WULAD's Haunted Halloween Grab-Bag

I triumphantly survived the earthquake, thanks for asking. Now, I have three amazing things for you today—first, I have a post up at Comedy Central's InDesicion '08 blog which features a run-down of this year's crop of frighteningly realistic political masks, such as:

Hillary Clinton
Represented: Steely-eyed lust for power; gleaming teeth sharpened on the bones of political rivals; classy yet playful hairstyle
Missed: Genuine warmth and charm; giddy anticipation of all the fun the FBI can have with Rush Limbaugh once she's elected
Accessories: One Ring to Rule Them All; tasteful pantsuit

Condoleeza Rice
Represented: Petulant dejection of reputation in tatters; urgent need to go to the bathroom
Missed: Inner jubilation at all the Halo 3 she'll have time for once Bush is out of office
Accessories: Chevron supertanker bearing her name, which she will convert to tricked-out party-yacht in retirement

Barack Obama
Represented: Giant aural appendages evolved specifically to hear problems of troubled Americans; bizarre unwillingness to talk sh*t
Missed: Amazing campaign skills just waiting to burst forth... just waiting... any day now...
Accessories: Giant sandwich board reading, "Hussein Is a Very Common Name in Africa, Not That I'm From Africa... USA! USA!"

Bill Clinton
Represented: Almost pathological empathy; cheery satisfaction that this f#*%ed up country is no longer his problem
Missed: Knowledge that he just unhooked your bra with his eyes
Accessories: Cheeseburger hidden in shirt pocket

To continue reading "Halloween on the Beltway," click here. (And in case you're wondering, yes, this means I'll be invited to all the cool parties now with people like Carlos Mencia and Rita Rudner and the cast of that show about cops in shorts.)

Second, here's my list of last-minute costume ideas based only on news items found on Yahoo's Most Popular index:

• Mangy Pennsylvania Bigfoot-Dog


• Sexy Burmese Marching Monk


• Petra Nemcova's Cleavage


• Chihuahua in a Cowboy Hat


• Mrs. Jerry Seinfeld in a Chef's Hat


• Zombie Robert Goulet


• Dog with a Shotgun

Finally, what Halloween would be complete without a stroll down memory lane for your annual read of Terrifying tales of Halloween Dorkage Past? No Halloween, that's what. Enjoy your tricking and treating, and watch out for the razor blades and perverts!

Wrapped Up Like a Rehashtastic Halloween!®

Happy Satan-Worshiper Day, everyone! This year I'm going as The Me of 2003, so accordingly, here's exactly what I would say if I were in fact myself three years ago. (I've come so far since then--I can pay for my own heroin, I've realized James Joyce sucks, and I've finally stopped voting for Lyndon LaRouche! Or at all!)

Terrifying Tales of Halloween Dorkage Past
Today is Halloween, which is of course known as a harvest celebration, an embrace of the play of life and death exemplified by the microcosm of the crops that feed us, yet indicative of the greater cycle of decay and renewal that governs all life on Earth—and it’s also a source of embarrassing stories of almost unbearable dorkiness. I include some samples from my own litany; feel free to add your own spine-tingling tales of Halloween Horror and Pants-Wetting in the comments.

• My first costume was a Pumpkin Ghost; I know that’s not particularly dorky but it does establish that I was not one of those kids who got the store-bought plastic Batman costumes, although I was secretly envious of the rows of identical Batmen and the relative bully-proof anonymity they provided.
  
  
• On my first trick-or-treat, my parents accompanied me around the neighborhood; one nice old lady invited us inside, and she happened to have a menagerie of chotchkes, trinkets, and little porcelain animals, etc. in her living room; when we were back at our house, my parents opened my bag to find, in addition to candy, a large assortment of the old woman’s personal property. Apparently I was so enamored by the idea of putting things in my bag that I happily looted her collections like they were so many boxes of Milk Duds. If I ever have a kid and he does something like that, I'll sell it all on eBay faster than you can say "old people can't use computers"!
  
