Everything Found In 'Thinking About Stuff' Category

Greenland - It's allwhite by me!

Chelle B. of Offended Blogger and Humorbloggers fame has started a campaign to Save Greenland. She is attempting to haul Greenland into the 21st century (or at least the 20th) by drawing international attention to the country’s lack of internet access, hot women, nail bars and Dairy Queen restaurants. Or something like that.

In my attempt to help the cause, I’ve spent literally minutes searching the internet for fascinating facts about this frigid land. I couldn’t find any, so I’ve made some up instead.

Vees way fur die free hookers! Unt all ve frozen prawns ur kan eat!1. Greenland was discovered by Viking explorer Erik the Red. Being ginger-haired, Erik didn’t have many friends, so he encouraged folks to immigrate to his new land by giving it an appealing name. The new inhabitants of Freewhoreland were to be disappointed.

2. Many wars have been fought over Greenland as countries have attempted to palm it off onto their enemies. Norway tricked the Nazis into annexing it during WWII. Hitler was so enraged he ordered the Luftwaffe to bomb Greenland out of existence.

Unfortunately the Luftwaffe couldn’t be bothered and dropped their payload on England instead, leading to an escalation of the war and many more years of misery. Thanks for nothing, Greenland!

3. The Queen of Greenland is Denmark’s Margrethe II, but she doesn’t like to talk about it.

4. The Greenlandic alphabet consists of only the letters Q, L and T. By law, every word must contain a Q. Interestingly, the letter B is banned due to its similarity to a pert pair of breasts.

Frozen shrimp! Yummy, sucky, Greenlandy!5. Greenland’s national dish is frozen prawns. No cooking time required, simply pop an icy prawn in your mouth and suck until its little head pops off. Mmm, shrimpy.

6. Greenland’s capital Qptqqtl is both the world’s smallest and largest city! Every summer the ice sheet it sits on breaks up, and parts of the city drift hundreds of miles into the Atlantic. It is believed one part of Qptqqtl is now a suburb of Boston.

7. Greenland’s main exports are ice cubes, huskies and parts of Qptqqtl.

Rut-Rohh.8. The Greenland national anthem, Qppt! Qlt! (roughly translated as Fuck Me, It’s Cold) goes like this:

Oh, the endless piles of snow
It’s the iceberg we call home.
We have everything we need
Except free whores, sun and weed.

We’d love to move to other lands
With their palm trees, sun and sand
We’d rather suck a husky’s cock
Than be men of Greenland stock.

It must bring a tear to every Greenlander’s eye.

9. Christmas day can be traumatic for Greenland’s gadget lovers. Because there are no trees on Greenland, locals have to put their presents under a large pile of snow. Great if you’ve asked Santa for a box of frozen prawns, not so good if you requested a Playstation.

10. With the onset of global warming, Greenland may disappear completely within 20 years. Oh well.

I’d love to donate to the campaign to “Bring tomorrow to yesterday’s Greenland today”, but to be honest I can’t be arsed. Good luck Chelle!

Support the cuase! Save Greenland! From something or other.

Show your support for Greenland by clicking the happy face at Humor-Blogs.com!


Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinteresttumblrmail

My boys! Oh, how lucky is Tiggy.

It’s nice to be complimented by men, isn’t it? Unless you’re a straight man. Although don’t knock what you haven’t tried.

And I do get compliments. A twinkling smile and a charming “You look nice today!” or “I’d really like to bang you!” brightens up my day no end. Unfortunately, most of the men doing the complimenting are usually quite mature…

Oh, What A Lovely War

The beer goggles are on!I was sitting at a bar hoping to catch the eye of the hot barman when an elderly gentleman sat next to me and ordered a Guinness. He seemed innocent enough. You know those old guys who can drink endless pints of Guinness and talk for hours about nothing? Well, he talked for hours about nothing. His false teeth were wearing down at an alarming rate. I smiled sympathetically, hoping he’d clear off so I could share some quality time with the barman.

But then the old devil dropped his killer chat-up line like a doodlebug on a bus queue. “My dear, you are the image of my first love… she died in the Blitz”. Oh nice. Did I look like her before or after the Blitz?

Then I felt a bony hand on my knee. Ever had one of those evenings?

Old Charlie hanging with his birds.Dead Pigeon Fancier

The boozy company party was no better. I had invested my evening chatting up lovely Rick from Marketing only for him to slope away (well, flee) with some pathetic excuse about having to vomit in the washroom. His place was instantly filled by Charlie the janitor, who swooped on me like a gnarly old crow with a pacemaker.

Initially Charlie behaved like a perfect gentleman, bringing me Bacardi Breezers on demand and entertaining me with stories about the Korean War, garbage disposal systems and the number of dead pigeons he’d pulled from the water tank.

Then I saw that decrepit, garbage-stained hand reaching towards my knee. I decided to join Rick in the washroom.

That was him! I'd know those wrinkles anywhere!Rockin’ the Joint

My latest wrinkly Romeo was a guitarist in a rock band that played at my local bar the other night (maybe I should stop going to bars). Under the impression he had the same rock star pulling power as Mick Jagger he slid up to me, flashed a smile and demanded the barman give me a beer. I’d prefer the barman gave me something else, but never mind.

This old rocker had obviously ingested many substances in his lifetime and he reeked of weed. There’s always room for another stoned, drunk man in my crush club! Rather than bore me senseless with tales of the road he just swigged his beer, put his skinny arm around me and asked if I wanted to go home with him. I wasn’t aware that seniors’ homes allowed visitors after midnight.

