Truther vs. Al Qaeda

Awesome.

9/11 Conspiracy Theories ‘Ridiculous,’ Al Qaeda Says
(hat tip Hot Air)

A Story, Bit by Bit
Hellbender: Chapter 12 – Recovery

PREVIOUS
As they stumbled back towards their apartment, the sparse streetlights of Theed didn’t allow Doug to see too clearly the battered conditions of his friends. A couple of times he tried to help Charlene when she stumbled, but she quickly shrugged him off. So onward they went, walking beside each other but not with each other, none saying a word until Doug felt he absolutely had to say something to break the silence. “Did you see how I got the sword on that one guy before he drew his gun? That was pretty good.”
“Yes, Doug. That was a brilliant display of basic competency.” Charlene didn’t even look at him. He thought she could be a little nicer since he did draw the sword to keep the guy from shooting her.
“I think that’s where things started to go wrong,” Bryce said.
Charlene stopped. “Are actually going to argue this wasn’t entirely the fault of your idiocy?”
“Hey, I wasn’t the one with the brilliant idea that, when I’m surrounded by a bunch of armed thugs, I should punch one of them in the nose!”
“She was a clearly useless person, and I have a least enough self-respect not take insults from such!” Charlene shouted. “You really think being a meek beggar was the way to get respect from that scum?”
“Why don’t we just compromise and say you both were idiots,” Lulu suggested.
Charlene looked about ready to hit her. “Why did you draw bunnies on it Lulu?!”
Lulu rolled her eyes. “Oh right; that was the problem.”
“It didn’t help.” Bryce added.
Doug didn’t like seeing his friends fight, but at least none of them were blaming him for anything. “I think I see a bus station just a little ways away. Do we still have enough money to take the bus?”
“We’re not so financially desperate we can’t ride the bus.” Bryce marched onwards and the other followed. He took a glance at Doug. “How come you look better than the rest of us?”
“I’ve gotten beaten up so many times, I guess I just know how best to take it.”
“Well, that’s a sad good analogy for us,” Charlene said. “We’ve gotten beaten up so many times, it’s become a skill.”
“And I notice you look worse than the rest of us,” Bryce commented. “I’m guessing you thought it was a bright idea to fight back.”
Lulu glanced at him. “How much product do you use in your hair?”
Though Bryce’s face was quite beaten, he didn’t seem to have one hair out of place. Lulu’s hair was quite a mess, though. “Appearances are important, so I spend time on mine.” He checked his clothing. “I’m going to need a new suit again.”
“Frankly, the whole beating was a bit disorganized.” Lulu wrapped her arms around her chest. “Also, I’m all for equal rights stuff, but I still think it would have been more polite to have the women beat up the women and the men beat up the men. The order was to beat me, not to grope me.”
“Those two women who felt slighted by the fact that I gave each of them my time were a bit immature during their physical attack on me,” Bryce said. “They especially got angry when they found out I was wearing a cup.”
“Why were you wearing a cup?” Lulu asked.
“Because I don’t like getting hit in the crotch.”
“Because he probably knew what happened was a possibility from all his screwing around,” Charlene said.
Lulu giggled. “His screwing screwed us.”
Doug laughed. “It is kinda funny how Bryce thought he was using Lara but she was using him.”
“That’s not what happened!” Bryce shouted.
“None of this is funny!” Charlene yelled. “Bryce’s idiocy has left us in a foreign city with no money!”
“Some money,” Bryce corrected her. “A little money.”
Doug patted the sack hanging off his belt. “And we still got the cube.”
They reached the bus station. According to a sign on it, they had twenty minutes to the next bus.
“I thought for sure Colette could have told that the cube was important,” Bryce said. “We’re all in agreement that there is something quite weird about it.”
It still creeped Doug out, even concealed in its bag. “The Devil told me that one of Hallowed wouldn’t feel anything weird holding it, because they always feel that miserable.”
Bryce looked angry. “That’s some important information you kept from us. If Satan tells you anything useful like that in the future, pass it on.”
“He said his name is Stan, actually,” Doug said.
“Did Stan mention anyone else we could maybe pawn it off to for a few bucks?” Lulu asked.
“Shut up, please!” Charlene looked like she was about to cry. “You thought being unappreciated servants of the government was awful, but I don’t think being insulted and humiliated by criminals is quite an improvement in our lives. I’m not going anywhere else with that stupid cube and beg for money. If we’re going to be criminals ourselves, let’s at least be good ones! Lulu was right; you could tell from how Colette’s men attacked us that they don’t work well as a team. With a little bit of planning — real planning — we could do quite some damage to those people and that arrogant bitch Colette.”
Bryce looked quite hesitant. “There’s no money in revenge. You attach a business plan to that, then maybe.”
“I like Charlene’s idea,” Lulu said. “I say we go back there, cut Colette’s head off, and write on the walls in her blood, ‘This is what you get for being mean.'”
“She doesn’t have any blood. She’s one of the Hollow ones.” Bryce chuckled. “In fact, you could say she quite literally a heartless bitch.”
“No. She’s not literally a heartless bitch,” Lulu corrected. “Because she’s not literally a female dog.”
“She is literally a spiteful and overbearing woman,” Bryce countered, “which is an accepted definition for ‘bitch.'”
“Actually, as she’ll tell you herself, she’s not literally a woman.”
“If you two don’t shut up,” Charlene shouted. “I will literally rip your heads off and shove them up your asses.”
Lulu whispered to Bryce. “Charlene properly use the word ‘literally,’ though she did so for the purpose of hyperbole.”
Charlene smacked Lulu. “Anyway, if there are no objections — and even if there are — I’m taking over Hellbender. If we’re going to be a group of losers, let’s at least be dangerous ones.”
“I really don’t want to kill a bunch of people if that’s the plan,” Doug stated.
“As usual, Doug, your opinion doesn’t matter,” Charlene said.
“Fine.” He noticed a convenience store nearby. “I’ll be back in a sec; I need to pee.”
“Careful not to fall in,” Lulu called out as he walked away. She turned to the others. “Do I have a black eye?”
“You have two,” Charlene replied.
“Dammit.”
When Doug entered the store, he turned to the clerk to ask him if he could use the restroom, but saw it was some sort of electronic entity. Another job stealing robot. Doug weaved by a couple patrons to the back where the men’s room was. It was decently clean, and Doug had to admit that some robots were pretty good at their jobs. Frankly, he liked them better than monkeys.
Doug went to a urinal, but as he unzipped he heard others enter. He turned to see three women. For a moment, he though he might have accidentally entered the wrong restroom, but he realized he was at a urinal which he was quite sure women’s rooms didn’t have. The three women stood behind Doug, and he kept looking back at them. “Uh… I think you’re in the wrong restroom. Don’t feel bad; it’s happened to me before.”
They continued to stand there and stare at him.
“Also, it’s kinda hard for me to go with you guys standing there like that.”
Once again, they didn’t react.
“Um… I think I’ll use a stall.” Doug zipped up and started to walk away, but one of the women grabbed him by the shoulder.
“We want the bunny cube.”
Frankly, a part of Doug really wanted to get rid of the cube. Still, it was about all he and his friends had left, and he was curious to find out its secrets.
Doug turned to face them. “Well, you can’t have it.”


“You probably can’t tell from looking at me, but I got beat up again.”
Doug stumbled back to his three friends at the bus station. Bryce looked him over with a little concern. “We were wondering what took you so long… the bunny cube!”
“Yeah; they took it,” Doug admitted. “I think they were more of those Amazons. I tried to stop them, though.”
“Did you try drawing you sword and killing them?” Charlene asked.
Doug frowned. “That seems a bit extreme.”
“You should feel lucky those psychos didn’t slit your throat, then.”
“Where did they go?” Bryce asked.
“Who cares?” Charlene said. “If Elza’s stupid minions want it, I say let them have it. No more trying to get money in realms we hardly understand.”
“Still, at least this proves it was worth something.” Bryce straightened his ripped tie. “Just like I said.”
Lulu shrugged. “I just hope they appreciate the bunnies.”
NEXT

Can’t Shake the Devil’s Hand and Say You’re Only Kidding

Obama’s new theme song:

From The Conservative Intelligencer.
Being a They Might be Giants fan, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this song myself as soon as the Wright scandal popped up.

IMAO Is Legend!

An urban one.
Apparently, the photoshop from this post is getting passed around as if its real. Now, I came up with the idea for the post as a quick dumb gag and found this photo to work with. Moving the cord seemed like a hard job, so I passed it on to My Photoshop Guy, suggesting maybe he crop the image to make it easier. Ends up he did a great job, with the cord looking just a little bit jagged where it was altered. My Photoshop Guy then decided to add in a clock to further set up the joke. The clock is the part that is most obviously photoshopped, but that was okay to me as it’s just supposed to be a visual gag — real enough at first glance to convey the joke but doesn’t need to hold up to further inspection.
Later, My Photoshop Guy said, if he knew that people weren’t going to see through the edits on the cord, he would have spent more time on the clock — but that’s not the goal here. So, for the record, IMAO is here to make you laugh; not to trick you.

