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Top Ten Warning Signs Your Butt Might Have Been Probed By Aliens

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Someone’s going to be walking funny tomorrow.

Ahh, aliens.  Those intergalactic science perverts really do a number on the human heiney don’t they?

What exactly are little green men hoping to discover by shoving their high tech, state of the art devices up human butts?  Your guess is as good as mine.  At any rate, it’s not like these space weirdoes will leave you a calling card, so if you want to know whether or not your cheeks have been parted in the name of space science, you better consult this fine list.

From BQB HQ in Fabulous East Randomtown, it’s the Top Ten Warning Signs You Might Have Been Probed By Aliens

#10 – Your Butt Hurts

In theory, this could be due to a number of reasons, including by not limited to:

  • You’re wiping too hard and giving yourself hemorrhoids.
  • You ate an extra large batch of nacho chili cheese fries with extra hot sauce.  That’ll make the old tooter play a symphony for weeks, so get used to the discomfort.
  • You sat on a sharp object.
  • Brazilian wax.
  • Anal bleaching.
  • Someone kicked it.
  • A hobo had his way with you while you were sleeping.  That’ll teach you to fall asleep near a set of train tracks without a chastity belt.

However, if you’ve engaged in none of these activities then yes, it is highly possible that an alien shoved a carefully calibrated human nervous system mapping projectile up your poop chute.  I loathe being the one to have to break this unsettling news to you.

#2 – You’re a Drunken Redneck

According to the Fake Institute for Bogus Statistics, Southerners have a 97% higher chance of being butt probed by aliens than the rest of the population.  Add too much alcohol into the equation and you’re destined for an intergalactic butt inspection.

Why?  Call it discrimination.  Call it bias.  Call it what you will but whenever Jimmy Bob Bo Jim Jack gets on TV with his best trucker hat and “Honk if You Like Big Titties” shirt with the arms cut off and starts railing about the aliens that abducted him so they could have their way with his butt, people just start laughing and assume it’s the booze talking. Aliens know this and they take full advantage of it to avoid being caught.

Sure, the aliens could abduct and butt probe a boozy Manhattanite, but they’re all so uptight that their instruments usually just snap between their firmly clenched cheeks.

#3 –  You Remember Feeling as Thought Multiple People Were Touching You While You Were Asleep but Were Too Tired to Wake Up and Do Anything About It

Maybe you were abducted and butt probed by aliens.  Maybe you’re just the average, run of the mill college student.  The world may never know.

#4 – Your Butt is Pregnant

You didn’t even have sex.  Even more shocking…you’re a man!  Congratulations!  In nine months, you’ll be the proud father of the spawn that alien scientists inserted up your butt.

#5 – They Left the Probe in Your Butt

Look, not every alien scientist is the intergalactic equivalent of Steven Hawking.  Some are lazy.  Incompetent.  Inept.  Some have questionable credentials.  Some got their science diplomas through space mail.  Some have even been known to leave a probe sticking up the butt of a test subject, much like a meat thermometer stuck in the anal cavity of a Thanksgiving turkey.

At least the turkey gets warm, moist, herb seasoned stuffing shoved up there.  By the way, if you find any stuffing up your butt, then maybe you weren’t probed.  Maybe someone tried to eat you but changed his mind after deciding you don’t taste good.

#6 – Your Butt Hurts Twice in One Year

Maybe you didn’t learn your lesson about the nacho chili cheese fries with extra hot sauce earlier.  Maybe the aliens came back to get a second reading.  Again, the world may never know.

#7 – Your Farts Sound Like Electronic Codes

A sure sign that aliens probed you and left behind a microchip that allows your butt to communicate with the mother ship.

#8 – The Aliens Left Behind a Pamphlet

Some of the more considerate aliens have been known to leave behind a pamphlet on the nightstand of their test subjects.  It usually reads something like, “So You’ve Been Probed Up the Butt in the Name of Space Science.”  Topics include, “It Wasn’t Your Fault” and “Be Proud of the Many Scientific Breakthroughs that Will Occur Thanks to Your Butt Probe.”

#9 – Video Of the Inside of Your Butt Has Appeared on Cable

Not gonna lie.  Some aliens sell their probing videos to the highest bidder.  Somewhere amongst the thousands of cable channels out there, in depth footage of your Hershey Highway might being aired right now.  Boggles the mind, doesn’t it?