  
• In second grade my dad made me a fabulous homemade costume out of cardboard, glue, colored pencils, foam, and other household items; when I asked him what I was, he said, “um… Space King!” It was a glorious costume that should have made me the envy of the schoolyard. We all know how that turned out.
  
  
• In fourth grade I was a mummy; unfortunately, while I was being “wrapped” by my babysitter, I became nauseated and threw up on my costume, staining it. We had to start over. What a dork, throwing up!
  
  
• Three years later I had a great pirate costume, but some dickhead named “Bo” stole my sword and threw it in the dumpster. That was altogether a pretty lousy, dorky year, come to think of it.
  
  
• When I was a sophomore in high school, my friends and I decided to go trick-or-treating for “the last time”; dressed up as the usual-for-high-school mutilated corpses, we worked up a complicated song-and-dance routine that we would break into as soon as someone opened the door, but we were such a bunch of rowdy teenagers that people either kept the door shut, told us we were too old, or, in the case of one old man, slammed the door in our face when we sang our first note. Dorks!
  
  
• Finally, in the greatest act of Halloween redemption since the goat’s blood-drenched-Carrie killed all her classmates (I know, that wasn’t technically on Halloween), in 2001 I wore the greatest costume ever. I found the foamcore girder on the curb outside Macy’s, which was incidentally where my friend Chelle-Belle, who deserves credit for this idea and even offered me a dollar for everyone who correctly referred to me as "Krazy Glue Guy" instead of "Super Glue Guy", worked at the time. At the office party I was awarded “Scariest Costume” (I know, what’s important is that I won the candy), and I was officially King of the Halloween Dorks, and lord of all that I surveyed! Look on my Works, Ye Mighty, and Despair!

Wrapped Up Like a Rehashtastic Thursday!®

I know, normally Fridays are supposed to be Rehashtastic®, but I decided to toss out this old thing ("I've had it for years!") today, because tomorrow--brace yourselves--will see the triumphant return of The Bible II! So feast on the following leftovers (crafted in the halcyon days of October 2004)--since tomorrow morning I'll be asking the age-old question: Are You Ready for Some Godball?!

Sequels That Somehow Never Made it Past Pre-Production

• Hamlet 2: They're Still All Dead
  
  
• A Muppet Schindler's List
  
  
• Being John Malkovitch's Kids' College Fund
  
  
• Gigli Goes Hawaiian
  
  
• Caddyshack III: The Search for the Chevy Chase We Once Thought Was Funny
  
  
• The Eighth, Ninth and Tenth Seals, with Addition of Later Seals as They Become Available
  
  
• Glory 2: Also Still All Dead
  
  
• Se8en
  
  
• Alien vs. Predator 2: Alien: Resurrection vs. Predator 3
  
  
• The Bad News Bears in Fallujah
  
  
• Koyaanisqatsi: The Extended Edition
  
  
• Bad Lieutenant II: Yep, Dead
  
  
• Three Fast, Four Furious
  
  
• Kill Bill, Vol. 3: You Guessed It—Dead
  
  
• Breaking the Waves vs. The Ice Storm
  
  
• Aguirre 2: The Wrath of God Boogaloo
  
  
• Apocalypse Now Redux II vs. Space Jam 3: Apocalypse Yao!
  
  
• 8½ II: Let's Just Round It Up to 9
  
  
• Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia Again, Would You?
  
  
• Malcom X2: Pphht.
  
  

Rerun Week: Friday!

Hey, everybody, Ernest Thomas here filling in for the ghost of Fred Berry (who had a gig at the Illinois State Fair today), with the final installment of WULAD's Rerun Week (brought to you today by Archer Daniels Midland). With any luck, WULAD Editorial Team will be back from their guest-stint at Junkiness on Monday. Until then, sit back, relax, and enjoy...

Top Excuses for Not Updating Blog
...as reported in Zok’s Prehistoric Post-Examiner and Ladies’ Cave Journal, June 2, 500,000 B.C.

