Truther vs. Al Qaeda

Awesome.

9/11 Conspiracy Theories ‘Ridiculous,’ Al Qaeda Says
(hat tip Hot Air)

A Story, Bit by Bit
Hellbender: Chapter 12 – Recovery

PREVIOUS
As they stumbled back towards their apartment, the sparse streetlights of Theed didn’t allow Doug to see too clearly the battered conditions of his friends. A couple of times he tried to help Charlene when she stumbled, but she quickly shrugged him off. So onward they went, walking beside each other but not with each other, none saying a word until Doug felt he absolutely had to say something to break the silence. “Did you see how I got the sword on that one guy before he drew his gun? That was pretty good.”
“Yes, Doug. That was a brilliant display of basic competency.” Charlene didn’t even look at him. He thought she could be a little nicer since he did draw the sword to keep the guy from shooting her.
“I think that’s where things started to go wrong,” Bryce said.
Charlene stopped. “Are actually going to argue this wasn’t entirely the fault of your idiocy?”
“Hey, I wasn’t the one with the brilliant idea that, when I’m surrounded by a bunch of armed thugs, I should punch one of them in the nose!”
“She was a clearly useless person, and I have a least enough self-respect not take insults from such!” Charlene shouted. “You really think being a meek beggar was the way to get respect from that scum?”
“Why don’t we just compromise and say you both were idiots,” Lulu suggested.
Charlene looked about ready to hit her. “Why did you draw bunnies on it Lulu?!”
Lulu rolled her eyes. “Oh right; that was the problem.”
“It didn’t help.” Bryce added.
Doug didn’t like seeing his friends fight, but at least none of them were blaming him for anything. “I think I see a bus station just a little ways away. Do we still have enough money to take the bus?”
“We’re not so financially desperate we can’t ride the bus.” Bryce marched onwards and the other followed. He took a glance at Doug. “How come you look better than the rest of us?”
“I’ve gotten beaten up so many times, I guess I just know how best to take it.”
“Well, that’s a sad good analogy for us,” Charlene said. “We’ve gotten beaten up so many times, it’s become a skill.”
“And I notice you look worse than the rest of us,” Bryce commented. “I’m guessing you thought it was a bright idea to fight back.”
Lulu glanced at him. “How much product do you use in your hair?”
Though Bryce’s face was quite beaten, he didn’t seem to have one hair out of place. Lulu’s hair was quite a mess, though. “Appearances are important, so I spend time on mine.” He checked his clothing. “I’m going to need a new suit again.”
“Frankly, the whole beating was a bit disorganized.” Lulu wrapped her arms around her chest. “Also, I’m all for equal rights stuff, but I still think it would have been more polite to have the women beat up the women and the men beat up the men. The order was to beat me, not to grope me.”
“Those two women who felt slighted by the fact that I gave each of them my time were a bit immature during their physical attack on me,” Bryce said. “They especially got angry when they found out I was wearing a cup.”
“Why were you wearing a cup?” Lulu asked.
“Because I don’t like getting hit in the crotch.”
“Because he probably knew what happened was a possibility from all his screwing around,” Charlene said.
Lulu giggled. “His screwing screwed us.”
Doug laughed. “It is kinda funny how Bryce thought he was using Lara but she was using him.”
“That’s not what happened!” Bryce shouted.
“None of this is funny!” Charlene yelled. “Bryce’s idiocy has left us in a foreign city with no money!”
“Some money,” Bryce corrected her. “A little money.”
Doug patted the sack hanging off his belt. “And we still got the cube.”
They reached the bus station. According to a sign on it, they had twenty minutes to the next bus.
“I thought for sure Colette could have told that the cube was important,” Bryce said. “We’re all in agreement that there is something quite weird about it.”
It still creeped Doug out, even concealed in its bag. “The Devil told me that one of Hallowed wouldn’t feel anything weird holding it, because they always feel that miserable.”
Bryce looked angry. “That’s some important information you kept from us. If Satan tells you anything useful like that in the future, pass it on.”
“He said his name is Stan, actually,” Doug said.
“Did Stan mention anyone else we could maybe pawn it off to for a few bucks?” Lulu asked.
“Shut up, please!” Charlene looked like she was about to cry. “You thought being unappreciated servants of the government was awful, but I don’t think being insulted and humiliated by criminals is quite an improvement in our lives. I’m not going anywhere else with that stupid cube and beg for money. If we’re going to be criminals ourselves, let’s at least be good ones! Lulu was right; you could tell from how Colette’s men attacked us that they don’t work well as a team. With a little bit of planning — real planning — we could do quite some damage to those people and that arrogant bitch Colette.”
Bryce looked quite hesitant. “There’s no money in revenge. You attach a business plan to that, then maybe.”
“I like Charlene’s idea,” Lulu said. “I say we go back there, cut Colette’s head off, and write on the walls in her blood, ‘This is what you get for being mean.'”
“She doesn’t have any blood. She’s one of the Hollow ones.” Bryce chuckled. “In fact, you could say she quite literally a heartless bitch.”
“No. She’s not literally a heartless bitch,” Lulu corrected. “Because she’s not literally a female dog.”
“She is literally a spiteful and overbearing woman,” Bryce countered, “which is an accepted definition for ‘bitch.'”
“Actually, as she’ll tell you herself, she’s not literally a woman.”
“If you two don’t shut up,” Charlene shouted. “I will literally rip your heads off and shove them up your asses.”
Lulu whispered to Bryce. “Charlene properly use the word ‘literally,’ though she did so for the purpose of hyperbole.”
Charlene smacked Lulu. “Anyway, if there are no objections — and even if there are — I’m taking over Hellbender. If we’re going to be a group of losers, let’s at least be dangerous ones.”
“I really don’t want to kill a bunch of people if that’s the plan,” Doug stated.
“As usual, Doug, your opinion doesn’t matter,” Charlene said.
“Fine.” He noticed a convenience store nearby. “I’ll be back in a sec; I need to pee.”
“Careful not to fall in,” Lulu called out as he walked away. She turned to the others. “Do I have a black eye?”
“You have two,” Charlene replied.
“Dammit.”
When Doug entered the store, he turned to the clerk to ask him if he could use the restroom, but saw it was some sort of electronic entity. Another job stealing robot. Doug weaved by a couple patrons to the back where the men’s room was. It was decently clean, and Doug had to admit that some robots were pretty good at their jobs. Frankly, he liked them better than monkeys.
Doug went to a urinal, but as he unzipped he heard others enter. He turned to see three women. For a moment, he though he might have accidentally entered the wrong restroom, but he realized he was at a urinal which he was quite sure women’s rooms didn’t have. The three women stood behind Doug, and he kept looking back at them. “Uh… I think you’re in the wrong restroom. Don’t feel bad; it’s happened to me before.”
They continued to stand there and stare at him.
“Also, it’s kinda hard for me to go with you guys standing there like that.”
Once again, they didn’t react.
“Um… I think I’ll use a stall.” Doug zipped up and started to walk away, but one of the women grabbed him by the shoulder.
“We want the bunny cube.”
Frankly, a part of Doug really wanted to get rid of the cube. Still, it was about all he and his friends had left, and he was curious to find out its secrets.
Doug turned to face them. “Well, you can’t have it.”


