears leak out. Hell, if there’s anything you need to cry about anyways (no job, no girlfriend, death, taxes, etc.), you’re able to use “being sicker than an S&M pedophilic bloodplay enthusiast” to purge those little bastards without fear of looking wussy or as if a woman.

Be babied: This one really works if you have your mom in somewhat close proximity (shut your damn judging mouth). Note: this also only works if your mom is awesome like mine (and Pred3000s) (OH! – ed.) and not a total bitchwad like some moms are wont to be. It’s a nice feeling to just be able to sit and moan and have cocoa (laced with Bailey’s to keep your cryhole quiet) brought to you. Again, shut your damn judging mouth.

Pray for death: I mean, really, you can’t get a whole lot more melodramatic than this. Still, when light actually hurts your skin, moving out of the fetal position to do ANYTHING is an effort worthy of the highest tier of Olympic athletes, your body temperature is hotter than Julia Allison making out with Jessica Biel, your eyes feel like papayas roasting on an open fire, your stomach is all twisty and gross and your BMs could count as a superpower driving you to become a hero named “Skunkman”, you have probably at least a little legitimate cause to go ahead and do this. Not ACTUALLY die, mind you. Just give a little thought to hoping you do.

Curl up in comfy clothes: Jeans? Shirts? TIES? God no. If you’re sick, you are given the ability to only wear three things if you so choose: sleep pants (mine have South Park characters on them!), a robe or nothin’. We do recommend having a robe on OVER the starkers if only for modesty’s sake but hey, you’re sick. What do you care if someone sees your wang-dang-doodle? You’re SICK.

(KT, is this why you haven’t Skyped into the office while being sick? Because you’ve got…ugh…The Awesome unsheathed? – ed.)

Maaaaaaaaybe. On with the article, ED. You’re making me do this, so I’m doing it.

(Ugh. Sorry, I guess. – ed.)

Ignore any duties or responsibilities: Again, what do you care if someone gets mad because you forgot to post an article or file a few papers or inform the Nuclear Regulatory Commission that you are complying with all their demands on time? You’re more concerned with staying on the couch, drinking your hot Bailey’s with a little bit of cocoa in it (at this point) and watching Spongebob on your TV. And Spongebob doesn’t give two shits about widescale corruption in your workplace. Spongebob only gives two shits about Gary, Patrick, Sandy, Squidward, the Krusty Krab and YOU. Yes he does. Yes he does.

Fuck your diet: So you’re trying to be good, trying to be healthy, trying to slim down because you’re a fatty-fat fat fat. We understand. However, you’re sick. The stuff you’re trying to restrict yourself to isn’t appetizing at all and you have to eat. So as you are sick, you’re allowed to cheat. Comfort foods exist for a reason! Have toast with peanut butter on it. Have mac and cheese. Have the Double Down. Have two! (Please, for the love of God, don’t have two. – ed.) Have cocoa and booze with it. Have booze. Speaking of…

Drink: What? Like you’re going to get MORE sick? Get drunk. It might help.

Take drugs: While we don’t advocate any drug use (seriously, even pot makes you a loser – users are losers, users are losers!), we understand that in order to get healthy, you sometimes need the aid of alternatives. Not alternative medicine, you hippies. Swallowing, I don’t know, a loofah made of wheatgrass isn’t going to get rid of a sore throat. It’s just going to clog you up worse than…some…kind of drain…shut up, I’m sick. We’re talking pills to make you sleep, to keep you awake, to decongest you, to make you not queasy, to stop you from throwing up and all sorts of fun things in between. Oh, and morphine. That shit’ll make you forget you’re sick at ALL.

Sleep: Rest is certainly key when it comes to making yourself better. Your body demands that you sleep on a level less of that of a human and more on terms of that of a cat. As long as you sleep, your body can shut down higher functions in order to repair the blast zone that is your immune system. And hell, once you hit adult levels, the more sleep you can get, the better. Call it embracing a second childhood in a sense. However, there is a downside to all the sleep. This is…

Insane dreams: These can either be really fun or really really bad. Some sickness dreams can lead to you riding a mechanical taco through the middle of Berlin, wearing a tri-corn hat and waving a saber, laughing maniacally as the populace trembles under your might. Others lead to you being surrounded by college frat boys throwing eggs at your house as you’re pinned down, glasses knocked off so you can only see blurs IN YOUR DREAM, their rationale being that this is how they keep the peace and enforce order. THERE IS NO MIDDLE GROUND. It is literally (You mean figuratively – ed.) rolling the dice, even is evil, odd is just…well, odd.

(Oh that is a horrific pun, you bastard. – ed.)
Have fun interrupting my article this time, Ed?

(I just…you needed correcting. – ed.)

You sound like a Drew Frazier.


Sorry. Sorry. That was out of line. You didn’t deserve that. Nobody deserves that.

(You’re damn right. Goodbye everyone. We’ll try to get back to a normal schedule soon. – ed.)

How I Spent My Weekend

Posted: April 27, 2010 by kaostheory in Slice of Life
Tags: , , , , ,

Sometimes all you need is just a nice weekend away from everything. Or rather, a nice weekend away from ANYONE which leaves you free and clear to do whatever it is your black, cold heart desires. That’s what our Eye in the Sky, KaosTheory, had this past weekend. For his (late) article, he chose to let us in on a bit of his personal life. We hope you…

(No. No. Absolutely not. I am not going to allow this. – ed.)

What’s wrong, Ed?

(I don’t particularly feel any journalistic responsibility to let this psycho report on what he does in his spare time. It’s bad enough having to listen to his stories in the office. I don’t think that our readers have any desire to learn of his actions either. – ed.)

Well, it’s either this or nothing.

(And I can’t choose nothing, right? – ed.)


(Damn it. Fine. – ed.)
Sometimes all you need is just a nice weekend away from everything. Or rather, a nice weekend away…

(We did that part already. Just…ugh…tell us what you did. – ed.)

Ah. Good to know. Anywho.

Masturbated to “We Are Stars” while dancing around in the kitchen: This was the first, last and repeated many times over action that I took. There’s just something magical about taking care of business in places OTHER than the bedroom or the bathroom. For instance, the kitchen. Or the hallway. Or even on the stairs. And with having a mass confluence of 80s metal stars singing about how they are awesome, well…it just completes the mood. A+ work, I must say.

Doubled Down: This was probably the least healthy thing that happened. Look, sometimes a man just has to do something he knows is terrible for him. Enter an amateur MMA tournament. Attempt to juggle running power tools. And eat something that can only marginally be considered food. That is KFC’s Double Down. To start with, you have to go through a mental process to actually justify ordering and paying for the damn thing. Most people turn back before laying down eight fucking dollars for a chunk of food. And it IS a chunk. It’s not really a sandwich because a sandwich has some reason to exist. The Double Down is more like they bred some hellish abortion of genetic engineering and just sawed off a chunk of its body, a chunk consisting of two chicken breasts, bacon, two kinds of what can only generously be called “cheese” and the Colonel’s Sauce which I’m relatively sure is like…79% semen. The concept is more the problem than the actual consumption, although this bastard doesn’t sit well. Oh no. It doesn’t make you SICK but it likes to remind you constantly that you did in fact eat the nutritional equivalent of a cinder block. I blame this fully for whatever madness occurred later.

Drank a full bottle of wine: Okay, this probably added to the madness too.

Got into a combative Internet fight: It’s like this. Sometimes a dickhead says something inflammatory, something insulting, something self-righteous that you just can’t abide. Sometimes you’re drunk enough and bored enough that you can’t sit by anymore. Sometimes you start throwing verbal punches without worrying about the consequences. Sometimes the fight gets beyond a simple disagreement and into a legitimate nasty fight. Sometimes you get so offended that you see red (okay, so maybe the red was partially wine in my eyes) and throw down. Sometimes you walk away. And sometimes some self-righteous religious “scholar” cockbite named Drew Frazier wins a fight because you chose to be the bigger man and not engage in the fight anymore. Sometimes it happens. Sometimes. Not often, but sometimes.

Pretended I was Snake Plissken: This was a fun one. I went all out. Jeans and a black muscle t-shirt. Eyepatch. Cigarette. Charges placed in my arteries in my neck. Silenced Uzi. New York at night. Killed crazies who were trying to kill me. Rode in a cab with Ernest Borgnine. Stared at Adrienne Barbeau’s phenomenal breasts. Fought a giant pro wrestler and killed him with a spiked bat. Got into a fight with Isaac Hayes. Made it out in the nick of time. Destroyed the security of America by stealing a valuable intelligence tape and breaking it. I went all out. It was pretty awesome, not going to lie. Especially the breasts thing. They really were excellent.

