It’s 2075, and Ruth Bader Ginsburg, for the tenth time that week and probably thousandth time that year, raised her head up to the heavens (or, as close to it as her withering, cursed body would allow these days) and cried out — fine, croaked out — “why am I so alooooooonnnnne? Why must justice require all these empty chairrrrrrsssssss?”
Originally published on Zug.com (now Media Shower) on March 8, 2013
Despite sharing a hairstyle with Rihanna, I am in fact a 30-year-old adult male, knocking on the doors of year 31.
As such, I need to start eating better. The days of taking an extra-large dump and losing five pounds are fast slipping away, and I could easily wake up tomorrow and require assistance just to sit up.
Luckily for me, there are tons of healthy food choices. Unluckily for me, they’re all fairly atrocious and fear-inducing. I enjoy potatoes and carrots as much as the next rabbit, but some of these goofy things look like primitive tools. And my svelte, girlish figure depends on eating them?
Well, if this was to be my future, I decided to see if I couldn’t make it a wee bit more fun. I remember Jerry Seinfeld’s girlfriend put out a book awhile back where she taught us how to slip junk food into healthy stuff so kids would eat them. My advance apologies to all friends and family members whose birthdays I had to forgot so my brain could retain this information.
Her idea was decent, but didn’t go far enough, so I decided to take over. I picked out six of those weird, exotic vegetables that grocery stores technically sell but you regularly skip past on your way to the Cheez-Its aisle. Paired up with a favorite junk food of mine, could I make these abominations taste like real food? Or would it all end up in a real toilet, real fast?
That picture of a lotus pod growing out of somebody’s shoulder was supposedly what happens if you use Head and Shoulders shampoo. Turns out that was an obvious hoax, but my crack team of investigators turned up the shocking truth. Head and Shoulders fucks you up in ways a mere disgusting growth on your arm never could.
We still don’t know where LeBron James is going to play, only that whoever signs him will pay out the nose. My solution: make him play alone. Form the LeBron City LeBrons and take on the league on his own. That way there’ll be no salary cap issue, plus he won’t have to deal with annoying teammmates trying to be all teammate-y and not-as-good-as-him-y.
There’s a new trend going around where nostalgics are embracing old, brick-like cell phones, insisting their simplicity makes them superior to smartphones. Even though I’m in my 30’s and thus should start fearing all new things, I’m 1000% these people are hilariously, pornographically wrong.
The Tour de France, a 2200-mile bike race featuring only the world’s most fit druggies, just started. This is unfortunate because, Lance Armstrong or no Lance Armstrong, this might be the most pointless competition in all of sports.
There’s an eternal debate raging as to whether or not offensive, shock humor goes too far and the joke-tellers need to apologize for hurting so many people, or if the sensitive whiny liberal pansies need to shut up, grow some thicker skin, and learn to take a joke. Forgotten in this endless cycle is a third argument, one that’s ignored far too often: “why are we fighting over jokes that just plain aren’t funny?”
Some musicians go solo and do the same damn thing they were doing in their band. Others spread their wings and put out amazing music that sounds nothing like anything they’ve ever done before and solidifies them as artists of the highest caliber.
Others try the latter, but should’ve gone with the former, because their attempts at branching out and carving out their own identity were on par with Michelangelo trying to carve out David’s penis using just his fists.
BONUS MATERIAL: Here, have a purty header banner I made before remembering that columns don’t have header banners:
Meet the latest case of a guy so sad you almost have no choice but to be glad you’re not him. He’s anonymous, and for good reason: he’s suing a Quebec hospital for botched surgery on his penis that resulted in over an inch being lost. Also, he has no legs, because God loves us all etc. etc.
A series of bulletin board warnings from the exasperated manager of “Shane from Walmart” have gone viral, even though his wacky insubordination is hopelessly, transparently fake. How do we know? Here’s what would happen to irreverent jesters like “Shane” in real life.
Some adorable kid invented the EZ Baby Saver, a mass of colorful rubber bands that remind you a child’s still inside your hot car. Supposedly. The good intention invention’s making the news rounds because it’s summertime and the roasting is easy. But adorable inventor or no, this might be the single dumbest solution to a real-world problem I’ve ever heard.
I’ve been hired as a Layout Editor for Cracked.com, and so regular, twice-daily posting for Holy Taco isn’t all that feasible. Still, I write whenever I can for wherever. Here’s what I’ve done over at the Taco this past week:
Anna Faith Carlson is taking the Internet by storm, thanks to a picture of her standing next to a cutout of Elsa, the Ice Queen from Frozen. According to the Internet, she looks exactly like Elsa, which is an amazing feat that she should be lauded and commended for apparently. Except she doesn’t look like Elsa. At all.
Game of Thrones has been doing the brutal death deal for four seasons now. How long can it possibly go on before people get the point and move on to something else? If HBO wants this show to make it to the end of the novels, they need to alter the recipe a bit. Here are a few foolproof ways to do so.
Pictures of the actor from 50 Shades of Grey in costume have finally been revealed. Sadly (and predictably), he’s a bland, boring brunette. They could’ve really spiced up this stupid character, and they chose to take him plain. No salt or pepper even.
It’s shockingly difficult to create crazy new Oreo flavors all the time. It’s a long creative process, and the Whipping Cane awaits those who pitch failure.
Larry the Cable Guy used to be an ultra-cheesy early ’90s standup comic named Dan Whitney. And if you thought Larry was annoying, he’s actually an improvement over Dan, who might have been the unfunniest person ever. Puppies abandoned under a bridge earn more giggles than this guy.
“The Story of the Little Mole Who Went in Search of Whodunit” is a story about shit. A mole gets pooped on and searches for the culprit, all while learning important lessons on how every animal that poops right in front of him does so differently.
Jemima Packington is a British soothsayer who claims to be the world’s only “asparamancer”. Since she had to coin the term herself, we believe her. Nobody else would use stalks of asparagus to predict the damned future, but that’s exactly what she does.