velvetpage: (my dice)
The Campaign gets ugly- D&D Edition!

GM: OK, the bugbear attacks you. What do you do?

OBAMA: I send one of my 672 henchmen after it.

MCCAIN: OK, seriously. Why does he have so many henchmen? I'm a level 72 ranger and he's only a level 8 paladin.

OBAMA: Well, if you'd bought the Grassroots Organizing and Oratory/Colgate Smile proficiencies you could min max it so that you...

MCCAIN: Why is he even IN this campaign? I thought this was supposed to be a high level party.

OBAMA: Well, maybe some people got tired of the grim and squinty "Matterhorn, son of Marathon" shtick you keep doing. Dude, could you be any less original?

MCCAIN: Oh my god, I did not leave my left nut in a tiger cage in the Tomb of Horrors to spend my Friday nights mopping up after the new kid.

OBAMA: "My friends, I am a totally unoriginal grizzled character class stereotype. I should lead the party because I have more testicular damage than that one."

MCCAIN: Yeah, well, you pal around with dark elves.

OBAMA: OH NO YOU DIDN'T.

Read the rest. It'll have you ROFLing.
velvetpage: (ferret)
I was taking Elizabeth to her music class, and played my MP3 player in the car. One of the songs that came up was by the Arrogant Worms, a Canadian political comedy group from Alberta. The song is called "The War of 1812."

And the White House burned, burned, burned,
And we're the ones that did it,
Burned, burned, burned, as the president ran and cried.
Burned, burned, burned, and things were very historical,
And the Americans cried like a bunch of little babies wah wah wah,
In the war of 1812.

I was singing along with gusto, when I hear a little voice from the back seat.

Punch line of sorts )
velvetpage: (Chicken potholder)
This is hysterically funny. I'm picturing a sequel to the movie "Saving Grace," here.

http://news.independent.co.uk/health/article2411405.ece
velvetpage: (drama)
Judge: "Go directly to jail, do not pass go, do not collect $200."

Paris: "But I'm mentally ill!"

Sheriff: "O rly?"

Paris: "Ya rly."

Sheriff: "Go home."

Paris: "Srsly?"

Sheriff: "Srsly."

Judge: "NO U!"

Paris: "What?"

Judge: "Get back in jail woman."

Paris: "OMG mental illness!!!!1111oneone"

Judge: "STFU and GTFO my courtroom bitch!"

Paris: "This is not hot! Not hot! MOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Judge: "pwnt"

Paris: "*sob*"

Public: "Mmmm, delicious schadenfreude."
velvetpage: (Default)
I stole this from [livejournal.com profile] deliciouspear. It's specifically for my husband.

From a rec.arts.books.tolkien posting by John Osborne
velvetpage: (Default)
The service today was run by the teens and pre-teens of the church. One of them, an older boy, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, did the children's story.

He had his brother hold up an egg. "This egg is like us. We're humans, and we're sinful." The brother held up a hammer. "God says that the wages of sin is death. Death today is represented by the hammer. This is God's Hammer of Death." At this point, I'm having visions of D&D and St. Cuthbert, while most of the adults in the sanctuary are having visions of these two teens smashing an egg in the middle of church. "God's hammer is going to smash the egg," he said, and the brother raised the hammer.

Just before the brother started to swing it, the kid put a coffee can upside-down over the egg. The hammer dented it, but that was all. "Jesus is the can," he said, as the adults breathed a sigh of relief and I convulsed in silent mirth. "He protects us from God's wrath. See? The egg is perfectly safe." He lifted up the can.

The brother was just fast enough to catch the egg before it rolled off the table.

It was far and away the most effective children's story I've seen in a long time. But I'm having trouble getting the image of Jesus as a tin man, or worse, out of my head.
velvetpage: (Default)
from [livejournal.com profile] kibbles:

A priest was being honored at his retirement dinner after 25 years in the Parish. A leading Senator and member of the congregation was chosen to make the presentation and give a little speech at the dinner. He was delayed, so the priest decided to say his own few words while they waited.

"I got my first impression of the parish from the first confession I heard here. I thought I had been assigned to a terrible place. The very first person who entered my confessional told me he had stolen a television set and, when questioned by the police, was able to lie his way out of it. He had stolen money from his parents, embezzled from his employer, had and affair with his boss's wife; taken illegal drugs, and gave VD to his sister.

I was appalled. But as the days went on I knew that my people were not all like that and I had, indeed, come to a fine parish full of good and loving people.".....

Just as the priest finished his talk, the republican senator arrived full of apologies at being late. He immediately began to make the presentation and gave his talk. "I'll never forget the first day our parish priest arrived," said the politician. "In fact, I had the honor of being the first person to go to him for confession."

Moral: NEVER, NEVER, NEVER BE LATE!

June 2017

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