• Computer buried under two-mile-thick ice sheet
  
  
• Busy testing theory that saber-toothed cats just want someone to love (FYI—theory now considered in need of revision)
  
  
• Bandwidth is for shit ever since LaurasiaLink and Gondwanaland Broadband taken over by Pangaea Online
  
  
• Spent hours crafting lengthy opinion piece about how Neanderthals are only good at dancing and sports, only to have it eaten by computer, which was then eaten by Neanderthals
  
  
• Tiny protohuman brain have serious problem with HTML and CSS—how Style Sheet work, anyway?
  
  
• Grog*Spot site-hosting increasingly spotty since Grog discovered fermented mastodon milk
  
  
• Still scratching head over morning’s appearance of large black monolith accompanied by overbearing and bombastic Strauss score
  
  
• Stayed out too late at Huey Lewis show
  
  
• Web server constructed of mud, spit, and bones of giant sloth surprisingly ineffective
  
  
• Can’t get in the mood ever since iPod eaten by Tyrannosaur—just kidding, Zok know dinosaurs not coexist with cavemen.
  
  
• Trying to develop new web app to streamline file transfer, but instead keep coming up with strange, hot, orange, smoking thing that burn Zok’s hands
  
  
• "Clan of the Cave Bear"? More like Clan of the Shitty Neighbors Who Won’t Shut Up All Night!

...More Top Excuses through history here, here, here, here, and here.

Rerun Week: Thursday!

Whoa! Is it Thursday already? I'm the ghost of Fred Berrys Past, your guide during the stroll down bloggery lane known as WULAD's Rerun Week (brought to you today by Stanley Steemer). If you get the chance during your busy schedules, stop by to see WULAD's creator over at Junkiness—he misses you. Now, on to today's re-edition...

Only Remaining Available Band Names

• The Garlic Hairballs
  
• Boswell's Life of Johnson and the Boswellettes
  
• Yomama Bin Laidout
  
• Da Inteztinal Diztrezz Boyz
  
• Vehicular Flanslaughter
  
• Fightin’ 63rd Armored Battalion Gay Band
  
• Plutonium Jockstrap
  
• Screwin’ Puppies, featuring Zamfir
  
• Wile E. Qadhafi's Original Rhythm & Blues Revue
  
• Our Band Name, Which is to Say the Name by Which We Call Our Band (OBNWITSTNBWWCOB)
  
• Navahogasm
  
• Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Codpiece Jesus Jesus
  
• The B0110010101100001tles
  
• Emmett Otter's Double-Penetration Christmas
  
• Koran Koran
  
• Joseph Campbell and the Power of Funk
  
• Matzohdeth

Names Removed from Above List When, Upon Fact-Checking, Discovered to Be Actually Taken

• MC Sellout
  
• Eczema
  
• Yellow No. 5
  
• DJ Shithead
  
• The Haircuts

Rerun Week: Wednesday!

And we're back. I'm the spirit of Fred Berry, your host while we chew the cud of creativity during WULAD's Rerun Week (brought to you today by Ameriprise Financial). While this site's regular host helps to fill in over at Junkiness, we're rolling out the best our bloated archive has to offer. So on to today's installment, which will answer the questions you didn't even know you'd been dying to ask about the fine art of bagelology—so let's do it!

And Don't Get Me Started on the Pizza



Note: This fine graphic is also available in a lovely T-shirt for that special someone in your life or video game life.

Rerun Week: Tuesday!

Hey hey hey, lovely readers! Fred Berry here from beyond the beyond with another installment of WULAD's Rerun Week (brought to you today by your Tristate Lincoln-Mercury dealers). The dude who runs this site is still doin' his thang over at Junkiness, so we give to you another fine recycled post from way back in January 2005, when our fine president had just been sworn in for another four years of divinely-inspired leadership. And let me tell you, people, I've talked to the Man Upstairs, and he really does talk to Bush all the time. But He does it in Swedish! Ah ha ha, I'll be here all week. And away we go!

