I know this will only appeal to about 10 percent of my readers (so that makes about 2 of you) but I’ve always wondered what would happen if the Death Star and Unicron got into a fight. Now we know.

And here’s the sequel.

I saw the new King Kong today. I’m afraid to say I wasn’t very impressed. It all had a “been there, done that” quality, even though I had never actually seen 3 t-rexes and a giant ape wrestle over a deep chasm in a tangle of vines.

Don’t even get me started on how long it took to get to the damn island. And this coming from a person who completely adores Lord of the Rings: Extended Editions. I can watch a 4 hour and 20 minute Return of the King on my head.

I guess I just prefer this Kong instead.

Here I am when I appeared as the title character in the movie Napoleon Dynamite:

Unfortunately, I was cut from the film because the producers wanted someone tall, lanky and dorky looking.

I am the number 2 result for the Google search for “cranky faces on oranges”.

In a bid to give my readers exactly what they want, here you go:

Get off his back. Sorry he can’t be as perfect as you, bitch.

Time for another edition of Puntabulous Christmas Carols! Just guess the name of the Christmas carol I am illustrating in the picture below. The answer is underneath the picture in inviso-text. Just highlight to read!

Oh Come All Ye Faithful

So the strike is over, but I figured it would be fun to live-blog my walk to work from Brooklyn to Manhattan. Well not live per-se, but you get the point:

8:15 - When I would normally leave, but extra time is needed to psych myself up.

8:20 - Begin bundling up.

8:30 - Finish bundling up and leave the apartment. Mood: Energetic

8:50 - Reach the Williamsburg Bridge. Nose begins to run. Remember I forgot to bring tissues with me. Mood: Disappointed

8:55 - Curse quietly to myself about still being over Brooklyn land. How long is this bridge again? Mood: Annoyed

9:05 - Reach the middle of the Williamsburg Bridge. Mood: Glad to be moving downhill

9:06 - Remember how fast bikes will now zoom past me because we’re moving downhill. Mood: Frightened

9:10 - Finally reach the other end of the bridge where Red Cross is giving out free coffee and tissues. Get a packet of tissues from the really nice lady, who seemed a bit disappointed I only want tissues instead of coffee. Did I offend her? Did she make the coffee herself? Who cares, I really needed those tissues. Mood: Elated

9:15 - Find deep doorway to blow nose in. Thoroughly wipe nose and mouth region because there is snot everywhere. Mood: Grossed out

9:16 - Continuously check nose for leftover drippy snot. Mood: Paranoid

9:20 - Walk past enormous Calvin Klein ad on Broadway and Lafayette. Make dirty joke to myself about luckily having the tissues. Mood: Clever

9:25 - Recognize the fact that I’m nearing work. Mood: Anxious

9:30 - Reach work in one piece. Mentally pat self on back. Compare self to Lance Armstrong and Mother Teresa. Mood: Proud

9:31 - Realize I forgot my lunch at home. Mood: Fucked

With the strike in effect, I have to walk to work. It’s quite a trek, seeing as though I live in Brooklyn and work in Manhattan. By the time I get to work, I’m quite winded, and am in that annoying state of sweaty and freezing at the same time. But there is also a real sense of accomplishment. How many people can say they are able to do what I did?

But then the other side of my brain says “Look jack ass, it’s only 3.4 miles, and the only reason you are so tired is because you refuse to work out any other time of the year. And no, taking the stairs instead of the escalator wherever possible doesn’t count! You essentially WALKED a 5K. Get over yourself!”

And then I feel like a hutt.

Time for another edition of Puntabulous Christmas Carols! Just guess the name of the Christmas carol I am illustrating in the picture below. The answer is underneath the picture in inviso-text. Just highlight to read!

Last Christmas

Dear God,

Hey. How are you? Yeah, they’re still on strike.

I know you usually leave the whole “hate” thing up to the televangelists, but could you send some hate in their direction? Perhaps in the form of backne or eyelashes in their eyes? Those are just some suggestions. I’m sure you’re much more creative. You made vaginas after all. If that doesn’t scream “evil genius”, I don’t know what does.

Thanks!

Love,
Puntabulous

PS- Tell Jesus I said Happy Birthday. But don’t say “Birthday”, he might get offended.

PPS- But don’t say “Happy Holidays” either. He could get offended by that too. He could be all like “Yo man, if it’s my birthday, just say it’s my birthday, don’t try and skirt around the issue with a generic statement of well wishes, jack ass.”

PPPS- Okay, better not say anything at all. But if he mentions me at all, tell him I say “Hi”.

Time for another edition of Puntabulous Christmas Carols! Just guess the name of the Christmas carol I am illustrating in the picture below. The answer is underneath the picture in inviso-text. Just highlight to read!

Let it Snow