Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Did White House Fence Jumper Leave the Toilet Seat up for Michelle?

White House fence-jumper made it far deeper into building than previously known
The Secret Service is under scrutiny after a man scaled the White House fence and made it all the way into the East Room...

and into the kitchen, where he managed to whip up a Double-Baked Three-Cheese Soufflé before being tackled, roughed, coughed and duck-walked outside by alert and competent secret service agents.


Winning entry of fence jumper...


Monday, September 29, 2014

Diehard Wolverine Fans call for Coach Brady Hoke's Head

Just some harmless fun with free online newspaper headline generators...


Brady Hoke's Severed Head Leads Michigan to Rose Bowl!
Ann Arbor — Back on September 27, things looked bleak for Brady Hoke and his University of Michigan Wolverines. They had just suffered a 16-point humiliation at home by the Minnesota Gophers and dropping the Wolverines to 2-3 overall.

"There were only a few thousand fans left in the Big House by the fourth quarter that day," garbled Hoke's severed head, "but they sure were loud." The crowd was calling for the head coach's "head" with the "Fire Brady" chant. Apparently, someone took them literally, as Brady's head rolled onto the practice field that next week.

That's when the team turned things around. "We followed Head Coach Brady's head and went on a roll ourselves," said quarterback Devin Gardner. "Coach was finally motivating us to roll with it!"

"We don't not care about your American infidel fooootball," said one jihadist. "But we were like, 'hey! A severed head!'"

Cue wavy line thingys for a look into the future and possible newspaper headline from 2015 season opener...

UM Falls To Appalachian State 62 - 0, as the Wolverine's, led by Brady Hoke's severed head get "OUT THUNK" by the Mountaineers and their new "head coach", Brady Hoke's headless torso.

Friday, September 26, 2014

"Cowardly" White House Fence Jumper runs "fast and furiously" away

There has been another White House Fence Jumper, but this latest episode might be the most bizarre. Up until now, previous jumpers have entered the grounds and made their way towards the White House. This time the situation was reversed, as the jumper was spotted already on the grounds before hopping the fence to escape down Pennsylvania Avenue.

BULLETIN: Be on the lookout for an unknown male suspect being sought for allegedly jumping the WH fence and running "fast and furiously" down Pennsylvania Avenue wearing a dark sweat suit with hoodie, with a weak chin and smelling of marijuana.

Don't be confused if you haven't heard about this story anywhere else, as this is the fruit of another of my under cover Chattering Teeth blog reporting assignments. As readers know, I am able to get these scoops because of my uncanny ability to go deep cover and become one with my environment. Hey, when in Rome, I wear a toga. But if I want to blend in as an every day D.C. tourist and interview agents at the White House Northwest gate without arousing suspicion, I go nude and smelling of urine. I had no pockets for my notepad and pen, so I recorded the facts on my arms and chest with my own dried blood and excrement.

Secret Service agents have taken much criticism for the recent rash of mentally disturbed and/or dangerous individuals hopping the White House fence and running across the lawn towards the White House, but they can hardly be blamed for this latest incident of someone escaping from the grounds. "Hey, we were looking the other way!," said an anonymous agent.

In conclusion, there is now one less mentally disturbed and/or dangerous individual in the White House and that is a good start.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

In Defense of Obama's "Weak and Bitter" Coffee Salute

PICTURED: Sensitive to the criticism, President Obama now stops and gives a proper salute to every Starbucks and coffee shop he passes.



By now most of us are familiar with this:


AT LEAST HE MADE AN EFFORT THIS TIME!

And really, aside from his execution of foreign policy and military strategy, wasn't THIS a bigger insult to our men in uniform?

Obama drops new Marine girly hat mandate - but still insists all male warriors must wear rouge.


They also didn't care for the new Obama-mandated Marine Hyme (replacing the Halls Of Montezuma)


From the Malls to Saks Fifth Avenue
To the Stores of Gucci;
We will fight our country's battles
But first let's go boutique;
Exfoliate and foundation;
Wen to keep us tangle-free;
Mascara, blush and manicured cuticles;
We're United States Marines



uhhh... YaHooo.. ey Rah!?

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

SHOCKING NEW HILLARY, SAUL LETTER UNCOVERED!

Hillary Clinton, Saul Alinsky correspondence revealed

But an earlier letter has now been found in the dark recesses of Lois Lerner's computer hard drive...
Dear Saul, I am 23 years old.

