Archive for the ‘Epic Facepalm’ Category

Psst! Panda Paraphenalia Post…

August 27, 2012 Leave a comment

Hey guys!  Guess what???

For $4.99 + tax, in the Lakeline Mall in Austin, TX, you can TOTALLY own your own…. (wait for it)…



This a children’s toy, you bastards. Take comfort in the fact that, as it’s screwing your kids up for life, it’s doing so in an environmentally-conscious way.



And now, I leave you.
You’re welcome.



Yeah. That just happened…

April 26, 2012 2 comments

Today I picked up the husband from work, with our 3-year-old in her toddler seat, and started driving us toward the pharmacy on the way back home.  Our daughter picked an argument with me (I can’t remember what it was about, to be honest, as it’s not the first we’ve had today, and probably won’t be the last…) and after some whining and general verbal flailing about, the conversation continued as follows:

Me:  Sorry, kiddo. Mommy wins.

Husband: Yeah, honey, mommy always wins.

Me: Yep. It’s a fact of life. Learn to accept the loss…

Husband: Seriously not a concept I think she’s aware of.

Daughter: …Lose? (puzzled look)

Husband: See???

Me: You lose.

Husband: …Fa…tality?…

Me: Yeah, I’m Mommy!Shredder.

Husband: …

Me: …?

Husband: I think you’re aiming for Sub-Zero or something…It’s a Mortal Kombat reference, dear.

Me: I know…Shredder, Sub-Zero, whatever…

Husband: You can’t combine Mortal Kombat with Teenage Goddamned Mutant Fucking Ninja Turtles, dammit. Quit cross-pollinating your fucking geek.

Me: *cries tears of broken nerd shame/hysterical laughter and tries not to wreck the minivan on the frontage road…*

Post-production Herp-Derp: Caption contest

April 14, 2012 Leave a comment

I’m not one of those people that loves something just because it’s yet another product by someone whom they already love because of previous products/achievements.  I like things on an individual basis; songs, movies, television, books, etc.  Just because my favorite book was written by Peter David doesn’t mean that Mr. David has an all-access pass to my loyalty and affection from that point onward. Keep striving, don’t get lazy, and if it’s good I will love you again.  This is why services like Hulu and iTunes work so well for me, because it allows me to pick and choose from what rises to the top, rather than buy CDs with songs I love mixed in with songs I might loathe… But I digress.

I love Fringe.

That being said, I have a strong sense of “THAT DOESN’T GEL, YOU ASSHAT” when it comes to how things look on screen… Mister Abrams: I applaud your team’s initiative in loosening the hiring requirements in production, but as someone who graduated 8th grade geography in Oklahoma… please consider an educational pub quiz after work from time to time?

Exhibit A:

Apparently the extra "t" was taken in a compromise with the 99%...

In alternate universes, double consonants are punishable by amber...

Now, see, I’ve started you all off; your turn to caption this!

Hey Apple: Here’s your sign.

August 24, 2011 Leave a comment

So, today Steve Jobs resigned as CEO of Apple.

This comes two weeks after Apple is announced as the most valuable stock on the NASDAQ.

Stocks have fallen 7% since Jobs made his announcement.  Anyone wanna start betting?

I get that Jobs has survived pancreatic cancer and is going through serious health problems, but perhaps there could have been a better time to announce this than during an economic meltdown?

Just sayin’.

Thug Slytherin 4 Life, Boyyyyyy….

July 11, 2011 3 comments

After a week (again) of not posting, I decided to force myself to write about something, and forced myself to read the news for something juicy to snark about.


No. Not the Brit-stuck-in-Australia-who-does-hy-fucking-sterical video game reviews, but an expression of “Holy fuck, guys! I found Marshall Mathers’ British clone! …And he’s really creepy.”

Seriously. Tom Felton (Draco Malfoy from the Harry Potter franchise, for those of you uninitiated by fanatical husbands and even-more-rabidly-fanatical friends) has announced that he’s going to go after a white hip-hop career, a la N-Dubz.

You frighten me, kiddo.

