Modest Mouse(crazy loud intro screen on that site)
The Moon & Antarctica
“Third Planet”

Everything that keeps me together is falling apart, I’ve got
this thing that I consider my only art of fucking people over
My boss just quit the job says he’s goin’ out to find blind spots and he’ll do it
The 3rd Planet is sure that they’re being watched by an eye in the sky that can’t be stopped
When you get to the promise land your gonna shake that eyes hand

Your heart felt good it was drippin’ pitch and made of wood
And your hands and knees felt cold and wet on the grass to me
Outside naked, shiverin’ looking blue, from the cold sunlight that’s reflected off the moon
Baby cum angels fly around you reminding you we used to be three and not just two
And that’s how the world began
And that’s how the world will end

A 3rd had just been made and we were swimming in the
water, didn’t know then was it a son was it a daughter
When it occurred to me that the animals are swimming
around in the water in the oceans in our bodies and
another had been found another ocean on the planet
given that our blood is just like the Atlantic
And how

The universe is shaped exactly like the earth if you go
straight long enough you’ll end up where you were

Everything that keeps me together is falling apart, I’ve got
this thing that I consider my only art of fucking people over.

I’m Grabulater, the Disco Bandit. Right now I’m a level 3 Chill Crook. Refer me if you play. You might end up battling this:

Paper Towelgeist.

I stopped playing this a while ago, then started, because, well, it’s awesome.

i want the terrorists to win, apparently. via pz myers

SQUIDMAS

Culture warriors, rise the fuck up.

The Pixies
Surfer Rosa
“Where is My Mind”

Stop

With your feet in the air and your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Your head’ll collapse
But there’s nothing in it
And you’ll ask yourself

Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?

Way out in the water
See it swimmin’

I was swimmin’ in the Carribean
Animals were hiding behind the rocks
Except the little fish
But they told me, he swears
Tryin’ to talk to me to me to me

Where is my mind [3x]

Way out in the water
See it swimmin’?

With your feet in the air and your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Your head’ll collapse
But there’s nothing in it
And you’ll ask yourself

Where is my mind [3x]

With your feet in the air and your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah

I first heard this song on a couple tabs of LSD with my then-girlfriend Amy. John Otter had found us helpless, locked us in his room, and played this record as he did his chores.
Funny guy that John

pokin around the world today. i got a bag of chips that says “a mediterranean vacation in a bag!”
I do not agree. there are no delicious greek meals in here, or craps tables, or screaming jet-setters at Ibiza yanking their tops off.
No. Bad chips, no vacation in you.

Dumb bitch sees bird in pic from ferris wheel, possibly moth, decides it’s an angel.

From Bad Astronomy

Hahahahahahahahahaha

I decided to let Guh out of the Wednesday lyric (if he wants) and throw one up…. in honor of the tenacious d movie and album “The pick of destiny” I give you…. “Classico”

Can’t you see he’s the man,
Let me hear you applaud,
He is more than a man
He’s a shiny golden god.

If you think its time to fucking rock,
And fucking roll, out of control
Well then you know you’ve got to rock the block,
You fucking suck, my fucking cock

Cause when you rule, you fucking school,
All of the fools, out of there jewels
Cause if you think it’s time to,
If you think it’s time to,
If you think it’s time to fucking rooooock.

He is going to kick your fucking ass,
And you know his name is Kyle Gass
Rocking and fucking rolling,
And fucking rocking, and fucking rolling
And fucking…..(JB SKIT)

And if you haven’t hear it, you are teh lamorz
-Chris

do i forget it’s fuckin’ Wedneesday? It’s not anymore. I think my roommate, who’s a d-bag, was waiting til after midnight to come tell me I’d forgotten. So in tribute to my own date-forgetting douchebaggery, and before hitting the sack, I give you a post-Wednesday lyric,

mc chris
Eatings Not Cheating

I’m like Kenny Rogers in Six Pack
Girls won’t give my dick back
All this sex affects my syntax
The pistol I pack’s impact

Make’s you gasp infact
So sit back, relax
While I grind this axe
On your Brazillian wax

Without finishing fast
I bask in the slash
Underneath your cinnamon ass
About ten minutes it lasts

I pull it out and pass gas
My name is MC Chris
Kinda cute
Kinda crass

Ladies love me sending pics
Where they’re scantily clad
Send some back
Then invite them to come crash at my pad

They’re like
O M G, Oh whut up, that’d be so rad
We make the beast with two backs
Until we both get whiplash

Get with the program
Strip to the slow jam
Slip on a Trojan
Kissin’ the toes and

Move to the knees
Go back, repeat
The job ain’t done
‘Til you ruin the sheets

My name is MC
And your name is a creep
Because you creep into my bed
About every week

Tractor beam on my bed
Got you actin’ le freak
Tractor beam on my bed
Got you actin’ le freak

I should be flirtin’ with virgins
Instead of jerkin’ my gerkin
I should be working the circuit
Assertive for certain

With little aversion
They all open they curtains
Mini-Me starts emergin
To be rid of his burden

Did I fail to mention
All the ladies say word
Got a panty collection
Like a Japanese perv

They’re prepared to purr
And to serve up they curves
I skip the main course
I prefer the hors d’overs

I like thongs, like grannies
Like any old panties
Hanging on the lampshades
As I tap on her back space

I like bows, like lace
Like suckin’ her face
I like fuckin’ her waist
I make a bucket of paste

When her eyes roll back
It means her memory’s erase
Slow-mo, tip-toe
My ass out of her place

I quickly run to the clinic
A q-tip in my dick
I wait two very long weeks
To know if these nuts need a medic
So c’mon

Get with the program
Strip to the slow jam
Slip on a Trojan
Kissin’ the toes and

Move to the knees
Go back, repeat
The job ain’t done
‘Til you ruin the sheets

My name is MC
And your name is a creep
Because you creep into my bed
About every week

Tractor beam on my bed
Got you actin’ le freak
Tractor beam on my bed
Got you actin’ le freak

One of the funniest songs ever fucking made.

if you wanted a fun rundown on how stupid creationists, young-earth creationists, literlists, and all other bits of the revealed-wisdom-borg really are, have some fun:

follow it through, only 4:30, nice and succint.