Some of my little Berkeley hippie friends say there are no Radical Rule Clauses.

My left-wing law firm Treuhaft, Walker and Burnstein, says, “If you see it in Alinsky's book, it’s so.”

Please tell me the truth, are there Rules for Radicals, or did I somehow miss the fulfillment of Revelation?

Hillary Rodham


Hillary, your little Berkeley friends are wrong. They have been affected by the prosperity of a free market age. They do not believe except they see that which is achievable by a free people unchained by the shackles of an oppressive government.

Yes, Hillary, there are Saul Radical Rule Clauses. They exists as certainly as redistribution of wealth and insurmountable debt exists. 

How dreary would be the world for us godless communists if there were no Saul Radical Rule Clauses! It would be as dreary as if there were no Hillarys. It would be as if all the Hillarys were found dead in a federal park in Virginia and staged to appear as suicides. You catch my drift Hillary?  Remember, “Power is not only what you have, but what the enemy thinks you have,” so get back with the program hippie girl.

Not believe in Saul Radical Rule Clauses! You might as well not believe in fairies... or their votes!  You might hire men to watch in all the chimneys to catch ol' Saul Claus, but even if they did not see me coming, what would that prove? I'll just wear a Pokemon hat and hop the fence, whaddya think of that?

No Saul Clauses! Thank Marx I live. 10 presidential terms from now, Hillary, nay 10 times 10 terms from now, my book will continue to fundamentally change and destroy this country's founding.

Saul

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Will Obama get Schooled in Chicago?

Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel grabbed hold of the greasy handrail, as the doors closed and the train jerked to a start on its way toward downtown and City Hall. Rahm still liked to ride the Brown Line to work when he could, as he believed it made him appear to be a mayor of the common people. "Never let a good photo op go to waste," he thought.

His mood darkened as he read the Tribune...

Mayor: New high school won't be named after President Obama
Mayor Rahm Emanuel backed off Thursday from naming a new elite high school after President Barack Obama amid ongoing criticism from African-Americans who felt the honor inappropriate for a school slated for a wealthy, predominantly white part of the Near North Side.


Rahm was still angry at these vocal citizens for making him back down. "I promised the President! So my new school is too rich and too white? Where do these mu&%#$ f#$%ers think Obama sends his girls? Sidwell Friends wasn't exactly the Blackboard Jungle!" 

Just then, Rahm cringed as his cell phone began to play "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" from his pants pocket, the ringtone he had personalized so he knew when the president was calling. He resisted the urge to pirouette on this crowded train, and promised himself to afford the time in the quiet confines of his office.

He hesitantly answered his phone.

RAHM: uhhh.. Hello? Mister president?
OBAMA: Where's "Rahm-bo?" What have you done with my former chief of staff?
RAHM: Mr. president, I know you must be angry with me, but there was just too much public pressure...
OBAMA: Pressure? I had the entire healthcare system named after me against public support and threat of impeachment and you can't even get one measley school named after me on the north side of Chicago?
RAHM: B.b.b...but the latest Tribune poll shows that 6 in 10 African-American voters disapprove of my job performance...
OBAMA: Those are way better approval numbers you ever got for your dance performances. Listen Rahm. Let me be clear. I have to go now or I'll miss my tee time. FIX THIS, or I will be calling an emergency meeting with my joint chiefs on this issue next week. I will not hesitate to get boots on the ground over this, am I clear?

The *click* announced the president disconnecting without waiting for his response.

Rahm knew he had to come up with an alternative that made the president happy, not because he needed Obama's support in the future. Quite the opposite, since the president's job approval numbers were worse than his own and he had become toxic after having destroyed the country's economy, national security, health care and shredding the constitution. That said, he could still crush him with his pen and his phone.

He started to brainstorm school name alternatives to get himself out of this jam...

BHO Prep? No, too obvious. HUSSEIN ACADEMY? Hmmm...Maybe...  OBAMA MADRASSA AND FATWAH HIGH SCHOOL? Yes, better... but still not quite... BARRY SOETORO HIGH (AGAIN)?...



Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Hillary's Iowa Steak Fry

Hmmm... So Hillary Clinton was in Iowa to attend Tom Harkin's "steak fry" and kicking off her thinly-veiled presidential campaign bid.

A bit too high-profile for someone who still claims to be making up her mind? Could she have gone to some small-town venue instead? I don’t think Hillary can do off-Broadway, given that the Democratic nomination is hers for the taking. Those same 200 reporters who were herded behind a barrier, waiting for her to grill some steak, would treat any Clinton appearance as red meat.


