A man’s ghost was found wandering the social Web site Facebook on Friday.
Buck Todd, 25 (and will be forever), signed in to his Facebook account at 12:17 a.m. EST on May 9, despite the severe head injuries he received in a car accident several months ago while driving under the influence of pretty much anything he could find. This login time, 17 minutes after the witching hour, was likely due to Todd using a dial-up spiritual interface.
“I was shocked to see him on Facebook chat,” Todd’s friend Donnie Tibbs said. “But we had a nice little conversation about heaven and shit.” Tibbs considered himself to be Todd’s BFF, though that fact is in contention by nearly everyone who joined the Facebook group “R.I.P. Buck Todd.”
In what some may consider an ironic twist of self absorption, Todd joined his own R.I.P. group to check out all the loving wall posts of all the group members who either missed him or just wanted to seem caring in order to get into one of his old girlfriend’s pants. Posted Todd: “I don’t know half the douchebags on here. Also, I’m DEAD.”
County coroner Warren Roberts confirmed Todd’s death, ensuring the validity of the ghostly login.
“Yeah, his head fell off,” Roberts said. “It was kind of hanging on there loosely for a while, but then when they got him to the hospital they bumped into a doctor who was acting like he was in a bigger hurry than he actually was, and PLOP. Just toppled right off.”
Roberts also confirms that the accident could not accurately be called drunk driving since, in addition to copious amounts of alcohol, Todd’s blood tests showed signs of mescaline, human growth hormone, and pig feces.
“This kid died like nobody’s business,” Roberts said.
This encounter raises questions about the source of Facebook’s marketing and consumer-drawing power, and scientists now theorize that the Web site may in fact be built on an ancient Indian burial ground.
For the few nerds that were sitting at home on Facebook at midnight on a Friday, though, this was a heartwarming time. With Todd having left the Web site for the time being, they are left only with his status: “Looking at Suicide Girls. Leave me alone. It’s been MONTHS.”
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Wonkaland Gets Smashed By Stormamajig
Yes, this is my new blog. Yes, this is the first blog post. I’m not going to explain or justify it, though. I want to do it, I want you to read it, and I want a 10% raise. I will say that a “piffle” is just a bit of nonsense. So that’s what you should expect from this. Now, enough setup. Here’s the plot.
A cyclone or hurricane or something hit Myanmar or Burma or somewhere this weekend, and the death toll is 22,000 or 100,000 or some number. There may seem to be a bit of uncertainty in the previous sentence, but I’m actually just attempting to represent the various sides of the issue.
You see, there’s a bigger problem here than just the fact that either 22,000 or 100,000 people maybe died or passed away in the country of Myanmar or Burma. It’s a huge communication problem that the nation that got hit by the storm thingy is facing, as we in America don’t really enjoy agreeing with them on nearly anything.
While thousands of Myanburms huddle together for warmth after a disaster that makes Hurricane Katrina look like one guy sneezing on another, the media frantically scramble to figure out just what the hell to call the country. You see, in the not-too-distant past, Myanmar was called Burma. Or Burma was called Burma. Holy balls, this is hard to write. Okay, from here on out, I will refer to that present-day country I’m trying to speak of as “Wonkaland.”
Anyway, back in early 1989, Wonkaland was known as Burma. All the people of Burma were called “Burmese,” and most of them made drugs. Burma was a huge exporter of opium and poppy-seed bagels, and America pretty much just ignored them, much like the nation was a crazy homeless guy masturbating in the subway. If you don’t look at them, they’ll just do their business and only affect the guy right next to them. But then, in June of 1989, the Burma’s military took over the country and decided that it should henceforth be known as Myanmar. The Burmese were not thrilled. No one wants to be Burmese one day and Myanmartian the next. So, in an act of defiance, the newly-dubbed Myanmartyrs sighed quietly to themselves and got really, really high.
Meanwhile, the leading nations of the world took notice and did what they always do when a military dictatorship is founded. They shook their fingers at the new government and said they refused to recognize them, which didn’t bother the Myanmarterian military too much, since it’s a lot easier to get away with shit if no one recognizes you. So, they said Myanmar, we said tomato, and we called the whole thing off.