Iron Maidened it up: Yes, I am making that a verb. It was pretty awesome. It’s been a little while since I’ve had my voice up to the range it deserves to be at, so when I can sing Hallowed Be Thy Name full force and full range, well…rocking out and singing into a telephone is not only suggested but absolutely necessary. Fact.

Cried to Jurassic Bark: Fuck you, Futurama. Seriously. You were going to have it be the mom and thought it would be LESS upsetting to be a fucking dog? Really? As I’ve said, a man is allowed to cry at three things in his life: his child’s wedding, his wife’s funeral and this fucking episode. Jesus. Now I have great big MIR-sized balls, but this isn’t damn fair. I am not ashamed.

Shot a rifle at passing cars: I hit a Mercedes. It crashed. I think I should probably go into hiding at this point.

“Liked” something on Facebook: Because I’m apparently a 13-year old girl just begging for acceptance from her peers because she feels lonely and unwanted because her boyfriend of two weeks left her for another girl he’s going to dump in two weeks and boys are stupid and gross and her periods are finally starting and it’s still scary to bleed every month and breasts are coming in and now boys are going to pay attention to her but they don’t deserve her because they treated her so bad before and her friends are friends she’ll have her entire life and now she hates her friends and they are all just horrible people and now her friends are the best again and Twilight and Justin Bieber and fucking hell, I just made myself sick.

Decided to just be awesome: It was a reasonable choice.
(You SHOT a CAR? – ed.)

Oh sure, focus on the one illegal thing I did. You didn’t comment on being awesome, did you?

(But you SHOT a CAR! – ed.)

Well, sure, everything sounds bad if you use words.

(I…see you next time, ladies and gents. Damn it. – ed.)

A Massive Retraction

Posted: April 23, 2010 by kaostheory in Interview
Tags: , , , ,

Okay. We have to be honest right now. We don’t want to be. This is not a good situation we’re in. But we are strong, self-affirmed and willing to accept responsibility when things don’t go as we planned. And when you say something wrong, you have to own up to it. That is what being a man is all about. THAT IS BEING A MAN, damnit!

Okay, so we fucked up.

No, we’re not in trouble with any of the various social organizations we’ve made fun of. No, we’re not in trouble with PETA or the US government. Not this time anyways. No, we aren’t being threatened by Revolution Muslim, those fucking cowards. No, we are in hot water with this little piss-ant organization defending koalas of all things. Yes, folks, we are getting yelled at by the Koala United National Treatment and Security Society. Apparently the KUNTSS are upset with our “slanderous portrayal” of koalas in our last article. Who would have guessed?

Anyways, in order to smooth some ruffled…fur, I guess, we invited the head of their organization, Mr. Reginald McWharter, to have a sit down with us to apologize to the organization and to become more well-informed. We’re nothing if not noble. It…um…didn’t quite go as we planned. Here’s the transcript. Judge for yourself.
Dan Eats Cat Food: Hello, Reggie. Can we call you Reggie?

Reginald McWharter: Most certainly not. We are not nearly on that level of famili-

DECF: So Reggie, what’s the bug up your ass about this time?

RM: *ahem* We, the Koala United National Treatment and Security Society…

DECF: You mean KUNTSS.

RM: Yes. We KUNTSSers are horribly offended at your indecent treatment of the mighty koala in your Earth Day article.

DECF: Clearly. Why?

RM: Multiple reasons. To begin with, you encouraged waving your…ugh…genitalia at the koala. That is wholly unacceptable.

DECF: I fail to see why.

RM: Koalas are noble creatures! They are unaccustomed to lewd and obscene behavior, especially in public.

DECF: That can’t be right. I saw three of them, just the other day, humping away like a furry little hurricane of sex. It was all teeth and yelling.

RM: Ah…quite. Secondly, your portrayal of the gentle, meek koala as a violent, bloodthirsty savage bent on revenge was completely inaccurate.

DECF: In our defense, we did make him rabid. And it was satire. Comedy. Humor, if you will.

RM: Regardless, it was beyond the scope of what we will allow. We can no longer stand idly by while smear artists like yourselves…

DECF: That’s a new one. Thanks!

RM: While…but…um…oh yes, while jackals like yourself and PETA tear away at the rights and privileges that being a koala entails!

DECF: Okay, we’re just going to let you talk yourself quiet on that one. Go right ahead, Reg.