#10 – Your Butt Glows in the Dark

Some probes include a homing beacon that will flash, thus allowing the mother ship to spot your butt from space.  And you thought your butt was only visible from space because you got off your diet, didn’t you?

PARTING ADVICE

Equip your butt with a loud, obnoxious alarm.  Hire armed guards to protect your butt as you sleep.  Never lie down without putting on a pair of iron underpants secured with a sturdy padlock.  Break the key in four pieces and leave each piece in one of the world’s four hemispheres.  Really, people.  This is just common sense.  Protect your butt!

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Ghost in the Shell is a Flop and Why Did ScarJo Play Major? (Spoilers)

Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB here.  So Screen Rant and other sites are reporting that Ghost in the Shell is on the way to losing $60 million.

Not surprising.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on it when I was watching it last week, but I knew something was off.  There was a lot of appeal for sci fi nerds like me but it was lacking in terms of broad based appeal.  It’s always a bit of a roll of a dice when you make a sci fi film, usually the stuff that kids are into, but make it adult oriented.  The film was PG but the plot was high falutin’.

It asks the audience to ponder a lot of questions about life and death and also to hope for a day when our frail, limited bodies can be enhanced and kept alive permanently via technology, as well as what benefits and drawbacks would result from that.

By the way, I said in my previous review that there was a subtle explanation in the film as to why a Japanese character was played by ScarJo, a honky.  Remember, I can say honky for I am a honky.

Here’s the explanation.  Look away if you don’t want spoilers.

So, the key is to remember that Major is a robot.  She’s told when she wakes up that her brain is that of a refugee whose boat was blown up by a terrorist, leaving her parents dead in the process.  It’s not said out loud but one wonders whether in the future there might have been some type of catastrophe in one of the honky majority countries, thus causing honkies to immigrate to Japan, possibly explaining why there are so many honkies running around Japan.

Later, we learn Major was lied to.  Her brain once belonged to Motoko, a Japanese runaway.  The corporation claimed it only experimented on brains of those who had already died when in fact, they were kidnapping runaway kids and taking their brains out.

It’s never said directly, but one is left to wonder whether Major, the body Motoko’s brain is placed into, is a white supermodel looking babe out of some misguided corporate sense that this is the height of beauty that everyone should aspire to.

Thus, this is why ScarJo played the robot.

I suppose it’s up for interpretation.  If you saw it, tell me yours.

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Stop Sucking with Vinny Baggadouchio – Coping with Sucky Regrets

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World Renowned Motivational Speaker/Anti-Suck Expert Vinny Baggadouchio

I’m Vinny Baggadouchio and when it comes to karate chopping suckyness, I’m a black belt.  Perhaps you have read one of my fine anti-suck books:

Who Needs to Suck When You Don’t Have To?

I Can’t Stand This Sucky Feeling

Suck Ways to Saturday

The Suckback of Notre Dame

Suck Out the Suck

Set the Suck Aside

Kiss My Suck and Call It Ice Cream

A Brief History of Sucky Times

All Aboard the Anti-Suck Train

Make America Not Suck Again

Build a Wall Around the Suck and Make the Suck Pay For It

Who Let the Suck Out?

3.5 suckers, I’ve been busy spreading my suck free message across the world, consulting with the rich, famous and powerful and teaching them how to not suck.  And when I’m not busy sucking the suck out of celebrities, I make plenty of time to help poor suckers come to grips with their sucking.

Why, just last week I held the “Tenth Annual Gala to Bring An End to All the Things that Make Poor People’s Lives Suck.”  It was a rousing success and I’m happy to report that I helped a grand total of 10,000 sucky poor people get started on the path to a suck free life.

But enough about me.  Here’s today’s question:

Dear Vinny B,

I’m getting older.  Forty is just around the corner and when I look back on my life, I realize that it really sucked.  Seriously.  It sucked so bad.  All the sucky things in life happened to me and none of the non-sucky things happened to me.

Even worse, I made decisions that sucked.  I didn’t realize at the time how I was sucking up my life.  It didn’t dawn on me until I was able to look back on all the sucky behavior in hindsight.

