I can only delete 100 spam comments at a time? Oh dear, looks like I'm gonna have to book a decade off work...
Fetch the extra large bag of Monster Munch!
Thursday, 2 July 2015
Minister for Tabernakian Pyramid Schemes Sir Humphrey Loughton-Bailiwick, announced plans today for an International Croissant Consortium to be established for the preservation of baffling Newtonian groupers. Administrators and bureaucrats hastened to attach themselves to this whopper boondoggle, this exercise in jiggery-pokery, this affront to Nature herself, like lampreys to sharks, like lemons to sharts. Combined, once again, with hoisin sauce, a poultice was made from bedsheets and applied physically to Msr. Flute Charpentier.
Having been to seminary, the Earl new better faster than old less good, and thus his legacy was born. During his semi-cloistered life, many things were taught to him that were denied others. Ancient occult knowledge passed down from knee-jerk to palindrome, as wolves descend from the knee hills to work their murder on jack-booted nutria ranchers.
Lorenz was late this morning because gear wheels hit the bent steamer at 78 mph. To their credit, soldiers and bookies gathered at the docks, handing out posters of David Lee Roth, solar powered muskrats, inflatable Nazi paraphenalia and swamp gas sightings. Dougie had to go into town to get more litmus paper. Urged to float a loan for water sheds, the new VP for Skulking Anthony Plumbob "borrowed" from the pension fund and sat on a vibrating stump for three weeks.
In other News, plastic is the new black. Genies are flying out of Donald Trump's ass. Ax wielding mimes restormed the Bastille in an effort to push through national funding for giant iguana breeding. Invisible Corsicans have secured the right to be insane during business hours. Rain gear has been outlawed in 66 members nations of the UN today in what's been perceived to be a move on coffee futures.
Saturday, 16 May 2015
Binging on Red Lobster the night before had a deleterious effect on his plans to contract ADHD. Buckets of yoz.
Smell the torts! Sniff them well! For they may whiff of toothpaste laden with antifreeze.
Sylvia joined the Army, just like those assholes at her high school said she would. Languages were her gateway to bigger, better things. Farsi, Mandarin, Finnish, Mandinko... the list went on to the wee wee hours, when she had to pee a lot.
Often elephants would grow an extra set of tusks, just to show how badassed they are. Once more, into the breach!
If you had iguana lips, your mom would still love you.
Wednesday, 1 April 2015
It is with a heavy heart that I must announce the closure of Illogicopedia. As you may be aware, our hosting is funded from donations, some of which came from Russia and due to recent upheavals in the global economy, that funding source has been cut off. Apparently the funds had been transferred through a Ukranian bank which has since been seized by the Putin regime. Anyway, it's too late to fix it at this point. We have already gone so long without paying that Roberto, our hosting provider, has stated that he will be unplugging the servers and deleting all our content sometime tomorrow even if we were to pay our bills. Looking forward, discussions among the Illogicopedia community have yielded mixed results. A consensus seems to have emerged that the decline in participation in recent months and years was due to burnout on the concept of illogical silly content, and that the community should probably switch gears to actually help with bringing the world useful information instead. To this end, plans have been set in motion to launch a new site called Logicopedia. Registration for this exciting new opportunity will begin soon. Stay subscribed to the IllogiBlog for further updates! -- Nerd42
Monday, 2 June 2014
The Tao Te π"The π which cannot be expressed as a ratio of integers is not the π."
In the act of creation, boom! down goes the server. Just because everybody loves π, π don't necessarily love you.
Therefore, the hypotamoose.
There are always consequences
Like a tea party in a bounce house, Illogicopedia bumbles along, mired in the non-noteworthy, passing lumpy space bits off as Farsi speakers propel their smell into hell. Then this happens. I didn't want to say anything, but the mother spit profusely when she talked. Annoying.
If Lumpy Jake turns
Don't kill him. He's not the Buddha, after all. Nor is he on the road. Worst case, he's a were-turnip. Just ignore him and hope he won't kill you.
It's all about ratios. Or did I misspell rations? Either way, you get what you're issued, and you have to compare it to something. That's how you get the ratio. Or ration.
Once you have the ratio, ask yourself, "Is this circular logic?". If so, unroll it until you see π.
Monday, 14 April 2014
I watched a documentary about Mel Gibson this morning. Pitiable wretch. Still, he's rich beyond our dreams, most of us.
I'd like to see him do commercials for reverse mortgages or antipsychotic medications. You don't have to be German to be insane. Mental disorder is no stranger to any race, color or persuasions.
They've been watching again. Looking out the windows surreptitiously this morning, I saw them again. They've gotten to the dog. She doesn't bark when they come around any more. I've been eating more garlic bread.
Thursday, 23 January 2014
It has been determined by the ruling cabal that the crux of the biscuit is the apostrophe. It's not an original thought, but the truth is impossible to ignore. For the first time, biscuit appropriations were sourced to an international committee. Phrased another way, the crux was committed, straight jacket and all. The 911 call that initiated the decruxing was traced to an albino Elvis impersonator who eats Teflon.
The momentum pulled along a variegated melange of role playing games, rhapsodic headbangers, beetles, aquatic mammals, hyenas, faux lesbians and their Republican entourages, rocky road ice cream, polecats and medical supplies.
Ugh. Yet another list. It certainly can get tiresome, as lists accumulate into grommet piles like scum from the underside of inner city sewer grates. As we spin and revolve around Sol, undetected alien presences insinuate themselves into our societies. Their reptilian stamps are on nannies and political consultants alike.
So, our advice to you is to investigate these conspiracies for yourselves, and write articles related to your experiences for submission to Illogicopedia. The act can be liberating, and will certainly lead to mental aberrations.
Lather, rinse, repeat. Repeat.