As I was reading the article, I remember thinking how strange it was that I hadn't fallen asleep. I mean, "I don't feel no ways tired." You see, I suffer from a rare form of narcolepsy that only seems to manifest itself when confronted with a story about Hillary Cli... *yawn*.. Zzzzzz

Cue wavy lines for the upcoming blog dream sequence... 

There I was in the steak line, and in full disguise as a democrat donor. I looked with pity at the other mainstream reporters "herded behind the barriers" like common WWII veterans, and thought to myself, "It's good to be deep-cover Chattering Teeth blog reporter!"

I don't want to describe my wardrobe like I did in yesterday's blog, but let's just say that when you looked at me, I "screamed other people's money."

The line moved forward until finally I stood before none other than Hillary Clinton, the presumptive heir to the throne. She thrust out her spatula and asked:


HILLARY: How do you like your steak sir?

DaBlade: How about a nice, plump cut. heavily marbeled. A red center so rare that it practically moos when they stick a fork in it.

BILL: Ahh! You mean the Monica cut! Honey, don't forget to throw a thick tomato slice on top like a beret!

DaBlade: I don't mean to complain ma'am, but that pre-cooked monstrosity of a steak you're holding is a little overdone for my tastes. In fact, its burned beyond recognition. What do you call that, the Benghazi special? You just leave that steak on the coals and ignore it's pleas for help?

 I wake up face down at my desk in a small pool of cold drool. I think to myself, I would rather stay here than picnic with Hillary Clin.... *yawn* Zzzz

Sunday, September 14, 2014

The NFL’s elaborate security network, and how I Punk'd Roger Goodell.

The NFL's reputation has received a black eye recently (as well as numerous welts and injuries to it's little bare tushy) with it's handling of the Ray Rice incident (the player who knocked out his then-fiancée on an elevator) and now with Vikings running back Adrian Peterson for allegedly striking his 4-year-old son with a tree branch - though in all fairness to Adrian, the branch is likely from a shortleaf pine, a coniferous tree indigenous to that region of Texas and which is most definitely a "softwood". And hasn't Adrian earned our benefit of the doubt in this case when he says the 4-year-old was "gettin' lippy"?

That's why I was more than a little surprised to learn that the NFL has an elaborate security network with the sole purpose of protecting the league from trouble. With approximately $10 billion in annual revenue, the NFL certainly can afford the cost for this "intricate and largely secretive three-layered security force — mainly comprised of former federal agents," but it still wasn't enough to stop the Rice or Peterson incident from occurring.

Hmmmm. "...a vast network of problem solvers who work security in one capacity or another for the National Football League." Kinda Orwellian creepy if you ask me:

Its emphases are swiftness and thoroughness, its tentacles reaching into states even without an NFL team, its code mostly one of silence. And while its agents can help keep bad actors from ever getting to the league by vetting them beforehand, they are equally if not more valuable in funnelling information back to the league office once problems occur to help make sure NFL leaders are not caught off guard.


It was at this point in the article when I nodded off (don't judge! I get sleepy when I read)... and *yaawn* started to dream... Zzz

Cue wavy lines for the upcoming blog dream sequence...

I was on another undercover blog assignment to investigate, and hopefully penetrate, the highly secretive uppermost level of the NFL’s security department with headquarters located in an anonymous New York City highrise. My advanced scouting report indicated this facility was crawling with decorated former law-enforcement officials on high alert for paparazzi from TMZ. While I had never heard of "paparazzi from TMZ", I do love mine with pepperoni, sausage, mushroom and onion, and I made a mental note to try this TMZ pizzeria joint after completion of my assignment.

The secret to being a successful deep-cover Chattering Teeth blog reporter is my uncanny ability to transform myself into a different person for each job. That is also, coincidentally, an IMDb plot summary of Legends, one of my new favorite TV shows.

Of course, I take it a step further than simply disguising myself with a fake mustache, speaking in a bogus French accent and putting bologna slices in each shoe (which I assume all good operatives do)... No, I go for TOTAL and complete assimilation in order to become one with my surroundings - veritably invisible in plain sight by watchful eyes. It's an occupation not without perils, however.

