The Lady Hamtackle

Hello, all! You may have noticed yesterday that Popular Irony featured a guest post, written by none other than The Lady Terlet! And after months of begging and pleading from Hamtackle I now have no excuse. Just call me The Lady Hamtackle! I am a very shy self-identified female, so please be kind on my first ever post. I will try not to disappoint!

I guess I'll tell you all about one of the crazy things that happen at my work. I am a caretaker at an assisted living facility for the elderly, and wacky stuff goes on all the time! Once about six months ago we got a resident I will call "Larry", on a transfer from another facility a few towns away, which is not uncommon, except this one was from another company. It is rare that a competitor would give over a resident like that, but a few weeks later we found out why.

Larry was confined to a wheelchair, but still carried a cane with him wherever he went. I'm not even sure he ever needed the chair in the first place. Soon a few of the other caretakers were shocked when he was caught multiple times lifting their skirts from behind when their backs were turned! He never really bothered me, probably because I prefer to wear a sexy pantsuit to work, and he gets a good enough look without the cane.

But his sexual aggression didn't end there. Late at night we would hear the squeaking of his wheelchair wheels and catch him sneaking into the lady resident's rooms. he had some nerve! No amount of lecturing seemed to sink in, either. Larry would act ashamed, apologize, and reassure everyone that he would control himself. if we ever seemed to doubt him he would turn on the waterworks, and there is nothing more pathetic than a weeping old man. He always got a second chance.

So a couple of weeks ago things seemed like they were back to normal at the facility, and we hadn't needed to chase Larry out of the ladies' rooms in quite a while. I was performing one of my typical duties, in the examination room treating the various complaints of constipation (pooper problems are a never ending struggle in assisted living). I had just seen my final female patient, snaking a two foot, dry branch of feces from her particularly troubled colon, when a paraplegic male resident forced his way to the front of the line. He insisted that he get immediate attention for a massive backup, which was now visibly distending his stomach. I cleared the room and prepped for an emergency colonic.

I have burrowed out hundreds of impacted colons, and I consider it

my calling

to some degree, but this one was a real mess. Usually scooping out a paraplegic is simple business, since the chute doesn't fight back, but I was almost elbow-deep before I fished out the source of the problem. When I pulled out my hand I was grasping an above-average sized severed human penis.

It turns out that the reason we weren't catching Larry sneaking around the women's dorm was because he found a substitute closer to home. He had been visiting his paralyzed neighbors late at night, and artfully sodomizing them without even waking them up. Well one night his evil deeds caught up with him, and while he was vigorously thrusting away his erect penis broke off like a mummy's finger! Larry somehow managed to patch himself up and avoided the staff for several days. we should have known that something was up when he began refusing sponge baths, which were always the highlight of his day.

After that episode Larry was moved to a more secure facility, even though it was impossible for him to ever commit the same offense. But after all the chaos he caused I bet that if you polled everyone in the building they would all say they wanted him back. Larry brought a lot of life to the old assisted living home.

Well, that's all I got for this post, people. Please don't leave any mean comments... I am a very fragile lady.

In our world the source of power is information. Controlling the way by which information is disseminated to the public (the media) is the easiest and most effective way to subjigate the exploited masses to preserve the status quo. But there are those who would fight the powers that be by subverting their stranglehold on access to information. We are those people. Please perform your civic duty by taking the time to review this unclassified report, we will be waiting on the other side of the looking glass.

Tonight's installment of Conspiracy Theory Digest will be examining the mysterious connection between the Canadian government and the global warming phenomenon. This issue has been long avoided by the scientific community to such an extent that there have been multiple falsified reports in respected journals to divert attention to the true cause of the changes in the global climate. And the Canadian climate is perfectly poised to gain (or lose) the most in terms of resources if there was a dramatic long term change in weather patterns.

So the "frostbacks" have been seeing the world populace change their interests from physical activity to more sedentary passtimes like gaming, or social networking. This has had a major impact on Canadian tourism, as the only conceivable reason one would travel to Canada is for their fantastic skiing, and the Canadian tourism board has been struggling to find an alternative. In their failure the government has taken covert steps toward segregating their society from the global community and establishing a new communist state just north of the USA!

