sweasel.com

Best comment spam of the day:

megacoolguy@xxxxx.cv.ua |

Good day! dudes please tell me where can I found free porno

You get good spam, Weaz.

I hope I die so fast I don’t have time for comments.

being at ground zero of a 20 megaton’er would be about right.

Hey – it could have been worse for the Gipper!

They only dug him up, rubbed a litte DNA off the end of his tally-wacker and stuck him back in the dirt.

Now, Oliver Cromwell – They dug HIM up after he’d been dead two years and stuck his head on a pole.

Apparently, they were pretty damn’d mad at him.

(I keep this little fact on the wall of my office, framed, as a reminder that no matter how bad things are they can always get worse)

Didn’t the Inquisition actually disinter (that spelling looks wrong) a guy and hang him up (well, his corpse, anyway) and flog him? Or was that a dream?

Hey! Mustache is spelled wrong too! So it can’t possibly be anyone I know….hmmmm.

Ya know – they ought to just make it policy to take a dab of DNA from every corpse from now on. It’s the only way to be sure. Make the sample SMALL-sized so we can store billions of ’em without having to build a friggin’ city for the storage bank.

Well, duh. How about decoding every corpse’s DNA and just storing the info? Duh… The cost for decoding is dropping rapidly. It could become a reality…

Next you’ll be advocating the Glorious Return of Christ by cloning Him from the Shroud of Turin.

Lots of rapture-hoping Christianists will be sorely disappointed, I tell you, if He returns in such a mundane manner. Er, relatively mundane.

They’ll be more disappointed when the DNA sample creates the medieval equivalent of a hobo, murdered to manufacture a relic.

Ouch! I figure the only DNA they’ll recover off the S of T is some flax plant genes.

That would be interesting though. There are enough supposed samples of “Christ’s blood” etcetera; we should clone all of ’em and see what we get.

My favorite relic is the Holy Prepuce. Worryingly, several of them have turned up. Several jokes come to mind there, but I’m going to hell enough as it is.

Cops are outside my back door shaking down some kid, incidentally. It doesn’t seem too angsty, but they’ve been searching her car for half an hour and it looks like they’re going to tow it away.

I’m generally a law-and-order kind of weasel, but Providence cops are bad news. And I’d like to get the cats in.

Yep. There goes the tow truck.

They searched her trunk on the spot. I couldn’t quite make out what they said to her, but I’m guessing they told her she’d be in trouble if she didn’t give them permission.

This is where I go all ACLU up on they ass.

The Shroud of Turin makes very interesting reading.

EVERYONE (including the Catholic Church, by the way) agrees that the damn’d (or bless’d, as the case may prove to) thing is a fake.

Except that nobody can figure out how the fake was made. And a very, very good fake it is too. Particularly around the eyes,the Eyes, the EYES. Kind of creepy, actually…

http://www.skepticalspectacle.com/images.htm

The Holy Prepuce?

Holy Doughnut, Weaz, how many of them were around back then? Wiki says 1-2 dozen. Whoa. I guess one could use ’em for a pinky ring.

What’re they shaking her for – drugs? Or maybe the car is hot.

Shroud of Turin. Heh.

I’ve always been a fan of the Shroud. A body wrapped in linen is the only way I can imagine reproducing it, hence my belief in the Hobo Sacrifice.

How they produced the burst of energy that seared the image into the cloth is…anybody’s guess.

Now, the Weasel of Turin…

Yes!

Burst of energy = flatulence.

It would be just like his hobo buddies to note the outgassing of the corpse and – well – light it.

Y’know – for science….

Now, the Weasel of Turin…

I BELIEVE! I BELIEVE!

*takes another toke

Heh. Learn something new every day, I do. I had always thought everyone thought it was real because no one could prove it was faked.

And I did not know that prepuce meant foreskin.

True story: when I was reading a translation of the Qur’an, I came across the word “forelock”. I asked my parents what it meant, and they both refused to explain it. They seemed quite embarrassed. I think they thought I said “foreskin” rather than “forelock”, which would also explain why they did not want to or could not explain it. I’d never seen a foreskin, so how could they explain it? The Qur’an talks about leading people by the forelocks (I think to Hell). Or at least the stuffy translations do.

Mark my words: when someone comes out with a “street” translation of the Qur’an, bookstores the world over will go down in flames. Either by Act of Allah or rampaging Muslim mobs (but mostly rampaging Muslim mobs).

Musli,

I’m never gonna read the word forelock the same again.

‘Leading them by the forelock…’ Heh.

