Thursday, November 30, 2006

My Ode to People, Including You...

That's right, baby. My ode to you, the average person on the street. Here's to ya, in the pop art style of Andy Warhol.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

The Updated Smart Centipede English Dictionary

Befrigged (bee•FRIGD) ADJECTIVE 1. the state of being frigged; Her father didn't care if she ever got off this befrigged island.

Bitchery (BI•chuh•ree) NOUN 1. the act of aggregious complaining for extended periods; I've had it with her endless bitchery.

Blb blub blu blub blu (BLB•blub•blu•blub•blu) INTERJECTION 1. that cheek flab ruffling that Lewis Black does when he's on a roll. "Sentence: "Tom Ridge has the leadership qualities of -Blb blub blu blub blu- a gerbil."

Bunth (buhnth) - NOUN 1. an object or situation that is created out of or used to spite. Sentence: "Tired of hearing that "month" was the only word in the English Language that had no rhyme, Kenn Beck coined the term bunth." pl. -s

Dipstick (DIP•stik) - ADJECTIVE 1. A type of lesbian that is the polar opposite of a lipstick lesbian, i.e. one who specializes in manly activities. Sentence: "Not only did she change the oil in her car... but she also douched with it. She's more dipstick than lipstick." pl. -s

Scyme (skime) - NOUN 1. a thick scum that accumulates on the body during any kind of physical activity involving sweat or bodily fluids and dust or other airborne particles. Sentence: "I have to get home and shower this scyme off my body."

Zjuqix (ZYOO•kiks) - NOUN 1. an object created solely to benefit its creator. Sentence: "Zjuqix is worth 38 points in Scrabble." pl. Zjuqixii

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Hold on a fucking minute...

Uranus' moons are named after characters in classic literature, with all but three of them being characters from Shakespeare's mind.

(beginning twith the closest moon to Uranus' surface)

Cordelia - In Shakespeare's play King Lear Cordelia was a daughter of King Lear.
Ophelia - Ophelia was named after the daughter of Polonius in Shakespeare's Hamlet.
Bianca - Bianca was named after the sister of Katherine in Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew.
Cressida - Cressida is the daughter of Calchas in Shakespeare's play Troilus and Cressida.
Desdemona - Desdemona is the wife of Othello in Shakespeare's Othello.
Juliet - Juliet was named after the young girl in Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet.
Portia - Portia was a rich woman in Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice.
Rosalind - Rosalind is a daughter of the banished Duke in Shakespeare's As You Like It.
Belinda - Belinda is named after the heroine in Alexander Pope's The Rape of the Lock.
Puck - Puck is a fairy in Shakespeare's Midsummer-Night's Dream.
Miranda - Miranda was named after a daughter of the magician Prospero in Shakespeare's The Tempest.
Ariel - Ariel was a spirit in Shakespeare's The Tempest.
Umbriel - Umbriel is a character in Alexander Pope's The Rape of the Lock.
Titania - Titania is the Queen of the Fairies in Shakespeare's Midsummer-Night's Dream.
Oberon - Oberon the husband to Titania and the King of the Fairies in Shakespeare's Midsummer-Night's Dream.
Caliban - Caliban was a deformed son of a witch in Shakespeare's The Tempest.
Stephano - Stephano was the drunken butler in Shakespeare's The Tempest.
Sycorax - Sycorax was the witch who enslaved spirits in Shakespeare's The Tempest.
Prospero - Prospero was the protagonist magician of Shakespeare's The Tempest.
Setebos - The God that Caliban was taught to worship in Shakespeare's The Tempest.

But wait... somewhere between Rosalind and Belinda in 1986U10. 1986U10? What was that, MacDuff's license plate number in MacBeth? Isn't that that Van Halen Album? What the Hoary Hell is that all about? Apparently Shakespeare didn't write anything else that they could have culled a character or two from.

I'm going to call it a night and settle down to read THX1138 and Juliet.

Peace, gentle readers!

I'll take obscure diseases for $400, Alex...

What the Hell is PARVO and how did I get it? Is it something I ate? Is it airborne? Was I bitten by a tick? Did a gypsy cast her evil eye at me? Did Scientologists get to my breakfast cereal?

I'm told that my recent fatigue and joint pain are the result of my having contracted the Parvo Virus. There is no cure, and the virus must run it's course, which can take anywhere from a few days to 6 months. In the meantime, I can look forward to excruciating pain, exhaustion, and murderous rage. Well, that last part is a pre-existing, ongoing condition.

I did manage to recover much of the content of the original Smart Centipede blog from I(SUCKDONKEYCOCK), so look forward to "Best of" posts as I struggle to reprint my best...

Once I get better, that is.

Monday, November 27, 2006

Fun and Games the Fun and Games Way

Here's a fun game:

Whenever you see someone look at their watch, wait until they stop looking, give a silent one second count, and then ask them what time it is. If they look back at their watch, you get a point. If they are able to tell you without looking, you lose a point. At the end of the week, add up your score. If you score in the negative, that's how many seconds you have to leave your tongue pressed against the terminals of a 9 volt battery. If you score in the positive, you're allowed to beat on someone for that many seconds.