The Canadians have built a working weather altering system that sprawls across the northern countryside in order to alter their climate to be a more communist-friendly agricultural wonderland. Over the last decade they have accelerated the melting of the glaciers and reduction of one of earth's most exclusive ecosystems, the tundra. They plan to take their socialized medical concepts and manufacture an independant social state by increasing agricultural production more than tenfold. To accomplish this daunting task the Canadian shadow goverment has begun a campaign of kidnapping and re-educating (brainwashing) the Canadian youth to be cogs in the communist farming machine.

This is all being done under the nose the American goverment, who continue to allocate the vast majority of border security resources to the southern border with Mexico, further hiding the affront. And when we begin seeing a complete cutoff of exports to Canada in the near future it will be too late. They will have already become an atheist, isolationist, communist state with direct ties to the Crown in England. One must follow the implications in the story through to their logical conclusions and point the finger at the Crown itself. Imagine the full military and financial might of Britain, Australia, AND Canada being diverted to a freedom hating socialist global movement... You have been warned.

You might be looking at this post and thinking to yourself, "This isn't the kind of high-quality content that I have come to expect from Popular Irony. There aren't even any pictures... What gives?" Skyrim came out today. You bastards are lucky I took the time to post anything. So shut up and enjoy it.  -Hamtackle

I doubt that I am telling you anything you don't already know, but I am a white middle class male, and I have spent much of my time contemplating that classic capitalist fantasy "What would I do with a billion dollars?" Well, faithful readers, here is my detailed plan:

The first course of action would be to indulge my base needs. I would fly all the Iron Chefs to my home, invite my friends over, and we would all shout out random ingredients to create the most delicious original meals imaginable. After eating I would employ a small battalion of high end prostitutes to participate in turkish leftovers, bobbing for crabs, sweat races, and urban bellyflops. You might find yourself asking "You have a billion dollars, so you could have any woman you wanted. Why the prostitutes?" The answer is simple... prostitutes keep their mouths shut (unless you instruct them otherwise) and they fucking go home afterwards.

After a few days of these excesses I would turn my attentions to entertainment. I would hire every band on the billboard top ten to fly to my home (giant fucking log cabin mansion high in the Rocky Mountains) for a big show. After several delays I would feed them all a catered lunch laced with laxatives, then pull back the curtain to reveal The Rolling Stones. Then I would have them all kicked off my property. Fuck 'em.

Then I would get to traveling the world with my entourage of leeching friends. I would organize a series of challenges, such as breaking into teams of three to compete for highest tab in a fine Tokyo sushi restaurant (winner gets a domesticated chimp). We would also have a list of items to acquire from various countries around the world in a scavenger hunt. The item in the hunt that is worth the most points would be a human baby. The catch? You must buy the baby in an industrialized nation using only food as currency. Afterwards we would mail the child back to it's real parents. After all, I'm not a monster.

Then I would consider philanthropy. Briefly at least, before repeating the above cycle ad infinitum. Don't judge me for my selfish disregard of my current liberal principles, because I am just playing the wealth game by the rules. All this speculation about the rich life has given me empathy for the plight of the wealthy. I am the 1%!

The Greatest Generation

Join me tonight with a celebration of the well-crafted insult. I completed some basic research and picked out a few of my favorite insults, and then crafted a few of my own. The best part is that since these quotes come from historical figures, writers, philosophers, and politicians, there is almost NO chance anyone you know has ever heard them before. Keep these witticisms alive by recycling them in your daily life!

I wish I had thought of this one. Expressing amazement that a person hadn't yet been horribly murdered is hilarious no matter who you are:

Against Locke's philosophy I think it an unanswerable objection that, although he carried his throat about with him in this world for seventy-two years, no man ever condescended to cut it.

Thomas de Quincey, on John Locke

I enjoy this gem for the not-so-subtle implication of pedophilia:

I don't think Robert Browning was very good in bed. His wife probably didn't care for him very much. He snored and had fantasies about twelve-year-old girls.

W. H. Auden on Robert Browning

I am not certain why the statue bears significance here, but no back story is needed to understand his position:

My one ardent desire is that after the war he should be publicly castrated in front of Nurse Cavell's statue.