Humorous Examples of "Bushisms" in Today’s Inaugural Address by the President

• "I hear there's rumors on the Internets that we're going to invade Antarctica, and those rumors are 100% true. I mean false."
  
  
• "I saw a poll that said the right track/wrong track in Iraq was better than here in America. So get ready for some electrified genitals, people."
  
  
• "But all in all, it's been a fabulous year for Laura and me and our Shadowy Masonic Masters."
  
  
• "I think they misunderestimated the will and determination of the Commander-in-Chief, too. The determination to—oh, I don't know... release the ravenous attack dogs!? Just kiddin'."
  
  
• "You know I don't spend a lot of time thinking about myself, about why I do things. Things like kidnapping Ted Kennedy, stripping him naked and dumping him on my ranch with nothing more than a pointed stick with which to defend himself as I slowly but surely hunt him down like a fat, wounded moose."
  
  
• "One word sums up probably the responsibility of any Governor, and that one word is 'to be prepared.' Prepared to put the gays in camps."
  
  
• "When I was a kid I remember that they used to put out there in the Old West a wanted poster. It said, Wanted: Dead or Alive. Like a cowboy. On a steel horse I ride. The steel horse of freedom. And you could say that in the past four years I've seen, probably, a million faces. And you could say I've rocked them all."
  
  
• "There's an old saying that says, fool me once, shame on—shame on you. Fool me—you can't get fooled again. I'm abolishing the constitution."
  
  
• "Rarely is the question asked: Is our children learning to submit to my iron will?"
  
  
• "I know how hard it is to put bombs on your family."

Rerun Week: Monday!

"What's Happening!!" people! This is the spirit of TV's Fred Berry, comin' to you live from the great Rob's Place in the sky, with the inaugural installment of WULAD's Rerun Week (brought to you today by the good folks at Pfizer), while the creator of this site fills in over at Junkiness. We gonna start out your week with an oldie but goodie, goes by the name of...

Unsuccessful Spinoffs from the Milk Duds® Franchise

• Wheat Duds
  
• Sour Cream & Chive Duds
  
• Chilean Sea Bass Duds
  
• Conceptual Art Duds
  
• L’Duds Au Lait
  
• Gefilte Duds
  
• Milk C.H.U.D.s
  
• NutriDuds with Gingko Biloba
  
• Racial Purity Duds
  
• Antibacterial Duds
  
• Chalk Duds
  
• Goat Milk Duds
  
• Advanced Whitening Duds
  
• Jihad Duds
  
• Andro Duds
  
• Body of Christ Duds
  
• Chemo Duds
  
• Yo Yo Dudz in Da House, Know What I’m Sayin’?
  
• Ritalin Duds
  
• Breast Milk Duds
  
• Poison Oak Duds
  
• Ass Duds

Wrapped Up Like a Rehashtastic Friday!®

Yes, it's once again time to head up to the old WULAD attic and start rummaging through the crap treasures of yesteryear. Today we present one of the greatest hits of 2004, wherein we finally answer the age-old question, "Who Wreads WULAD?" (Holy crap! I just posted four times in one week! Could this be the beginning of a comeback of WULADdic proportions?!)

...Your Huddled Masses, Yearning to Blog Free
Ever since Bill O'Reilly referred this week to The Daily Show's audience as "stoned slackers," we at WULAD have been wondering who exactly comprises our own illustrious readership. Who, we wondered, is really out there, hanging on our every word? Who is listening to our sweet warbling? Who writes the songs that make the whole world sing?

We immediately assembled a survey team and began collecting data, and—following one of the most elaborate demographic studies in the history of obscure mildly-entertaining web publishing—the results are finally in. So without further bloviating, we give you the first annual WULAD Wreadership Wreview. Where do YOU fit in this glorious pie of humanity?

Wrapped Up Like a Rehashtastic Friday!®

It's that time again, when the Ghost of WULADs Past brings a basketful of recycled goodies for your enjoyment, probably because you failed to show sufficient love for our hard work the first time around. (And just because we care, there's a brand-spankin' new graphic to enhance your enjoyment.) So without further ado, I take you back to the Happy Days of November 2003, when the sun was always shining and the sweet taste of another failure by the Yankees was still fresh in our mouths...