RM: For too long has the noble koala been brought down by your societal obligations! We believe that the koala is not another species, but simply a different race of human being. They deserve all inalienable rights that this world has to offer. The right to vote. The right to marry. The right to free healthcare. The right to welfare. The right to walk and live and breathe and enjoy all that life provides in its wondrous bounty. We believe that the koala is mute, not because it lacks the capability of speech but because it chooses to hear the world and experience the world without interference. Koalas are pacifists. They do not pick up weapons. They do not kill their own kind or other kinds of beings. They respect nature and all its glory. When they eat, they only feast on the the eucalyptus leaves nearest to dying, making sure to hasten their departure from this earth with as little pain as they can experience. What you have done to koalas – YOU, Dan Eats Cat Food – is nothing short of a hate crime. Your vile slander has tarnished the very name of koalas. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.

DECF:…it’s a fucking BEAR.

RM: NO! It is a marsupial and that means that it is a different race of human, you ignorant fool.


RM: AND? Do you believe it needs to be JUDGED because it has two penises? Do you believe that it is a lesser BEING because it has two penises? I believe that it’s MORE human because of that! Do you wish that YOU had two penises? I certainly do!

DECF: I can’t say that I’ve ever wanted that, no.

RM: WELL I HAVE! It is the burden that I – and every single one of the KUNTSS – bear every single day. We were cursed with being human. We will never experience the joy of climbing through trees, eating lazily at leaves, experiencing the world, cuddling with another koala…its soft, gray fur caressing ours, musk saturating the air, filling our lungs with the promise of mating, driving us into heat, loins quivering with desire…

DECF: AND that’s where our interview ends. Thank you Reggie. We offer no apology and pray to whatever merciful God will hear us that we will be able to burn the mental image that you have just provided from our brains as soon as possible.
(KT, that was…um…gross. – ed.)

Uh, yeah. Yeah it was.

(Should…should we do something to break the awkward tension? – ed.)


(That…works. Goodnight everyone. Sorry. – ed.)

Well, apparently my revealing the details of Ed’s gross misconduct this past weekend has brought about some unintended side-effects. More specifically, Ed lost custody of his children and is about to be forced to give up on his lawsuit to regain some of the money he has lost in his divorce. My bad. As punishment, he has threatened to fire me unless I…*sigh*…do my proper penitence. While I don’t have to flog myself with spiked cords (Yet. – ed.), I do have to cover…ugh…”Earth Day”. Yes, “Earth Day”, the day when people can pretend that they give two shits about the environment by drinking out of reconstituted water bottles, eating organic mush and using toilet water to bathe in to reduce wasted water from the shower. Whee. The flogging would be less painful.

(Just do it. – ed.)

Fuck you, Nike man. But yeah, I suppose it should be done. Thankfully, we here at Dan Eats Cat Food have some different ways available for you to do Earth Day WITHOUT feeling like a smug, green, puckered asshole. We hope you use them.
Instead of going for a drive this fine day, why not pull your car outside and let it idle as you lean back and take a nap? You’re outside doing things, you’re letting yourself rest AND you’re doing your part for the environment by not driving anywhere! Everyone wins!

Instead of showering and wasting all that water negligently as you masturbate under the running water, imagining that you’re fucking in the rain, how about masturbating on your own time and just spraying your nether regions with perfume or cologne? That way you get to be comfortable as you jettison your super soldiers AND you save water by coating the atmosphere with sweet, sweet aerosol. It’s doubly good for the world.

Try doing something outside today. Don’t waste your whole day sitting inside, even if the damn NFL Draft is on and you want desperately to make sure that you don’t miss a single potential trade or draft pick since anything could have an effect on your team. Take a walk! Go throw a football around! Go to the zoo! Which reminds me…

If you go to the zoo, be sure to wave your penis at a koala. Why? You have to assert your dominance. You’re the King of the Jungle. You’re outside, walking around, eating a sno-cone. Meanwhile, they’re stuck inside an enclosure, chowing down on bamboo or whatever the fuck koalas eat. There is no possible result that isn’t awesome that could come from taunting a wild animal.

If the koala escapes, run for your goddamn life. It has seen your penis. It thirsts for your blood. Run.

Go grab a pretzel. Enjoy being safe. If you hear a chittering though, take off again. It hasn’t lost your scent yet. It’s like a furry little Sam Fisher.

Instead of throwing away a beer can, why don’t you take it out back and shoot bullets at it? This offers something that’s not just throwing the can away. Plus, the more beer you have, the more cans you have to shoot at AND the more fun you’re going to have shooting them.

