As with the printing, music, and information industries, the march of innovation has made the puppy industry more efficient, humane, and adorable. The term “puppy mill” has garnered many negative connotations in recent years. It may cause you to think of a breeding farm where dogs are confined in tiny cages stacked on top of one another like the world’s saddest game of Hollywood Squares, bred with whatever animal happens to be handy until they are dried up husks by the age of three, allowed only to watch basic cable (no Dog Whisperer!), and shipped to stores in packing crates marked “Punch Me: defenseless animal inside” with nothing but their own feces for padding. Thanks to science and our unsung hero the profit motive, that’s the puppy mill of yesteryear.
Whitewashed by History: Aristotle
Although considered one of the most important founding figures in Western philosophy, Aristotle’s work was often riddled with delightfully short-sighted and ridiculous missteps in comparison to even his own contemporaries. In an age when an afternoon of passing curiosity might instantly lead to foremost authority in a previously unexplored field, Aristotle would dabble in such diverse studies as physics, logic, biology, or ethics with nary a charge of dilettantism.
And yet history, much like fortune, seems to have favored the bold. Today, Aristotle is remembered for his many audacious claims that proved correct, while his many less-than-successful musings seemed to have vaporized in the halcyon glow of Greek antiquity, never to return.
That is, until now, bitches!
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Acai the #1 Super Food!
THE SECRET IS OUT! Acai Berry is the #1 Super Food!
What? You people thought maybe Acai Berry was like the #2 or #3 super food? Fuck that and fuck you. In fact, you same people can go suck a Rose Bowl Parade worth of dicks! And speaking of sucking dicks, I’m going to go inhale Paulie Pumpkins’ right now because he just bought me a big ass bottle of Acai Berry Enhanced, the only Acai Berry product available that is specially formulated to make my lady parts smell like the goddamn breath of an angel! Don’t believe me? Just ask this smokin’ hot Asian bitch who helps me tag-team Paulie Pumpkins three or four times a week.
Aliens Are In Your Future – The Ones From Other Worlds, Not The Ones Cutting Your Grass
Let’s get started…
The human species has gained more knowledge in the last 60 years about our place in the universe than in all other years since we’ve been off our all-fours, combined. When we take into account the vast databases of information we’ve stored and the genius technological advances we’ve made, it’s no wonder that many of us look to the sky at night and think, “Are we the only ones?”
Finally, Some Goddamn Motivation to Clean Up this Oil Spill: The Mocking Gaze of Aliens
The wisest among us know that extra-terrestrial, intelligent life exists. And, out of all the billions of planets in the universe, the aliens are of course paying closest attention to ours. Why? Because we are the dumbest motherfuckers in the galaxy and are therefore the equivalent of a lowbrow sitcom to our alien betters. We’re like an even more poorly-written-and-cliched Married With Children. Holy fuck, it’s time for us to shape up and stop being such an embarrassment to existence!
With a seemingly innocuous ad (see it after the jump), National Geographic Kids has explained why we Earth morons should care about this confusing oily-spilly-mabobber-doohickey.
Hey Science Fags, What Happened To Smell-O-Vision?
The year is 2010. Mankind lives peaceably together under climate-controlled, paradise domes. Hunger, disease and war have been eradicated, so too have the dangerous and distracting class distinctions of our primal and bloody past. There are no fat people, because fat people are disgusting. Instead, genetically-engineered super humans wander about in perfect contentment, their horse-sized members and perfect, shapely breasts swaying in the pleasant computer-simulated breeze. Human intercourse has been vastly improved due to the addition of a new sensuous area on the bodies of women known as ”Fourth-Hole.” And if one can spare a few hours between getting slammed into unconsciousness by their own unmitigated bliss, vacation packages to Mars are readily available.











