An engineer, a mathematician, and a physicist are each presented with a beautiful woman, standing 8 feet away from them, and the stipulation that at each time interval, they may move half of the remaining distance towards her.
The mathematician concludes that after N iterations there will be 8 divided by 2N feet remaining which will never equal zero so he gives up on the spot.
The physicist opines that if each iteration requires a finite amount of energy then the energy expended in the approach will be inversely proportional to the distance remaining and gives up on the spot.
The engineer says "8 feet, 4 feet, 2 feet, 1 foot, 6 inches... that's close enough."
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Shaq inquires about the gustatory merits of his orifice...
According to Shaquille O'Neill, the feud between Shaq and Kobe was all marketing.
Shaq, I love ya, but come on, you had to enjoy this more than a little bit...
Shaq, I love ya, but come on, you had to enjoy this more than a little bit...
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Get Your War On (important cartoon)
Click to see them in full size and better clarity. First, the funny one...
Second, the striking one...
Note: This is an incredibly important cartoon. After all the criticisms aimed at Bush and the right the past few years, it signals Get Your War On's willingness to go after any administration that doesn't deliver. Good on him.
Second, the striking one...
Note: This is an incredibly important cartoon. After all the criticisms aimed at Bush and the right the past few years, it signals Get Your War On's willingness to go after any administration that doesn't deliver. Good on him.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Gregg Easterbrook on Kurt Warner and Super Bowl XLIII
At Raymond James Stadium on Sunday, when not watching the action or checking out cheer-babes, I will be nervously scanning the skies overhead, watching vigilantly for alien starcruisers decloaking. Pregame flyover pilots: If you see a fusion drive wake, be alert. You don't seriously think "Kurt Warner" is of this world, do you?
Tuesday Morning Quarterback began in 2000, just after an undrafted former Iowa Barnstormer and grocery-store bagger calling himself "Kurt Warner" went from unknown to Super Bowl MVP in a single season. I proposed there was no terrestrial explanation for this phenomenon. "Warner," I said, must be a shape-shifting space alien sent to Earth to distract us from the approach of an interstellar invasion fleet. Here's an authentic 2001 TMQ in which I both call "Warner" a space alien and debut the now-retired cognomen, the Arizona (Caution: May Contain Football-Like Substance) Cardinals. When no invasion fleet ever dropped out of hyperspace, I stopped making the Warner-as-alien claim, which was always somewhat thinly sourced. And my paranoia has diminished. If an alien invasion fleet dropped out of hyperspace today, they'd take one look at the U.S. national debt and gun the impulse engines to another more promising world. After "Warner" was shown the door by the Rams, then shown the door by the Giants, I began to think maybe he was a Homo sapien after all.
Now the Arizona Cardinals, led by "Kurt Warner," are in the Super Bowl. Now I realize his identity -- "Warner" is a Tralfamadorian. In several Kurt Vonnegut novels, the Tralfamadorians are an ancient super-advanced alien race that means no harm, but intervenes with lesser civilizations for amusement. Tralfamadorians look like walking toilet plungers. Many foibles of human history have been their doing, as are many features of Earth. The Tralfamadorians, for example, manipulated construction of the Great Wall of China so that its apparent random zig-zags, when viewed from orbit, spell out a naughty word in their language; Tralfamadorians find this hugely hilarious. The fate of humanity? That's pretty funny to them, too.
If you wanted to manipulate history such that a global practical joke was staged, you'd put the Arizona Cardinals into the Super Bowl. Thus I finally understand the true mission of "Kurt Warner" -- to ingratiate himself into our society and culture, set himself up in a completely impossible situation, then cause something that is amusing when viewed from orbit. The idea of the Arizona Cardinals in the Super Bowl is pretty amusing. And at this point, even Super Bowl parties can be viewed from orbit. If the Cardinals win the Super Bowl, it will become arguably the most improbable major victory in all of sports lore. Moments after the Lombardi Trophy presentation, expect a starcruiser to decloak and beam out "Kurt Warner" for return to his home world. Don't bother taking cell phone pictures -- the starcruiser will not appear on film.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
A woman meets a man at the bar...
(hat tip to Marla Singer's Laundry, over at Fark)
A woman meets a man in a bar. They talk; they connect; they end up leaving together.
They get back to his place, and as he shows her around his apartment, she notices that one wall of his bedroom is completely filled with soft, sweet, cuddly teddy bears. There are three shelves in the bedroom, with hundreds and hundreds of cute, cuddly teddy bears, carefully placed in rows covering the entire wall!
It was obvious that he had taken quite some time to lovingly arrange them and she was immediately touched by the amount of thought he had put into organizing the display. There were small bears all along the bottom shelf, medium-sized bears covering the length of the middle shelf, and huge, enormous bears running all the way along the top shelf.