I mean, if you can get around the fact that the kid’s basically been immortalized as the embodiment of all-things-bad-for-Harry-Potter-until…hark!-a-conscience!, then by all means: brave that rhythmical frontier.  He would certainly not be the first HP kid to try to force the world to let him/her grow up.

If, on the other hand, you remember rolling your eyes at Emma Watson’s underage drinking photos, and Daniel Radcliffe’s “Look, fuckers, I’m old enough to sleep with your daughter…or this horse, maybe…” photos, then you already have a basis for mistrust of this new career choice.

Felton has also said that he plans to wigger-fy his image, with backward ball caps (…Uh, Tom? We know you’ve been trying to kill Harry Potter in the face for the last ten years, but the 90’s called: they want their ridiculously-intimidating fashion trend back…), saggy clothes, etc.

Tom Felton

Fo' shizzle, mah wizzle...

I can totally get behind doing something because your heart tells you it’s what you’re meant to do… But please be prepared for the ridicule of fans who, for some reason, were shocked when your testicles dropped between Potter movies.  And while millions of slobbering teenage fangirls may, indeed, consider you a studly fuckmuffin who can do no wrong, rest assured that there are people here (like me) to gloriously revel in your inevitable assfaced baboonery — I mean, no offense… I just don’t like rap.

I am, however, surprisingly okay with evil blonde kids with entitlement issues… as long as they congregate in an area far enough away from my normal routines.  There are certain things in life that you have to claim moral indignation at, before secretly enjoying watching the progress.  This is the foundation upon which our Western hemisphere has been built, people.

So, while I picture Draco Malfoy rapping about the death of Dumbledore and his crazy wand-fondling aunt, Bellatrix — I’m picturing a floating crown and a giant gold clock on a chain of snakes — I’m also seeing the potential for mid-life career revival here.  I mean, eventually his fame (assuming he achieves it in the field of rap and hip-hop, rather than merely infamy) will burn out and he’ll have to do what all washed up artists do in this enlightened, accomplished day and age.


That’s right.

Sign a motherfucking reality show deal, bitches.

Hey, it worked for Bret Michaels and Ralph Macchio…

I can see it now…

Tom Felton’s Wand of Love – The show of one child-actor-cum-rap-artist’s quest to conjure a magical connection between himself and the 15 aspiring Playboy Bunnies that VH1 hired.  I hear that Megan chick from Beauty and the Geek and Rock of Love is available…

So You Think You Can Sing – The new attempt by ABC to give everyday citizens, like you and me, the unbelievable opportunity to publicly skin cats in duet with washed-up/questionably-talented musical artists who really need to eat.  First season lineup includes Vanilla Ice, Lief Garrett, and Gary Glitter (newly-released from Vietnamese prison).

The Surreal Life – Opposite the likes of Billy Ray Cyrus, Andy Dick, Jonathan Taylor Thomas, Lark Voorhies, and Soleil Moon Frye, Tom could do well here. Celebrealities are generating a large amount of public interest, still…  I personally look forward to the episode where Billy Ray Cyrus sings about Soleil Moon Frye breaking his achy, breaky heart, followed by Andy Dick snorting an obscene amount of cocaine off of Jonathan Taylor Thomas’ ass before beating Lark Voorhies about the back of her head with his penis as Tom is the designated morally indignant celeb.  I foresee television gold, people.

And all this because he wanted to wear big boy pants for the first time in a decade.

I can’t wait to see how this one turns out.

At some point, I may or may not have altered names and grammar to be more appropriate to one who has been(fuck) at least been taught rudimentary English…

Dear Japan: Whatever it is we did, we’re very sorry. Can you stop now? Sincerely, The Rest of the Goddamned Planet

July 4, 2011 7 comments

Don’t get me wrong, I love Japan. I love the culture, and their animation styles, the new technology they come out with, and even some of their cute little trends.

That being said, I do feel the need to point out that Japan is full of freaky little fuckers who alternate between inspiring us to invent great things and scaring some of us into bizarre acts of whatthefuckery, just to escape from what we’ve seen.

