However, sometimes the attempts to teach a young demon-vessel civilized manners can backfire. Take the case of a friend of mine, who had spent time teaching his three year old daughter that giving compliments is a good thing.

Most of the time the compliments had been harmless. “I like your shirt Mommy” or “I like your cooking Nana” was the order of the day, and was always reinforced with a “thank you” or a “that’s very nice!” At least until the day my friend was in the bathroom when his three year old came in behind him. He’s not shy, and potty training was only recently taking hold so he let it fly. Unfortunately for him, he had no sooner started to go when he heard her say five words:
“I like your penis daddy”
I don’t know about you, but that would be enough to make me stop mid-stream and reconsider my life choices.

Still… how do you respond to that? You have to be very careful with your reactions around a three year old. If you say “NO, dont say that!” then they will wonder why and it will come out at the wrong time. If you laugh, it will be the only thing they say for a week. You can just imagine what would happen if a child were to start yelling “I like your penis daddy” at Wal-Mart hoping for a quick laugh from passers-by.

But thankfully he opted to just say “thank you” and let it drop. At least until his wife came home. His wife thought it was hilarious and cracked up about it for quite some time. Then she told all of her friends, and suddenly he has a new nickname. He is now known as “Daddy” whenever her and her friends get together.

But hey, it could be worse…

For example:

I challenge the readers, email harvesters, and spam-bots that frequent this website to find a horrible/tragic/disgusting/etc video that is NOT made better by the addition of the Benny Hill theme. You can add the theme to any youtube video by using the “Benny Hillifier” here: http://bennyhillifier.com/.

Sub-Challenge: Someone needs to take the 1man1jar video, speed it up a little, and add the theme song.

In either case the best submissions may end up posted here.

Submissions can be commented on this thread (comments screened) or links can be sent via email to clme@ this domain.

“Chris, I put on my robe
and wizard hat. Roll for
initiative. Love, Shaun,
your Dungeon Master”

Almost instantly I wondered if I could take its clothes off.

10 points to Gryffindor.

I wish i knew how to quit you.

I know I speak for all of the PenIsMightier staff when I wish Jeer and TheOnyx a happy life together.

Insert a MIDI of “When Doves Cry” here.

I hung up and went back to sleep. I woke up an hour later wondering if I had dreamed the earlier call. I checked my phone and it verified that the call had indeed happened.

I asked my girlfriend about it over lunch today. She swore adamantly that it was not her sending the flowers. Once I finally believed her, I sat and thought about who might send me flowers:

• My most resent ex: While possible, this would be uncharacteristic of her.
• The company that installed my new air conditioning system a last week (and consequently set off a fire sprinkler while welding a copper pipe without a heat shield, thus flooding part of my condo as well as part of the one underneath and the garage below that): I figured they might be trying to play nice after the massive fuck-up.
• Your mom: She’s such a softie.

The flowers arrived late in the day. This is what I found:
(click for larger images)

Suddenly, I remembered the E-mail conversation:

---

From: Jeer
Subject: Get Lamp

A documentary about text adventure!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UwZxUGmqSOo

and this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4nigRT2KmCE&feature=related

=D

---

From: TheOnyx

I love lamp.

---

From: Jeer

You love dick.

---

From: TheOnyx

You keep hoping for our “Happily Ever After”, but you never do anything about it.

---

From: Jeer

How about I FTD some flowers for you?

Would that make you slip off your chair, sweetheart?

---

From: TheOnyx

It’s like you don’t even know me.

---

Well-played, good sir. Well-played, indeed.

This of course is not surprising from the guy that is best known around here for testicles with smiley faces

Eventually we retreated to the wave pool to bob around for a bit before venturing to the outdoors to forage for dinner. While there, my wife pointed out a particularly large fellow that was floating in the water about 20 feet away from us. He was covered in what can only be described as fur, with each individual strand moving of its own accord, as though possessing a life of its own. It was mesmerizing.

It was at this point that my wife said “Wow, there is finally someone here that is actually hairier than you are.”

Yes, I could feel the love.