We all know that you have to use the crapper at some point. Instead of using toilet paper, which doesn’t biodegrade for thousands of years, try using leaves and sticks instead. Before you do, though, be sure to check and make sure that it’s not poison ivy or poison oak or poison sumac or actually a praying mantis instead. All of those will do untold damage to your colorectal system. True fact: Cuba Gooding Jr. had this happen once. Now he shits in a bag and doesn’t have a career. A cautionary tale for us all.

Condoms add thousands of tons of waste each year to our landfills and sewer systems. If you make love to your woman today, how about going bareback? Not only do you get to save the Earth but your Major General will thank you for letting him breathe free and easy! Just remember: “Past the lips, over the tongue, look out stomach, here it ‘comes'”! That way you prevent even more waste!

Also during Sex Time…keep the lights off. Not that you don’t want to see your woman, of course. It just saves electricity and makes things more romantic in the coming moonlight. Ignore that creeping shadow in the window. I’m sure it’s nothing.

As you orgasm, be sure to…what was that? What was what? You must be hearing things after exploding so hard. Good for you. Good for you.

No, I heard something. I highly doubt that. All there is in the room is you, her, me and that koala in the corner holding a switchblade.

Wait, back up. What was that last one? A koala with a switchblade, panting with rabies and fury. Nothing to…oh.

Sweet Jesus! Run for it! No! Don’t run! They hunt by sensing movement! You’re just damning yourself, you poor stupid perverted fool!

Fuck this. I’m going to the bathroom and locking the door. You’re just going to leave your woman alone with this thing?

In a word, yes. Coward.

Fuck you. Lady, you might want to jump out that window at this point. Yes, I know it’s a second story. Trust me. What that animal wants to do with that blade is ten times worse than a couple broken ribs from jumping. I’ll meet you down there. You okay in there, pal?

Yeah, I’m good. How about you, Koala?

Hissssssssssssss. Cool. I’ll let you guys sort this out then. Peace.
(That was pretty weird, KT. – ed.)

Hey, you stopped calling me “Cockmunch”!

(…damn it. -ed.)

Cool. Until next time. DEUCES!

(You’re fired. -ed.)

The Dan Eats Cat Food Summit

Posted: April 19, 2010 by kaostheory in Slice of Life
Tags: , , , ,

This past weekend, KaosTheory and Ed made the trek down from Mt. Olympus to the Lost City of Atlanta to meet up with Pred3000, Rupert, Raybestos and Big Papa Bear (not an actual member of this website but enough of an impact player nonetheless). This…is the story of that trip. Most of it may or may not be made up.

5:00AM: KaosTheory and Ed wake up. Ed is pissed. He was, according to him, locked in the embrace of Salma Hayek who was dressed as Wonder Woman. He was also apparently close to ejaculation. KaosTheory prays thankful prayers to every deity out there that his guest bed was not soaked in editorial spermatazoa.

6:20AM: The bags are packed and thrown into the backseat of the car. A short fistfight occurs between KT and Ed to determine who gets to drive. KT wins. Ed pouts and takes a drink from his flask. It smells like gasoline mixed with Koolaid. Ed calls it “St. Elmo’s Fire”. KT decides not to ask why.

6:30AM CT – 11:30AM ET: The two engage in the drive down. The iPod allows for strong-armed rocking out.

11:30AM: The pair arrives at the apartment that Rupert and Pred3000 share. KT notices the faint smell of death surrounding the place but chooses not to mention it when Rupert gives him a glare through bloodshot eyes. KT is given the futon to sleep on as Ed claims a comforter and the bathtub. KT groans and Pred laughs nervously. This was off to a good start.

12:00PM: KT and Pred take a walk around KT’s old college campus, meeting up with a few people and discussing lunch plans. KT asks about the death smell at the apartment. Pred3000 shakes his head sadly and keeps walking. KT figures he should probably not push it.

1:00PM: KT and Pred go to pick up Rupert and Ed who by this point have taken a crowbar to Pred’s liquor cabinet and mixed somewhere around two bottles of gin, one of rum and four quarts of chardonnay into something that is ostensibly “Liquor Soup” but sounds more like “Prlibhliaahkrbh Sanelinelig”, at least to the sober minds in the room. KT decides to just throw the pair a loaf of bread and go to lunch without them.

1:15PM: KT and Pred meet Raybestos at his place to pick up some of KT’s old mail. Ray has grown a goatee and looks somewhat more evil than usual. Not a bad look, of course. The three of them then migrate to their favorite watering hole, where KT (who had been on a diet) devours a burger and a few beers. The two single members of the cabal ogle waitresses shamelessly. Ray taunts KT about his diet. KT flips him off and keeps eating. Soon, lunch is over.