For example, after my undercover assignment to spy on the status of the president's billiards game in a Boston bar this summer, my steps to fit in got me addicted to Slippery Nipples from dirt glasses. Numerous discarded miniature umbrellas, as well as Chinese takeout boxes littered my blog studio until an intervention finally inspired me to get cleaned up. I am just happy the quality of my writing on this blog has not suffered.

But I digress.

I walked through the lobby and past the initial security desk unmolested. Obviously, my disguise was working. I was wearing a puffy shirt under well worn Lederhosen with crocheted suspenders, knee-high socks shoved into unbuckled size 12 rubber rain galoshes. I walked to the bank of elevators clutching my delivery and hit the "up" button, all the while humming the theme to that Titanic movie.

When the doors opened, I was initially taken aback to see the elevator attendant was none other than suspended player Ray Rice, his bellhop hat and tassel sitting on his head and slightly askew. Reluctantly I climbed aboard, pulling my own Pokémon hat down to hide my face from any security camera, and to also work as a sort of "sneeze guard" in the event that Rice attempted to spit on me. This hat had already proven its metal by getting me on the north lawn at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave recently in a dry run for this assignment.


"What Floor?," he asked.

"Top floor executive security suites. I have a delivery... Hey, aren't you Ray Rice, the player recently suspended for domestic violence? What are you doing here?"

"It's part of the top secret NFL rehabilitation program for problem players," he answered. "Some suit thought that if I worked the scene of the crime, so to speak, then I would eventually become desensitized to my violent reaction when confronted with "extreme femininity" in enclosed elevators."

I silently congratulated myself for not wearing my "Michael Sam" disguise, or otherwise dressing in drag as I am apt to do on most weekends.

The elevator *ding* announced our arrival to my destination, and I was once again thankful I wouldn't need help disembarking the elevator, dragged unconscious by my lederhosen suspenders.

As I stepped out and onto the top floor, I was immediately surrounded by gentleman wearing dark suits and sunglasses, each with an earbud protruding from one ear for surreptitious communications, or more likely just tuned to the ESPN network. My training took over as I nonchalantly thrust the bag of donuts at these semi-retired law enforcement officers, while in the other hand I held up the bright yellow Pikachu doll with one missing eye (hey, you use what props are readily at your disposal... or in this case, what is kept on your pillow).

"Special delivery for NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell," I stated, but the guards had quickly lost interest in me, pouncing on the donuts as I quietly slipped past.

I was in.

I made my way down the hallway marked by a sign that said, TOP SECRET NFL REHABILITATION PROGRAM FOR PROBLEM PLAYERS, and thought to myself, "this could get interesting."

The first door I passed said "DAYCARE", and peeking inside I noticed Adrian Peterson busily changing a dirty diaper in a room full of babies and children, and was decorated with various large potted trees. Even NFL executives needed daycare and the occasional babysitter, and I was thankful these small children were not left unattended.

Proceeding down the hall, I came to a door with stenciling stating GAME ROOM. I cracked the door and spotted Detroit Lion's tackle,  Ndamukong Suh engaged in a heated game of Donkey Kong with Carolina Panthers quarterback Cam Newton. I knew that Newton had recently stepped in it when he referred to the Lion's player as "Donkey Kong Suh", a term that would have been considered a thinly-veiled racial slur had it come from a white player. Detroit News columnist Terry Foster mused this: "Well, let’s say Green Bay Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers called Suh “Donkey Kong.” Now you have a white guy calling a black guy a gorilla."


I don't know if Rodgers would have been suspended for that, or an apology demanded, but I couldn't help wondering how well the Packers QB would perform against Suh on the Donkey Kong field of play and whether he would be doing his patented "Discount Double Check" move to the 350lb Suh.

Continuing on, I silently practiced my expected upcoming confrontation with Goodell. "Sir, did you lie to the American public when you claimed that Susan Rice never saw that hateful video that spurred the tragedy at Benghazi, and do you share my desire to see Susan Rice, Hillary Clinton andd DNC "Chairbabe Debbie Blabbermouth Schultz" share an extended elevator ride with Ray Rice?"

Stenciled on the front of the next door announced this as the SURVEILLANCE DEPT. It was a large conference type room with banks of monitors being stared at by hundreds of surveillance staff. I had earlier pirated a mop from the Janitor's closet, so I now began to push it around and behind the work stations, roundly ignored as I eavesdropped on their reports.

I quickly discerned these monitors were importing date streams from countless video surveillance feeds across the country monitoring everything from cash register transactions and time clocks, to motor traffic, malls, bars, elevators, and drone feeds.