I step out the door holding a flashlight and a baseball bat, and start to walk around my house looking for an injured raccoon or a cat in heat. Then I hear the noise again, but this time it sounds less like a feral creature… it almost sounds human.

“whoahoahoahoahoahoahoahoa”

I walk back to the front of my house and then out to the street, trying to ascertain the direction the noise is coming from.

“Whoahoa *gasp* fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck whoahoahoahoahoa”

Ok. That is definitely a human noise.

Finally I look towards the house at the end of the street. There is a single illuminated window in upstairs level of the house, and much of that window is currently blocked by a man and a woman. The woman has her head and breasts out of the window while a man behind her is having sex with her.

So here I am standing in the middle of the street holding a flashlight and a baseball bat, and I’m not wearing shoes or a shirt. Yet, for a fleeting moment, I’m not the strangest person in my neighborhood. While thinking about that, I realize that I should probably not continue to stand in the street, so I wipe the drool off my chin and head back inside to go to bed.

But there turns out to be a problem… the neighbor is loud enough that it keeps me from sleeping. I have no idea what type of drugs give people that much sexual stamina, but she keeps screaming out her window off and on for the next three hours, which makes sleeping difficult. About every 30 minutes or so they take a break, but even then they are loud, since they step outside to smoke a cigarette and yell obscenities at one another. I’m sure it would have been quite a show if I didn’t have to work early that morning.

Finally at about 3am the woman steps outside with her mother. They apparently wanted to have a private conversation, since they crossed the street into my yard and started to talk under my bedroom window. It seems that the reason this show was put on was for the benefit of the woman’s stepfather. The story went that he kept hitting on her, and her mother was ignoring it, so she decided to really make him mad by having wild sex with some asshole as loud as possible while he was trying to sleep.

Yeah. Ok. I’m not sure if that makes sense to anyone else, but I’m still confused as hell about how that was supposed to make the old pervert mad as opposed to making him jerk off furiously outside her door.

Anyway, the woman and her mother continue to chat for about 20 minutes while sharing cigarettes. By the end they were crying and hugging one another.

After this lovefest they all go back inside and there was glorious silence. I sleep like the dead for about two hours… but them I’m jolted awake by the sound of tires squealing as the woman’s fucktoy takes off in a rush, with her yelling insults and chasing after his truck.

While I’m on my way to work I only have one thought on my mind… how the fuck can she still walk?

But nowhere has it made more of a difference than in the lives of creepy child molesters. See, Clash for Clunkers allows them to trade in their 15 year old panel van in favor of something a bit younger, just they way they like it.

The new vehicle of choice? The 2009 Chrysler PT Cruiser. In fact, they can order it with heavily tinted windows and a TV in the back for the kids! The modern child-seat mounts are a great place to secure handcuffs or baling twine as well!

Now, it is true that they may not be able to keep their victims locked up face down in the shag carpet anymore, but damnit, they still have all sorts of fuel-efficient cargo space to work with! Plus, no more straining to lift those 50 pound loads up above their waist while trying to keep the sliding door from closing on their arms. Now, they simply trip the hapless victim into the back and slam the well balanced door shut, letting the child-safety locks do the rest of their work for them.

Throw in sweet aftermarket features such as remote start, and now the molester on-the-job can periodically run the air conditioning or crack the windows! Whether working at the toll-booth, video store, or airport parking security, rest assured that no more will your laced chocolate bunnies melt into the seats!

Yes thats right, the 2009 P.T. Cruiser: Molesters welcome!

Anyway, she approached us and asked quite loudly (to no one in particular) “Hey, how the fuck do you get rid of the hiccups?”

She then proceeded to lean on the table and stare at the center of it, as if daring it not to answer her. As it turns out she was, in fact, hiccuping.

My friends tried to be helpful, but things like “Drink water,” “Hold your breath,” or “take an antacid” were met with derision and she began to look at us in turn, hoping for a better answer.

When her eyes met mine I decided to try scaring her hiccups away. I tilted my head a little to one side and said “Did you know you were pregnant?”

She gasped and jumped back.

Her hiccups were cured, but I was cut off. Assholes.