2:30PM: KT and Pred hang out at Ray’s until Ed calls KT in a hurry. Something is mentioned about “facedown in the toilet”. Pred and KT bid an annoyed farewell to Ray to go take care of the situation. KT manages to convince Pred to drop him back off at the campus so that he can go for a walk with another friend of his. He spends the entire walk sucking in his gut and trying to make his voice lower than it is. Pred spends the entire course of the walk trying to revive Rupert who had passed out while throwing up in the crapper. Pred may or may not have cried in frustration.

4:00PM – 8:00PM: Angry at the irresponsibility of Ed and Rupert, KT and Pred pick up yet another friend from campus, go buy liquor, hang out back at the apartment (making sure to keep Ed and Rupert locked in the bathroom), then go get Mexican food and margaritas. After the dinner, they go release the unconscious captives and scoot off to campus to a concert.

8:00PM – 10:00PM: The concert. Panicky text messages from Ed go ignored.

10:30PM: After a quick run back to Pred’s to check on vital signs from the drunken pair, Pred and KT head to Big Papa Bear’s house to hold the Dan Eats Cat Food Summit. BPB is already there (natch) and Ray and a work colleague of his arrive soon after. Circle of Death ensues (KT has a twelve-pack of Newcastle, Pred has vodka, BPB has 151, Ray and his friend have wine and Sprite) in which stories are thrown around that the colleague has not heard before, a novelty for the group. Bohemian Rhapsody then occurs, echoing throughout the house.


1:00AM: Ray and his friend leave. The rest of the group puts on swimsuits and hits the pool/hot tub.

1:30AM – 6:00AM: We have no fucking clue. Pred and KT reach Pred’s apartment at 6 AM, way too late for the old men.

6:00AM – 12:30PM: Drunk sleep.

12:30PM: KT is awakened by a text from that sonofabitch BPB. He soon realizes how late in the day it actually is. He also realizes that he has no idea where Pred, Rupert or Ed are. This fact puts him into less of a panic than he was originally expecting.

12:31PM: Pred walks out of his room and informs KT that Rupert and Ed have been arrested for public indecency due to exposing themselves on a playground while riding a teeter-totter. Pred doesn’t feel like he cares enough to post bail. KT concurs.

12:32PM – 2:30PM: Nothing effing happens. KT and Pred sit around, nursing mild hangovers.

2:30PM: KT and Pred meet BPB at the mall for lunch. They mow through Great Wraps like Sherman through Atlanta.

3:15PM – 6:15: BPB and KT see Kick-Ass while Pred goes off to a job thingy. Lame. The movie was decent. The two then go to BPB’s house to feed his dog, then to meet Pred and Ray at the watering hole again.

6:30PM – 8:00PM: Dinner at the watering hole. Pred pronounces “fetish” as “fee-tish”. The next half hour is taken up making fun of him for it. Even now, it still amuses.

8:30PM: Pred and KT return to Pred’s apartment. Ed and Rupert have been released. They are sitting glumly on the steps to the apartment. KT and Pred try to ignore them. It fails. A brawl results in hurt feelings, a broken nose for Ed and a black eye for Pred. Rupert was glassed inside the apartment by a still-mad KT and bleeds on the carpet. Pred is very displeased.

10:30PM: KT falls asleep like a bitch because his sleep schedule was FUBAR. Pred, Rupert and Ed talk and drink for a bit then turn in as well. Night falls.


9:00AM ET – 5:00PM CT Church, lunch with another friend and then KT and Ed drive home, arguing the whole way. A fitting end. Fin.
(Well. That was wholesale slander right there. – ed.)

Prove me wrong.

(I…hrm. – ed.)

Goodnight everybody. Good to be back!

Why Certain Things Are Always Funny

Posted: April 17, 2010 by pred3000 in Informative

Certain things are always funny.  We have all noticed this.  However, no one has ever stopped to think about WHY certain things are always funny.  It is possible to see something a hundred times and, despite your better judgment, feel that tickle in your throat, that pain in your belly, and guffaw as though it was the first time.  I have studied what makes people laugh and have discovered why certain things are always funny.  I present to you my findings.

