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I’m still jet-lagged, so I’m not really up to great works of prose today. Also, I’m onto my third glass of wine and I’ve got Rage Against The Machine drowning out my downstairs neighbour’s drunken singing. Life is good. I could probably take a final shufti at the weird and wonderful search terms that happened to this blog during the past 30 days in all their unadorned glory. Hold on tight…
Hmmm. Now for those not in the know, that is a very strange juxtaposition. Hot ice and wondrous strange snow. Carl Sassenrath does not do complex. He does simple, compact, yet incredibly powerful. If you’ve ever used a classic Amiga with Workbench 2 on it, that was his work.
- what has the large hadron collider done for me
Well, I don’t know what it’s done for you, but it found Prof. Brian Cox’s car keys and Prof. Higgs’s bo’sun. Well, maybe. Not quite sure how it detects seafaring gentlemen, but that’s apparently what it’s good at. Listen, son: ask not what the LHC can do for you, but what you can do for the LHC. Now scram.
- anarchic teapot cancer clinic
Oh, I could just see meself in a pristine lab coat with two fancy pens stuck in me breast pocket, all posh-like. I would sit in my $5000 chair behind a real mahogany desk with one of those green leather pads, a couple of anatomical models and a photo of a trophy SO (“Eff off” – the SO’s fourth glass of wine) on it. When the
mark patient sits down, a little counter starts turning, showing the current amount of my fee. I would dispense advice in an Eastern European accent for added authenticity. Gorgeous sec… Ow! Oh, very well then: reasonably personable yet efficient-looking subordinates with slightly less expensive lab coats, hipster glasses and clipboards follow me everywhere, call me “Professor” when we reckon we can get away with it, and take over the real medical drudgery when I’ve finished charming money out of the clientele and have buggered off to play golf.
Any resemblance to any charlatan, living or dead, is of course entirely coincidental.
Oh gawd, I’ve got dozens of them. They breed, probably breaking into this reality via a wormhole created by the LHC when I wasn’t looking.
Hmm. Was this person infected with the “nasty mean sceptics are bullying me because I opted out from sanity” delusion, or were they looking for new ways to bully people who don’t subscribe to their whacky belief system? I would have thought hate email, ad hominems and smears in forums, setting up YouTube accounts specifically to smear and insult a 17-year-old boy, trying to get respected medics and epidemiologists fired from their jobs via lying accusations were all sufficient dickery to be getting on with. Let’s chalk this up to another example of the sCAMsters’ cult mentality and move on.
- anas barbariae hepatis et cordis extractum youtube
I was expecting an “Amen” after “extractum”. It does feel as if it should be reverentially intoned, so maybe they were looking for a video of Homeopathic Mass? Since CAMstery and sects have a lot in common, it wouldn’t surprise me at all.
- are herpes long and spiky?
I wasn’t aware you could have a single herp, but apparently I slouch corrected.
Well done, Sir or Madam! You have come to the right place. Yes, this blog is only mildly radioactive and may safely be handled without special equipment other than a stout pair of gloves and a freshly-rolled tinfoil hat.
- michele bachmann nip slip
Just when you think you’ve seen some really sick perversions. Sigh.
Is this some sort of oblique reference to the Pointy-Haired Boss in Dilbert?
- indigo essence bean bag cancer
Cancer of the bean bag, what a dreadful scourge. Check your bean bags regularly, folks, especially the indigo essence ones.
- contact andromeda council
Call 1-800-LOONY-BIN and give your current position. They’ll be in touch.
Nope. It doesn’t have the same ring as “Mark Zuckerberg, bitch”. I’d suggest “Rhys Morgan, yabassa”, but I’m not sure that means anything to the Welsh. Maybe “Rhys Morgan, period”. This is ridiculous. Why am I being nice about someone when I could just post a picture of him in a Kermit-green mankini and thermal underwear? Unshopped, too. Rhys is a smart and funny lad with the dress sense of a Muse fan. I like him.
