10 Deadly Household Items for Kittens

Keep your playful, tiny friends safe! Watch out for the following hazards:

1. Kitten Mangler™

2. Kitten poison

3. Oven with a cat door

4. Electrified water bowl

5. Quicksand litter box

6. Paw-operated food processor 

7. Tuna flavored electrical sockets 

8. Armored vacuum cleaner 

9. Crumpled up paper with explosives in it

10. Leaving your coke out

10 Reasons Why Everyone Should Live In Philly At Least Once (but not from a Corporate Marketing Account)

This stupid BuzzFeed list is making the rounds, and I don’t think people realize or care that it’s a marketing ploy from Japanese clothing retailer Uniqlo, who are opening a Philly store in the fall. I am actually super psyched for the store, because I like their clothes and have been to their stores in NJ and NYC, but this BuzzFeed list is just bullshit “hey, we’re locals!” corporate nonsense. Following is a real, native-made list of 10 Reasons Why Everyone Should Live in Philly At Least Once.

1. Because of our suicide-themed frozen yogurt parlor. 


2. Because we have a mobile insane asylum called the night-owl bus. 


3. Because every winter, the majestic four-legged patio chair makes its migration back to our streets. 


 4. Because here, working so hard that you vomit is considered treason. 


5. Because we have a Chili’s above a strip club. Get the “free app, free clap” special. 


6. Because no one wants to jerk off alone. 


7. Because we have an old white people version of Kim Jong Il. 


8. Because we have Fairmount Park, America’s largest urban park and crust punk preserve. 


9. Because we have some of the best Italian-American food in the nation. Perhaps you’ve heard of a little place called Maggiano’s? 


10. Because even though I rag on this trash smelling city constantly, it’s actually pretty great. So come live in Philly, but before you do be sure to ask strangers on the Internet “So which neighborhoods are, you know, ‘less Canadian?’” You’re so sly. 

Tags: philly

Real women have curves, or don’t have curves, but real women have a vagina, or don’t if they were born with male genitals but now identify as female. Man this t-shirt is going to be wordy.



Up front, I’d like to say that this blog, although it may mock whiskey reviews and culture or come off as jokey, is, as Lord Byron said, for realz. I drink whiskey, I take notes, and I fucking love it.

For my first whiskey review, we’re going to take a look at a Scotch—Ledaig 10, a peated…

One time, I got into a heated argument at a party with two drunk girls who insisted that the lyric in Super Bon Bon is “let the van go through,” not “man go though.” They had been singing the song and I strongly corrected them, because like a succubus, ignorance must be fought in all its forms.

This was pre-smartphone days, so I, as the defender of truth, had to get the opinion of someone else. I asked a random guy and he said he was familiar with the song. Sadly, he agreed with the cute drunk girls rather than me, but deep down I think he knew the actual lyric.

I’m sure none of the other people involved in this story would remember it, but as I sit here listening to Super Bon Bon, in the air around my headphones I hear the wind whisper “You won, Jim. You won.”

Anyway, as you can tell, I’d be a great fit for the Microsoft Corporation. My résumé is attached, and I thank you for your consideration. I will follow up in due time.


James Grammond

Well, like the rest of you, I’ll also share my favorite memory of The Ultimate Warrior.

It was 1988. Ultimate (that’s what I called him, that Warrior shit came along later) and I were on a manhunt deep in the Amazon. Baellsto Gammora, at that time the world’s second biggest dealer of cocaine and counterfeit toilet seats, had fled after we’d raided his secret warehouse, and Ultimate and I were the only ones with enough cajones to enter the jaguar-filled jungle brush to bring the narco-creep to justice. After six days, living on rain water, hallucinogenic mushrooms, and the butchered, raw meat of monkeys we’d befriended under false pretenses, Warrior found a clue: the still warm feces of a human male. He tasted it, and instantly knew it was Gammora. Then he tasted some more, which was odd. Two hours later, Ultimate was cutting Gammora’s beating heart from his chest, devouring it to gain Gammora’s legendary sexual prowess and low cholesterol. He tossed me the aorta and said “Chew.”

Advance Review of Draft Day

Thanks to my contacts in Hollywood (Florida), I got an advanced copy of the upcoming Kevin Costner film Draft Day. Here’s a review!

Ahoy there, football-obsessed chubbos who generally neglect their families while pounding Coors Light and who are looking for a reason to drag their sad wives—wearing their best mom jeans that are one step above going out of the house in a Snuggie—out on a date night to see a movie that shares the thrills of sitting in a room with the excitement of answering phone calls. Sorry I don’t know more about the actual film, friendos; I fell asleep as soon as I hit play just from thinking about how fucking boring it was going to be. In conclusion, your kid is probably gay; deal with it.

Zero stars unless you’re an insomniac needing a cure, then it’s a solid three and a half 

Good ol’ standup shots. From a couple years ago. 

My Favorite Twitter Conversation

Autism Today is for Wimps

By Grandpa Joe

Watching the news, it seems like every kid’s got autism these days. Back in my day, if you wanted to be autistic you had to walk uphill both ways, making sure the sidewalk edges were in perfect alignment while avoiding any eye contact with other people. If it snowed, it didn’t matter; no one was just going to hand you your autism diagnosis. You earned it by getting out in that snow storm and counting as many snowflakes as you could before frostbite took your nose.

Sometimes, we were so poor we couldn’t afford new shoes to line up in order of heel height; we had to make due with what we had. And food? There are so many fat kids today being diagnosed with autism; when I was a kid, if you were autistic you couldn’t even stop arranging your food long enough to eat it. 

Then there was the war. Our autistics got out there and fought for our country. Not as soldiers, mind you. But they were cracking Jap codes and designing the first computers. They were crunching numbers in airplane factories’ logistics departments, making sure we had enough B-26’s to beat back the Huns. Today these autistics are just playing their Pokermans, trying to catch ‘em all. Catch all of what? You know who else wanted to catch ‘em all? Hitler. 

I suppose maybe I’m just ranting since I’m an old man. We’re known to do that sometimes. But when I hear that one in every 68 children now is an autistic, I have to get to scratching my head. Autism MEANT something when I was a youngster. Now, it seems like any weird kid with incontinence can have it. I miss the old days. 

10 Things You Need To Know Before Moving To The City Of K’Tthhaar

1. The Dark Sentinel will watch as you enter, and will devour your soul if the infernal tribute is not given with due haste. 

2. Housing is inexpensive as all of the walls of all dwellings are covered in the blood of traitors. 

3. Trash day is Wednesday. 

4. We are a net exporter of nightmares.

5. The Chalice of Sorrows must be filled by a representative of your family once per cycle or you will be banished to the Sorrow Regions. 

6. Our schools were recently listed as “drastically improved” by The Economist.

7. The Pit of Sulfur is hiring.

8. R’olloth, Lord of Worms and Boils, is The Night Lands longest serving politician, with more than 9 billion years of service to K’Tthhaar.

9. Our Feast of Betholochuzzahab is the largest Betholochuzzahab celebration in the universe. 

10. Our bike lane system is expected to be completed within the next year, and our public transit runs on the souls of the fallen instead of fossil fuels.

The GOP is really not great at targeting younger voters. 

The GOP is really not great at targeting younger voters.