the whole world burns

Archive for category 'humour'

If Your Childhood Board Games Were German

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Place of Candy

Sweet, smooth and tempting... are all of the attributes you must try not to think about when you are tasked with running a productive and profitable candy factory.

Limericks making fun of English names with strange pronunciations

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The best one:

The Baron of Fawsley, Lord St John,
Had a fine buckskin coat with a frt john.
He said, "It was guthven
Me by Viscount Ruthven,
Who thinks I'm a cowboy, or t john."

Ben Joseph @ McSweeney's: Lit 101 Class in Three Lines or Less.

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Paradise Lost

ADAM: Paradise has arbitrary dietary restrictions?

DEVIL: They're really more like guidelines.

GOD: Incorrect.

How the Internet Ruins Humour

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This is your life, /b/-tards.

MetaFilter's take on the Shakespearean "Pulp Fiction"

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See thou mine own coin-purse? It hath upon it written "Foul Oedipus."

Shakespeare's Pulp Fiction

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JULES presses his knife to BRETT's throat
J: Speak 'What' again! Thou cur, cry 'What' again!
I dare thee utter 'What' again but once!
I dare thee twice and spit upon thy name!
Now, paint for me a portraiture in words,
If thou hast any in thy head but 'What',
Of Marsellus Wallace!
B: He is dark.
J: Aye, and what more?
B: His head is shaven bald.
J: Has he the semblance of a harlot?
B: What?
JULES strikes and BRETT cries out
J: Has he the semblance of a harlot?
B: Nay!
J: Then why didst thou attempt to bed him thus?

By Kevin Pease

Cookie Monster Searches Deep Within Himself and Asks: Is Me Really Monster?

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Me know. Me have problem.

Me love cookies. Me tend to get out of control when me see cookies. ...

Inebriate! Audiobook: "Trunk and Disorderly" by Charles Stross

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Fantastic free audio-novelette, like science-fiction Wodehouse as read by the tipsy shade of Vincent Price.

The 40 Worst Rob Liefield Drawings

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How can you choose just 40? Hilarious commentary, though.

Paul Ford: How to Say I Love You

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(51) With dozens and dozens of greeting cards, because the motorcycle accident caused a hemispheral infarction that has made it impossible for you to verbalize emotion and also turned you into a compulsive shopper.

Great poems rewritten as limericks

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Lord Alfred, the laureate clever,
Embarked on a morbid endeavor:
"My dear Henry left me,
Poor little bereft me!"
(His elegy goes on forever)

Lamby's Law of Distributed Systems

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Some people, when confronted with a problem think "I know, I'll make it distributed!" Now they have 2 million problems.

Small things, links and miscellany, sparkling with light. Sam's tumblelog.

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