She found it strange for an obviously masculine guy to have such a large a collection of teddy bears, but doesn't mention this to him, and actually is quite impressed by his sensitive side.
They share a bottle of wine and continue talking and, after a while, she finds herself thinking, "Oh my God! Maybe, this guy could be the one! Maybe he could be the future father my children?" She turns to him and kisses him lightly on the lips. He responds warmly.
They continue to kiss, the passion builds, and he romantically lifts her in his arms and carries her into his bedroom where they rip off each other's clothes and make hot, steamy love. She is so overwhelmed that she responds with more passion, more creativity, more heat than she has ever known.
After an intense, explosive night of raw passion with this sensitive guy, they are lying there together in the afterglow. The woman rolls over, gently strokes his chest and asks coyly, "Well, how was it?"
The guy gently smiles at her, strokes her cheek, looks deeply into her eyes, and says, "Help yourself to any prize from the middle shelf."
A woman meets a man in a bar. They talk; they connect; they end up leaving together.
They get back to his place, and as he shows her around his apartment, she notices that one wall of his bedroom is completely filled with soft, sweet, cuddly teddy bears. There are three shelves in the bedroom, with hundreds and hundreds of cute, cuddly teddy bears, carefully placed in rows covering the entire wall!
It was obvious that he had taken quite some time to lovingly arrange them and she was immediately touched by the amount of thought he had put into organizing the display. There were small bears all along the bottom shelf, medium-sized bears covering the length of the middle shelf, and huge, enormous bears running all the way along the top shelf.
She found it strange for an obviously masculine guy to have such a large a collection of teddy bears, but doesn't mention this to him, and actually is quite impressed by his sensitive side.
They share a bottle of wine and continue talking and, after a while, she finds herself thinking, "Oh my God! Maybe, this guy could be the one! Maybe he could be the future father my children?" She turns to him and kisses him lightly on the lips. He responds warmly.
They continue to kiss, the passion builds, and he romantically lifts her in his arms and carries her into his bedroom where they rip off each other's clothes and make hot, steamy love. She is so overwhelmed that she responds with more passion, more creativity, more heat than she has ever known.
After an intense, explosive night of raw passion with this sensitive guy, they are lying there together in the afterglow. The woman rolls over, gently strokes his chest and asks coyly, "Well, how was it?"
The guy gently smiles at her, strokes her cheek, looks deeply into her eyes, and says, "Help yourself to any prize from the middle shelf."
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Lonely Island's "Jizz In My Pants"
Yeah, with 20 million views, I know I'm not exactly the first person to think this is funny, but this thing really made me laff the first time I saw it. I don't know if it's the unnecessary British accents, the fact that they always blame the girls afterwards, or the ridiculously high production quality on what's essentially an homage to splooge, but whatever it is I must have watched this a hundred times. Possibly NSFW.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Talking Dog Joke
Ok, so there's this guy... We'll call him Steve. Steve's wandering around suburbia bored out of his mind. He comes to this garage sale being run by a guy smoking a cigarette and reading a newspaper. There's a whole lot of junk that Steve isn't interested in, but then he sees a sign that says "Talking dog for sale, 10 dollars".
Steve's first thought is that the guy running the garage sale is putting him on, but his curiosity gets the better of him, so he walks up to the guy and says, "You've got a talking dog for sale?"
The guy says, "Yup. He's around back."
Steve is beside himself, but he figures that since he's not really got anything to do that afternoon, he might as well see the dog for himself. He's half expecting the dog to point to a tree and say "Bark", but he figures what the heck.
He goes around the side of the house and sees an old dog lying on his belly. The dog looks up at him.
Steve, already feeling like an idiot, looks around to make sure nobody's listening, and says, "So you're a talking dog?"
"That's right," the dog says.
Steve almost jumps out of his shoes. "What the-? How did this happen?!"
The dog sighs, and says, "Well, it's a long story. You sure you want to hear it?"
Steve says sarcastically, "Well, let me think about tha- YES. YES I want to hear it."
The dog nods. "Alright. Well, back when I was a puppy I was living in a box outside of a restaurant with my mother and five brothers and sisters. One night there was a lightning storm, and lightning struck a nearby telephone poll that landed right near us, and my mother and siblings were all electrocuted and died, but I survived, and the next day as I walked around I found myself with a curious ability... I could suddenly understand what people were saying.
"So I was hungry, and I went to the park because I saw some people there having a picnic. This one kid was there eating a sandwich by himself, and I went up and said hello and talked to him. It turns out that he was a lonely kid with an incurable disease having a day trip away from the hospital. We talked together for a long time, and I became his companion, and every day we would meet at the park to talk and play. As it happened, he began to get better. The doctors didn't know what to make of it, but the kid told them that my friendship had boosted his spirits, and they were even about to put a story in the newspaper about how a talking dog had befriended a kid and helped him get over his terminal condition.