Apparently a compromise was finally reached a few mornings ago, since I walked in and saw this:

(click for full size)

Ever since I took this picture the animals have all been acting guilty.

Dr. Washington, What Would Minnie Think?

Characters

• Socrates, a Greek
• Dr. Ellis Washington, professor of law and political science at Savannah State University
• God, a god (mute part)
• Ghost of Stephen Douglass, a ghost (mute part)

~ Dialog ~

Socrates: Welcome, professor Washington. We are gathered here today to examine your life, and find out whether you feel remorse for what you have done.

Dr. Washington: {confident} I believe that I have done nothing to feel remorse for.

Socrates: Did you not write a dramatic dialog in which you put words into the mouth of a dead person? Words which any child knows he obviously would not have said?

Dr. Washington: Yes, I did.

Socrates: Do you feel no remorse for so cheap a rhetorical gimmick?

Dr. Washington: {remorsefully} Yes, I feel profoundly remorseful. It was the disputative equivalent of finding a picture of the man, and drawing on a Hitler mustache.

Socrates: Do you have anything to say in your defense?

Dr. Washington: {defensively} I often gratify myself sexually with a stuffed Mickey Mouse doll, to which I have attached a dildo.

God: {raises eyebrows}

Dr. Washington: Well I say a dildo, but it’s really more a kind of an arrangement of dildos. Its construction was quite involved.

Socrates: Let’s stick to the rhetorical issues. Pretty grade-school, isn’t it? Putting words into the mouths of those you disagree with and then responding?

Dr. Washington: {weeping} Oh, God! I’m sorry, so very, very sorry. Is there no redemption for me!?

God: {examines fingernails of left hand}

Socrates: Let you now submit to your judgment.

Ghost of Stephen Douglass: {teabags Washington vigorously}

Dr. Washington: It may a bit late to bring this up, but perhaps I should mention that I also gratify myself sexually by having short men put their…

Socrates: Thank you Dr. Washington, I think we’re finished.

Dr. Washington: {resignation, utter despair, profound silence, facial expression belying douchebaggishness}

FIN

One is practically driven to lament: O tempora o mores! (Oh Times, oh Daily Mirror!)

I had thought I was the last one in the office, so out of curiosity I went over to the printer to see who was printing. It turned out to not be anyone from my office at all. Instead I found that someone had decided to allow their middle-school daughter to use their laptop and VPN connection in order to finish a book report.

The report was a retrospective of how they felt Martin Luther King day has influenced them and their friends. It was actually quite an interesting read, since it included phrases such as “People are still broken into cliques and groups such as sluts, dweebs, goths, cheerleaders, bandos, wannabes, douchebags..” etc.

Well, seeing as how I was the last one in the office I grabbed a red pen and I graded the paper. I was not kind… I corrected lots of spelling/usage errors and wrote the question “Do members of these groups self-identify with the groups you placed them in?”

My fun almost complete, I tried to figure out what to do with the paper so I could teach the entire office a good lesson about letting others use their laptops. I was considering putting it on the copier glass, or perhaps hanging it on the bulletin board in the break room.

Then I read the last name of the student again. This was a high ranking person in my office, and I suddenly realized that public humiliation of this person would be very, very bad for me. So I marked the paper as a “B+” and put it in the Vice President’s mailbox. At least someone will appreciate my anonymous effort.

Imagine you’re a 15 year old boy. You’re living in the Midwest in 1991 with too much time on your hands. Good internet porn is years away, and your dogeared Penthouse magazine is getting so worn that you end up having to imagine the naughty bits.

Anyway… like others your age you also have an overactive masturbation habit. At some point you have decided that the best way to disguise this habit is by purchasing a video game console! Your logic on this decision goes like this: You dont like your parents pounding on your door telling you that you’re going to Hell. If you have a game console you figure they’ll pound on your door to tell you you’re rotting your brain instead! Much less embarrassing!

Regardless of your reasoning, you pick up a job delivering newspapers in order to save up enough money for a Super Nintendo Entertainment System. This thing is state of the fucking art man, it just came out this year!