Fart Jokes-As the superior species on the planet, we have done everything we can do to deny that we are biological organisms.  This is understandable. No one wants to admit that they share traits with the lowly animals.  But then Mother Nature, that cruel, cruel mistress, comes along and makes us reveal our true selves.  Joking is the only option we have left.  It’s far better than trying to combat it.  We all know just how difficult such a thing is.  However, it is also a way for us to feel superior (you will find that a running theme of this article).  People who fart are clearly admitting their own inferiority.  Your laughter states that you believe yourself to be a higher being.  So, you are just a person with a massive ego.  You bastard.

Men getting hit in the Groin-OK, this is clearly the fault of the feminist movement. The male genitalia has been made fun of to the point that I wonder how they could ever be considered erotic.  It is away to gain control.  Women have long been the scorn of society for the simple crime of possessing a vagina.  Now, they are turning that scorn back around.  They cannot change it all the way; such an agenda would certainly raise ire.  So they do the next best thing-make us all laugh.  It’s a conspiracy people and you an thank me for revealing the truth. Next week: how the maritians killed JFK.

The infamous “rake to face” equation-Since the dawn of time, man has sought a way to conquer nature. Not only our bodies (that would be the fart joke item above) but the world around us.  We have sculpted things form nature, we have destroyed habitats in order to make dwellings ourselves.  Wouldn’t it be amusing to see nature’s haphazard attempt at vengeance.  My friends, welcome to the rake in face joke.  This occurs when someone steps on a rake and is given a face full of handle.  It is nature getting its revenge.  We believe ourselves to have conquered nature, but seeing ourselves being proven incorrect in such a harmless way is an obvious attempt to get us to laugh.  And it works like a charm.

Morbidly Obese Children-Again, this has to do with massive superiority complexes.  As a child, you always laughed at the fat kid.  The way his lunch box was filled with Twinkies. The way he was always shirts on any team. The way his cheeks made it look like he was storing food for winter.  Why is funny?  Well, you are laughing for the simple reason that it is not you having to undergo this torment.  There are a hundred things we could change about ourselves.  But we are simply too lazy to.  Enter the fat kid – he shows us exactly how our lives could be.  Of course, he too goes through the same sort of daily torment and is reduced to downward comparison.  That is why the short bus exists.

Ricky Gervais-Ricky Gervais is always funny.  His smile, his eyes, his deadpan delivery, his feeling as though he is the only one in the room worthy of listening too.  Plus, he has created more classic television (with just 24 episodes) then you ever will.  What have you done with your life?  This is what is called leading by example, people.

(Editor’s Note: A proper conclusion will be forthcoming…we hope.)

A while back, we here at Dan Eats Cat Food brought you the weirdest/sickest/funniest as hell search results that led all manner of perverts, weirdos, freaks and recovering alcoholics to our fine, fine website. It was wonderful or at least not terrible. Well, since we’re scraping the bottom of the barrel dry at this point, we’ve decided to bring you a second edition! This time we have even more effed-up searching for you to feast your eyeballs on. So, let’s do this shit.

(Really? No built-up intro? No insulting our readers or their families? No vulgar jokes about Rosie O’Donnell’s labia? – ed?)

I’m a professional, Ed. And as a professional, I find offense in your implications that would act any way otherwise.

(Seriously though. This is a joke right? You’re going to say something awful as soon as I stop paying attention right? – ed.)

I don’t intend to, no.

(Well…alright. I suppose I can believe you. That’s great. It’s nice to seeing you take your job seriously for once. – ed.)

May I continue with my article now, Ed?

(Oh. Oh yeah. By all means, go ahead. – ed.)

Alright. Let’s get this spankrag rolling!

(WHAT? – ed.)

“kama sutra edward cullen”: Oh my God. Those two things should never be in the same sentence, let ALONE the same web search. I’m going to place a bet that this is Stephenie Meyer looking for people who want to have sex with her fauxpire so she can frig herself silly and cry over her lack of talent. Am I wrong here?

“”mass effect” ball gag”: I…jigga what? This is both a terrifying concept and something that I…um…kinda want to use to exploit nerds. I’ll be…back.

“something to masturbate to”: Clearly this person has no personal standards. Either that or he’s REALLY horny. I can picture it now. “Damnit! I don’t care what it is but I want to jack off to SOMETHING. Help me, Internet. I literally don’t care what it is.” *shiver*

“pissy on balloons”:This one is more confusing than anything. Are they trying to find someone who is urinating on balloons or are they trying to find someone who going ballistic and hates balloons more than anything in the world? Is it…both?

