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Well, what a stimulating day of negativity! I would like to state, for the record, that Johnny Sweatpants is really a helluva guy, and my best friend. I cannot imagine a world in which his humor and his personality were not an integral part of how I look at life. I can only hope that the rest of you, and the world at large, view it the same way.
I look at his sense of humor VS mine the way that Jimmy Olsen looks at himself VS Superman. I’ll take the pictures and follow you around, but I can’t carry Miss Lane AND a helicopter. Could never hope to, could never aspire to. I mean that in the most sincerest way possible.
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This second picture has nothing to do with anything. I just think it’s awesome. And I want to have babies with this woman.Ditto his ability at all sorts of games. He possesses the mind of an advanced human being, and I hope to God, I hope to Hell, I hope to the Utterly Indifferent Universe that I could someday be an uncle to his offspring. Because THOSE kids would kick the shit out of other kids at Ms. Pac Man. We would see to it. And it would be a crime against Nature for his gene pool to lie stagnant. As I feel about my own. But that’s a topic for a WHOLE other blog.
Awww. Little Sweatpants! Just look at him go!That notwithstanding, we had a lot of good Sweatpants-bashing this week. Here’s JPX, with a great assortment of brotherly rage:
Don't play games with him
Frustrating experience
You will never win
(True…)
He's lost many phones
More phones than I have fingers
Who loses a phone?
(Brilliant, and not the place to get into JSP’s lack of common sense about basic items. I once had to order a pizza for him from New York, to be delivered in San Francisco, or Walnut Creek, or whatever the hell.)
AC, whose brainchild this all was, dropped some serious bombs about everyone, and recovered from her initial weekly All Copout haikus:
johnny's a bastard
got me to join facebook,
then whipped me at word twist
miko's a bastard
joined our clan, made us love him,
divorced our asses
jordan's a bastard
a writer who won't haiku;
use an alias!
Catfreeeek, never one to disappoint, had SO many gems, and for a while I thought she had the title:
Stan wrestled my kids
Taught Zeke the famous nut shot
He screwed himself there
(so true…so true…)
JSP's love life
At the Showcase Cinema
Dumb concessionists
Do I have that right?
Stan dated those dim wits too
Some easy targets
And Puffinslayer
Too busy gluing his ears
So they looked elvish
(All of which is SO true…SO true…)
Trevor, Tami’s Friend and Math Teacher, even got involved, with a couple that almost had me awarding him the title:
Johnny - Don't know him
I don't know any of you
Gonna stay that way
Johnny Sweatpants tale
Kissed me on the mouth after
my wedding! - not true.
In the end, Julie takes the title this week with two well-placed barbs that hit a double bullseye, one staying true to the “roast” spirit and effectively destroying everyone at once:
Too many haikus.
You all kind of suck, really.
I mean, get a life.
Every Wednesday, I couldn’t imagine a better haiku, no matter what the topic. And then there was this nugget, based on (in theory) the kid mashing his hands on the keyboard:
Zack can't type for shit.
Is it mean to roast babies?
'Cause you know, yummy!
The entire concept of baby roasting, especially considering that she was trashing her own (based on horrible typing skills), was the knockout blow. It went down to the basis of humor: here’s a mom, offering up her child for devouring, with Catfreeeek waiting in the wings for leftovers. The reader is JOLTED into a situation that demands their brain accept two very different concepts.
Such is the stuff of brilliant comedy. As Mel Brooks once famously said, “Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when YOU walk into an open sewer and die.” I think I may have quoted that one before. I suck.
Congratulations, Julie, and nicely done, everyone!