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This is a time when we draw close to our loved ones to reflect on the past year -- both the bad times and the good times -- and to shed a tear for those who are no longer with us. It's also a time to look ahead at the year to come and ask the deity of our choice to please make it a good one. Above all, it's a time to remember what's important in life.
So Happy New Year from this blog's entire vast staff to you. We'll see you in 2006, assuming we survive tonight.
Key Quote That Tempts a Person To Say "No shirt, Sherlock": "We have to look at the possibility that these two incidents are related."
Peanut butter and jelly. Laurel and Hardy. And...
If this doesn't shut KFC down, this blog doesn't know what will.
(Thanks to Craig McAdie)
It's getting so a man can't even have a hobby.
(Thanks to many people)
An officer is attacked by a pack of angry chihuahuas.
(Thanks to Karl Weckstrom, who points out that "Angry Chihuahuas" would be a good name for a rock band)
(Via OhGizmo)
(Thanks to Suzy Q)
Now they want to take away our giant inflatable rats.
This happens to us all the time.
(Thanks to Paul Brannigan)
If you tell anyone where you got that number, this blog will be forced to shoot you. And you know where.
(Thanks to Joseph Abbott)
...a time for thoughtful reflection on the major events of 2005.
(Thanks to many people)
Here's a way for people in airports to be even more annoying.
(Via Gizmodo)
PO PO PO PO
POPO ZAO POPO ZAO!
If one's reaction to this item is "COOOOOL!" does that mean one is a guy, even if one does not have the requisite toolbox?
(Thanks to the Powers family)
You're talkin' about Whiplash the Heavily Sponsored Cowboy Monkey.
(Thanks to Joe Pacold)
This blog gets so mad it could just spit.
(Note: This is an older item, but this blog just found out about it. This blog apologizes if this item has already been used by Stephen Colbert.)
Credit: This story was broken by the perky WARN Team.
Bonus Unexpected Good Rock-Band Name: "Stinking Goddess"
Things are getting nasty.
Those shows could be vastly improved with one minor addition.
(Thanks to Claire Martin)
(Also Bismuth, like months ago)
Here's what women want on New Year's Eve. As opposed to what men want.
...for an enormous head.
UPDATE: Here's another angle.
At what point does the price drop again on this item?
If you've been feeling a strong urge to appear pathetic to all your friends, now there's a product for you!
(Thanks to DavCat14)
Clarification: Here you go.
(Thanks to RussellMc)
We report; you decide.
(Thanks to Stupendous Man)
So we're going to this New Year's Eve party at the house of a friend, and since my wife and I are always the first (and sometimes the only) couple to start dancing, the hostess asked us to call the DJ and tell him what kind of music we'd like. So I called him and explained that it would be an older crowd, and suggested that he play at least some songs from the Sixties and Seventies.
And he said: "The thing is, there were no dance songs in the Sixties. My stuff starts in the Seventies"
For just a moment there, my mind flashed back to some insane nights 40 years ago, with lights flashing and drums pounding and guitars screaming and bodies gyrating everywhere for hours and hours. I thought about trying to convey this image to the DJ.
But what I said was: "The Seventies will be fine."
Boog is taking care of business, and surrounding himself with good people.
Apparently not.
It's time once again for bad sex.
It's getting ugly.
UPDATE: I just visited K-Fed's site, and all I can say is, quote, wow. It's really dark, all blue and black, and you can sort of make out the image of something that's either a microphone, or a virus magnified 675 million times. The most riveting visual element is a box that says "this site uses the Flash8 plugin. Click the button below to download." I looked at it for a while, but nothing happened, so I left. Again: wow.
This story reminds us of a Lassie episode, except for the part about the biting.
They have guns.
(Thanks to Claire Martin)