So now Wonkaland sits in limbo, and we can’t agree on anything. First they called what hit them a cyclone, then somebody said hurricane, and now everyone is confused. Also, the Wonkaland government released a statement saying an estimated 22,000 people were killed by the storm. In a surprise counter offer, the American government released a statement saying 100,000 were killed, although the U.S. government admits that America was not in Wonkaland at the time.
This disagreement has led Wonkaland to refuse any help from the United States. President Bush II urged the country to “tear down this wall,” though which wall he was speaking of is unclear. What he probably meant was “let us help you.” Wonkaland said that they would rather handle it on their own, and have no interest in living in FEMA trailers for years on end. President Bush then replied, “Fine. Live in the Superdome for all I care,” at which point Dana Perino had a heart attack. Plans are apparently underway to squash Wonkaland before it can either create WMDs, or get too Muslim.
The respective governments of Wonkaland and America are in talks to set up a meeting to resolve these differences of opinion, but neither country can decide on what restaurant they should meet at.
A cyclone or hurricane or something hit Myanmar or Burma or somewhere this weekend, and the death toll is 22,000 or 100,000 or some number. There may seem to be a bit of uncertainty in the previous sentence, but I’m actually just attempting to represent the various sides of the issue.
You see, there’s a bigger problem here than just the fact that either 22,000 or 100,000 people maybe died or passed away in the country of Myanmar or Burma. It’s a huge communication problem that the nation that got hit by the storm thingy is facing, as we in America don’t really enjoy agreeing with them on nearly anything.
While thousands of Myanburms huddle together for warmth after a disaster that makes Hurricane Katrina look like one guy sneezing on another, the media frantically scramble to figure out just what the hell to call the country. You see, in the not-too-distant past, Myanmar was called Burma. Or Burma was called Burma. Holy balls, this is hard to write. Okay, from here on out, I will refer to that present-day country I’m trying to speak of as “Wonkaland.”
Anyway, back in early 1989, Wonkaland was known as Burma. All the people of Burma were called “Burmese,” and most of them made drugs. Burma was a huge exporter of opium and poppy-seed bagels, and America pretty much just ignored them, much like the nation was a crazy homeless guy masturbating in the subway. If you don’t look at them, they’ll just do their business and only affect the guy right next to them. But then, in June of 1989, the Burma’s military took over the country and decided that it should henceforth be known as Myanmar. The Burmese were not thrilled. No one wants to be Burmese one day and Myanmartian the next. So, in an act of defiance, the newly-dubbed Myanmartyrs sighed quietly to themselves and got really, really high.
Meanwhile, the leading nations of the world took notice and did what they always do when a military dictatorship is founded. They shook their fingers at the new government and said they refused to recognize them, which didn’t bother the Myanmarterian military too much, since it’s a lot easier to get away with shit if no one recognizes you. So, they said Myanmar, we said tomato, and we called the whole thing off.
So now Wonkaland sits in limbo, and we can’t agree on anything. First they called what hit them a cyclone, then somebody said hurricane, and now everyone is confused. Also, the Wonkaland government released a statement saying an estimated 22,000 people were killed by the storm. In a surprise counter offer, the American government released a statement saying 100,000 were killed, although the U.S. government admits that America was not in Wonkaland at the time.
This disagreement has led Wonkaland to refuse any help from the United States. President Bush II urged the country to “tear down this wall,” though which wall he was speaking of is unclear. What he probably meant was “let us help you.” Wonkaland said that they would rather handle it on their own, and have no interest in living in FEMA trailers for years on end. President Bush then replied, “Fine. Live in the Superdome for all I care,” at which point Dana Perino had a heart attack. Plans are apparently underway to squash Wonkaland before it can either create WMDs, or get too Muslim.
The respective governments of Wonkaland and America are in talks to set up a meeting to resolve these differences of opinion, but neither country can decide on what restaurant they should meet at.
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