“You probably can’t tell from looking at me, but I got beat up again.”
Doug stumbled back to his three friends at the bus station. Bryce looked him over with a little concern. “We were wondering what took you so long… the bunny cube!”
“Yeah; they took it,” Doug admitted. “I think they were more of those Amazons. I tried to stop them, though.”
“Did you try drawing you sword and killing them?” Charlene asked.
Doug frowned. “That seems a bit extreme.”
“You should feel lucky those psychos didn’t slit your throat, then.”
“Where did they go?” Bryce asked.
“Who cares?” Charlene said. “If Elza’s stupid minions want it, I say let them have it. No more trying to get money in realms we hardly understand.”
“Still, at least this proves it was worth something.” Bryce straightened his ripped tie. “Just like I said.”
Lulu shrugged. “I just hope they appreciate the bunnies.”
NEXT

Can’t Shake the Devil’s Hand and Say You’re Only Kidding

Obama’s new theme song:

From The Conservative Intelligencer.
Being a They Might be Giants fan, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this song myself as soon as the Wright scandal popped up.

IMAO Is Legend!

An urban one.
Apparently, the photoshop from this post is getting passed around as if its real. Now, I came up with the idea for the post as a quick dumb gag and found this photo to work with. Moving the cord seemed like a hard job, so I passed it on to My Photoshop Guy, suggesting maybe he crop the image to make it easier. Ends up he did a great job, with the cord looking just a little bit jagged where it was altered. My Photoshop Guy then decided to add in a clock to further set up the joke. The clock is the part that is most obviously photoshopped, but that was okay to me as it’s just supposed to be a visual gag — real enough at first glance to convey the joke but doesn’t need to hold up to further inspection.
Later, My Photoshop Guy said, if he knew that people weren’t going to see through the edits on the cord, he would have spent more time on the clock — but that’s not the goal here. So, for the record, IMAO is here to make you laugh; not to trick you.

