Addressing Hacker Group Anonymous About a Job

 anonymous job address

 Anonymous Job Search by Brendan Mcloughlin

Unemployment is a bitch. Wait. Not a bitch. A super ugly, bitch—in heat…that’s drunk, wants sex and verbally abuses you in front of friends and family. It can leave anyone feeling dejected , hopeless and demoralized.

Luckily, there’s still one place left to try. [Read more...]

Really?! Really?! America – 2012! by Natalie Wall

The Creators of “Honey Boo Boo”- What the fucking fuck, TLC?!?! WHAT THE FUCKING, FUCK?! You do realize you are “The Learning Channel” right?

My Facebook Newsfeed – ick.

Email’s from Papa John’s – Stop it Papa John’s. Just stop it! Stop whispering those sweet nothings into my ear… your charm and extensive selection of hearty sausages has no effect on me anymore!

Vince Vaughn - I… I… I don’t like you.

2012 Political Election Coverage -  I…I…I didn’t like you.

This Girl -  She’s talking to her parole officer FYI….oh, and she has a FUCKING CHILD!

Whoever was the douche that fired Dan Harmon (Creator of “Community”) - Seriously?! Community is fucking amazing but you think the best thing to do is fire it’s fucking creator and bring it back mid-season on a Friday night slot?! It’s like you don’t want to make money, NBC…like, ever.

Adam Levin’s tattoos - ick.

People that have expendable incomes – shut up.

Inventors of boxed wine – Hah. I’m just shitting you. Y’all the best!

 

Slutty but Funny

Natalie Wall likes to think she is a female comedian but the reality is she’s a NYC girl trying to make it big. If she’s not writing in her blog, Awkward Sex and the City, she’s spraying vanilla icing on a mini donut or thinking of ways to kill Dora from Dora the Explorer. Help her, humor her and fall in love with the pale pasty princess straight out of Compton (not really).

 

Danny’s Comedy Rants 2012 Shit List

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The holidays usually grind my teeth to a dull point for the usual reasons: long lines to buy crap I can’t afford, enduring the endless surgery stories from people who may or may not be my distant relatives, the fact that everyone around me appears happy and cheery at all times. The one bright spot of my holidays is that the long, insufferable year begins to finally draw its last breaths. It gives me a chance to say a long, loud goodbye to all the people, policies and protoplasm masquerading as people who made the world a less grander place.

- Rick Santorum
It was very hard to narrow down the douchiest from the roster of douchebags who vied for the chance to have their ass handed to them by President Barack Obama in 2012. They were a “Who’s Who?” of “Who Sucks?” in today’s all or nothing political climate. Santorum, however, was the frosty, white cream of the crap heap both figuratively and by the very definition of his name (apologies to those of you who are eating or engaging in gay sex while reading this). When his time came to be the frontrunner of the GOP primary’s quest to find the most plausible candidate who isn’t named Mitt Romney, he couldn’t have fired up the right wing base more if he took a flamethrower to them at an NRA rally. He used his God given talent to divide and permanently disgusted face to take down groups and issues that were getting too meddlesome like women, pro-choice people, homosexuals and health care that prevents people from dying from easily treatable conditions. Then when he ran out of things to hate, he alone made the use and coverage of contraception an issue, a debate settled so long ago that even the characters on “Mad Men” stopped discussing it. Even after his party’s massive losses, he continued to reach for the spotlight by speaking out against something that shouldn’t even be up for debate: the adoption of a UN treaty that calls for universal disability standards based on the Americans with Disabilities Act. The very idea that this walking bag of pomposity has an ounce of relevance left makes me wish there was a Mayan apocalypse so we wouldn’t have to witness the influence he’ll try to wield in 2013 to demand that fetuses pay their fair share of taxes and the elderly stop insisting that everyone else pay for the oxygen they breathe whether it comes out of a tank or the sky.

- Donald Trump
My goal was to limit this year-end diatribe to just one politician and thankfully Donald Trump isn’t one. That’s not just good for myself. It’s good for the nation, the world and the universe as a whole assuming there are alien life forces on the far reaches of the galaxy who are trying to get as far away from Earth as they can so the thing on Trump’s head doesn’t eat them. He may not have officially run for office but he tried like hell to be something much more powerful and dangerous: a lobbyist. And normally, people who lobby on behalf of the mentally deficient are actually doing good work unless the lobbying they are doing is to meet their crazy demands like proof that the President got good grades in college or has a valid American birth certificate. Every time this bloviated fat head opened his mouth, the media ate it up with a big wooden, cooking spoon. He injected us with more hype than an “Indiana Jones” sequel and released “bombshells” that could be less important if they included a step by step cure for shingles and in the end, it was all to promote some dumb reality show that lets celebrities have knife fights over what kind of pizza they should order for dinner. I’m not a religious man but if there is a Hell, there is a special place in it for Trump with a job as a janitor in one of his bankrupt casinos.

- Honey Boo Boo
This one was a real no-brainer. It was also an easy choice to make for the biggest douchebags of 2012. This egotistical toddler accomplished something that no one thought was possible: She helped TLC reach a new low. Her reality TV stardom made it OK for people to hate on children for the first time since “Webster” hit the airwaves. This wasn’t just a case of another annoying celebrity trying to wedge a meaningless catchphrase into the American lexicon by shoving it into our brains with a potato masher. It was a total mental breakdown of the nation’s collective conscience. A record number of people actually found entertainment in watching a family of carb-consuming monsters find happiness in letting the world revolve around their demanding, egotistical spotlight whore. Sometimes I wonder if Congress’ attempt to dismantle the “Head Start” program isn’t a power hungry grab to convert those funds into increasing abstinence education. It’s a way to prevent us from turning into the movie “Dumbocracy.”

 

Danny Gallagher is a freelance writer, humorist and reporter and a regular contributor to TruTV’s “Dumb as a Blog“, Playboy’s “The Smoking Jacket“, MTV’s Clutch and the Shadowbox Comedy Theater of Columbus. His humor and feature writing has also appeared in Aol’s TVSquad.com and Asylum.com, Spike.com, Esquire Magazine, Cracked.com, Mental Floss Magazine, The Christian Science Monitor, Chicago Tribune’s “Redeye,” The Austin American-Statesmen and The Center for the Easily Amused. He doesn’t shower much.

 

Stupidest Assholes of 2012, The List – by Elton Edgar

mayan

Katt Williams, goes drugged up nuts at concerts and then slaps a K-Mart employee while running from the police.

Rupert Murdoch, phone tapping extraordinaire takes down a media institution with stupidity.

Jerry Sandusky, the Penn State asst. coach for molesting kids via a childrens charity.

Mel Gibson, loses his shit and screams at a writer, in front of a 15 year old kid.

Dish Network, for taking out its legal tantrums out on its own customers by cutting AMC from it’s line up.

2012 Olympic Judges, for robbing South Korean female fencer Shin Lam of a chance at a gold medal, because they don’t understand that clocks break.

The Mayans, ending their calendar in a year that has — not only the internet and television — but, is populated by psychics, psuedo-experts and mid-western apocalypse wackos, all of whom can type and make videos.

Disney, after they stripped a cartoon princess of her Latin heritage.

Todd Akin, kills the Republican party and gives the world one of its most absurd pop culture phrases to date with his “legitimate rape” comment.

Mitt Romney insults 47% of the American public…and still thought he’d win the election.

Chik-Fil-A, gives homophobes an official chicken sponsor.

Nakoula Basseley Nakoula, for making a film so bad it drove Muslims to murder.

Kenneth Krause, for fat-shaming a newscaster via email, then saying he didn’t when she calls him out on t.v.

 

EltonElton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.

 

Top 6 List ~ Stupid Shit You’ll Need This Thanksgiving – Elton Edgar

Thanksgiving is here again! Oh, the joy of celebrating the pilgrims of yore, quashing a turkey uprising and feeding on their bodies in triumphant feasting. God bless meat eating America! So, in celebration, you’ve prepared a feast fit for a fat, unhealthy king. The table is set, family and friends are arriving and you feel like it’s safe to retreat to the bathroom and sob in quiet, desperate misery until the whole thing’s over, but, wait…there’s a problem…Ohhhh, you should have gotten…

6. More Damned Chairs 

Stupid chairs. It’s always something isn’t it? Everything is perfect, until people start sitting down. Then, the chairs fill up and those left standing look around, helplessly, for space to plant their asses. Studies show that people take there asses everywhere they go, and like to sit on them from time to time. Unfortunately, your house has enough seating for you and yours, not them and theirs. What the hell can you do? These people are screaming internally and secretly voting you “Years Biggest Asshole”! Something will be done and it’s either, these pricks eat standing up or it’s the floor for Aunt Flo and Grandpa Flat Ass.

The Solution: Pick up some folding chairs from a Wal-Mart type of store, home improvement place or steal them from an auditorium with a loose security policy. While you’re there, you might think about a small fold up card table. It’ll help keep elderly people from piling plates on your stereo, Xbox or porn magazine laden end tables. The damned heathens.

5. An Electric Knife

What the hell do I need that for? I have regular NON-electric knives. Why spend the money? Sure, that’s perfectly sound logic. It’ll work well for you too, as you’re sweating out three weeks worth of water intake onto a now mutilated turkey, mutter obscenities within earshot of Granny. Why use the knife at all? Gouge at the turkey with your bare, unwashed claws Captain Caveman? 

The Solution: Buy an electric knife. It makes the job of carving up a turkey a thousand times easier and a million times cleaner. Plus, they’re cheap, which saves money for anti-depressants and hobbies…like, amateur dentistry. Besides, hacking away at the bird, just urges onlookers to wonder if you’re secretly wishing it was them you were sawing at. Wouldn’t it be better if they found that out later, when you creep into their bed room at night? Duh.

4. More Whipped Cream

 Wonderful, wonderful whipped cream, as it happens, is not just for sex any more. People put it on pies and desserts, if you can believe that. “Oh, but, I’ve already bought some.”, you say. Well, that’s it then, you’ve got it handled. Good for you! You have all you need. Wrong. Everyone loves whipped cream and often use pie as an excuse to eat seven pounds worth of it. You don’t have enough.

The Solution: Whatever amount you bought, buy twice that. Whipped cream is the reason why pies were invented. People before pies, had no reason to validate slapping fists full of whipped cream in their faces. Now, they do and will do…a lot. If you have any left over after Thanksgiving (you won’t), you can always use it for other things, like, whippits or slathering it on body parts, like God intended.

3. Cheap Booze

The holidays are a time not only for joy, but, getting shit faced as well. So, imbibing yourself into a sloppy mess is expected, especially at Thanksgiving. In fact, booze is one of the things we’re usually thankful for. Besides, is there a better way to air a family’s dirty laundry and chastise loved ones, other than via wine laced confessions and sweeping accusations? We think not. Alas, as popular as getting tanked is, there’s never enough alcohol to go around.

The Solution: Beer. It’s cheap, plentiful and will fulfill even a hardened drunk’s liquid appetite. Pick up some cheap stuff, it’ll show that you care…but, not that much.

2. Kids Movies 

When inviting family and friends to share in Thanksgiving means you’ll be spending the time with people you mostly like…and their noisy kids. Relentless, sugar fueled kids. They’re needy and demanding. You might have to put down your gin and tonic multiple times just to help them find the bathroom. It’s tiring stuff. A great way to offset their constant wanting of things is television. Kid’s love t.v., especially movies. They’re are a great way to keep whiney children at bay and relieve adults of the itchy shackles of responsibility. All too often, however, movies that are readily available aren’t always kid friendly. This is double for households that don’t usually harbor children. Finding something they like among regular DVD’s can be a hassle. Their attention is rarely captivated by “gripping docu-dramas” involving pregnant midgets, The Office or Goodfellas, as mafia murder plots are almost always outside of their wheelhouse of understanding. What the hell can you do?

The Solution: Redbox, a movie rental vending machine, can deliver semi-new and new release DVD entertainment for around dollar a movie. Use the internet for something other than Facebook, Wikipedia and porn involving Wikipedia to locate one. It beats explaining why an underwear clad Joe Pesci is getting the shit beat out of him with a bat, to a fear screaming 6 year old that just pissed their pants.

1. Microwavable Crap

 Among other things, Thanksgiving wreaks havoc on a budget. Plus, it’s exhausting. The preparing, cooking and eating takes hours, if not a whole day and all the people wandering around in a zombie like haze doesn’t help. Afterward, you’re sick of turkey, at least for the time being and you’re so bloated from it, you don’t want to move…for days. The next day, the refrigerator is clogged solid with the remnants of the feast. Sure, you’re hungry, but, dammit, MORE turkey? You might be toying with the idea of throwing up on yourself for thinking about turkey’s sweet white meat. Should you starve?

The Solution: Pick up frozen microwave meals while you’re over filling your cart with Thanksgiving’s tasty burdens. You might not want it now, but, the day after…a pizza is a nice alternative to reliving the day.