And the world already is going down in flames…one city at a time.

So either Allah will drag us by the hair or…on second thought, perhaps it’s good circumcision is performed on Muslims. I’m immune!

So when ya’ll blashphemers die and wind up looking into the face of the Lord as you sail right past to the Gates of Hell, I’ll be laughing my arse off….as I greet you with a cup of brimstone.

Awwww…man! I don’t want to go to Hell. Too much fambly there…

As Sam Hall complained, “All the whores are down in Hell!”

Not being a reference to your fambly Weaz – of course. You know what I meant…

Hahaha…I didn’t even catch that, McGoo! It wouldn’t be entirely inapplicable.

This’ll be the third time I’ve tried to comment this morning.

Long story short: I know how you feel about certain fambly members,Weaz.

Look up “tinker’s damn” – I don’t give one about certain fambly members, and I suspect you don’t either.

Glory be! It took.

Steamboat –

Akismet and I were up rather late last night… he wouldn’t get out of his bunk to post anything for me either… till I waved the last shot of whiskey over him (well, he thought it was the last) and threatened to drink it myself…

AS for your earlier quote of Sam Hall – I prefer the Samuel Clemens quote:

“Heaven for Climate; Hell for Companionship.”

I like that quote, Lokki. Crisp and to the point.

BTW: whenever I finish off the whiskey, I simply tell my drinking companion(s) that “my share was on the bottom and theirs was in the way.”

One of my Japanese friends explained why a Japanes man always pours the beer out of the bottle for his drinking companion. (The custom there is large beer bottles and small glasses and you pour for each other).

The best part of a bottle of beer is in the middle of the bottle. The stuff at the top is too thin, and the all the sediment settles to the bottom of the bottom. So, you pour the thin stuff for the other guy, and then pour your own out of the center. The art comes in because the other guy wants the same thing and will try to pour for you. So, you have to time your drinks, because when there’s any space in the glass, the other guy will top off your glass, trying to get the good part for himself.

I think your whiskey theory is pretty similar…. I’ll remember it.

The best part of a bottle of beer is in the middle of the bottle.

So what if you gently tip the bottle upside down and back a few times to mix up the sediment, weak stuff, middle stuff?

Oh crap, family in hell. I think I will immediately change my ways whilst there is still time.

I don’t know about family in hell, but you’d certainly beter change your ways and stop shaking up the damn’d beer!

Yeah – no shaking. Although PnB did say gently. Isn’t it the Germans that roll their next bottle gently on the table – mixing up all the layers? I think my Sis told me that. She lived over there for years.

Yep, the whiskey theory is similar except that “yours” is always underneath that of others, so you have to drink theirs to get to yours.

What…no restesing for the weaselly?

I thought about Stoaty and her Thanksgiving dress-shopping episode today, because I had to go buy a sport coat today for a business trip next week. Classic navy-blue-blazer-brass-button jobby, just like the grown-ups wear.

Whoa, Pupster. Mucho observant. I confess I did not notice. I bet she’s setting up her campsite downstairs.

Congrats on the blazer. Wait until they let you sit at the big folks table at dinner! It’s neat! I got to once, but … well … I misbehaved.

Yes! Rolling sounds much better than what I suggested. But then I am unsophistimacated when it comes to booze. Can’t stand the taste.

I figure rolling one’s beer while drinking at one of those Oktoberfest thingys could be cool.

But if you didn’t drink fast it would get warm. But Eurotypes drink their beer warmer than us Yanks anyway.

(Some say ‘Mericans drink their beer cold to kill the taste, but I think that’s just Euro-snobbery.)

I guess I could roll my scotch bottle. But scotch doesn’t settle. Even (ugh) blends.

Yeah, a marked absence of weasel about this place, if you ask me.

It went for a tramp in the woods today, I gather.

They’ll have the stitches out sometime in March.

Who was it that said beware of ventures requiring new clothes or rolling the bottle?

Is there reason for worry, Badger? It’s late.

Stitches?

I meant the tramp 😉

Weasel bites are nasty.

Sorry about that, McGoo.

Duh. I get it now. I feel so … stupid. You’d think the feeling would be familiar by now.

But I still see no mustalid.

Jesus Hercules Christ!

I had just read the words ‘But still I see no mustalid’ when that very instant the beast skyped me.

That’s, um, spooky.

Badger – according to Christopher Moore, in Lamb – the ‘H’ stands for ‘Hallowed’.

If you haven’t read the book, get it. It will have you rolling on the floor – literally. I’ve read it about six times and still laugh out loud at some parts.