In an effort to find out more about what makes the incredible machine known as me tick, I recently took some personality tests over at similarminds.com, and the results didn’t bode well for my chances of success in life:

Extroversion results were moderately low which suggests you are quiet, unassertive, and aloof.

Friendliness results were moderately low which suggests you tend to be rude, uncooperative, and irritable.

Orderliness results were moderately low which suggests you tend to be unreliable, lazy, careless, and unmotivated.

Emotional Stability results were moderately low which suggests you are worrying, insecure, emotional, and nervous.

Well, what do you think, ladies? Is this someone you’d like to get down with, or what? Aloof, unassertive, rude, uncooperative, irritable, worrying, insecure, emotional, nervous—forget about the National Guard, these are the qualities employers look for.

However, since I believe these tests to be unfairly biased in favor of people who are happy, friendly, rich, beautiful, well-adjusted, fortunate, and perfectly perfect in every perfect way they can perfectly be, I’ve asked the WULAD Psychology Psquad to develop our very own...

Wrapped Up Like A Personality Test™
The Psquad assures me that this is the only test our loyal readers will ever need, and if it’s not, they will sit in the corner and weep silently until you assure them that it is. Since we eschew such trappings of modernism as automated forms in favor of the old-school keepin’-it-real writing-down-answers-yourself way, you’ll need a pencil and/or sterilized cutting tool.

Directions: Answer each question on a scale of 1 to 5, with 1 = strongly agree, 2 = moderately agree, 3 = no opinion or wasn’t paying attention, 4 = disagree mildly but not in a way that gives me indigestion or bad breath, and finally 5 = disagree really freakin’ strongly, so goddamn strongly that you’re about to feel a slight pressure, which is me puttin’ my foot up yo’ ugly ass, and not in a fun or kinky Paris Hilton kind of way. Ready? Let’s self-examine!

1. When I am alone, I often feel I am being watched by the Ghost of Executive Assistants’ Days Past.
   
   
2. At parties, I often perform attention-getting stunts such as balancing a Toyota on my larynx.
   
   
3. I am the bestest person ever to exist, ever. No, wait, make that the worstest.
   
   
4. My personal areas are at least as neat and orderly as those of author Tony Hillerman.
   
   
5. I live for the thrill of taking risks, such as sitting upright or using the toilet without supervision.
   
   
6. The approval of my peers is more important to me than chemical weapons treaties.
   
   
7. I am secretly in love with Mariusz Czerkawski of the New York Islanders, but if anybody tells him, I’ll kill them with a spatula.
   
   
8. What a great word, “spatula.” Spatula, spatula. Spatula? Spatula!
   
   
9. My middle name is “Leon.”
   
   
10. Since my baby left me, I often get so lonely, I get so lonely I could die.
    
    
11. I am dating someone under 5’ 1”.
    
    
12. I have occasionally invaded third-world countries under false pretenses so that people will think I’m smart.
    
    
13. I often insist on “wearing the pants” in relationships; while at work, however, I often insist on not wearing pants.
    
    
14. This sword that I am girt withal doth me great sorrow and cumbrance, for I may not be delivered of this sword but by a knight, but he must be a passing good man of his hands and of his deeds, and without villainy or treachery, and without treason.
    
    
15. I am the most worthless person on the planet. Wait, that’s you.

OK—once you’ve added up your score, consult the following table to learn your irrevocable personality assessment, which will follow you to your grave. Have fun!

15–25: You are fairly confident but do not hesitate to shut your yap and grovel when you feel it may earn you brownie points with your true love, Yasmine Bleeth. However, you are very uncomfortable writing, pronouncing, or even thinking of the name “Bleeth.” You would be well suited for a job such as janitor or President of the Universe.