Lytton Strachey on David Lloyd George

The Irish have a way of dragging a whore with a brood of disabled children into nearly any argument:

May the curse of Mary Malone and her nine blind illegitimate children chase you so far over the hills of Damnation that the Lord himself can't find you with a telescope.

Traditional Irish curse

Small backstory here... The Zaporozhian Cossacks in the Ukraine had just defeated the Ottomans in battle, but still received a letter from the Turkish Sultan Mehmed IV demanding their surrender to the Empire. The celebrating army sent this written reply containing perhaps the first written record of the practice of calling someone a "motherfucker":

Thou art a turkish imp, the damned devil's brother and friend, and a secretary to Lucifer himself. What the devil kind of knight art thou that cannot slay a hedgehog with your naked ass? The devil shits, and your army eats. Thou son of a bitch wilt not ever make subjects of Christian sons; we have no fear of your army, by land and by sea we will battle with thee, fuck thy mother.

Thou art the Babylonian scullion, Macedonian wheelwright, brewer of Jerusalem, goat-fucker of Alexandria, swineherd of Greater and Lesser Egypt, Armenian pig, Podolian villain, catamite of Tartary, hangman of Kamyanets, and fool of all the world and underworld, a fool before our God, a grandson of the Serpent, and the crick in our dick. Pig's snout, mare's arse, slaughterhouse cur, unchristened brow, screw thine own mother!

So the Zaporozhians declare, you lowlife. Thou wilt not even be herding Christian pigs. Now we shall conclude, for we don't know the date and don't have a calendar; the moon's in the sky, the year in the book, the day's the same over here as it is over there; for this kiss our ass!

I now provide you with a few of my meager attempts. Feel free to borrow, steal or paraphrase:

Your mother is a saint. There is little else that can be said of a woman that shared her bed with the mental invalid that is your father, and managed to resist the urge to drown the resulting filth of your birth.

The smile that you mistakenly assume is taken as "endearing" is better considered a subtle symptom of the inbreeding that marks your familial heritage.

You should be appreciative of the concept of pity, as it is the only obstacle between yourself and routine physical assault.

In your vast capacity for forethought you secured the sanctity of your marriage by carefully selecting the mate with which no other man would consider with lustful intentions.

If you have any worthy originals, send them to

PopularIrony@gmail.com

and we will make you "internet famous"!

Guy named Brad

Brad looked up from his half eaten hotdog with hate in his eyes. This would be the last time he would suffer such an insult from l the likes of this bastard.

"You son of a bitch!" He yelled with an accusing finger pointing at the man with the whistle. As soon as their eyes met the soft grass beneath their feet became their battlefield. Brad charged.

The much older man met the charge with the confidence of a man half his age, leading with a powerful right cross that missed the mark, but only by inches. The unexpected defensive maneuver did not stop Brad's assault, as his momentum sent the both of them tumbling to the ground. The old man's grunt was hardly audible over the cracking of his ribs, but he had no time to consider the extent of his injuries with this brute laying into him.

Brad rose up and began forcing his fists into his opponents face, one after another. The crowd erupted in shouting as the violence ensued, with children and women crying and fleeing in shocked terror. Their objections did not sway the single-minded determination that consumed Brad with an urge to pummel this old man until both his hands were broken and riddled with shards of broken teeth.

Just as his rage was about to come to satisfying fruition Brad's arm was halted mid-bludgeon, and two former spectators pulled him off his victim. Brad was exercising the breadth of his cursing vocabulary when he was suddenly in excruciating pain. The old man had crawled forward in the commotion and was biting through Brad's sock into the meat of his achilles tendon.

"Fucking cunt!" Brad spat as he returned his attention back to his adversary, who had turned the page from victim to aggressor. He grabbed two handfulls of whispy, thinning gray hair and pulled hard, freeing up long bloody ribbons of severed scalp. The man continued gnawing away at Brad's leg with a zombie-like focus. It was going to take more to dissuade him.