"The story never ran, though, because the day after the reporter's interview, two Secret Service agents came by the hospital and took me away. I suppose I should have tried to escape but the kid seemed alright, and I was curious about what they wanted from me. Well, what they did was put me into a special training course where I was able to learn six different languages, and at the end of it I was used as a security dog at airports, where I would walk around pretending to be a guide dog, and I'd listen in on suspicious people who were talking together. I actually managed to break up three different terrorist attacks before they occurred just by listening in on groups of people who didn't notice me.
"Later on, though, they decided that I needed to be brought into more important missions, and at one point I went deep under cover in Afghanistan. One reconnaisance mission involved getting close to a suspected Taliban hideout in order to figure out their military strategies. The mission unfortunately went bad -- I was discovered trying to steal plans. I had to call for backup, and the troops came in to save me. The operation was a bit of a success because the group was captured and some key information was obtained, but in the process I was actually shot in the leg. It's alright now but not strong enough for active duty, so after getting a commendation I was sent out to live the rest of my life in obscurity and comfort."
Steve's jaw has been open the entire time. He stares at the dog in total silence for a few seconds after the story is over, and then says, "Hold on a sec, will you?"
"Sure," the dog says.
He runs around front to the guy running the garage sale and says, "That's a talking dog!"
"Yup," the guy says.
"And you're selling him for only 10 bucks?" Steve asks.
"That's right," the guy says.
Steve's fishing for his wallet when he pauses and asks, "Why are you selling him for so cheap?"
The guy answers, "Because he's such a fucking liar."
Steve's first thought is that the guy running the garage sale is putting him on, but his curiosity gets the better of him, so he walks up to the guy and says, "You've got a talking dog for sale?"
The guy says, "Yup. He's around back."
Steve is beside himself, but he figures that since he's not really got anything to do that afternoon, he might as well see the dog for himself. He's half expecting the dog to point to a tree and say "Bark", but he figures what the heck.
He goes around the side of the house and sees an old dog lying on his belly. The dog looks up at him.
Steve, already feeling like an idiot, looks around to make sure nobody's listening, and says, "So you're a talking dog?"
"That's right," the dog says.
Steve almost jumps out of his shoes. "What the-? How did this happen?!"
The dog sighs, and says, "Well, it's a long story. You sure you want to hear it?"
Steve says sarcastically, "Well, let me think about tha- YES. YES I want to hear it."
The dog nods. "Alright. Well, back when I was a puppy I was living in a box outside of a restaurant with my mother and five brothers and sisters. One night there was a lightning storm, and lightning struck a nearby telephone poll that landed right near us, and my mother and siblings were all electrocuted and died, but I survived, and the next day as I walked around I found myself with a curious ability... I could suddenly understand what people were saying.
"So I was hungry, and I went to the park because I saw some people there having a picnic. This one kid was there eating a sandwich by himself, and I went up and said hello and talked to him. It turns out that he was a lonely kid with an incurable disease having a day trip away from the hospital. We talked together for a long time, and I became his companion, and every day we would meet at the park to talk and play. As it happened, he began to get better. The doctors didn't know what to make of it, but the kid told them that my friendship had boosted his spirits, and they were even about to put a story in the newspaper about how a talking dog had befriended a kid and helped him get over his terminal condition.
"The story never ran, though, because the day after the reporter's interview, two Secret Service agents came by the hospital and took me away. I suppose I should have tried to escape but the kid seemed alright, and I was curious about what they wanted from me. Well, what they did was put me into a special training course where I was able to learn six different languages, and at the end of it I was used as a security dog at airports, where I would walk around pretending to be a guide dog, and I'd listen in on suspicious people who were talking together. I actually managed to break up three different terrorist attacks before they occurred just by listening in on groups of people who didn't notice me.
"Later on, though, they decided that I needed to be brought into more important missions, and at one point I went deep under cover in Afghanistan. One reconnaisance mission involved getting close to a suspected Taliban hideout in order to figure out their military strategies. The mission unfortunately went bad -- I was discovered trying to steal plans. I had to call for backup, and the troops came in to save me. The operation was a bit of a success because the group was captured and some key information was obtained, but in the process I was actually shot in the leg. It's alright now but not strong enough for active duty, so after getting a commendation I was sent out to live the rest of my life in obscurity and comfort."
Steve's jaw has been open the entire time. He stares at the dog in total silence for a few seconds after the story is over, and then says, "Hold on a sec, will you?"
"Sure," the dog says.
He runs around front to the guy running the garage sale and says, "That's a talking dog!"
"Yup," the guy says.
"And you're selling him for only 10 bucks?" Steve asks.
"That's right," the guy says.
Steve's fishing for his wallet when he pauses and asks, "Why are you selling him for so cheap?"
