Trees Trees All Around

Woa, this video got way cropped because Blogger expects me to be an HTML genius or something. I was going to try to fix it, but this animation is such a godawful fuckball of messiness that I think it might look better this way. I would say "enjoy" but, you'd have to be pretty confused to enjoy this.

Stupid.

Mexico: #1 cause of death among Catholic school girls.

Think of the Churn

Do kids dare to dream any more? 

A recent study concluded that 98% of kids under the age of 7  frequently have anxiety nightmares in which they're unable to move, wedged in the middle of 8,000,000 people frantically stumbling over each other as a tower of salt water crashes down on them. 

Meanwhile, a set of case studies conducted by a private citizen named Howard unearths an aquifer of existential angst feeding Florida's kids aged 4-11.  One girl interviewed by Howard and his team described feeling unbearably sad during summer evenings when the sun would take a long time to set and everything would get all orangey and warm.  "My friends and I have this thing where we lie on our stomachs, spread out our arms like this and kiss the ground hundreds of time," the girl tells Howard.  Several of the young kids Howard observed displayed similar grieving behavior, and performed what Howard calls "moping rituals."

Compared to a similar study conducted in 1997, the children in 2009 overwhelmingly chose to stay home after school and look at the sky with their hands cupped around their eyes like binoculars, focusing on a specific star for hours on end.  A boy referred to as "P" summed it up by saying "This is not fair at all."

Looking Good Ladies

by Pinchardo Ramon

Master Child Hand

An Important Message About Matters of the Self

"I've begun to notice an alarming trend at the workplace and that is the trend of not washing one's feet.  With the economy what it is, many people have opted out of directly washing their feet, instead letting the sudsy water from their washed bellies drip over their feet, and somehow deciding that that is clean enough. Well I'm here to tell you that I don't care what the DOW Jones Industrial average says-- Wash your damn feet.  Every evening when I shower and wash my hair, I take special care to slide my bar of ivory soap up and down the length of my feets, taking special care to wedge the bar between each of my toes in turn, and taking extra special care to grip it hard enough with my foot fist so that I can wriggle the soap bar around vigorously without it falling.  After doing so, I will dab a nice amount of Garnier Fructis conditioner onto the roof of the foot to make it smell nice.  Then I will dry the feet with a separate towel first, and the rest of my body second.  

Now, I know times are tough and getting tougher.  But if we can't hold fast to the few social courtesies that make us human, then we are liable to turn into the worst kind of ogres."

An Important Message About Snow

"Please stop putting your cigarettes out in the snow. Children play in the snow. When you put your cigarette out in the snow, you make it dangerous for children to play in it!

Snow is made up of hundreds of tiny water drops that have fallen and stuck to each other to form beautiful miniature mountains and hills of snow. When you put your cigarette out in the snow, you melt a lot of those droplets and you can create a hole in the snow and you can ruin it.  The only acceptable way to mess up the snow is by walking on it if you absolutely have to, but even this is frowned upon.

If you see someone putting their cigarette out in the snow, I hope you go up to them and say "The snow is not your ashtray, you know." Because I would. And I have.

You know...

 Most of us would never in a million years put out our cigarettes in artificial snow, so why then do I continue to see people putting their cigarettes out in the real snow without a second thought? 

It's something to think about. Please pass this message along to everyone you've met."

Prune Hamentashen

Make Kids Think Dinosaurs Are Awesome: Right Way/Wrong Way

Right Way: 

Wrong Way:

Apple Picking

by Pinchardo Ramon

Marvin Goes Yo Yo Loco

Way to go, Assholes.

"Like $ave you money, not $ave you from the sinking wreckage of the plane you paid us to fly on. Don't be confused by the picture of a downed airplane on our advertisement for plane trips."

Enter Far Rockaway

Let Me See Here...

Human-machine cyborg GrampaBot 2000 does his morning prayers.

Thesis Film Screening

"Women Want Me; Men Want to BE Me"

Me:
Camouflage-print button down says 'I'm Friday-night-services classy with a touch of urban flair.' Buttoned all the way up, of course. Little puff around the wrists to add some bulk and give my arms the illusion of robust musculature. Timeless black jeans capped with the anti-establishment sneakers look which I definitely wore to rebel against societal norms and not because I cried when my mom said I have to wear loafers. Top it off with an impeccable side part and, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think we've got what the ladies call a 'must-fuck.'

Jeremy:
Tragically underdeveloped runt of a boy. Tried to compensate with a stylish faux-tattoo on the back of his hand, but...sorry, I'm not feelin it. At least he can find comfort in the fact that his enormous ears grant him the power of echolocation.

Ivy:
It's bad enough that Bozo the Clown decided to trip on acid and barf all over her dress, but does she really have to have only one leg? Why God? Why?

Mom:
Beautiful; classy as always. But why the close-fisted shoulder touch? Is she not proud of her oldest son? Have I not made you...proud?.......Mother?

Emophilia

Eating Complimentary Pickles on a Science Barge

My older snister Ivy lives in Astoria, NY, a humble seafaring community specializing in ass stores. She found hersnelf in Astoria one day when a band of robber barons mistook her for a pot of potted pottery and implanted her in a makeshift cubicle on the corner of Mean Streets and Adventure Avenue. You can find her to this very day finding merry ways to canoodle with cannolis and noodles of every ilk, but never mixed with milk unless the plate is washed and left for 3 hours of more. For more information, dial a phone to the bleet of your own fart set free of thousands of those bondages which only a person of her young age can still appreciate.

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From Athens

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