There's just no excuse for this...
There’s just no excuse for this…

Something some of you may have noticed is my tendency toward making things by hand. (I know, I know, it’s subtle, but I promise you: I am heavy into handmade shit, yo.) So, it should come as no surprise to any of you that I came across a Japanese crafting site the other day. What might come across as a surprise, if you have any capacity for such left in you at this stage in life, is that the site is devoted to handsewn underwear. Made out of handkerchiefs. Which the site owner has lovingly dubbed the “Hanty Panty“…

I shit you not.

There are many reasons this site is horrifyingly hilarious. Granted, the obvious reason would be fact that these strange …creations… seem to make you stare in abject terror. If there had been a pattern for this when I was a child, I’m fairly certain my mother would have tried to make them and then make me wear them. And then I would have murdered many people in the face, out of a strange, displaced sense of indignation and rage.

If the Japanese had dropped these from the planes, instead of bombs (edited because I was too distracted to blog correctly the first time), the forces at Pearl Harbor would have just fucking surrendered. In fact, that’s what I suspect is at work here: Japan, as a nation, is putting out this wacky, Rule #34-type shit as payback for Hiroshima, etc. Sure, they bombed us, we nuked them in the face, but the truly lasting damage here is that they will introduce us — and our children — to truly regrettable crafting trends.

I mean, come on… Liberace’s ghost thinks those things are scary…

It certainly doesn’t help that there’s a language translation issue afoot here. Choice phrases had me pausing and laughing to myself, regularly:

  • “It’s not difficult. But I dared to make it complex.” Because I am a fucker and get an even bigger thrill from telling you that I made a non-difficult task complex. Marvel at my fuckery.
  • “Small but sober.” Important to note, because small underwear is usually drunker than an Irishman at a wake.
  • “Oh! Child has bigger hips than mom’s? This is an elastic magic.” I have nothing to say about this that doesn’t result in some sort of profane explosion of laughter and word salad.
  • “I make lacy and fancy underwear for men.” …I want to cry now. Particularly after I poked around on the site a bit and discovered that he/she/it had originally named this line of men’s intimates “Snake Charmers”. Fucking seriously?

Ok. Here is where I draw the line. As a woman, I wouldn’t allow these nightmarishly garish pieces of fabric to decorate my horribly-mangled corpse. I am fairly certain that, were I ever to present my husband with a pair of these, made myself, he would demand a divorce out of sheer courtesy before shooting me in the face.

Y’all would never find my body.

My hat really goes off to this brave individual, not only for the courage to put these creations online as a how-to manual for the craft-oriented mentally disturbed, but also for coming up with the goddamned things in the first place.

At least I only make small, possibly-demonic-looking dolls based on pop culture icons…

Why socializing with other bloggers is dangerous…

June 29, 2011 8 comments

I’ve started following some fabulous people since I became more active on my blog, back in April. I’ve gotten hooked on The Bloggess, Noa Gavin, and Wag the Dad, to name the first three (since I don’t have the strength of fingers, lately, to type out all the blogs that keep me giggling when I need it)… The aforementioned three are all fantastically random/psychotic, and therefore awesome pen pals when we have the occasion to correspond.

I tend to harass Noa on Twitter. She seems to be okay with this.

For example, yesterday I Tweeted her the following:

@OhNoaG This is why I’m having concerns about choosing to become a teacher… #IPrayForAndrogynousChildren

Which, in turn, started this:

Noa: @KellaKnits AHAHAHAHHA. Yes. Infinite loops. That was amazing.
Me: @OhNoaG They failed to mention that it would create a vaginal causality loop, where the Enterprise would explode before starting over again.
Noa: @KellaKnits The repeated loops would cause a cervical black hole, unfortunately.
Me: @OhNoaG Which would suck up any male genitalia, and some buicks, in the vicinity. Like vagina dentata for the Trekkie set.
Noa: @KellaKnits AHAHAHA. Nice.

Of course, this has kept me laughing for the last. 24. hours.

You know what comes next, don’t you?

That’s right, bitch. Merchandising.

Noa didn’t bring this up, but I think there’s capital to be made here… After trying for hours, however, to find a way to make a pair of ladies underwear with that logo on it, I finally said screw it and made a shirt.

Happy belated birthday, Noa.

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