Try it!

Sunday, November 26, 2006

The Misery Feeder

Congratulations, Intrepid Shopper!

You have waited in line for upwards of 60 hours in some cases, just for the honor of owning one of the first Playstation 3's to be released in America! Surely your life will be much more fulfilling than those pathetic saps who will have to wait, oh, about three months, to simply walk into Best Buy and purchase one for the regular retail price without having to endanger their health and well being by skipping sleep and risking assault upon exiting the store.

To those who attacked the people who waited on line, thank you for showing people the inherent risks involved with purchasing high end technology. You should be rewarded for culling the weak from the herd. If they wanted to buy a Playstation 3, they should make damned sure that they are able to defend that console on their way home. I eagerly anticipate the reports of home intrusion and burglary that involve the console.

To those who purchased yours with the intent to re-sell it on eBay, we are especially pleased by your entrepreneurial spirit. You are the essence of what we're trying to accomplish here on Earth; bilking the greedy out of their precious money by charging upwards of $2500 more than the retail price for something that will be available to all by Valentine's Day.

To those who actually purchased the system on eBay for $3000, relax. Your money is well worth it. You'll be a pioneer, discovering first hand all the glitches, bugs and snafus that the rest of the common man will be unable to enjoy when they get theirs in time for St. Patrick's Day.

And to Sony themselves, thank you for setting the whole thing up. By jacking up the price via using fad technology, you've created the ultimate must-have item for the holiday season, and by short-sheeting the public on available units, you've guaranteed violence. I can't wait for someone to do an Orson Welles "War of the Worlds" type broadcast announcing that Sony officially announced that there will be no more Playstation3 s produced, spawning a whole new classification of crime, where kids are being shot for their PS3's, and people are killed coming into their own house by spouses who assumed it was someone coming to steal their techno-geegaw.

Festering misery! It's soooooo beautiful!

All hope is not lost???

It took me a few hours of searching, but I managed to salvage SOME of the stuff from my old blog on iBlogs (heretofore referred to as iSUCKDONKEYCOCKblogs, or ISDCB for short) by looking up the cached pages in a google search. But much of the good stuff, including my Shatner Roast and my interview with Jesus are gone... :(

Rebirth of the Smart Centipede

Almost one calendar year ago, a friend of mine inadvertantly convinced me to start a blog. I used it as a personal Bikini Atoll, setting off my comedy ordinance to see what impact I might have on potential audiences. Things went well. Until last month.

The site I chose to host my blog, due to operating system incompatability factors, was iBlogs, a pathetic wretched site which has been mired by bugs and glitches for all of its miserable existence. Well, the good news is that iBlogs finally died sometime in the past week. After WEEKS of not being able to view the blog except for an odd random successful attempt or two, my brother got one final fleeting glimpse at our beloved blog, and said "hey, I got into the blog," and I foolishly assumed I'd be able to access it at a later date.

Today's attempt drew nothing but a search engine, leading me to understand that iBlogs has died it's internet death.

I lost an entire year of blog entries, and it has been some of the funniest stuff I have ever written.

Therein lies the explanation for what you are about to read;




You are nothing but wretched ass scum, the leavings of an all-too-hasty wiping of the rectal portal of egress, the filth encrusted glaze of fecal material left over when one has Taco Bell and is too hung over to adequately swab the poop deck.

I sincerely hope that the "people" who run- excuse me, RAN- iBlogs have died in some kind of fiery vehicular mishap, spending their last fleeting moments on this planet begging for the sweet release of death as their flesh is boiled into ash and their bones cooked like potter's clay, those miserable bitch-fucks.

I hope you all spend an eternity wandering the rings of Hell, engulfed in flames and wrapped in razor wire and being devoured by hungry spiders who are liquifying your innards only to let them congeal and heal to be reliquified again, you miserable fuck bites.

You've taken a year of my work and flushed it down the internet's yawning black shit hole without giving any of your bloggers a warning of a potential problem or a chance to retrieve their personal data. I hope your days are filled with the stench of a canyon of fecal matter rotting in the eternal midday sun, and your nights are filled with the haunting screams of every murdered child in history, you sopping wet fuck holes.

Gone are my personal musings on Ashley Judd, my favorite questions from my time at Nike, my satires of Jesus and Mohammed, the sheer bliss created by my updates on my angler-fish diamond stalk surgery, the genius of my unedited appearance on the Comedy Central Roast of William Shatner. All the neat stuff I've felt the need to share with my readers over the past year is gone, dust in the wind. Lost to the absolute bumble-fucks at iBlogs and their inability to maintain a functional fucking website.


The Smart Centipede is down.

But not out.

And not for long, at any rate.

Like a phoenix from the ashes, this new blog will arise to take the place of the old blog.

I can rebuild it.

Make it better.



Hold tight, dear readers. The first steps of this new born may be rocky as we get our bearings, but once we are back at full steam, the ride will be like no other.

We'll talk again soon.