Earth Hour – The Tagline

Apparently Earth Hour was a rousing success, in the sense that cities in civilized nations around the globe voluntarily plunged themselves into darkness, temporarily undoing 50,000 years of human civilization in the process.
A proud moment, to be sure.
The only thing that troubles me is that the words “Earth Hour” weren’t followed by a snappy, earworming, little catchphrase – a big no-no in the modern world of internet viral marketing. As a public service, I toss out the following possibilities so that next year’s event can be even more popular:



* 60 minutes of stupid.
* You’re evil if you don’t.
* Brought to you by the Prince of Darkness.
* Hippies aren’t ugly if you can’t see them.
* [Thunk!] OW! My head!
* As prophesied in Atlas Shrugged.
* A great excuse for having sex, plus 58 bonus minutes!
* This was going to happen in California, anyway.
* At least now you know who to boycott.
* Eventually it won’t be voluntary. Or temporary.


Yours in the comments, please.

In My World: Attack on Barrack

“I bring you a message of hope and change,” Barack Obama told the fawning crowd. “Of not only change that brings hope… but also of hope that brings change. This is a message that people respond to. It is also not the message of my Democratic opponent Hillary Clinton. That’s why I am leading in delegates, and why she… AIEEE!”

“It will be a honkey massacre! That’s in the Bible!”

A large object flew at Obama and struck him in the face. The Secret Service quickly surrounded him. Gun drawn, one looked over the crowd shouting, “Who threw that lamp? WHO THREW THAT LAMP?!”


“We interrupt Dancing with the Stars for the special news bulletin: Senator Barack Obama, while speaking at an even in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, was struck by a lamp. It is currently unknown who threw the lamp and whether it was thrown out of racial hatred or for political reasons. We have been unable to get a comment from Senator Obama as he is reportedly locked in his hotel room sobbing uncontrollably. His wife, Michelle Obama, quickly responded, though.
On screen was Michelle Obama at a podium. “While we are saddened that my husband was struck by a lamp, we are not surprised. As a black man, Barack could have a lamp thrown at him just for going to the gas station — nonetheless running for president. This is just another reason I hate this country. I repeat: I really really hate this country and everything about it.”
The news anchor came back on screen. “Originally, Michelle was a suspect for the lamp throwing as its just assumed from her personality that she at least constantly browbeats her husband, but she was in Canada at the time of the incident because she was reportedly so sick of this country that she just had to get out of it for a while.
“Senator Obama’s pastor and spiritual mentor, Jeremiah Wright, had some words to say about the incident.”
On screen was Wright at the pulpit. “First, the white people in the government made HIV to kill the black man. When that didn’t work, now they’ve moved up to throwing lamps. They’ll do anything to stop Barack Obama, because they know that the first thing he’ll do when he’s president is kill all the honkeys! That’s right; he’ll use the secret government labs to make a virus to kill them! It will be a honkey massacre! That’s in the Bible!” He held up a well-worn copy of Hop on Pop. “Right in here… somewhere near the middle, I think.”
The news anchor came back on screen. “The next suspect of the lamp throwing is, of course, John McCain. As we in the media have remembered that he’s a Republican, we’ve also remembered that he’s therefore evil. We had a reporter sit down and ask him about the incident.”
On screen was McCain sitting uncomfortably. “Since you claim to be a conservative,” an off-screen reporter said, “you must also claim to hate black people. Do you feel any remorse for throwing a lamp at Obama because he’s black?”
“As I’ve told you a thousand times,” McCain snarled, “I don’t hate black people; I hate gooks! They tortured me in Vietnam! I’m tired of explaining this! If I could raise my hands high enough, I’d box your ears! Know why I can’t?”
“Because you’re lazy?”
“Because of the injuries the gooks gave me in ‘Nam! That’s it; lower your head so I can box your ears!”
The news anchor came back on screen. “The final suspect for the incident is Senator Hillary Clinton, often rumored to have thrown lamps out of anger when previously in the White House as first lady. Her campaign released this statement in response to these charges:

“The idea that Hillary Clinton throws lamps in irrational fits of rage is a rumor spread by sexist, misogynist individuals. Anyone could have thrown a lamp at Senator Obama, and the fact that Senator Hillary Clinton was seen in the are holding a lamp for some reason while looking extremely enraged proves nothing. The fact that Senator Obama has made such an ordeal out of a simple lamp throwing when Senator Clinton wasn’t even fazed by imagined snipe fire once again shows the difference in experience between the two candidates. Also, if Senator Obama doesn’t wants lamps thrown at him in the future, maybe he shouldn’t be such an annoying little upstart who gets in the way of a political future destined by fate that no one, and I MEAN NO ONE, can stop me from achieving! You hear that, bitch!”