We hope this helps in some small way to alleviate the juicy pain that is Thanksgiving. If it doesn’t, there’s no one to blame but, yourself…and maybe Joe Pesci.

 

EltonElton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.

 

Chris Coletti: His Life Is Better Than Yours – Creamed Chicken

Typically I’m very in control of my surroundings, but every once in awhile I slip up.


Standing in line with a friend at a local drug store recently my mind was becoming numb listening to her tell me why she would have loved to see Gandhi fight Betsy Ross. Trying to purge this nonsense from my mind I started to pick up bits and pieces of the conversation in front of me. Without looking up and still listening to my friend tell me how Mrs. Ross has the reach advantage on Gandhi I hear one of the women ahead of me mention how she needs to buy some creamed corn.


Without thinking, without hesitation, I muttered under my breath “I’ll cream your corn.”
Well, apparently I said it MUCH louder than I realized.


The line of at least 10 customers instantly became deadly quiet as I looked up to see every person in line staring at me like I just boldly announced my sweet love for dead puppy blood. Each person’s face having turned white with horror at my obnoxious declaration of creaming her corn, my friend’s face turned blood red as she tried to suppress the urge to burst out laughing at my stupidity.

“If Ghandi had fought Betsy Ross I’d still be able to buy batteries”


Then I looked to my left at the two women who had been talking and saw that they were both in their mid-70s (which explains their love for creamed corn), each of them looking at me with what can only be described as total disgust mixed with pure hatred. As the clerk gave them their change and they scurried quickly out the door, I moved up to make my purchase. The 30-something year old clerk who clearly hadn’t made the best decisions in her own life & was in no position to cast judgment on anyone glared at me with horrified revulsion and only said “What’s WRONG with you?” as I swiped my card & hurried off with my batteries.


Leaving the still completely quiet store, except for the hysterical laughter of my friend, and feeling the death glares of everyone in line beating down upon me, I realized I could never return to that store and that sometimes, on very rare occasions, my life really isn’t better than yours.


Of course, I then headed to the airport to fly to New York and speak to a sold out crowd of 450 people & then used my free tickets to sit 3rd row at Madison Square Garden to witness “Linsanity” firsthand and remembered that, yeah, it really is…

 


Chris Coletti

Since selling his production company, Digital Imagery Productions, in 2007 Chris spends his days kayaking, enjoying the beaches of California, searching for the perfect snowcone, & traveling the globe inspiring both young & old not to spend their lives being a waste of skin. There’s no doubt that his life is better than yours.

Practical Advice Learned in The Bathroom – Number Two

Practical Advice Learned in The Bathroom

There are a scant few places on Earth that reveal more about a person, than the the places they piss and shit. Only a handful come to mind: bars, churches and opium dens. Still the bathroom and our activities in them, tells so much more.

Take for instance the time I had brunch with a South Indo-chinese war lord to haggle the price of “appropriated” human organs (it’s a bear market). Our exchanges grew heated, so, I excused myself to the restroom. It’s a classic negotiation tactic…and I had to take a dump.

Mid-crap, my mind drifted, away from the low ball offer I was given for kidneys, to the walls of my stall. There on the wall paper among the ugly rubber ducky wall paper, there was shit. Someone had written on the wall…with shit.

What trauma in life brings a man to write with his own dookie? A broken home? Desperation? A lack of shit colored pens? My mind reeled. The implications were enormous. Then, the paranoia set in. What else had this mad shit writer doodled on? I scanned the stall in a frenzy. Shit? Shit? Nothing. Just the wall.

I finished, washed my hands and pondered. Who was this shit scribbling freak? A chill ran through me. He could be anyone. He could be anywhere at anytime. In fact, he might have there with me. Possibly, lurking in the trash can. A round house kick to it’s side proved it empty.

Panicked, I opened the door and ran screaming from the restaurant. I’m sure my war lord friend was curious as to why. He never did settle on a kidney price. Such is life, I suppose, when walls are written with shit.

What did I learn from all of this? A good many things, let me tell you. One, no one understands the words “Poop, shit wall writing!” when you scream it. Two, there is a man named Poupschitz Walrighting who frequents the same restaurants as Indochinese war lords and three, I will be meeting his lawyers next week.

My advice is this: The world is a weird place, so, to be safe assume everyone has shit on their hands.

 
 

EltonElton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.