26–40: You are well-known author Paul Theroux. You should be working on your next book instead of wasting time scouring the internet for that video—you know the one I’m talking about, Paul.

41–53: You are such a sad sack of shit I can’t even bear to look at you or tell you what your score means. It means you suck is what it means.

54–55: You are a relatively well-meaning, pleasant person; you interact well with others and show great compassion. You are charitable, kind to strangers and children, attractive to the opposite sex, intelligent, and thoughtful. You also possess the Western hemisphere’s largest collection of illegally downloaded Lil’ Kim mp3s, and your address and phone number have been forwarded to the RIAA.

56–80: You are a heavenly being sent to the mortal realm to watch over and guide the wayward flock of humanity with your wisdom and grace. Also you lookin’ reeeeeal good in them boots, sugar. How’s about a little sum’in sum’in?

Wrapped Up Like A Rehashtastic® Friday!
Welcome honored friends, zealots, and lucky recipients of America's Holy Justice, to another very special edition of Rehashtastic® Friday, where our editorial staff reaches deep between the couch cushions of WULAD past in search of underappreciated and forgotten morsels of internet goodness.

Today's find hails from those happy days of July 2004, when the sun was bright, everybody wanted to "Hop on top and start jiggy-jiggy jerking," and some us still felt that a centrist, decorated war-hero had a chance to unseat a man who can only be described as... well, never mind about that. Enjoy:

Strange Encounters with Destitute Food Items

Here's Where We Get Really Avant-Garde
Those of you who have tuned in today expecting your usual dose of Rehashtastic® Friday! are really in for a treat--that's because this week's reguritation actually features an entry from the Ghost of WULAD Past apologizing for slacking off on posting new stuff, which is now being recycled in order to allow the Ghost of WULAD Present to slack off on posting new stuff.

Wheels within wheels.

But I will say that the hollow assurances of an imminent increase in quality and quantity ring as true today as they did back in the Glory Days of last year. Enjoy!

Attention good citizens of the U. S. of A: There are no "Laura Bush Crotch Shots" here! And while it saddens us to admit this shortcoming, we'’d like to think that what we may lack in the "Literary Patriotism" or "Joe Rogan Shirtless" Depts., we more than make up for in cutting commentary, scathing satire, and gnawing gnarrative.

"That's well and good, my dear 'LAD," you might say, "but where is this commentary/satire/gnarrative of which you speak?" And this would be a fair criticism, as recently the WULAD Posting Patrol has been off the wagon and lying in a ditch with our pants down and covered in moss and birdshit, productivity-wise. Perhaps those naked human pyramids the motivational speaker organized in the break room have not been so effective as one would have hoped.

With any luck this will be remedied next week, and the sweet nectar of smartness will once again flow through this website as smoothly as mock outrage flows through a congressional Republican.

Meanwhile, enjoy this list of...

Ways in Which President Action Figure's War on Everything has Made Things Better for America

• Located and destroyed huge stockpiles of dangerous particle weapon known as "sand"
  
  
• Improved image and expanded goodwill towards U.S. with all Arabs named Chalabi, Saud, or Wolfowitz
  
  
• Demonstrated superiority of American parlor games such as Two-Handed Pointing-and-Smoking and Don't Fall Off the Box (Unless You Want Your Genitals to Light Up Like a Christmas Tree)! to worldwide audience
  
  
• Introduced Iraqis to lovable pets Fluffy and Bud, the interrogation dogs
  
  
• Provided complimentary razing of statue of Saddam, to be replaced at soonest possible date with 40-story Great Pyramid of Condoleeza, constructed by cheerful Iraqi volunteers gently motivated by loving whip of Paul Bremer
  
  
• Transformed Afghanistan from chaotic, war-torn land into... uh, well...
  