If We Had Oil

If this is true, then we have all the oil we need and it’s like “so long and thanks for all the fish” to the Middle East. “Hope you guys figure out that Sunni/Shiite thing… and try to get along with the Jews.” We’ll finally be able to tell all the Saudi royalty that they smell like gym socks and are creepy weirdos. Plus, we can be even bigger dicks to other countries now… and they’ll have to suck up to us because we have oil.
In other words, the world will be as it should be.

I Should Have Stolen This Idea Before He Thought of It

Mike Nelson of MST3K fame (man, I miss that show) takes on political ads.

“And Then I Kicked Him the Teeth”

A WWII vet wasn’t about to be intimidated by a teen with a knife. They don’t make ’em like that anymore.

Republicans Ponder Deadlocked Convention

WASHINGTON (AP) – The Republican presidential race is so unsettled that some party officials are openly talking of a scenario that seemed almost unthinkable until now: the first contested GOP convention in 60 years.
Even if Republicans choose a nominee before they convene in Minneapolis-St. Paul on Sept. 1, there’s a good possibility he will emerge weeks or even months after the Democratic nominee is chosen, giving Democrats an advantage in fundraising, organizing and campaigning. Congressional Republicans particularly wanted an early nominee to draw voters’ attention from President Bush, whose low approval ratings could hurt the entire party in the fall.
Bush’s former top political aide, Karl Rove, told Republican officials Wednesday that major challenges await “the moment our candidate secures the nomination.” As if they needed reminding, Rove told those at the Republican National Committee’s winter meeting, “the primaries are far from over.”

Nope, it’s not newsish fakery. This is the start of a real AP news story that hit the streets on January 17th, 2008. As seen under the blinding light of hindsight, it’s delightfully entertaining.

Earth Hour!

[a guest post from IMAO reader Jimmy]
Everyone is supposed to save the planet by turning out their lights for one hour at 8 p.m. tonight. The movement is worldwide.
Apparently, these people have saved the planet permanently:
KoreasAtNight.jpg
Koreas at night
Crap.
I’m turning all of mine ON in celebration of 500 years of science and engineering and people like Faraday, Ohm, Maxwell, Einstein, Tesla….
Cheers,
Jimmy