I regret my sucky past but now I face an even suckier dilemma.  Is it too late to stop sucking?  I feel like everyone judges me based on my sucky decisions.  I’ve woken up and smelled the non-suck, but try as I might, I’m trapped in a suck cycle.  I want to not suck but the weight of all my past sucks weighs me down.

Am I doomed to always suck?

Sincerely,

Once a Sucker, Always a Sucker

Wow.  Sorry to hear about all that suck, Sucker.  That really sucks.

Let’s face the sucky truth.  Life has a tendency to suck.  Even worse, when we are young, we are trained to think that it won’t suck.  All the adults tells us positive things and treat us like mush brained dummies when we are young.  It keeps young people from making plans to combat a sucky life.

So, you made some sucky decisions.  You did some sucky things and you had sucky things happen to you.  You can’t let suck define you.  You can’t let suck bog you down.

Yes, we all wish we could take the knowledge we have learned about how not to suck, travel back in time, and give it to our younger selves, only to then find ourselves in a suck free present.  Alas, the state of time travel technology really sucks, so we aren’t there yet.

Still, you are alive and you have time to not suck.  Sure, you don’t have as much time as you wish you had to not suck, but there’s still time to not suck.  Only a sucker doesn’t use all of his time to not suck, no matter how much or how little time is left.  Be your least sucky self, always and no matter what.

You regret how much your past forty years sucked?  That sucks.  Don’t get to sixty and regret not taking steps in the past twenty years to not suck.  You had an excuse to suck when you were young.  You were young and you didn’t know any better.

Now you are older and wiser.  You’ve been knocked around by the sucky world.  You know the ins and outs of suck-dom.  You know how to curtail your sucky behaviors.  You know the suckyness that happens if you don’t.  Sorry pal, but you’re all out of excuses to keep sucking, so grab that anti-suck bull by the horns and ride it for the rest of your life.

“Regrets, I’ve had a few,” Frank Sinatra used to sing.  So, you have a few, or even a lot.  It’s time to wipe the suck slate.

You can’t change your sucky past, but the story of your future has yet to be written.  Will you write it with a sucky pen or will you vow to put an end to all your sucky ways for good?

The choice is yours, Sucker.  Choose to not suck, always and no matter what.  It’s never to late to not suck.

By the way, you can buy my new anti-suck book, It’s Never Too Late to Not Suck at a book store near you that doesn’t suck.

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Nerds Continue to Love Bookshelf Q. Battler

Hello 3.5 readers.  Sorry if you saw this already, but I paid good money for this so I have to keep throwing it around:

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 8

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Natalie sat in the passenger seat as Walt drove down the highway. The bravado laden voice of America’s favorite anchorman blustered through her ear.

“Natalie Brock. A helluva job you did on the Countess Cucamonga murder story. Helluva job.”

Natalie’s heart fluttered. She’d always dreamed of talking to the man behind the most coveted desk in cable news and now she was. “Thank you. I’m so glad you called, Mr. Manley.”

“Oh, please,” Kurt said. “Mr. Manley was my father. Call me Kurt.”

“OK Kurt,” Natalie replied.

“To be the first on the scene when the world’s most beloved pop star is snuffed out like a spent candle,” Kurt said. “You must have drunk a second glass of lucky juice today, my friend.”

“I was just in the right place at the right time,” Natalie said. “Not that I’m happy the Countess is gone, of course.”

“Of course,” Kurt said. “Blah, blah, blah, we all have to be human and say we’re sorry that we were around when bad shit went down but you know as well as I do that bad shit is always going to go down and its better for our careers if we’re there when it does.”

“I can’t deny that,” Natalie said.

“I hope you broke your foot off in that incompetent cameraman’s ass though,” Kurt said.

Natalie looked at her driver. His attention was on the road. “He was, um, severely reprimanded.”

“Excellent,” Kurt said. “Well anyway, I just wanted to congratulate you on the bang up job you did and let you know that you can take it easy because a Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties is being dispatched to Florida as we speak.”

Natalie closed her eyes. She covered her phone’s receiver with her hand, then blurted out multiple obscenities.

“Natalie?” Kurt asked as the reporter raised the phone back to her ear. “You there?”