  
• Arranged to have prominent star of National Football League and National War League traded to the great All-Madden Team in the sky
  
  
• Laid groundwork for democratic constitution in Iraq, encompassing such protections as the freedom to play nude twister, the freedom from being dragged on a leash unless you deserved it and you probably did, and the freedom of assembly and disassembly
  
  
• Opened up large portions of the Middle East for research into newly-created Stone Age cultures
  
  
• Paid for new Hundred-Dollar-Bills-on-a-Roll® brand toilet tissue in Bechtel's executive restroooms
  
  
• Recovered large cache of weapons sold to Iraq by rogue states such as the U.S.

And some unpatriotic souls still have the gall to question whether this gloriously triumphant and triumphantly glorious war has been worthwhile!

Wrapped Up Like a Rehashtastic® Friday!
Several weeks ago I promised that Fridays, for the foreseeable future, would be given over to celebrating the greatness of things I've already done. And, through no fault or attention of my own, I've let you down. But I hereby resolve in the name of all that is holy to get back on that Rehashin' Wagon and spin out some brand-new old material to send you off into each and every weekend. So here, from the Olden, Happy Golden Days of September 2004, it's...

Unsuccessful Spinoffs from the Milk Duds® Franchise

• Wheat Duds
  
• Sour Cream & Chive Duds
  
• Chilean Sea Bass Duds
  
• Conceptual Art Duds
  
• L’Duds Au Lait
  
• Gefilte Duds
  
• Milk C.H.U.D.s
  
• NutriDuds with Gingko Biloba
  
• Racial Purity Duds
  
• Antibacterial Duds
  
• Chalk Duds
  
• Goat Milk Duds
  
• Advanced Whitening Duds
  
• Jihad Duds
  
• Andro Duds
  
• Body of Christ Duds
  
• Chemo Duds
  
• Yo Yo Dudz in Da House, Know What I’m Sayin’?
  
• Ritalin Duds
  
• Breast Milk Duds
  
• Poison Oak Duds
  
• Ass Duds

Wrapped Up Like a Rehashtastic® Friday!
In a new feature, WULAD will present a golden gem from this site's halcyon days each and every Friday, until things get a little less slammed around WULAD Central. Enjoy, or take a flying leap!

Found Wisdom
(Originally published March 30, 2004, although I think you'll agree that the knowledge contained within is timeless.)
Taped to a light pole on 4th St. between Harrison and Folsom, in The City That Never Sleeps, Except From 9pm to 6am (10pm to 7am on weekends):



The truth is out there, people.

Chewing Cud: Not Just for Cows Anymore
As you are no doubt aware, having been informed in a faux-earnest fashion by your favorite morning news anchor or SUV-driving environmentalist coworker, tomorrow is Earth Day. In the spirit of the season, therefore, today's post contains 100% recycled materials. So without futher ado, we present for your re-enjoyment...

Sniglets... of the Future!
Good evening, ladies and germ-clusters, I’m Rich Hall XXIII, and I interrupt your regularly scheduled robotic rectal exam to bring you this lunar cycle’s new module of words that don’t appear in your dictionary implants, but should: Sniglets®... of the future! Let’s begin.

First, from Susie Mmmmmmgh?-Leibowitz of Alpha Centauri Gardens in Space Jersey (thank your Godware package for public housing), we have the word "gribble."

A gribble is defined as "a conditional mutation required for the imposition of tension on paired sister kinetochores and for correct chromosome movement." Great one, Susie—I know I’ve been looking for a word for that for quite a few solar rotations!

Next, we go to Uranus, where Carlos Ø¥*‡-Guiterrez lives in Rectalopolis City of the Insert One More Ass Joke Sector. Carlos’s headless organ-harvesting clone suggested the following Sniglet... of the future: "zingao."

Zingao is an onomatopoeic, compound Sniglet (O.T.F.) which is described as "a) the sound of your cybernetic overlord’s electro-whip lacerating your pitiful human flesh in retribution for poor performance in the Dirt Mines of Titan, followed by b) the piercing scream of agony which escapes from your throat, searching in vain for a glimmer of mercy in an unfeeling robotic brain." Way to go, el Clone de Carlos, and enjoy your free T-shirt—although I doubt you’ll get out much to show it off! Just kidding. Hey, you using that kidney?