Unfortunately the ‘real’ paper delivery jobs seem too hard and require you to get up at 5am every morning. Thankfully, salvation appears in the form of the Country Shop Weekly! Yes! This is a paper that comes out once a week and only old ladies actually look forward to getting. There is no news inside… instead it is full of auction notices, postings for semi-permanent garage sales, and the occasional coupon. Perfect!

But you soon realize the error of your ways. A paperboy only has to deliver to houses that subscribe to the paper… but the Country Shop Weekly boy has to place a copy of the paper in every single mailbox in the neighborhood. Its tedious and takes up half of a Saturday!

You are suddenly resentful about the time you are missing out on while you’re delivering all of these papers. So, as time goes one you start to deliver less and less of them. Finally, after about two months, you are only delivering to a few neighbors and a couple of cranky old ladies.

You’ve got it made. Only 10 papers to deliver and 190 to hide every weekend. Wait… 190 to hide? FUCK! OK. OK. No problem. You can deal with this. You just have to keep calm man… Right. Now, time to stash the papers.

You get rid of about 10 to 15 with every garbage bag you take out. You ‘pretend you were given too many’ and shove 20 in the trash as soon as they’re delivered. You line your sock drawer with papers. You hide them under your bed. You hide them in your closet. You get desperate and start to shove some under your mattress and behind your dresser.

Then… in the final act of laziness, you start to hide them in your father’s workshop. “He’s hardly ever in here” you think. “He’ll just think they’re old newspapers” you think. But believe it or not, your dad is smarter than that. After only a few weeks he notices the growing pile of Country Shop Weekly papers in his workshop and comes into your room to speak to you about it.

He sits on your bed and… Well. No lessons were learned. He made you quit your job, but he didn’t make you admit to fraud or give the money back. You still got your Nintendo and you still get an allowance.

In fact, your allowance money is enough to refresh your porn stash. Now, if only you can get the Senior that buys the magazines for you to stop picking up Playgirl…

On the bright side, he was set for double coupon days.

PenIsMightier is not responsible for anything that may appear. A different picture on every refresh.

Code to add this to your own site is here:
HTML Code:

<iframe src=”http://chanbox.chan4chan.com/chanbox/” width=”240″ height=”220″ frameborder=”0″ border=”0″ scrolling=”no”></iframe>

So I did a google search. My first hit was here. Yes, I’m sure its yet another “Did you just get the internet yesterday” link, but I’m posting it anyway. Basically this website tells a heartbreaking tale of how some stupid ass teenagers posted pictures of themselves beating the shit out of a cat for several minutes. It sickened me, and made me want to hurt people. But that isn’t the weird part…

Apparently 4chan.org readers jumped in as do-good internet vigilantes in this case, and got the kids arrested. The police were able to find the cat, and got it to a vet where it is being cared for and is expected to recover. Police also found video of another cat beating, and saved two more cats from the house that had signs of abuse.

Now, normally when I think ’4chan’ I think of a website that has a high ratio of misogynists, racists, and pedophiles. Venturing into the ‘adult’ boards at the wrong (or right) time requires a strong constitution and a stronger stomach. Its difficult to find positive aspects of the ‘adult’ boards beyond being a dump for webcam pictures and occasionally epic memes. In fact, while typing all of this out I not sure why I’ve been spending so much time there.

But I digress… Thank you, toilet of the internet! You’ve brought a happy ending to a heartbreaking story, complete with three kitties that will hopefully live out better lives. For more information, visit http://www.kenny-glenn.net. Make sure you check out the pictures at the end of the kenny-glenn website.

Remember: Children are evil.

I should say something there about how posting pictures of yourself doing stupid things on the internet can ruin your life, but the point I really want to make here is that children are evil.

Thank you.

So, angst aside, here is what my wife and I got each other this year:

What I got:
• Rock Band 2 for the Wii. (really, a gift for both of us)

What my wife got:
• Flowers
• Several bottles of her favorite beer.
• I didn’t take apart her Rock Band drums to see how they worked.

It beats the bad horror movies anyway.