With the recent elevation in brutality the crowd was thinning, leaving only a few bloodthirsty men watching intently. The kind of men that don't intervene on fights and know how to keep their mouths shut. Brad acted quickly to end the painful fire at his ankle, and plunged a thumb into his opponent's eye, at first only swishing it around the socket until isolating it, then piercing it with a jagged fingernail. The sensation startled him, and he suddenly became aware that he was no longer being bitten.

The fight was clearly won, and the cheering savages that watched it unfold now scattered like cockroaches. They could sense that there would be questions to answer soon, and they wanted nothing to do with it. The old man was screaming in agony on the ground, blood streaming through his fingers and down his face like mock tears. Brad rose to his feet and hobbled over toward his bested foe, finally standing over him in victory.

"How dare you come into MY town and ruin MY kid's day... That was a fucking touchdown, you cocksucker! Even someone with ONE FUCKING EYE could see that!" Brad was so angry as he spoke that he rained spittle through clenched teeth. He turned away and limped off the field to his pickup truck.

Brad takes little league football very seriously.

Doug Stanhope Rampant on the Internet

by

piascomedy

I saw recently that Terlet posted about his grand adventure of going to see one of his favorite bands play.  For those of you who are not familiar, They Might Be Giants is a fundamentalist Christian rock group that plays mostly songs about how abortion makes Jesus cry.  Last night @SirChapsworth and I went to go see an icon of degenerate humor, Doug Stanhope.  Check out the vid for a sample of his depravity.

The show began with a stranger approaching Doug on stage and giving him some pills.  We then had a chance to learn all about cunt cancer awareness and Doug's plans to auction off his mother's ashes.  He wasn't kidding.  The show became increasingly dark and aggressive as Doug consumed the plethora of free drinks donated by the crowd.  One of the more touching moments that I will never forget is when Doug licked drool off the neck of an obese mexican comic with cerebral palsy that opened for him.

Oh yes, and @SirChapsworth elbowed an attractive woman in the back of the head within 3 minutes of our arrival.  She took it well.  We later learned she drove 7 hours to come see Doug Stanhope, and some asshole gives her a headache before he even takes stage.

Welcome, wankers of all walks of life! Join us in celebration of self love in this month's Masturbation Enthusiast Monthly, where we discuss Masturbation Legislation and reveal a couple new techniques in our most popular serial installment, Diff'rent Strokes. So let's skip the foreplay and get right to the friction!

Masturbation Legislation

Sometimes it takes an unwilling pioneer to brave new ground on an ideological movement. In the movement that is the masturbation culture that pioneer is retired detective Joseph Tesoriere, a New York state man who was arrested in August of 2009 in the Gateway National Park for exposing himself to an undercover park ranger. He was in a remote area of the park, and it seemed unlikely that he was seeking discovery while engaged in his personal lust session. An reluctant hero he may be, but in 2010 his case reached a Brooklyn Federal court and was used to establish a precedent that masturbation is not public unless it is likely that a passerby would witness it. This means that in the state of New York they now have to prove intent when prosecuting public lewdness claims! This is another small victory for the masturbation normalization movement, and a step towards my personal dream of televised competitive masturbating.

Diff'rent Strokes

The Jack Frost Deluxe:

This ancient Inuit method of self-gratification brings over 5,000 years of field testing to the table. Sometimes simplicity is all that is needed to please us, and what better source for traditional masturbation methods than the cultures of the native North American? Just apply an ice cube along the erect shaft until the ice dissipates or you reach climax, whichever "comes" first!

The Numb Dandy:

We take your penis on a magical journey from ancient simplicity to modern technology with this aptly named technique that employs the use of simple anesthetics and labor tools. Just inject a liberal dose of Novocaine into the shaft of the penis and wait for the effect. Once your lunch feels like a poorly-fitted prosthetic leg you can begin with the punishment, as seen here. Once you have finished the bludgeoning wait for the Novocaine to wear off, and enjoy the flood of sexual sensations!

Every fucking year you do this to me.  I am sick of this shit!  Fucking McRib!  Your  mixed-meat melange disgusts me but I can't not eat you. 

Hello, Old Friend

Your mediocre BBQ sauce and molded meaty bone pattern by themselves are disgusting, but together?  Somehow the combination creates an absurdity of flavor. 

Oh Fuck... I'm going to regret this.