“children only buy cereals for the prize”: Well, that and the pound and a half of refined sugar pumped in all those cereals, yeah.

“dan eats video games”: WHOA! Whoa. No. No. We only are going to make him consume cat food. Not shove an N64 cartridge down his gullet. You sick bastard. Unless of course he chooses that option. I don’t think he will though.

“+alexander from virginia, brendon from n”: I think we may have gotten our wires crossed here just a little bit. You’re looking for “WHO THE EFF KNOWS”.

“spankwire green haired and hung” AND “green haired and hung spankwire”: Oh holy crap. We may actually be a leading search result for this potential porn video. I’m not sure to be ashamed of that or proud of it. Probably neither.

“what to do when you dont have a spare ti”: A ti-what? A TI-WHAT? Tire? Tiger? TIED-UP HOOKER IN YOUR BASEMENT?

“agony anguish penelope 1”: I have a strong feeling that this is an area of the Internet we don’t want to spend a whole hell of a lot of time in.

“safe to cat food human doctor”: If you’re asking if it is safe to turn a human doctor into cat food, I wouldn’t recommend it. That technically is murder.

“getting married while in college”: GOOD LUCK, FUCKER!

“scat food move”: Um. Not sure what this is…not sure I want to know.

“why do kids put barbies in inappropriate”: I assume you’re asking why kids shove Barbies up their nether regions right? Well, it’s called experimentation and it’s a vital part of exploring their sexuality. In a way, you know that your kids are growing up. You should be proud.

“st. rupert’s day”: Now this is just a joke, right? Rupert’s a mildly retarded drunk, not a saint. If anything, he’s a Panther. (ba-dum-tisch NFL joke).

“cops sanandreas cat farts”: The…fuck? I’m not sure any of those search terms have any business being involved with each other. It’s like a confusing gangbang of ideals.

“when does a puppy male eats cat food”: Whens his owneer typess lke a fugin RETARD!

“rough masturbation porn”: Ouch. Sandpaper is a bad touch thing.

“underage daugther eat scat”: I hesitate to even put this out there but you all deserve to see what sick fucks there are on the Internet. THIS is who keeps you company. ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED? Seriously though, I hope this guy gets castrated by a runaway car.

“do felonies follow you when you move?”: Gawrsh. I dunno, Mickey. Why don’t we ask Mr. Policeman over here? Hi, Mr. Policeman! “Hi, Goofy. What can I do for you?” Me and Mickey here wanted ta know if felonies you commit follow you when you move from town to town? “Well, that’s a complicated question, Goofy, full of complicated answers. The basic answer though is…Jesus, don’t be a fucking retard. Of course they damn well follow you. You’re a criminal, you stupid asshole. Moving towns isn’t going to fucking matter. Extradition, bitch. Fuck your stupid ass.” Gawrsh! Thanks, Mr. Policeman! Did that help?

“why don’t old people die?”: Because they’re Terminators, sent from the future to kill John Connor.

“man rape cat”: Yet another one I don’t really want to know about.

“lsd welding anal beads”: I may be totally off-base here but I don’t think that whoever is searching this phrase really NEEDS any more LSD. If you’re including that with WELDING and ANAL BEADS, you’re either in for a wild weekend or are about to go into an extended stay in a federal penitentiary.

“hw to make your penise longer”: Youe mighte wante toe trye surgicale enhancemente ore evene Enzytee ore ae similare druge. Beste ofe lucke withe youre tinye dicke.

“kissher”: Kissher? Did you mean KOSHER? And why the hell would we be talking about anything kosher on this site? Cat food, man!

“rejected shotgun theme”: I really REALLY want to know what the theme was now.

“free porn feet scat”: I would make a really tasteless joke about a mud bath right now but…ew. I just grossed myself out. Ew. Ew. Ew.

“don’t worry i r jeez cat”: don’t worry i r not i can haz cheezburger site u stoopid fcker.

“loving owner rejected by cat”: Ah ha. Ahhahah. AHAHAHAHAHAHAH. NICE one! Owned by a cat. Amazing.

And finally, we have this:

“pedophilia academia”: It sounds either like a Japanese hentai or a coming-of-age school-based Disney program. I’d kinda love it if it was both.’
And there you have it. Some of the worst, most depraved stuff that the Internet has to offer leads people right to this site. I feel like I need to go take a shower now. You probably do too. Frankly, I wouldn’t blame you.


(DAMN IT! – ed.)