I don’t know of any, but I feel I ought to be involved. I seem to remember an Ignoble prize going to a team who studied why teapots dribble, if that’s any help.
- why global warming isn’t true
Because you live on another planet?
- ffs chart for irriatable bowels
There’s no need to swear. Apparently when the bowel’s irritable, so is the rest of the person.
- is there any chartered accountant with schizophrenia
Not here, but thank you for asking. Statistically, there must be some, especially as on the whole it’s a draining and thankless job you’d have to be mad to want to do. Do properly, I mean.
- people with their accounts in facebook gender which is not male or female
Are stuffed. Sorry. Zuckerberg does what he wants (bitch).
This sounds like some kind of doll for the hapless offspring of neohippies who are into the paleolithic diet and organic toilets.
- short of conspiracy theories
As John Wayne inspired Buddy Holly to sing: that’ll be the day.
I don’t have any pet scams. All are equally objectionable in my eye. Also, my pet never scammed no-one, and they can’t prove a thing, officer.
- updates on andromeda and illuminati 2011
The Andromeda Council have a mailing list you can subscribe to??? Why wasn’t I informed?
- did us government steal patent for antineoplastons?
Oh gawd, is this lie still doing the rounds? The US government has no doubt committed many crimes, but stealing patents for ineffective therapies is not one of them. Of course, if the validity of a patent were to be challenged, e.g. by citing prior art or use, then the US judicial system might cancel that patent. Not the same thing.
The guy who wanted to see Michele Bachmann’s tits is starting to look relatively normal after all. I still wouldn’t, though.
- do short temper people get chicken pox
*HEADDESK* C’mere sunshine, allow me to introduce you to one of my personal heroes. Chappie by the name of Louis Pasteur. Smart fellow. He proved diseases weren’t caused by humours or smells or looking at people in a funny way back in the middle of the fucking 19th century. It’s now the 21st century. Wise the fuck up.
I have no idea what this could mean. Not a clue. And this –
- sane seeds helpful in chicken pox
– also leaves me dumbstruck. WTF are sane seeds? I suspect it’s another invention of the sCAMsters, or possibly their close relatives the conspiracy nutters, but my Search Engine Fu has failed me for once. Google, Google, why hast thou forsaken me?
The mind boggles. I have no idea what this is, but I do know they’re not doing it to me. No way.
I think we’ve just made a breakthrough in particle physics. Why build hugely expensive Large Hadron Colliders when all we need to do is look under the bridge where the Higgs is hanging out with all the other bums around a fire made of old shoes and snot?
- if mcr denies something will the secondary insurance pick it up
Not quite sure why you’d need secondary insurance for public pronouncements by My Chemical Romance, but I suppose one can never be too careful. Oh, S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W just came up in the shuffle. I like that song. In fact, I like the whole album. S’fun, it appeals to my comic-book-loving soul. Good band, just stay away from the fangirls at concerts.
- was matt bellamy on greys anatomy?
Look, I know both Matt and Bellamy are common names, so are we really talking about the shortarsed sopranist with a terrible taste in clothes? The diminutive Devon rocker with a penchant for bananas? The scruffy little oik with the sapphire stare and horrible beard? He’s an amazingly talented musician, but he can’t even act dead for a photo; therefore I very much doubt it.
Most appropriately, Time Is Running Out pops up in the shuffle and we move on to our last item:
- vibrational healing dowsing cure homosexuality
Assuming for a brief instant that homosexuality is an illness, this is just a neohippy version of praying the gay away. In fact, I hope so, as I’m beginning to wonder what they do with that dowsing stick. Oh Gawd, things are bad when “pray the gay away” seems like the least harmful option. I need a drink, and I’ve already had too many for tonight. A very merry Apocalypse to you all. See you in the next world, or life, or astral plane: whatever the loonbags think the LHC/God/the Andromeda Council is going to shift us into.