The Worst Infomercial Ever? – Gladstone


Gladstone is back with the 80th installment of Hate By Numbers. This time he’s counting off arguably the worst infomercial of all time — The Instyler. Watch countless women degrade themselves on youtube for a chance at infomercial fame.

 

gladstone

Gladstone

Gladstone is a columnist for Cracked.com, the creator and star of the Hate By Numbers video series, and the author of the forthcoming novel Notes from the Internet Apocalypse. Most of his stuff can be found on his site.

 

Chris Coletti: His Life is Better than Yours – Hand Molestation

I don’t like being touched by strangers.
Whether it’s someone putting their hand on my knee & uttering “I know good looking when I see it”(but that’s another story) or someone who just doesn’t understand personal space and needs to touch my arm while talking, I don’t want strangers touching me.
And there’s an epidemic sweeping the country called “Hand Molestation.” Thousands of people are afflicted by this scourge each day, chances are it’s touched your life or the life of a loved one. You innocently pay a clerk for a soda and their fingers rub against your palm as they give you change, you take your receipt and the cashier “accidentally” grabs your hand, you make a simple meth purchase and your dealer brushes his palm against your fingers.
To help you in the fight against this growing pestilence, I provide you with the 3 most common forms of Hand Molestation. Use this information wisely. [Read more...]

Practical Advice Learned in The Bathroom – Number One

Being your average, ordinary everyday bad ass, I have used many a bathroom in my time. Be it for the enjoyment of wash closet architecture and tiling or for their secluded enclaves to woo buck-toothed hookers, I’ve enjoyed them all, in one way or another. Though, mostly for pissing, shitting …and prostitutes.

Those same wash rooms have taught me a lot too. Things that, when learned and applied, have greatly enhanced my life. Like, never, ever trust a priest taking confession in port-a-potty, or that “glory holes” are not for recyclables or for glory and it’s impossible to speak to a stranger about your mother while urinating.

While those nuggets of wisdom could warrant a Reader’s Digest novella of scatological life lessons themselves, there are far more to be had. After scouring the world’s bathrooms on the tail end of hangovers, cocaine binges and burrito laden emergencies, I’ve amassed, a literal ass load of practical guidance…just for you. You don’t have to thank me. It’s been my pleasure in more ways than one. The trials and tribulations…the horrific sting ring. Okay, maybe not the sting ring.

Oh, the learned shit, the shits have wrought. There’s so much they’ve taught me. Like the time I was in the Memphis International Airport. I had recently arrived from Paris on a red flight, after selling pirated copies of “The Passion of The Christ” to nuns (don’t ask). On that flight, I had sex with a strange overweight school teacher. She fell in love. When the plane landed I ran. She’d come looking for me, of course, so, I “B” lined for the first bathroom I made eye contact with.

I hid in one of the bathroom’s stalls. A good deal of non-fat girl intrusion time passed and I noticed that no one else had entered the restroom. Weird. I chocked it up to my “manly awesomeness” repelling non-awesome men.

Suddenly, the bathroom door slammed open, then, my stall door was kicked in. It was a group of men in black S.W.A.T. uniforms and gear. I was exposed in all my cowered, whimpering glory. A man pulled me from my chubby girl-less, safe haven.

Believing I was about to be violated sexually, prepared myself. I worked at my belt buckle, but, to my surprise I merely incensed the men. They instead searched my person and the carry on bag full of condoms, miniature booze bottles and dental floss. “Is this it?”, the sex army leader sternly questioned. “The floss, yes. I’m happy to share. Please don’t rape me.”, I replied…vanquished. He looked me over in a puzzled and angry way, then, I was roughly escorted from the bathroom and taken to a security office.

After being questioned for hours, having my luggage searched twice (once by dogs) and receiving 3 body cavity searches (not by dogs), I learned what had happened. A sexually satisfied fat girl saw me run into the bathroom. Unable to breach the sacred barrier of the “Men’s Room” to cash in on a supposed “marriage proposal”, she sought other ways to have me extracted. She told them I was a terrorist. She has since been jailed due to being crazy. I was let go on the grounds of my awesomeness.

I learned a couple of words of advice from this situation. Some involving dogs, others involving fat lovers in confined spaces, still others involving fear pissing. The biggest lesson I learned, however, is that a bathroom is no safe haven when it comes to strange fat jilted mile-high club lovers. My advice…never bang a fat chick that needs a marriage proposal to get it on, because, in the end, there’s going to be a S.W.A.T. Team involved.


EltonElton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.