Is that Spaceman Spiff comitting public urination??

I'm always confused when I see a back window sticker of Calvin pissing on a Ford / Chevy logo. My first thought is, "Huh? We're still doing the Calvin stickers?" and My second thought is, "Huh? People have a proactive truck preference that runs so deep that they must launch a smear campaign against other truck manufacturers... which they also do not own stock in or work for on any relatable level?". Then I usually pass a Denny's and start thinking about destroying my cholesterol with a Moons Over My Hammy.

Pick Two

By Colin Harman

There. Fixed it. Happy?

How to get a lazy web designer to fix his code: Public humiliation on a social network.

Comedy Pink

Sat across the pool from this douchenozzle all day last Sunday. He was wearing super-hilarious over-sized pink novelty sunglasses. All day. Never got old. That's called "committing to the bit", folks. Once I noticed the giant Raiders shield tattoo on his shin, I started looking for the MTV Boiling Point cameras because nobody could get that lucky at selecting things that annoy the everloving shit out of me.

Frankie Says Relapse

Back in the mid-nineties, I was standing around a keg of beer at the school library discussing the new 70s fashion craze at the time. We mused over how unlikely it was that something like that could happen since the 70s were so... distinct. Someone said, "Wait until the 80s come back!" and we all laughed. Then small voice behind us said, "You know, it's going to happen.". We spun to face a girl on the couch listening to us. Well, we were likely yelling , but she was paying attention nonetheless. We all took a beat and simultaneously began our compelling "Pssshhhhh ohmygod noooo NEVER happen!!" argument. She held her ground. "It will happen. You wait.". After about an hour of similar debate, we dismissed her as being drunk, argumentative or both.

Our platform explained that the 70s craze was a fluke. Yes, the styles were weird, but aside from the disco crap, some of it was a little cool. Jim Morrison was cool, right? But the EIGHTIES?? Flock of Seagulls hair and leopard-print Zubaz?? No way. The 80s were fashion's trip to Vegas. I think everyone knows what happened and we all agreed to delete the pics.

Well dip me in sh!t, slap my ass and call me Big Poppa if that drunk chick wasn't right. They're back. It's like seeing the wildly embarrassing hook-up from last month at a party, and she's hanging all over some other poor, unknowing chump. You want to warn him, but hey, you have to live with the shame. Why shouldn't he? Misery loves company.

Now I gotta find that girl from the couch. I do believe I owe her a bajillion dollars.

Me not believing it could happen only 4 years ago.