The guy answers, "Because he's such a fucking liar."
Friday, January 23, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Family Guy: "Peter breaking the news..."
(Sorry about the little splash screen that the guy put on his video)
Before you watch this, in this episode Peter and Brian discover that Cleveland's wife is cheating on him, and the exact lead-in is that Peter is telling Brian about how good he is at breaking bad news to people.
There's not a half-bad chance that this particular Youtube clip'll get taken down, since I think Hulu is the only party allowed to disseminate Family Guy clips over the net, and while they do have a Youtube channel, this particular clip isn't in it, and I'm not going to embed Hulu clips because they only play inside the US. Still, this is damn funny and worth hunting down -- I remember the first time I was watching Family Guy episodes and I couldn't help but think that a whole lot of it was pretty offensive, and then I saw this, and it was just SO offensive I finally got the point.
Anyways, if the above clip doesn't play, you have my apologies, and hopefully this Youtube search will get it for you.
Before you watch this, in this episode Peter and Brian discover that Cleveland's wife is cheating on him, and the exact lead-in is that Peter is telling Brian about how good he is at breaking bad news to people.
There's not a half-bad chance that this particular Youtube clip'll get taken down, since I think Hulu is the only party allowed to disseminate Family Guy clips over the net, and while they do have a Youtube channel, this particular clip isn't in it, and I'm not going to embed Hulu clips because they only play inside the US. Still, this is damn funny and worth hunting down -- I remember the first time I was watching Family Guy episodes and I couldn't help but think that a whole lot of it was pretty offensive, and then I saw this, and it was just SO offensive I finally got the point.
Anyways, if the above clip doesn't play, you have my apologies, and hopefully this Youtube search will get it for you.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Bunnies and Cats
Here's another one that I can't embed that's pretty funny as well. You may notice that this blog will feature awful things happening to cats as an ongoing theme. I hate the little fuckers.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Porcupines & BMWs
Q: What's the difference between a porcupine and a BMW?
A: The porcupine has pricks on the outside.
A: The porcupine has pricks on the outside.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
The Daily Laffer Manifesto
Alright, I'm stuck in cow-town and unable to make any money because I can't busk out here. The last two places I've lived at had problems (the first one had no hot water for two weeks, and the second had clogged plumbing for one week), and the place I almost moved into to get out of cow-town is run by an alcoholic psycho who's trying to screw me out of a damage deposit. I'm gradually running out of cash. My relationship with my family is shit. I've got a weird lump on my arm that Google says is a subcutaneous cyst but is probably the Cancer. I can't even download porn properly because this internet connection keeps cutting out. In short, things are not so hot right now.
If you know where I'm at, you know the need to have a laugh. Not just a regular chuckle, but a real fucking belly acher. I'm going to do my best to try to get one laffer up daily. I'll be choosing shit that's done this for me.
While I'm only going to choose stuff that kills me, I can't guarantee you'll find it funny. While I'm going to try to keep it safe for work, I can't guarantee that something blue won't slip through. While I'm going to put up stuff I've reviewed myself, I can't guarantee that a Youtube video or whatnot will still be there by the time you get to it. And while it's called the Daily Laffer, I can't even guarantee it's going to be daily. In all truth, you're probably better off spending your time on Fark, which is where I'm going to be finding my stuff most of the time anyway. Unless you've never used the internet before there's a pretty good chance that you'll have seen a lot of this already. I don't care. Go start your own damn blog.
So that's my manifesto. That's right, you're on a comedy blog that's being maintained by an unfunny git. Oh, and you'll probably need Flash to see half the stuff.
And yes, I know "laffer" is a dumb name for a joke. All the better blogspot names are being parked by link-farming assholes who're trying to get you to buy Viagara.
If you know where I'm at, you know the need to have a laugh. Not just a regular chuckle, but a real fucking belly acher. I'm going to do my best to try to get one laffer up daily. I'll be choosing shit that's done this for me.
While I'm only going to choose stuff that kills me, I can't guarantee you'll find it funny. While I'm going to try to keep it safe for work, I can't guarantee that something blue won't slip through. While I'm going to put up stuff I've reviewed myself, I can't guarantee that a Youtube video or whatnot will still be there by the time you get to it. And while it's called the Daily Laffer, I can't even guarantee it's going to be daily. In all truth, you're probably better off spending your time on Fark, which is where I'm going to be finding my stuff most of the time anyway. Unless you've never used the internet before there's a pretty good chance that you'll have seen a lot of this already. I don't care. Go start your own damn blog.
So that's my manifesto. That's right, you're on a comedy blog that's being maintained by an unfunny git. Oh, and you'll probably need Flash to see half the stuff.
And yes, I know "laffer" is a dumb name for a joke. All the better blogspot names are being parked by link-farming assholes who're trying to get you to buy Viagara.
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