Because of a backup snafu, the original Grabass_Champion’s Engrish Adventures lost all of its images, which were pretty much the entire joke therein. So now that the images have been rediscovered and some new content found, I’ve decided to be all post-modern and release Part 1 after I’ve released Part II.
|
||||
|
Googling my screen name produced this gem from back in 2005. I have no idea about the context of this info, only that some group of teen aged girls thought it was funny as hell. I’ve separated out the actual conversation from her conversation about the conversation for your convenience. lime margar iiTa: HAHAHA lime margar iiTa: who talks like that?! INNER ATLANTA In a coming together of cultures, several representatives from the American hip hop community including Jay-Z, Lil John, and Michael Steele, met with many local first generation Chinese immigrant shopkeeps and buffeteers to endorse their favorite website, Crunkrine. We accept, gentlemen. Thank you!  This isn’t even the right flag! That’s Liberia’s flag! As if decades of slavery were not enough, now we deface someone else’s flag just because we’re too fucking LAZY to ink the RIGHT NUMBER OF STARS! Worse still, it’s a THROW PILLOW. It’s not even a real pillow! It’s like a big-game hunter tracking down the last Tasmanian tiger and then calling it a dingo when he mounts it to his wall. Patriotic holidays are just commercialist circlejerks. We don’t honor the fallen. We have sales on mattresses. It’s bad enough that Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and Labor Day have been bastardized, but why you gotta exploit the blood of our ancestors to make a $.59 profit on a refrigerator magnet?
In Ancient Greece, few dramas were more tense than this exchange of sharp words and swords between a pair of rival playwrights. Their story remained lost to history until the relevant documents were plumbed out of the depths of an Egyptian portopotty. It is supposed that they were deposited there after being discarded when an Achaemenid used them as first reading material, and then toilet paper. So… I have returned from behind the Great Firewall, a bit shorter and a bit more slanty-eyed, and with the distinct inability to pronounce words like “bus” and “campus” without inserting a mysterious “r” sound after the “u”. In China I learned many things, from how to properly use a car horn while driving (as a signal that there is something within 50 feet of the front of the car), to how to avoid getting hit by a child happily cannoning streams of urine into the street. Two months of endless diarrhea at the hands of Wuhan food, all of which contains loads of chili peppers, coupled with the inevitable circumstance that non-potable tap water would somehow end up in my stomach, have turned my rectum into the strongest muscle in my body, and lost me about 15 pounds. A week in Beijing renewed my appreciation for being able to see more than half a mile in any direction. Two months in Wuhan, where heat indexes routinely cleared 120 degrees Fahrenheit, renewed my appreciation for more temperate climes. Okay, that last bit’s not true at all, Pittsburgh weather is still comparable to diving into an olympic-sized pool full of mayonnaise-filled water balloons. I think the point of all this is, the Chinese are awful at English. A survey of countries supposedly complicit in genocides revealed that all the strange happenins’, shady dealins’, and apparent killins’ were only coincidences. This survey allayed fears of guilty American citizens who were starting to feel bad about sitting around while not one but several genocides were going on. “We have no idea how all these villages were burned, women were raped, and people were killed ruthlessly and systematically on the basis of their ethnic background,” said representatives of the Sudanese government, the country where Darfur is located. “But it certainly had nothing to do with Chinese oil companies! It must have happened while we stepped outside for a cigarette. Yes, the entire Sudanese government. At the same time. …We like company.” With the end of the 2008 Beijing Olympics, most of the highly-trained athletes felt a sense of closure as they returned to their countries of origin all over the world. However, one elite group of contenders met with only confusion: their events had never even been scheduled. The Chinese evidently hadn’t remembered about the Swampass competition. I’d been playin’ them all from the start. I took a drag from my cigarette and kicked Tanzmetall in the ribs. Nothing but a bloody death rattle from him. He was a goner for sure, and by lucky chance he had saved me some work. NDP was down, and I made sure he stayed down for good. |
Entries feed:
Comments feed:
|
|||
Copyright © 2010 Clunkline - All Rights Reserved Powered by WordPress & the Atahualpa Theme by BytesForAll. Discuss on our WP Forum 204 queries. 0.519 seconds. View in: Mobile | Standard
|
||||
