sweasel.com

Did the fifty-year old vet do something wrong, or was it a matter of a huge inheritance, or did you just not like the fucktard?

Classic burial place, though. The garden. Best to get the body out of there, though. First place they’ll look…

And remember, friends will help you move – but GOOD friends will help you move the body.

Do those balls have something to do with the 50 year old vet, or are they just gratuitous balls?

Are those cookies, biscuits, or meatish, balls?
And is Uncle B. wearing plaid? I hope it’s a kilt.

Ah, stuffing balls. Just like Grandad used to make. Why go to the effort of shoving them up the chicken’s cavity when you can just roast them separately? An Englishman’s home is his castle, and stuffing balls are his weapon. Guaranteed to give you abundant fartgas a few hours later.
Holy shit, it’s 4:48 – what the hell is wrong with me?

Yes, indeed, guilty as charged – and on both counts: sausage meat balls and a lesbian flannel shirt in fetching red.

Hmm… there’s a connection between those two ideas that I don’t wish to pursue.

Now I understand.

The 50-year old veterinarian in the back garden was your secret love-child – who hated meatballs. One year he choked on the huge meatball you insisted he sample, remarking to him, “Try it – you’ll like it!”

So each year you don his favorite red shirt and make some more of the meatballs – as penance for not learning the Heimlich maneuver.

You have to get up pretty early in the morning to put one over on me, Badger. Notice how all your machinations crumble – crumble, I say! – in the face of McGoo perceptiveness and insight?

One year he choked on the huge [New Year’s] meatball…

Funny how the more different things are, the more they’re the same

At least four choke to death in Japan on New Year’s rice cakes

The invention of the Heimlich maneuver is responsible for a noticeable drop in the collective IQ of humanity. Not as much as helmet laws, of course, but still, statistically significant.

Oh, and on an entirely related note: ¡Viva Señor Caca!

So long as you’re a male lesbian, the flannel is fine with me. Not only makes a man appear rugged, but quite snuggly too.

And hey! Adolph and Eva Memorial recycling? Seriously?

I actually Googled “Adolph and Eva Memorial recycling” – knowing it was a joke – but still not quite sure because (lets face it) strange things do occasionally happen to Stoaty.

Whoa. Now I understand the spanish comments.

That was very cunning, Weasel/jwp.

It only took one-two days to soak into my noggin. And that was with the help of solvents. I should start using DMSO.

Hope you wear surgical gloves while handling that DMSO, Steamboat. Otherwise, you’ll taste garlic for hours.

That stuff is wicked, for sure jw. But if you want something introduced into your system quickly, it’ll carry it right through the skin.

10-4. Too bad they can’t attach DMSO to rationality, and introduce it into the water supply.

I was thinking of soaking a library in it and then bathing in the resulting knowledge-stew.

Eu tu, Ishmael?

Took my weekly bath last month. Besides, I already know everything.

Handy, that.

Rationality has to be overrated – else most really good jokes would involve smart people rather than stupid ones.

The more I stare at that photo of Badger and his sausage-balls, the more I want to caption it.

Hi porknbean – her Ladyship was.. exaggerating for humorous effect.

The recycling dump isn’t actually named for Adolph and Eva.

The local praesidium of the Communist Party would never let them do that (*).

* (also an exaggeration for humorous effect – though worryingly less of one).

The caption should read Bollocks! instead of Balls!

You are in England afterall.

“The red meatball keeps you here in reality – the blue meatball sends you back to Kansas…um…no, wait…that’s backwards…uh…”

“….these are uncola nuts. They’re larger – rather juicier, too. Hah! Hah!”

[…] Balls! […]