“Sorry,” Natalie said. “Bad connection. You were saying?”

“You’re off the story,” Kurt said. “The bigwigs and I were impressed by your bravery. I mean, appearing on TV with your looks? That takes huevos, chica. Huevos grandes.”

Natalie took a deep breathe. “Kurt, with all due respect, I believe I’m the most qualified to report on this story. I’ve already broken it. I’ve already spoken to witnesses and authorities on the scene. I’ve even interviewed Countess Cucamonga’s manager on a number of occasions and he will no doubt prove to be a vital contact as the case progresses.”

“Let me stop you right there,” Kurt said. “You’re talking about qualifications and I’m talking about something else.”

“What are you talking about?” Natalie asked.

“Blonde hair and big titties,” Kurt said. “You don’t have ‘em and we need ‘em.”

“That’s disgusting,” Natalie said.

“Maybe it is,” Kurt said. “But we’re Network News One and you know our motto: The Hottest Blonde Chicks. The Biggest Titties and…”

“Oh yeah, and occasionally we report the news and shit,” Natalie said. “I know it well.”

“Then you understand the bind we’re in,” Kurt said.

“I understand you’re a bunch of sexist pigs,” Natalie said.

Kurt sighed. “Natalie, it’s easy to write the type of reporter that we here at NN1 prefer as a product of sexism, but if you do that, I think you’re missing the bigger picture.”

“Which is?” Natalie asked.

“The world is a terrible place,” Kurt said. “Umpteen zillion years ago, God granted us the gift of life and we’ve been repaying him for the favor by killing ourselves and each other at a rapid clip ever since. We’ve yet to put our minds to curing that which ails us, like cancer and heart disease, but everyday a new fangled method of killing the masses is invented. It’s sickening when you really think about it.”

“What does that have to do with…”

“Hot ass blonde chicks with big titties?” Kurt asked.

“Right,” Natalie asked.

“The people must be educated about what’s going on in the world,” Kurt said. “But with all the death and depravity going on, would anyone really bother turning on the news unless a hot ass blond chick with big titties was there to report on it?”

“I like to think that people don’t care about what the reporter looks like so much as the quality of the news report,” Natalie said.

Kurt chuckled. “And I think a leprechaun ought to swoop down on a magic unicorn and give me a pot of gold and a Vietnamese hooker loaded up with enough ping pong balls to choke a horse but we’re talking about reality here, kiddo, not fantasy.”

“This isn’t fair,” Natalie said.

“Oh boo hoo,” Kurt said. “Guess what? Life is unfair. Do you think some janitor making minimum wage to snake out shitty toilets only to come home and write out an alimony check for three-quarters of his pathetic salary to his no-good, two-timing ex-wife even though she hasn’t allowed him to see his kids for six months would ever, EVER want to turn on the news and learn about how many people were blown to smithereens today unless that information was pouring out of the supple red lips of a hot ass blonde chick with big titties?”

Natalie struggled for a response but couldn’t find one.

“Do you know how much joy our hot ass blonde chicks with big kitties bring to the average male news viewer?” Kurt asked. “Do you know that the average porn website costs over fifty dollars for a three month subscription? Do you know that in our recent viewer survey, a whopping eighty-nine percent of respondents said that they watch our channel for ‘fapping material?’ We’ve got people masterbating to our reporters and learning about war, destruction, chaos and the latest monkey produced virus to be found in their microwave TV dinners. It’s a beautiful thing.”

“I guess I never thought about it that way,” Natalie said.

“Most women don’t,” Kurt said. “Most women don’t understand what it’s like to have a penis. That little guy demands action 24/7, the type of action that our overburdened, overpopulated world is ill-equipped to offer anyone. The closes the average man will ever come to a hot ass blonde chick with big titties is to watch our channel.”

“Even so,” Natalie said. “I still…”

“Plus,” Kurt said. “Did you know that we are the nation’s number one employer of hot ass blonde chicks with big titties? Without our network, hot ass blonde chicks would be forced to resort to one of the other despicable professions they’re known to work in. We’re talking stripping, pornography, or even worse, appearing in network dramas for scale. Scale, Natalie! Are you trying to starve our hot ass blonde chicks with big titties?”