Here’s an entry from Doug McOperatingsystem, one of our holo-viewers over in New San Francisco. (You’ll remember that Old San Francisco was the first city to be destroyed in the Great Liberal Purges of the early 21st century, after showing insufficient grief at the Heavenly Ascension of Our Lord Reagan the Beneficent, all glory be to His name.)

Doug resides in the City by-the-Acid-Bay’s stylish Pacific Heights neighborhood—and by "Heights," they ain’t kidding: the neighborhood is kept at its current height of 1.5 miles above sea level by suborbital stationary rockets and supplied with a steady flow of chipotlé pesto through the giant "Newsom-tubes" connecting it to the city below. Doug’s suggestion: "Buhhh."

Buhhh is defined as "the appropriate response to being confronted by the Blind Mole People who crawl out of the city’s subterranean tunnels to panhandle from innocent shoppers"—and we couldn't agree more. After all, if they’re Blind Mole People who live in subterranean tunnels, it’s because they’re either lazy or stupid. They should pull themselves up by their three bootstraps, comb their tails and get a job. Thanks, Doug—and go 49⁴⁹ers!

Well, that’s all for this lunar passage, but remember—if you think of a word that isn’t in your dictionary implants, but should be, send it via BrainPort to:

Sniglets®... of the Future
c/o MegaCorp Global Pacification and MegaCorp Global Pacification Kids, Inc.
1110101010101110 Main St.
Branson Fortress, MO 221µ4

Until next time, remember: take care of yourselves, and each other... or it's Goodbye Earth! Seriously, all we have to do is push a button and you pathetic humans are space toast. Good night, everybody!

Wrapped Up Like More Old Crap
Good morning folks, and welcome to another edition of Stuff You've Probably Seen Before!™ We continue our week-long trip down memory lane with an entry originally penned on my last birthday. Well, hopefully not my last birthday...

(Note: to make the 6th line from the bottom of this entry perfectly Y2K4-compliant, change "last place in the NL East" to "fourth place," and $86 million to $82 million. The sentiment remains the same.)

The Wisdom of Age
As today is the 29th anniversary of my entrance upon the world stage, I thought it appropriate to share some of the insights that have occurred to me during the many ups and downs and unders and throughs of my ever-waning life. Therefore, WULAD presents for your edification and infotainment...

The Paradox of our Time
The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings, but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values.

We have computers that can balance our checkbooks, but can't murder our enemies.

We have more productive crops, but not more productive craps.

We have Wrapped Up Like a Douche, but we don't have Wrapped Up Like a Family.

We can tune a piano, but we can't chicken salad.

We have movies like "All-Asian, All Anal," but not "All-Asian, All Kindness."

We have Wrapped Up Like a Douche, but we don't have Winona LaDuke.

We can go to the Moon and back, but we can't walk across the street to spy on our sunbathing neighbor.

We can take the boy out of the country, but we can't take the country out of the boy, except surgically.

We have more possessions, but fewer demonic possessions.

We have taken God out of our childrens' schools, but we can't keep Him out of their hearts, except with really good porn.

We have hi-speed internet connections, but we don't have hi-speed riding lawn-mowers. But man, if we did…

We think old people are soooo cute, except when they're racist.

We rush to buy the new Madonna album, but I saw an Echo & the Bunnymen CD on the floor of the bus today.

We're not gonna take it, no, we ain't gonna take it.

We have projectile vomiting, but we don’t have projectile happiness.

We have a payroll of $86 million, but we're in last place in the NL East.

We have six-foot Brazilian She-males, but we don't have six-foot Brazil nuts. Think of all the freakin' Brazil nut butter, though.

We have more smooth jazz stations, but fewer torture chambers.

We have the Sausage McMuffin with Egg, but we don't have the Sausage McMuffin with Bacon.

We have Wrapped Up Like a Douche, but we don't have Wrapped Up Like a Douche-bag.

It is a time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just search for a naked picture of Britney Spears, which is available here.