Station 33 ALERT! I have Johnny Football riding an escalator at his local mall and he appears to be arguing with a female! They appear to be playing tug-o-war with a bag of Cinnabons. This could get ugly. All stations RED ALERT! Let's see if we can get some boots on the ground people! Is there a mall cop nearby where we might get some audio? 

STAND DOWN. I repeat, STAND DOWN! The subjects have exited the escalator and now appear to be sharing the Cinnabons. Good work people. Disaster avoided. THIS time. But don't ever forget.

We have to be right every time. The NFL player just has to be right once.

Friday, September 12, 2014

It's Curtains for ElDiablObama

So do YOU see the horns?
Obama's Halo Turns Into Horns

Drudge debuted a photo of Obama from his speech (Wednesday) night with the curtains behind him formed into the shape of devil horns... one can't help but wonder if the last few years of lies, deception and scandals have finally taken a toll on how photographers present him.




I'm sorry. Maybe it's just me, but I'm not seeing any horns.

This must be one of them obstacle intrusion thingys.  You know the ones...
"Is it Marilyn Monroe or is it Albert Einstein?". "it's a horse!" "No, it's a frog you big dummy!" Or the latest, "Is it a president or just a community organizing jackass?"


Frustrated that I couldn't see what everybody else apparently could see, I enlarged the picture and zoomed in on the president so I could search pixel by pixel for these so-called horns everybody is talking about.
Nope. Still not getting it. All I can see are regular curtains behind our glorious leader. REALLY people? Sometimes curtains 'just be' curtains.

Can we just put this nonsense to rest and let our president get back to work protecting us?

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Michelle "Rocks" Barrack on Elevator

First, there was the disturbing act of domestic violence involving NFL running back Ray Rice knocking out his now wife in an elevator. Now this...


Saturday, September 6, 2014

I STAND WITH MARIAN!

Check out this screen capture of today's front page web edition of the Detroit Free Press and it should tell you all you need to know about the culture rot stew we're soaking in.


Apparently, today's top "front page worthy" stories include the outcry over a knocked-up lesbian chemistry teacher losing her job (and apparently custody of the classroom turkey baster), a vacant and decaying building in downtown Detroit getting a makeover (isn't that like putting lipstick on a Fluke?), and lastly - a heart-warming, human-interest story about Detroit satanists who promise not to sacrifice animals and people. (which moves the Detroit satanists to the superior moral highground over the near-by Dearborn muslim population).

Seriously? THESE are your top stories today? BTW, I pinky swear I did not Photoshop that front page.

The other thing I find of interest is the wording of the headlines, and how they attempt to project two concepts:
#1 THIS IS NEWS YOU SHOULD CARE ABOUT, and
#2 THIS IS HOW/WHAT YOU SHOULD FEEL/THINK ABOUT IT.

Take, for example, the top story. The headline reads:
Support grows for gay teacher who says pregnancy cost her job


The wording is meant to get you to share in a collective outrage over the apparent homophobic and discriminatory treatment of this poor lady, and maybe even to "spur" you into action in joining the "outpouring of support and a social media and letter-writing campaign" against these archaic haters.



The article links to an online petition challenging you to STAND WITH BARB WEBB! A letter was sent to administrators, which reads in part:

...We ask that you change your policies around LGBT issues for staff and students. We want to know that all people associated with Marian will have a fair chance at success and happiness in their life no matter what sexual orientation they are. We would like to see a student LGBT group...


But what if the headline to this same story were to read:

Support grows for all-girls Catholic School in Bloomfield Hills releasing teacher who violated a morality clause with “lifestyle or actions directly contradictory to the Catholic faith”

That's right. Marian is a Catholic, all-girls school in Bloomfield Hills, with an annual tuition this year of $11,600. So let me be clear (as our illustrious Dear Leader likes to say) ...

I STAND WITH MARIAN!

According to new numbers from the USDA, the average cost of raising a child to the age of 18 has skyrocketed to $245,000. Almost a quarter of a $Million, and that's BEFORE college costs! That figure also assumes you "take advantage" of public education and Michelle Obama's free lunches. That figure DOES NOT include tuition to send your daughter to Marian. (I'm guessing Sandra Fluke and her expenses were also dropped from this study, as this amount wouldn't cover her annual cost of contraception).

As it is with all averages, some pay more and some pay less.

