What does this look like to you?
Add stars, change the color, and you’re looking at a Confederate Flag. These things are flying all over Scotland—the Deep South of the United Kingdom—above whiskey drinking, tartan-pattern-clad-inbred-half-human-sheep in foggy front yards full of tractors on concrete blocks next to doorless refrigerators and weight benches outside of shacks constructed from pillaged castle stones and petrified loch-beast droppings.
Until these icons of hatred are torn down, I propose a boycott of all things Scottish. During the coming days, weeks, maybe even months or years, let us all abstain from eating haggis, wearing kilts, and pumping on our bagpipes. I don’t want to have to put myself through this, Scotland, but I will.
Until your queen issues a decree forcing the removal of these flags, Scotland is dead to America. Remember when we didn’t hesitate to call French fries “Freedom fries,” and French toast “Freedom toast?” France’s attitude got a nice little tune-up after that.
Actually, by that logic we don’t have to give up anything Scottish, just rename it. Haggis is now Patriot Guts, kilts will be known as Freedom Man-Skirts, and bagpipes will be used to play the Windsong of America!
The ball is in your court, Scotland. Don’t make us have to wear Freedom Man-Skirts. You can be the change.
As a blogger, one of your responsibilities is to occasionally comb through the comment spam queue to be sure that no insightful contributions landed there by mistake. Today, I caught this important message from someone called Aksesoris Kalung Menara Eiffel:
“Nowadays there are many crops available in the market and you should go with
high quality products. On the other hand, the hair loss could be connected to the anti-depressants you are taking.
Everybody has to massage the hair because with the help of massage the blood
in our veins of the head circulate more fast and we have good growth of the hair.”
So, Aksesoris Kalung Menara Eiffel, if you are reading this, please know that you have been removed from the spam list, and we here at The Philosophunculist are massaging our hair, feeling the blood in our veins of the head circulating more fast.
“You were gay before being gay was invented.”
—One kid to another, overheard walking by the neighborhood playground
How could that child be gay if it hadn’t been invented yet?
The only logical conclusion is that the child is Satan.
According to America’s most trusted news source, Fox News, it’s no secret that the Dark Lord invented gayness in order to slow population growth and by extension the influx of souls into hell, which was going through a housing shortage caused by imported cars, Islam, and any human that did not have milky white skin. A fifth grader knows that, and Jeff Foxworthy knows that a fifth grader knows that. Ergo, Jeff Foxworthy is as smart or smarter than a 5th grader, but are you? Tune in to Fox every Tuesday to find out.
This still doesn’t explain why that kid is Lucifer incarnate. Something I’m not sure Jeff Foxworthy knows is this: before putting the final patent stamp (which officially makes it an invention) on his concept of same-sex attraction, the Serpent King himself experimented with homosexuality in order to fine tune the subtle nuances.
In other words, he was gay before being gay was officially invented.
Just like Jeff Foxworthy was Jeff Foxworthy before Jeff Foxworthy was invented. He is in fact Jeff Foxworthy version 2.0, after the original Jeff Foxworthy prototype was destroyed by a massive explosion in the Appalachian Mountains when a redneck who didn’t know he was a redneck (because Jeff Foxworthy had not been invented and therefore neither was his guide on knowing if you are a redneck or not) lit a match near a 50 gallon drum in which he and his sistercousins had been saving their farts for the past three years.
This was one of those happy accidents though, for imagine if we had gotten that first raw, uncouth, unrefined version of Jeff Foxworthy—what would the comedic landscape look like today? Would we have Larry the Cable Guy? Would R ever git done? Would anything git done?
Jeff Foxworthy brought redneck humor (as well as all of its sub-genres, creating a seismic ripple felt everywhere in comedy) up and out of its ‘primordial ooze’ phase, tens of feet into the sky above dusty, car-part littered yards everywhere, like a bottle rocket. He’s like a comedy bottle rocket scientist.
So, uh, in conclusion, the Devil used to be gay and Jeff Foxworthy is a rocket scientist.
Here is my summer plan.
It goes like this: leave a series of small circular patches on my face unshaved. These flocculent circles will grow into long, resplendent whiskers, like those of a catfish. That’s my plan. Look like a catfish. I drafted this list of names to adopt once I look more like a catfish:
Bottom-Feeding Man Fish
Land-Walking Fish Man
Of course, the plan ran into some resistance from Cassandra Morningfart, which is the real name of the real girl I’m dating.
Here is how that was resolved.
Cassandra Morningfart: “That would look stupid. And I will not call you Catfish Jackson.”
I then grabbed her mouth and moved it around so she appeared to be talking, and said in a replica of her voice, “Yeah! Try to look like a catfish! I’m on board!”
