Category Archives: Funny


So I made a thing.

It’s a song thing.

About A+



Lyrics (+foreword) below the fold:
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Archery and Amazons

So there’s this myth I’ve heard, about how Amazon women supposedly cut off their right breast in order to shoot better, because it got in the way or something.

Upon first hearing this, I dismissed it as millenia-old misogyny, of the “women can’t naturally do things men do.”

Now, I’m not about to say I’ve stopped dismissing it as misogyny. It still is. But my view became more nuanced once I became an archer myself.

For lack of a better way to describe why, I drew out a, um, diagram of a particular issue faced by me and other female archers;

Bow string drawn across chest + jutting boobs = nipple bruise a la bowstring

So really, wrong boob. Unless all Amazons were left handed.

I really want to draw what a nipplebruise looks like when kindly donated by a bowstring, but I’m nicer than that and I’m not sure that wordpress would be keen on me doing that.  Just picture a breast, and superimpose a 4-inch-by-2-inch bruise that really looks less ‘bruise’ and more ‘purple skin and fucked up red splotches that make it look like you’re bleeding under the skin’.


You know, they make guards for your arm for this kind of thing. They make special gloves for your fingers so that you don’t hurt them holding the string. I’ve even heard of people with face guards because they can’t stop slapping themselves when releasing the string.

But should you be so lucky as to find a guard for the chest, it’ll be made (primarily) for men. To, um, hold back clothing. And they’re flat. Which really works well on something curved. Like boobs.

FUN FACT: I hit myself in the boob almost every shot I took while practicing yesterday. This is a few dozen times. It’s like having someone poking a bruise repeatedly, except actually they punch it with all of the force and hatred inside of them.


Little crocheted uterus, plus the most adorable kitty face.

With equally cute things;

Cuterus with My Little Pony friends.

Note the sparkles. Not the Twilight Sparkles, the glittery type.

This is where it has lived since I made it. It’s nice having a cat-faced uterus stare you down while you’re on the computer, really.

I was going to send it to a male representative in order to sway him to not be an idiot,  But sweet evil Jesus it’s too cute.

And so it is all mine.

Steve Irwin, privileged asshole hunter.

This is either the worst thing I’ve ever made, or my magnum opus.

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Abortion Cake

Two warnings: This post is image heavy as hell; if you have a slow connection, be warned.

Second, it treats the topic of abortion with a lot of levity, so if you’re particularly sensitive about such things this might not be a good post to read. I felt it needed a bit of a trigger warning.

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“Political Correctness”

It’s 3am, Jon Stewart is failing to lull me to sleep, and it’s not like there are better things for me to be doing!

Time for a post I’ve thought about and put off for a few forevers now.

Political correctness!

You know, the bane of those brave souls who dare to say the bigoted shit that we all think, who believe that you can laugh at anything, who challenge the status quo of… people attempting to challenge a fucked up status quo.

Such heroes. In fact, lets just have a moment of silence to honor their bravery.

Right, so. Political correctness. That moment of silence? So long as you didn’t think anything whatsoever, you were being politically correct. At least that’s what those champions of reason have been saying. You just can’t say anything that doesn’t offend someone, am I right?


But that’s how those, ah, champions of reason see it. They can hardly speak, with everything they say being deemed as offensive by those oversensitive liberals spouting nonsense about “political correctness.”

Oh, woops, got that mixed up. It’s actually entitled assholes spouting nonsense about “political correctness.”

to lose the whole “bigoted assholes function on logic” pretense, surely I’m not the only one who’s noticed that I’ve only ever heard that phrase used seriously in the context of someone explaining how they’re oppressed by people calling them assholes.

That’s not even hyperbolic. I literally cannot recall a time when someone has said, without an ounce of mockery or sarcasm in their voice, “Oh, you can’t say that, it’s not politically correct.”

And I would dare to gamble that nobody who actually believes in equality has ever used political correctness as a legitimate reason not to be hateful against people.

This is for the same reason that, when a sane person is asked why they don’t rape and murder people, they tend not to just shrug and mumble something about politics.

Because it’s not politics. Racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia… the list goes on. Those aren’t political issues. Engaging in those behaviors doesn’t make you politically incorrect.

It makes you morally incorrect. Please, please say I don’t need to explain the difference.

There is no politics about it. Hell, politics is rife with bigotry. If anything, being a bigoted asshat actually does make you politically correct.

When I tell you that it’s wrong to say something, I’m not playing politics. I don’t make up things like “it’s offensive to call trans people trannies” or “you shouldn’t refer to women as bitches” or “Seriously, stop trying to insist that you shouldn’t get flac for using racial slurs just because the victims of those slurs reclaimed them” just for the amusement of watching you play some sort of politically-acceptable-speech-twister or something. On top of the fact that I don’t make such things up in the first place, it’s simply not for some arbitrarily determined restrictions I want to place on you.

