Stop "Humping The Shrimp"

This week’s entry consists of the recollection of another dream, which I think was even funnier than the other dream in which I dreamt the "world’s funniest joke". This dream finds me, the protagonist, confronted by 4 “friends” who take a “vote” on whether I can use “quotes” anymore when I speak, signified by my fingers in crouched victory pose around my very intangible, but crushing speech. The “vote” was apparently “unanimous” and it was noted that the reason they “voted” against me was because they felt I was “humping the shrimp”! Well, I never!

To those “friends” who will remain nameless, I don’t think I could “see” them in my dream anyways, but their whiney bitching echoed resoundingly, I say: “fuck”. Every time you guys give me a hard time, I will accuse YOU of “humping the shrimp” – so there!

Brand this! Mo Fo! (or, How I Learned to Make Shit Up, Thanks to Dungeons & Dragons and not Kill All of my Friends in Some Midnight Sewer Exploration)

Fuct-Tape says:
"so Mr. P, how do we rebrand the College?"
Fuct-Tape says:
Well, first off, don't think of it as a College anymore, think of it as a metal monster, with laser eyes, menacing grimace and an insatiable taste for human feces
Fuct-Tape says:
then just release it downtown toronto. Voila
Fuct-Tape says:
let it make its own white hot brand on the psyche of Torontonians

I crapped Cat Circus - Thanks Hilby! No Really?

It was very recently that I had the pleasure of watching the Moscow Cat Circus. When I say “recently” I mean that there was some time that passed between me writing this and me actually viewing the Circus, although given your relative position in the time continuum, you may have no idea what I’m talking about until tomorrow.

The Cat Circus made my Fiancé almost pee her pants or possibly herniated one of her vital internal organs while trying to expel her laughter at a rate that would biometrically match her intake of precious life resources (in this case oxygen). The Cat Circus of Moscow consisted of a cat being placed on a ball and then made to stand up (which I think was some rod inserted into the spine of the cat while we were made to look at some dog pushing a cat across the stage seemingly out of performance order) and then the cat was dressed in a lovely Victorian vintage dress (high neck and no empire waist). Once that cat was dressed accordingly, the ball was lifted high above the heads of the audience so that we could all revel in awe of the dressed cat beauty.

I think that if you are one of those people who are aroused by cat-humanoids then you would have been riding the magic pillow pony to Toonses Town after that little torrid tease – thank god there were no ankles to be seen. Do cats even have ankles? I think that, gauging the cats obvious apathy and despair, the cat really just wished that she had enough explosive strapped to her to take out everyone within a 100 meter radius. I would let that cat “out of the bag” so to speak, because I really think that people who want to have "relations" with animals are REALLY wrong. Unless the cat asks you for a torrid affair, you really shouldn’t be having those Prince songs going through your head everytime you look at your pet. (aside - ew!)

I edited the above, because I know other workmates will eventually discover this page. For your information I deleted the parts about how the Commies where planning to overthrow our puppet government and install a cat goverment. I gave names, times and breeds.

The day I invented Christmas

I used to work at Santa's Village, so I pretty much invented Christmas. In your face Dickens! LOL Dickens' face - dick face!!!! Any how, I believe that this card that I designed for our illustrious school says it all.

In examining the above work, for art historical purposes, I would like to bring your attention to the subtle but ironic use of Tentacle. In this picture the use of Tentacle does not so much look like or refer to some kind of genital deformation, as much as it does signify a cancer on the naive depiction of the most important building in the entire universe. The artist's past use of Tentacle and crudely hewn MS Paint drawings are more about an anger that must be expressed in an art form that reminds us of the art of retards and the mentally devoid. Surely there is a great effort made to disguise the real talent of the artist by "dumbing down" his pictures for an audience that is clearly 2 stupid to read Peanuts cartoons (i.e. this would be the later years, after the death of Charles Schulz, as the early Peanuts are really fucking smarty pants and depressing - fuck you Snoopy bastard dog of selfish and unkindly id bum pickling intellect!!!!!). The END.