“No,” Natalie said. “I would never want to hurt the hot ass blonde chicks with big titties.”

“Good,” Kurt said.

Natalie searched within herself for strength. After mustering some up, she gave it one last try.

“Kurt,” Natalie said. “I’ve been trapped at the same local station for ten years. I don’t want to be here for my entire career. If I lose this story, I doubt I’ll ever find another one like it. Please. Don’t take me off it.”

There was dead silence on Kurt’s end of the phone for a moment. Finally, the anchorman sighed and started talking again. “You got guts, lady. You know, you remind me of a young me. Hard to believe, I know, but I wasn’t born the stud muffin I am today, the same stud muffin that gets women to tune in by the millions. We here at NN1 aren’t just about brining the news to men while they get off. Every night, the nation’s supply of females tune in just to flick the old bean around to yours truly.”

Natalie made a face of pure disgust. She was glad Kurt wasn’t able to see it. “OK then.”

“With a little hair dye a whole lot of plastic surgery, you too can be a hot ass blonde chick with big titties,” Kurt said.

“But I don’t want to be a hot ass blonde chick with big titties,” Natalie said.

“Yeah, well,” Kurt said. “Maybe I didn’t want to have ten trillion hairs ripped out of my anus and surgically implanted on my head in order to fight my male pattern baldness. Maybe I didn’t want my teeth replaced with shiny porcelain chiclets. Maybe I didn’t want silicone gel implanted in my pecs or off brand, illegally imported, discount Guatemalan botox shot into my face by a nursing school drop out every morning but damn it, I wanted to be the best damn anchorman around so I did what I had to do. Was I wrong when I said you had huevos grandes?”

“No,” Natalie said.

“Then get out there and get yourself some blonde hair and big titties!” Kurt said.

“But,” Natalie said. “There’s not enough time for me to get blonde hair and big titties.”

“Well,” Kurt said. “You better think of something because your boldness just bought you another round of airtime, kid.”

“Thank God,” Natalie said.

“No,” Kurt said. “Thank me.”

“Thank you, Kurt,” Natalie said.

“And the next time I see you on air, you better look like you just walked off the set of Jumbo Jigglers Part Seventeen.”

Click. Kurt hanged up. Natalie did as well.

“Network News One?” Walt asked.

“Kurt Manley himself,” Natalie answered.

“Wow,” Walt said. “Someone’s moving up in the world.”

Natalie rested her head against the cool glass of the passenger’s side window and watched the bright lights of Miami pass her by. “Where the hell am I going to get blonde hair and big titties at this hour?”

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You’re in Luck, 3.5 Readers

A new chapter of Toilet Gator and it isn’t even Sunday.  Enjoy!

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Zom Fu – Chapter 59

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Bonk! Bonk! Bonk!

Multiple skulls cracked under the weight of the Whirlwind’s club, but the creatures kept coming.

“Baldy!” the Whirlwind shouted. “Anytime you want to get off your fat ass and help me murder some of these brain biting bastards, let me know.”

Niu remained silent and motionless. His breathing was shallow. His chest moved slowly up and down.

“Fine,” the Whirlwind said as he conked a zombie upside the head, dropping it to the ground. “Let me do all the work.”

“Blargh!” a zombie cried as it chomped its teeth in the Whirlwind’s direction. The Whirlwind knocked them out in one fell swoop.

“Hmm,” the Whirlwind said as he looked at the blood on his club. “Effective.”

The thief looked around. Over a dozen zombies were standing around him in a circle, kept at bay only by the Whirlwind’s fancy club work. However, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fend off the monsters on his own forever.

“Well,” the Whirlwind said as he closed his eyes. “Here goes nothing.”

Like a cyclone, or rather, like his namesake, the Whirlwind spun around and around and around, bonking one zombie skull after another with his club. Bonk, bonk, bonk, bonk, bonk…the zombies’ skulls grew weaker and weaker until…kaboom! All twelve undead heads exploded, showering the thief with a hefty rain of blood, guts, and brain pieces.

The Whirlwind looked around in sheer amazement. “Very effective.”

The thief flicked a piece of brain off of his robe. “Oh right,” he said as he pulled a chrysanthemum out of his pocket and devoured it. “Better take my medicine before I end up like one of these pricks.”