A Story, Bit by Bit
Hellbender: Chapter 11 – Trash

PREVIOUS
Bryce quickly recovered, his shocked expression quickly becoming one of simple confusion. “Excuse me?”
“Armin Corbert.” Colette was quite visibly enjoying Bryce’s discomfort. “That was the name assigned to you as a nameless war orphan, wasn’t it?”
Bryce laughed nervously. “That’s my slave name; I go by Bryce Worthington.”
“I don’t care what you call yourself.” Lara walked over and handed a handheld computer to Colette who took a look at. Now a couple dozen of Colette’s thug were standing around to watch the spectacle. “We’re very much an international organization, so I was able to access the files on you four from Asmod’s government. You were raised at the same orphanage, and the fact that you’re all still together is both touching and pathetic.” She paused a moment to read some more. “I see you change jobs quite a lot, Armin. I’m guessing that was some sort of scam where you avoided doing actual work. Now, Doug Na’s work history seems more consistent with the typical worthless Child.”
“That’s not actually my last name; it’s more of a typo,” Doug said. “They somehow messed up and didn’t give me a last name as a kid, and then once I had to fill in a form and they told me to put “N/A” for my last name, but I though they were telling me how to spell my new last name–”
“Thanks. I’ll wait for the official autobiography. I think I understand quite well now why you were given an IQ test three different times to look for mental retardation.”
“They were all negative!” Doug asserted. “It says that there, right?”
“Next we have the ridiculously named Lulu Lui,” Colette continued. “Whose only value is plain for anyone to see.”
“I kinda like my name,” Lulu said. “Lui is more of a Chinese name, though, and I’m pretty sure I have Japanese ancestry.”
“Finally, there is Charlene Marshall.” Colette took a look at her and laughed. “The little warrior, and perhaps the most pathetic of you four in that her record shows that she actually tried to be a member of useful society. How did that work out, girl?”
Charlene looked enraged. “We get it. We’re the Last Children; completely worthless and not worth the time of someone as exalted as yourself. Still, we brought you useful weaponry, so why don’t you just give us what it’s worth and we’ll be on our way, never to offend your sight again.”
In the blink of an eye, Colette was on Charlene and holding her up by her neck. “Hey!” Doug shouted as he tried to draw his sword on her, but Colette swung out her arm. It felt to Doug like he was struck by a bat, and fell hard against the floor.
Colette threw Charlene into some crates. “Don’t tell me what I should do.”
Lulu helped Charlene back to her feet while Doug got himself standing again. Bryce still looked like nothing had happened. “Obviously, we’ve offended you, and for that I apologize, but–”
“But I don’t think you quite understand,” Colette interrupted. “Taroth allows Dammon to keep a base in this city so long as we keep things quiet. For that, I can’t just have any Child wandering in here thinking he can play big shot gangster. You four haven’t even followed the most basic channels for this line of work.”
“Oh, we have our registration form.” Lulu pulled out a piece of paper.
“I prefer if you submit electronically.” She looked back to Bryce. “So the question is how this Child found out enough about our organization to even attempt this. So, I ask my female employees which one of you was dumb enough to sleep with this idiot? Don’t think I won’t find out on my own, and you can guess what will happen to you then.”
Grudgingly, two women raised their hands — neither of whom were Lara. They first looked at each other with shock and then at Bryce with anger. “You weasel!” Lara just stood back laughing.
Now Bryce was sweating a bit. “I do have an explanation–”
“Here’s the deal,” Colette interrupted. “It’s actually kinda impressive that you stole that weaponry, and it is of value to me. Why don’t I take it as payment for letting you live, and if I have any jobs in the future that are best suited to desperate losers — and that happens from time to time — I’ll look you four up. Deal?”
“How about you let us live plus five thousand,” Lulu countered.
“Three thousand, but I kill you and donate it to a charity in your name.”
Lulu looked confused. “Charity?”
Colette sighed. “Money people give to help poor people. It’s something from before your time.”
“Isn’t the government supposed to handle that?” Bryce asked.
“Just never mind.”
“I know,” Lulu said, “how about four thousand, and you only kill one of us.”
Colette frowned. “I’m no longer amused by you four. Get out.”
“Wait. We have something else that might be of value.” Bryce motioned to Doug. Doug took the cube out of its sack, and he held it out as steadily as he could though touching it made him feel cold and miserable.
Colette was unimpressed. “And what is that supposed to be?”
“It’s what Asmod was trying to hide. It’s what Serpine sent Loch to retrieve. It’s what Elza’s minions were going to steal until we got it first.” Bryce paused dramatically. “And now, we offer it to you.”
Colette now looked somewhat intrigued. She snatched it from Doug’s hand and looked it over. “Why does it have drawings of rabbits scratched into its side?”
Bryce gave a very quick angry glance to Lulu and then looked back at Colette. “We’re not quite sure of the purpose of its symbols, but I bet you can sense what a powerful artifact it is.”
“It’s a metal cube with poorly drawn bunnies on it.” She tossed it to Bryce who fumbled with it like a hot potato until he passed it on to Doug who quickly put it back in its sack.
“Maybe you should ask Dammon about it,” Bryce suggested. “I’m sure he’ll know of its significance.”
“Yes, that sounds exactly like the sort of thing I should bother an all-powerful being about. Well, if I find myself in need of a bunny cube, I’ll know where to find you.”
Lulu whispered to Charlene. “I told you that’s what it’s called.”
“You’ve now wasted more of my time than that stolen military equipment bought you,” Colette told them. She turned to her people. “Before you send them on their way, beat the crap out of them.”
NEXT

