the whole world burns

Archive for category 'humour'

If Your Childhood Board Games Were German


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.


Paradise Lost

ADAM: Paradise has arbitrary dietary restrictions?

DEVIL: They're really more like guidelines.

GOD: Incorrect.

How the Internet Ruins Humour


This is your life, /b/-tards.

MetaFilter's take on the Shakespearean "Pulp Fiction"


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

Shakespeare's Pulp Fiction


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?


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


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


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


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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