It’s because there are actual good reasons to observe such restrictions. It’s because actual people are hurt in actual ways when you don’t. If you don’t observe them, that doesn’t make you politically incorrect- it just makes you a bad person.

But you know, that’s fine (not really). But at least admit it. Don’t try to take some superficial high ground, claiming to just be politically incorrect as if you’re some sort of weird, hateful martyr. Own up to being terrible and not caring. Don’t try to fool yourself and others into thinking you’re not- if you did actually care, anyways, you wouldn’t be defending being an asshole in the first place.

Really. When you want to claim that everyone thinks bigoted things (they don’t), when you want to say that you can joke about everything (without explaining why, with such an extensive sense of humor, you still resort to the cheapest forms of humor), when you get mad over the fact that your position of power is being challenged so that you might have to assume a position of slightly less but still dominant power, at the very least top that off with “and I’m not afraid to say that, because I have come to terms with being an awful person.” You don’t have to martyr yourself.

Right, so, I think that was everything I meant to accomplish with this post. It’s 4:30 now.

I’m not feeling as successful as I should. Sorta seems like this whole post is just a big jumble of random hatred and sarcasm and some third thing messily forged together. It kinda feels like I saw it off in the distance, glimmering with potential wit and insight, and committed myself to bringing it to you. And then somewhere in between deciding I wanted it and actually retrieving it I guess I got a bit clumsy and I just ended up dropping this mangled, bloody, mostly dead thing at your doorstep and now it’s there for you to deal with.

It’s a gift. Love it.

I probably should have just proofread instead of typing that.

But oh, month old episodes of The Daily Show and sleepy time beckon.

I have acquired babies! Oh, and CATURDAY

So I’m at Hobby Lobby looking for glittery pink yarn so that I can crochet a uterus and send it to a male representative, right?


And what do I find as I wander aimlessly through the aisles?


Little plastic babies.

The most important ingredient to my abortion cake, which I’d been putting off making because babies are so hard to find!

But now I’ve found them, while looking for the stuff to crochet a uterus with. If fate/gods/etc. were actual things, this would totally be proof that they love both irony and abortions.

Anyways I forgot to take a picture of the packaging, which is a shame, because the brand seemed to be “Bag of Chips”, and that’s a pretty wonderful thing to see on a bag of babies.

But in lieu of that, here’s a picture of my cat covered in little babies:

This is why you should always spay and neuter your pets.

Illustrating my belief that unwanted babies are essentially just glorified parasites.

Judging by her expression, she agrees!

Fetuses are probably pretty high in protein!

She also seems to think that babies make for good eatings.

She’d make a good Atheist, if that was even a thing that cats could be. Pretty sure there’s no point behind having cat Atheists when you don’t cat Theists.

Though there are catlicks, so maybe…?

Anyways, I’ll get a post up on how to make abortion cakes soon! Probably tomorrow. It’ll be delicious.

Amazon Makes Me So Happy

It’s 5am, I woke up at midnight, and I’m bored as hell.

As a result, I’ve found a way to amuse myself.


For a while, I’ve wanted to bake an abortion cake. Not a cake made out of abortions- honestly that sounds kind of icky, and I don’t think I could actually round up enough abortions for that anyways. More a cake that basically just says “Wheee, abortion!” Because in my opinion the process of evicting a clump of freeloading cells from a uterus needs less stigma and more cake.

Anyways, as I sat bored out of my god-damned mind because there was nothing on the internet and My Little Pony wasn’t coming on for another few hours, my mind wandered. Wandered straight into abortion cake land.

So I began to plan for how I would go about making an abortion cake. One thing I knew for sure, it needed some of those babies you put in king cake. I had king cake once when I was in preschool, and being a really fucked up toddler I absolutely loved eating babies in a cake, so that memory has stuck in my mind and I’ve wanted to eat babies in a cake again ever since. Now I’ve got an excuse to make a cake with babies in it, so I pretty much can’t not.

It turns out though, king cake babies are hard to find. There don’t seem to be any in stores around me, at least not according to Google.

Amazon had a lot of little plastic babies though!

And as I scrolled through the list of items that came up when I searched for “Plastic Baby”…


Oh Amazon.


I can’t decide if frothy mixtures of lube and fecal matter made Rick Santorum more disgusting, or if Rick Santorum made frothy mixtures of lube and fecal matter more disgusting


EDIT: WordPress, why did you suggest “Fecal Matter” as a tag after I published this? Is this a commonly used tag?

I’ve been thinking.

You know those kids who are really gifted when they first start school, really prodigious and stuff? Full of great ideas, envied by their peers, teachers use them as a role model, pretty much just all around great?

And then once they hit high school they just stop giving a shit because they’re so used to being the best, so they let their minds rot, get involved in weird shit and only manage to coast through success because it’s second nature to them?

And then they ultimately end up an embarrassment because of all the potential they waste?

That’s sort of how I think of the US.