You have a cheap, sometimes soggy, bun.  It barely contains your slopping heaves of sauce. 

Oh well, here goes.

I normally don't like onions or pickles, but when they are liberally scattered on your glistening, mechanically separated hide, I devour them like like a 10$ whore giving a 100$ blowjob.

1 Bite

I told you last year McRib, that it was over.  I couldn't see you anymore.  But here you fucking are, sticking your porky flavored ass back into my business. 

2 Bites

What the fuck McRib?  If I buy you in as a Meal Deal, I can get a second one of you for only 1$?  I fucking hate you McRib. 

3 Bites

I know that your patty is made of restructured meat products.  It just makes you more exotic.  You can taste every bit of blended heart, stomach and salt.

4 Bites

I am nothing but patient McRib!  Also, for some reason you are much more delicious after having been sitting out for an hour.  There is no need to reheat you, McRib.

5 Bites

Almost every time I devour you I find a little chunk of cartilage that pops in my teeth.  It makes me gag and I spit out the mouthful of you containing the chunk.  Once the nausea passes, I finish you.

All gone in 5.5 Bites

McRib...... I wish I never fucking met you.  I am going to eat a second one of you and in return, I  am going to get diarrhea. 

The Fucking McRib

I am never going to fucking eat you again McRib.  Don't talk to me if I show up to get some McNuggets.  Just pretend that we never met.  I don't want to have to hate-fuck you ever again.  It always ends badly.

This hat gets me a discount at Arby's

 Ahoy, fellow tea pirates! It is I, Willard "Teabag" Chinsley, your faithful captain braving the turbulent waves of Obama's sharia fury! Join us here tonight as we discuss the benefits of public speaking while drunk, why the ladies love Herman Cain, and an argument that life begins on the first date.

There has been much talk about a speaking engagement for Rick Perry in New Hampshire this weekend, and we here at Bible Belt Babble will not lower ourselves to the level of the liberal media by joining in the stone throwing. That being said, clearly Governor Perry was staggeringly intoxicated when he took the podium that night, but that is a GOOD thing. Being drunk makes Perry a more human candidate, the kind of man that struggles with his weakness to chemical dependency just like the rest of us. And frankly, he is in good company when we are talking about conservative addicts. Just consider former President AND former alcoholic George W Bush, former cannabis and alcohol dependant Glenn Beck, and former/current prescription drug heavyweight Rush Limbaugh. And we must also weight the value of alcohol as a "truth serum" that lets us all see through the armor that all those sober candidates hide behind. The first presidential debate should be conducted at the Hooter's D.C. branch after happy hour. But then again, MUSLIMS don't drink... what, do they have something to hide?

Big Daddy Cain

Why is it that everyone makes such a big deal about conservatives that have an undeniable sexual magnetism with the ladies? Recently Herman Cain has found himself at the center of a manufactured controversy when it came to light that a few ungrateful ex-employees from the National Restaurant Association rudely accused Mr. Cain of sexual harassment back in the '90's. We should all keep in mind that for every woman that reports sexual harassment there are ten that don't report it. And their absence of objection is approval, meaning that women appreciate sexual advances by Herman Cain 10 to 1. Those approval ratings sound positively presidential.

We finish the newsletter tonight with the most important issue to the conservative mind (besides opposing taxation, of course), the issue of when life begins. Every year we see amendments offered at the state level to redefine personhood to include uteruses that contain both an egg and sperm. This is absolutely ridiculous. It is insulting to the intellectual populace of this great country to deny the simple truth that life begins at first date. Many naysayers would try to point out that only a minute few of the first dates that occur result in actual pregnancy, but I ask them this: Are you willing to risk the life of a poor unprotected baby by being wrong on this subject? It is high time that we take to the streets to let the President know that we are sick and tired of him talking about jobs (boring!) and start getting down to the REAL issues like the definition of life!

Hamtackle and Terlet got together for an old-fashioned pumpkin carvin' extravaganza.  Can you tell who was the more intoxicated carver?  Oh yes, and FUCK Walmart and King Soopers for having thousands of pumpkin "decorating" kits and no "carving" kits.  That is all.

Terlet

Hamtackle