And that's my point. I STAND WITH MARIAN because $245,000 might be about how much the wife and I paid to cover the cost of our boy's hockey skates and ice times from their high school years, and maybe a bit towards their Catholic school tuition. Yes, the high cost of parochial secondary education, coupled with expensive extra-curricular activities is OPTIONAL. My wife and I had made the decision that our children's education was worth the additional substantial cost in order to avoid the State-controlled secondary indoctrination that amounts to, at best, a soft child abuse in my opinion.

I STAND WITH MARIAN HIGH SCHOOL, because it is a beautiful Catholic college preparatory school for young women, founded in 1959 and sponsored by the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.  Go to their website linked above and if you do nothing else, watch their promotional video on the right border titled "see why parents and students choose Marian."

STUDENT: "...I love the teachers. I can really look up to them, and I can learn so much from them."

So in conclusion, I have a solution, and it ties in ALL 3 STORIES mentioned at the top.  If you are one of the parents or students who is outraged at Marian in their firing of this pregnant lesbian teacher, then by all means go visit the Detroit Satanists Progressive Prep High School for the morally corrupt and insane.  That vacant building getting the makeover in downtown Detroit could house this new school. Maybe they would also be happy to start your little LBGLMNOP club of like-minded carpet munchers. In any case, I think you will find their "morality clause" more to your liking.

We, at Detroit Satanist High School promise not to let your little one's sacrifice go wasted!
"..bbb-but you promised not to sacrifice humans or animals?! *lip quiver*"
Thaaat's right, but we here at DSPP lie!
Don't forget this week's Friday night football game. Come out and support your Hell Devils while you still can!

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Chicken Synergy

BLOG READER ADVISORY: Ready to have your virtual minds blown in 3 steps?

STEP #1
Back in May, I posted about cutting-edge technology involving virtual reality headsets made FOR chickens, "making them believe they are free-range, even if they are not," titled:
Top 5 ways to spoil your chicken




STEP #2
Say hello to I, Chicken, PETA’s Innovative Virtual Reality Experience, which promises to "Turn You Into a Chicken"



PETA’s youth division, peta2, will take the cutting-edge, three-minute I, Chicken experience to more than a hundred college campuses, where thousands of young people will discover firsthand what it’s like to be a chicken—seeing their reflection, socializing with other chickens, and enjoying a dust bath. The VR experience helps people develop empathy for chickens, who aren’t seen as individuals with interests, wants, and needs but rather as producers of meat and eggs.


I sense that some of you may be ahead of me already...



STEP #3
IMAGINE, if you will, joining these two distinct technologies together. On the one hand you have chickens wearing virtual reality headsets displaying soothing utopic chicken scenes and peaceful surroundings. Sure, the virtual stimuli are all lies, as the chickens are actually standing in their own feces awaiting slaughter. NOW IMAGINE that the human wearing the I, Chicken headset is wired to a chicken wearing it's own VR headset....

I'll take a second so you can catch up on that last concept... The human "sees" what the virtual chicken would "see" out of the chicken VR... To recap, my twist on these existing technologies will allow people wearing these headsets to ignore the reality of their situation, believe the lies they are continually being fed while they march forward toward their own decapitation.

I call it "I, Journalist".

Here is the split screen video of a gentleman "playing" I, Chicken. I find it hilarious watching these clueless creatures strut around without a cogent thought in their heads... I'm talking about human liberals. I love the chickens.

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Chatterpedia update

The Only Answer to the Evil of ISIS: Eliminate it By Force
'nuff said.


 Soldiers 1 Camel Spiders 0 (language warning)
UPDATE on leaked celeb cartoon nudes! (by popular demand)
According to Chatterpedia, this is the early concept of Betty Boop (originally "Sandra Flookes")
sorry.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Hacked Celeb Cartoon Nudes have some animated

First came the naked and semi-naked pictures of celebrities like Jennifer Lawrence put online by hackers who hacked the celebrities’ online accounts. Now comes a massive cache of nude pictures of cartoon celebrities hitting the internet.

What Spongebob Squarepants (the first openly gay cartoon sea sponge) and his starfish pal Patrick share in the privacy of their own iCloud is not my business.

UPDATE: Chattering Teeth Blog has learned that Sandra Fluke is suing the anonymous hacker for refusing to publish the pictures of herself in the buff that she sent him numerous times, only to receive them back with "Return to Transgender" in the subject line. There are some things even the most perversely curious don't seem to have the stomach for.