Earth Hour – The Tagline

Apparently Earth Hour was a rousing success, in the sense that cities in civilized nations around the globe voluntarily plunged themselves into darkness, temporarily undoing 50,000 years of human civilization in the process.
A proud moment, to be sure.
The only thing that troubles me is that the words “Earth Hour” weren’t followed by a snappy, earworming, little catchphrase – a big no-no in the modern world of internet viral marketing. As a public service, I toss out the following possibilities so that next year’s event can be even more popular:



* 60 minutes of stupid.
* You’re evil if you don’t.
* Brought to you by the Prince of Darkness.
* Hippies aren’t ugly if you can’t see them.
* [Thunk!] OW! My head!
* As prophesied in Atlas Shrugged.
* A great excuse for having sex, plus 58 bonus minutes!
* This was going to happen in California, anyway.
* At least now you know who to boycott.
* Eventually it won’t be voluntary. Or temporary.


Yours in the comments, please.

In My World: Attack on Barrack

“I bring you a message of hope and change,” Barack Obama told the fawning crowd. “Of not only change that brings hope… but also of hope that brings change. This is a message that people respond to. It is also not the message of my Democratic opponent Hillary Clinton. That’s why I am leading in delegates, and why she… AIEEE!”

“It will be a honkey massacre! That’s in the Bible!”

A large object flew at Obama and struck him in the face. The Secret Service quickly surrounded him. Gun drawn, one looked over the crowd shouting, “Who threw that lamp? WHO THREW THAT LAMP?!”


“We interrupt Dancing with the Stars for the special news bulletin: Senator Barack Obama, while speaking at an even in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, was struck by a lamp. It is currently unknown who threw the lamp and whether it was thrown out of racial hatred or for political reasons. We have been unable to get a comment from Senator Obama as he is reportedly locked in his hotel room sobbing uncontrollably. His wife, Michelle Obama, quickly responded, though.
On screen was Michelle Obama at a podium. “While we are saddened that my husband was struck by a lamp, we are not surprised. As a black man, Barack could have a lamp thrown at him just for going to the gas station — nonetheless running for president. This is just another reason I hate this country. I repeat: I really really hate this country and everything about it.”
The news anchor came back on screen. “Originally, Michelle was a suspect for the lamp throwing as its just assumed from her personality that she at least constantly browbeats her husband, but she was in Canada at the time of the incident because she was reportedly so sick of this country that she just had to get out of it for a while.
“Senator Obama’s pastor and spiritual mentor, Jeremiah Wright, had some words to say about the incident.”
On screen was Wright at the pulpit. “First, the white people in the government made HIV to kill the black man. When that didn’t work, now they’ve moved up to throwing lamps. They’ll do anything to stop Barack Obama, because they know that the first thing he’ll do when he’s president is kill all the honkeys! That’s right; he’ll use the secret government labs to make a virus to kill them! It will be a honkey massacre! That’s in the Bible!” He held up a well-worn copy of Hop on Pop. “Right in here… somewhere near the middle, I think.”
The news anchor came back on screen. “The next suspect of the lamp throwing is, of course, John McCain. As we in the media have remembered that he’s a Republican, we’ve also remembered that he’s therefore evil. We had a reporter sit down and ask him about the incident.”
On screen was McCain sitting uncomfortably. “Since you claim to be a conservative,” an off-screen reporter said, “you must also claim to hate black people. Do you feel any remorse for throwing a lamp at Obama because he’s black?”
“As I’ve told you a thousand times,” McCain snarled, “I don’t hate black people; I hate gooks! They tortured me in Vietnam! I’m tired of explaining this! If I could raise my hands high enough, I’d box your ears! Know why I can’t?”
“Because you’re lazy?”
“Because of the injuries the gooks gave me in ‘Nam! That’s it; lower your head so I can box your ears!”
The news anchor came back on screen. “The final suspect for the incident is Senator Hillary Clinton, often rumored to have thrown lamps out of anger when previously in the White House as first lady. Her campaign released this statement in response to these charges:

“The idea that Hillary Clinton throws lamps in irrational fits of rage is a rumor spread by sexist, misogynist individuals. Anyone could have thrown a lamp at Senator Obama, and the fact that Senator Hillary Clinton was seen in the are holding a lamp for some reason while looking extremely enraged proves nothing. The fact that Senator Obama has made such an ordeal out of a simple lamp throwing when Senator Clinton wasn’t even fazed by imagined snipe fire once again shows the difference in experience between the two candidates. Also, if Senator Obama doesn’t wants lamps thrown at him in the future, maybe he shouldn’t be such an annoying little upstart who gets in the way of a political future destined by fate that no one, and I MEAN NO ONE, can stop me from achieving! You hear that, bitch!”

If We Had Oil

If this is true, then we have all the oil we need and it’s like “so long and thanks for all the fish” to the Middle East. “Hope you guys figure out that Sunni/Shiite thing… and try to get along with the Jews.” We’ll finally be able to tell all the Saudi royalty that they smell like gym socks and are creepy weirdos. Plus, we can be even bigger dicks to other countries now… and they’ll have to suck up to us because we have oil.
In other words, the world will be as it should be.