So after that speed bump, if it can even be called that after the speed and efficiency with which it was overcome, everything is in motion. I will soon look like a catfish. I will think like a catfish. I will eat like a catfish. I will worship catfish deities. I will ‘like’ statuses that my catfish friends post on Facebook. I will attend funerals and weddings for catfish. I will read catfish literature. This blog may start to lean towards the sympathies of catfish politics and catfish-lifestyle issues (can you believe catfish have a similar Bruce Jenner type controversy going on ‘down here?’ (‘down here’ is what we in the catfish world refer to what humans know as ‘underwater’)). I have already begun lining my apartment floors with mud and decomposed plant matter. I can now hold my breath for almost 20 seconds.
The transition is in full effect, as it were.
Catfish Jackson, signing off.
P.S. I’m not officially ‘signing off,’ for I cannot officially live ‘down here,’ (underwater) because that would kill me, so I will still have full access to human internet and many other amenities while I’m ‘up there,’ until the government (rightly) begins funding human-gill growing research programs.
Hey everyone, I started a Kickstarter campaign!!
Ideally, I would love to create a website called Punchbeginner that allows users to donate money to me in order to fund my creative projects. Musicians, writers, artists, filmmakers, and entrepreneurs would also be allowed to use the website for the same purpose, but they would not get as much money as me. I would get the most money.
Once my website is up and running, and that sweet green comes rolling in, I could begin my inaugural project. It’s a performance piece, one of those ‘art-imitating-life’ things that people with glasses talk about. The asking price is about three million dollars, and the plot would center around what would happen if a 31-year-old man created a website for crowdfunding and was then able to retire from the profits. The best part is that this would be my only project, because the storyline goes on in real-time until my death, whether it comes during the wild celebration that would ensue after squeezing three million dollars out of suckers on the internet, or 100 years from now, when my third implanted monkey heart fails and I can’t find another one because humans caused monkeys to become extinct.
If this sounds like something you would like to see come to life, please donate liberally and often. No refunds, and thank you in advance for your generosity.
Topical humor time: I compiled a list of indie band names and monikers of horses that have participated in the Kentucky Derby over its 141 year run. It is up to you to guess whether each following group of words identifies a band, a horse, or a Band of Horses (that one is a band). Now, I present to you the list:
I Don’t Know If I Should Cry Or Fart
I Would Have No Problem Shooting A Kitten In The Face
Slovakian Bubble Bath
I Am A Horse That Has Raced In The Kentucky Derby
This One Is A Band Name
The Annexation Of Puerto Rico
The Courtroom Doll That Is Used As A Device For People To Point Out Where The Bad Man Touched Them
Why Is A Midget Slapping Me With A Stick
There you have it. Think you did well? Read on, and award yourself one point for each correct answer.
I Don’t Know If I Should Cry Or Fart—This one is neither a horse nor a band. My friend Ryan said it one time.
I Would Have No Problem Shooting A Kitten In The Face—Another trick question. My other friend Jeremy once said this.
Slovakian Bubble Bath—This also is not an animal or a group of humans. It is a despicable act my pal Brad made up, involving fellatio and flatulence in a tub filled with water!
I Am A Horse That Has Raced In The Kentucky Derby—The name implies this is a horse that has raced in the Kentucky Derby. In reality, it is just something I typed.
This One Is A Band Name—This one is NOT a band name. How many have you gotten right so far? I’m shooting 100 percent.
The Annexation Of Puerto Rico—This was a trick play used by football-playing children in the 1994 film Little Giants.
Sentient Toilet—Can you imagine if toilets became self-aware? Wouldn’t that be terrible? And getting back on track, also not equine or musical in nature.
The Courtroom Doll That Is Used As A Device For People To Point Out Where The Bad Man Touched Them—This is a doll that lawyers hold up to people and ask “Where did the bad man touch you? Point to the corresponding area on this doll,” not a horse or a band.
Cassandra Morningfart—This is what shows up on my cellular telephone when my girlfriend, Cassandra Morningfart, calls me.
Why Is A Midget Slapping Me With A Stick—This is something that horses in the Kentucky Derby wonder. There are also people in indie bands that ask themselves this question. Sometimes people in indie bands get slapped with sticks by midgets.
Now give yourself one point for each correct answer.
0-4 points: You don’t know shit about indie bands or the Kentucky Derby!
5-9 points: Impressive, but you are still not very good at knowing things about horses and bands.
10 points: You are me.
I didn’t use a bathroom today. Just held it all in. That’s a lot of unflushed water and unused toilet paper. At midnight, I will rush down to the creek behind my apartment and blast the built-up toxins from my body into the water. The fish will filter my waste through their gills, converting it into drinkable water, and I will clean my buttocks with a local rabbit. That rabbit will hop through the forest, pollinating flowers and trees as he or she goes along.
Soon, a small child will smell a flower that bloomed because of me, and deer miles downstream will drink from the creek and be refreshed by my body’s recycled garbage.
That’s how I contributed to The Solution.
What did you do for Mother Earth today?