The Whirlwind holstered his club, then picked up Niu’s hands. The giant’s arms were as heavy as tree trunks.

“Would you believe it, baldy?” the Whirlwind asked as he strained to pull his fallen comrade. “Club fu is real!”

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Zom Fu – Chapter 58

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General Tsang’s knees were old and weak. The pain was getting to him as he ran through the streets of the Forbidden City, slip sliding through rain soaked cobble stone paths.

“We’ll reach the escape passage soon, Your Majesty,” the general said to his wee charge. The Emperor’s little arms were wrapped so tightly around the general’s neck that the old man struggled for air.

The general came to a crossroads. None of the options looked promising. Zombified warriors approached from the side streets to the left and the right, as well as from the road straight ahead.

“We’ll have to double back,” the general said as he turned around only to find Rage Dog standing in front of him, his hair slick and wet. A flash of lightning illuminated the night sky. A thunderclap followed.

“Come back for more, have you?” General Tsang asked.

Rage Dog laughed. He drew closer, as did the zombified warriors. Evil closed in from all sides as the general produced his dagger.

“Don’t worry,” General Tsang said. “You’ll get it.”

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Zom Fu – Chapter 57

tabletdemo

Dragonhand wasted no time. He delivered ten slaps to Junjie’s stomach and another nine slaps to Junjie’s chest. Junjie grabbed Dragonhand’s hand before the tenth slap was landed, saving himself from explosion via the mystifying monkey slap.

“Knowledge is power,” Dragonhand said as he seized Junjie and flipped him into the air. “But experience is essential. So many have died due to the knowledge I have stolen from the brains of China’s greatest kung fu masters. How many have died at your hand?”

Junjie launched himself into the air and brought his arm down in a furious fox paw arc. The fiend stepped out of the way, leaving Junjie to crack marble floor with his fist.

The Infallible Master watched from a vantage point next to the Dragon Throne. “You were always so boastful, Longwei.”

Dragonhand ignored the old man and charged at Junjie. Junjie attempted to jump over Dragonhand, but his foot was caught by his adversary. He was flung ten feet across the throne room, but managed to right himself and land on his feet.

“Impressive,” Dragonhand said as he looked into Junjie’s eyes. “I see such hatred in your eyes.”

“Pay him no mind, disciple,” the master said.

“Why do you despise me so?” Dragonhand asked as he pointed at the ghost. “Because I killed that doddering old fool?”

Punch and deflect. Punch and deflect. The opponents became locked in a frustrating struggle, catching one another’s fists over and over. Dragonhand swept his foot underneath Junjie’s leg, knocking the young man on his back. Junjie sprang to his feet instantly.

“Gratitude is in order,” Dragonhand said. “He would have eventually found a way to hold you back, just as he did me.”

“I never held you back, Longwei,” the master said.

Dragonhand looked at the ghost. “Shut up.”

“The truth disturbs you, Longwei?” the master asked.

Taking advance of a distracted foe, Junjie bicycle kicked his way across the room, connecting his feet to Dragonhand’s face seven times. Once he regained his footing, Dragonhand hurled himself at the hero and brought both hands down against the side’s of Junjie’s throat.

The Devastating Crane Smash. Junjie felt its effects instantly. He fell to the ground. His face turned blue as he gasped for air. Dragonhand smiled as he walked in a circle around his opponent.
“And now you’ll know who your best student was, old man,” Dragonhand said as he raised his fist up high, preparing to bring it down on Junjie’s head.

“His name is Junjie, Longwei,” the master said.

Dragonhand turned to the master again. “Never say that name to me again!”

“What name?” the master asked. “Longwei?”

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RIP Don Rickles

Hey 3.5 dummies.

Sad news for the comedy world as legendary insult comic Don Rickles has died at the age of 90.  He is basically the inventor of insult comedy and also rolled with the Rat Pack aka Frank Sinatra and friends.

Here’s my favorite memory of Don Rickles, when he appeared in 1998’s Dirty Work starring Norm MacDonald and Artie Lange as a duo of schmucks who start a revenge for hire business.  This movie is kind of an acquired taste.  I’ve talked to people who love it or hate it, but no one in between.  Rickles is the best part of the film:

What’s your favorite Don Rickles moment?

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