Frank Advice on Ending the Democratic Primary

The Dems are a bit pathetic lately, so I thought I should give them some help as someone has to challenge McCain to keep him from lazily sliding leftwards. Obviously, they need a way to pick their candidate that satisfies both sides. With the Hillary and Obama so close in delegates, the simple election solutions are going to leave a large number of Democrats feeling cheated. And, frankly, they love feeling cheated and complaining about the fact. So, more extraordinary measures are needed.
Now, the most obvious solution is putting them in some sort of cage with weaponry where only one leaves. I don’t think this will work for the Democrats, though, because they won’t think Obama with his saccharine message of hopey change can stand up to the vicious Hillary who has long thirsted for his blood. Instead, they need to compete on a plane Democrats are more familiar with.
How about they are each given a billion dollars in tax money, and whoever spends it all the first wins. They can’t just spend it on military weaponry (and, being Democrats, they wouldn’t want to), and instead have to spend it all on wasteful, counterproductive social programs. That would prove which one of them is the most hardcore Democrat.
Another idea is a competition for sympathy by them having to convince a TV audience which one of them is the most victimized by society. A call in vote will determine once and for all who has it rougher — women or minorities — and Ryan Seacrest will announce the winner… after the break.
Also, they could get a group of foreigners and Obama and Hillary could compete on who could befriend the most. Having foreigners like us is of the utmost concern to Democrats.
If none of that is satisfactory, Democratic leaders can take advantage of the fact that many Democrats, being anti-religious, believe about any supernatural crap. The heads of the Democrats can say they are going to go to a secret seance room where they will summon all the great Democrats throughout America history and have them consult and decide on who should be the nominee. Then they can just head to where the coffee machine is and flip a coin… or just decide to nominate Hillary so she’ll release their families. Whatevs.

USA Today Readers Shall Be the Fools This April

Sorry to be a bit neglectful to the blog this week, but an opportunity came up that I wanted to devote my full creative energies to. Anyway, you should look for a column co-authored by me in the April 1st edition (that’s Tuesday) of USA Today… unless this was all some cruel April Fools joke on me. If so, then well played, Jonah Goldberg. Well played.

What’s a Super Delegate?

When discussing the Democratic primaries, it’s obvious that a lot of people are still confused about the candidate selection process. Lately I’ve been getting a ton of e-mail (and by “a ton of”, I mean “not a single frickin'”) asking me what the hell a “super delegate” is.
Naturally, I’d love to answer these queries, but there’s a problem. You see, as a team blog, IMAO succeeds by carving out territories and keeping each writer within their own boundaries. We each have our own little genres that we write in, and we don’t cross those lines. That’s why Frank doesn’t post “lolterizt!“, and I don’t post every single stupid stray thought that pops into my head.
Trouble is, “Frequently Asked Questions” is a Frank J. thing, and if I tried to do one of those, Frank would cut my ear off with his katana, just like he did to Rowdi after she tried to post a “Know Thy Enemy” last week.
So although I can’t do an actual FAQ and tell you what a super delegate is, I can at least explain what a super delegate isn’t, because that ton [see above] of emails I’ve been getting invariably start with:

“Dear Frank
Everyone keeps saying super delegates are going to end up selecting the Democratic presidential nominee. I don’t get it. I thought a super delegate was…”

Here are some of the most common misconceptions, and my explanations for those poor bewildered souls who sent them:


Sorry, Obama… NOT a super delegate.

…that one movie that I mistakenly rented because I thought it was Michael Moore’s biograpy?
No, that was “Super Size Me“. And it sorta is.
…what people yelled at the movie screen after Brad takes his glasses off in The Rocky Horror Picture Show?
No, that’s “Super Asshole!”. Be warned: cult movies are still a cult. Get thee to a deprogrammer.
…when you find yourself naked in bed with Tyra Banks and Paris Hilton?
No, that’s a “Supermodel Sandwich”, although rumor has it that both Clinton and Obama think about these a lot, too.
…that thing that made me laugh harder than I ever have before in my life?
No, that was “Superbowl XLII”, and more specifically the look on Tom Brady’s face at the end of it.
…Soundgarden’s best album?
No, that was “Superunknown”. Except that I’m sure you meant “Down on the Upside”, you tonedeaf moron.
…Joe Pesci’s “Star Wars Holiday Special”?
No, that was “The Super“, and unlike Mark Hamill, it didn’t put a bullet in the head of his acting career.
…the worst video game ever created by the hand of man?
No, that was Super Mario Brothers.
…proof that we didn’t drop NEARLY enough nukes on Japan?
Also Super Mario Brothers.
…the horrible, horrible thing that made me vow to never read IMAO again… except for right now so that I could find your e-mail address?
No, that was Superego. [You mean Simpsons Trivia – Frank J.]
…that one thing that got Monica Lewinsky’s dress all wet?
No, that was a Super Soaker. Just a reminder – squirt gun accidents are a preventable tragedy. Always use a trigger lock.
…that guy who’s faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound?
No, that was Fred Thompson. And you people had your chance but you blew it.


Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a pair of katana-proof earmuffs.