The barman was laughing too hard to help to this damsel in distress. Oh dear, I was having another one of those evenings.

I guess it’s nice to know there are men with breath in their body (just) that still find me attractive. That most of my suitors are either old, drunk, stoned or frequently all three is less flattering.

Let’s just hope they’re still interested when I hit 70…

They behave like perfect gentlemen until the lights go down over at Humor-Blogs.com


Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinteresttumblrmail

The Olympics - could be worse, could be every year.

Are you watching the Beijing Olympics? Assuming you can see it through the smog. Well, I am boycotting the Olympics this year, for the reason I reckon everyone is – it’s boring as fuck. Who the hell wants to waste precious time watching drug-addled idiots running around in the blazing heat? I can do that at my local park for free. Ten gazillion dollars spent on two weeks of flag waving, blisters and lycra rash. What a waste of money.

However, if the Olympics bosses introduced these exciting sports I may be interested…

Olympic Cheese Rolling ? More fun than a bath tub of Cheez Whiz!Cheese Rolling – This ancient sport involves a large round cheese, a hill and some drunk people. Simply roll the cheese down the hill. The winner is the drunk who manages to beat the cheese to the finish by throwing themselves down the hill after it.

I’m sure there are hills in Beijing, so construction costs = $0. I’m not sure if they have large cheese in China, maybe the Dutch team can bring some.

Dressing Up Race – This would liven up the 1500 metres no end. Runners would have to stop every 100m and add a layer of clothing – a feather boa, frilly dress or large floppy hat. Maybe they could have a theme like Gay Parade or ABBA Tribute. It would add a dash of colour and in no way demean the athletes and their sport. Hurdles in Heels? Long Jump in Rubber? The possibilities are endless.

Meaty, mighty and a lot more interesting than men's synchronised fencing.Men’s Triathlon – Never mind running, swimming and whatever the other thing is, I propose three REAL tests to sort the men from the boys – beer drinking, Marmite wrestling and barbequing. Who can drink the most, defeat his opponent in a bought of sticky yeast extract tussling then cook a plate of plump sausages to perfection?

I ‘m sure the Australians would do well at this, although they’d probably moan about wanting to use Vegemite instead of Marmite. Sorry fellas, rules are rules.

Women’s Triathlon – Waxing, Mojitos and Shoes. I think I could represent Canada in this sport, although I am no good at shoes. Or waxing.

‘High’ Jump – No pole, no landing mat, just a large spliff and the will to succeed. A plate of Gummy Worms and Cheetos could be dangled from a crane as an incentive to the giggling competitors to jump even higher!

I’m not sure if they have drugs in China, maybe the Dutch team can bring some.

Men’s Nude Hockey – That is something I would like to see. Just saying.

Ohh, watch out for that flying puck!

I am writing to the International Olympic Committee right now with my suggestions, I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to add them to the London 2012 Olympics. But first, I’m going to lie down and think about the men’s hockey a bit more…

 

They’d win gold medals in the 500 metre bonkers race at Humor-Blogs.com


Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinteresttumblrmail

I Like The Moon

Posted by on

Shiny, lovely, moony.

“We like tha MOON! squealed the Spong Monkeys in their famous ditty. And what’s not to like? It hangs in the sky like a pretty night light, helping countless drunks find their car keys in the dark.

But what do we know about the moon? I decided to investigate. I read a stack of library books on astronomy and astrophysics. To be honest I didn’t understand a word of it, but I’ll have a stab anyway.

Photo courtesy of invisible custard squirrel.Location – The moon is in the sky every night. In the early evening it looks huge, but later on it is just a tiny globe high up. But the moon hasn’t got further away! It’s just an optical illusion.

Sometimes I have the illusion of three or four moons bouncing around the sky. I asked around but it seems only me and the invisible custard squirrels can see them.

Identification – The moon is known as The Moon. It is a moon, but it is not Moon. It’s a pretty stupid name to be honest. Other moons have nice names like Pheobe and Io, so why can’t the moon have a name like Uhuru or Jeffery?

Come to think of it, The Earth is a crap name too. I think it should be renamed Bubbles.

Buddy, stop arseing around and get on with some digging.

Composition – I consulted the astronomy books for this bit. Words I understood were dust, rock, iron and magnesium. Words I didn’t understand were olivine, clinopryoxine and ilmenite. Apparently the moon has this stuff in it. I don’t know how scientists know, the Apollo astronauts spent most of their time arseing around with flags and moon buggies rather than doing any bloody work.

Effects – The oceans slosh around on Earth due to the moon’s magnetism. This is probably caused by iron molecules colliding with the particulates in the clinopryoxine. I have no frigging idea to be honest. All I do know is the next time I am clinging to the side of a turbulent ferry heaving the contents of my guts overboard, I will have the moon to thank.

Suck on that, conspiracy theorists!Conspiracies – Some people think man has never been into space, let alone the moon. This is crazy. Tom Hanks obviously filmed Apollo 13 in space – you can clearly see the Earth from his spacecraft window.

Others claim the moon landing photos were shot in a secret NASA studio. But how would NASA know what to make the scenery look like if they hadn’t been to the moon? Honestly, some people.

That is all I know about the moon. Now I have to return my astronomy books before the library tracks down who stole them.

They have big shiny helmets and want to play space over at Humor-Blogs.com


Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinteresttumblrmail