Earlier this week I checked my mail to see if the disc for the newest season of [Hip Show for Hip People] had arrived from Netflix. Spoiler alert, it did not, but I still had mail nonetheless in the form of a suspiciously thick padded envelope. At first I thought some dang dirty trolls decided to send me Pampers samples again but when I looked at the mailer and saw it branded with American Indian imagery my thoughts immediately shifted from “regular diapers” to “tee-pees for your pee-pees”. As it turns out someone managed to get a hold of my personal information and sold it to someone else and I was now receiving IRL spam because of it… so I had to find the nearest calendar to make sure I didn’t get sent back in time to the nineties and be forced to find a way back.
The last time that happened I… well, let’s just say there’s a reason why MC Hammer suspiciously spent all of his money.
It says "Robert Maestro" under the red shit, okay?
Wait a second does that say “3 FREE GIFTS” with a “4″ written next to it as if the “3″ were a completely unintentional mistake at the St. Joseph’s Indian Free Gifts Factory? Holy shit. It does.
WELL SHIT THAT CHANGES EVERYTHING.
I tore this bad boy open and they must have really screwed the pooch at the Wannamakeanike tribe homeland because I got not 3, not 4, but 8 goddamn prizes (of varying quality) and I love prizes.
Merry Christmas from me and everyone at GatorAIDS. Or whatever. Surely that’s what I’m supposed to say on an update that goes up December 25th.
Proving that we exist solely to do nothing more than rip on Miniclip I’ll start this brief introduction off by pointing out that Miniclip’s mascot, a caricature of the CEO they affectionately call “Big Rob”, is the scariest fucking mascot in the history of global marketing. Seriously, just look at their fucking Christmas video. I bet you squirted a little in your pants, and not in a sexual way. That THING is horrifying. How a custom costume like that can be produced and not one person going “well now this is just pants-shittingly terrifying” boggles my fucking mind.
That voice. That… FACE. Big Rob rivals the kinds of crazy shit seen in Japanese horror films and surely once Miniclip has had enough of GatorAIDS collectively bashing them that creepy blood-soaked grin on Big Rob’s face will be the last thing me, Dracophile, Payton, or anyone else will ever see.
So, in true Christmas spirit I stole Miniclip’s Christmas video and remixed it into Roastmaster’s X-Mas Special. Enjoy the nightmare.
Every once in a while an actor emerges onto the scene whose performances and roles capture our hearts and bind to the very essence of our souls. GatorAIDS columnist and founder Dracophile, for example, really has a hard-on for Bruce Willis (which I assume was replaced with Sean Connery after his role in Dragonheart) and Payton, our forum administrator, more than likely swears his life to the mannerisms of shit like Cheech & Chong and Pineapple Express. I don’t know who our other staff members have boners for; I want to say Shoe of All Cosmos has the hots for Jaleel White but I’m not 100% on that. Point is, everybody has a favorite actor whether you’re a soccer mom who loves the wholesome vagina-drying antics of Tom Hanks or some trendy hipster who’s favorite actor is so underground he’s Chinese, and I’m no different. My favorite actor is none other than the legendary Edmund K. Lo.
Addendum: He's not Chinese, I am not a hipster.
Never heard of Edmund K. Lo before? That’s because he’s had a grand total of zero legitimate acting roles, but don’t say that to him because he’ll have you believe he starred in everything from Kids Incorporated to Titanic. Yeah, that fucking James Cameron movie. Lo is not my favorite actor because of his Oscar-deserving (and invisible) role in High School Musical 2; Lo is my favorite actor because of his ongoing role in the pseudo-documentary Edmund K. Lo: I Am a Real Actor You Guys, Seriously.
I can see from the WordPress administrator panel that Dracophile has at least four recent drafts, none of them edited since the morning of October 13th, a day where the website was closed and when it re-opened this article was posted. I don’t know how to properly console people, and even though I peppered in some jokes to the memorial article (while it was being written) the question is still asked, “Is it okay for us to laugh again?” I can’t tell you when Dracophile will be back to finish any of his drafts, last I heard from him he was having sleep issues and still trying to collect himself from the news, but I can answer the question on everybody’s minds:
Yes, it is okay to laugh again.
At the end of last month I penned an article that took a look at 20 of the most insane things to ever come from the mouth of @Horse_ebooks, a Twitter robot that padded its spam links with the most bizarre and nonsensical crap anybody has ever heard so their equine ebook pyramid scheme wouldn’t get picked up on Twitter’s radar. Reading @Horse_ebooks’ tweets is like reading spam email subject lines that were translated from English to Japanese and back and written by a retarded kid. I presented you with 20 of the weirdest that I could find, you asked for more, so here’s another serving of crazy. The first is below, click “More” to see another 19.
What kind of threat is this? A wife scolding her redneck husband for getting drunk and blowing their pension on shit from these people?
Twitter. Seriously. I hate it, and yet it’s something I’ve written the mostarticles about. To be honest it’s just a timesink of worthless regurgitated crap and the only practical use I can see it being utilized for is a makeshift RSS feed for people to use to keep up to date with their favorite websites which would be a great idea if RSS didn’t already exist in the first place. I don’t really care what butthole Daniel Tosh just rimmed or if Adam Savage just busted the myth of how many buttholes Daniel Tosh can lick in one minute. The fact that Kim Kardashian has almost as many followers as Barack Obama is pretty much proof that this country is fucked.
Despite all this I think I’ve found something I actually like about the service: automated script bots. Yes, the same “people” that try selling you cheap Nikes and WoW gold have also infested Twitter. Normally Twitter would nuke these bot accounts for doing nothing but spamming Viagra links but the trick here is these bots don’t spam URLs only; they’ll post a link once in a while and pad the spam with a few bizarrely generated tweets of utter nonsense. Horse_ebooks, a bot whose products I’m fairly certain revolve around electronic publications of an equestrian nature, is a scripted account of Russian origin whose “filler” tweets may actually be the thoughts of a mad man presented in real time.
I did what anyone else would do in this scenario, I took 20 of my favorite tweets and decided to half-ass an article. Below is one such example of Horse_ebook’s insanity. There are 19 more after the “More” line.
Trains and retarded people go hand in hand. Who would have thought? Read more…
I don’t talk about family much in my articles on GatorAIDS mostly because they aren’t funny (my family, not my articles you asshole). They’re mundane people who don’t really do much of anything of importance and are noticeably quieter than I am. For example, while growing up any time you opened my bedroom door you’d be blasted with the theme song to Crossfire. This was the only door in the house that was sound-activated. Similarly, the place I live now is just as loud and has led to at least five prior evictions. Like any good son I am still in contact with my family, though, and I still visit and see them and we go do family things even though everywhere I walk I’m followed by 80′s hair bands and my actions are normally accompanied by hot guitar licks and people stop and ask me for my autograph constantly because I am INTERNET FAMOUS.
A team of motivational speakers once paid a visit to my brother’s school and spoke to him and his classmates about how bullying is bad and that you should treat others with respect and all that, which is perfectly fine. Then they proceeded to break a bunch of shit that they had brought with them because they’re also a performance group. Weird, but again totally fine. Afterward they handed each kid a card that doubled as a ticket to a show they were performing in town.
EXTREME BRACES.
My brother was just visited by Team Impact and was given a pass to their show. Nobody in my family, except for me, knew what was about to happen.
I hang out here at GatorAIDS and since I’m too cheap to pay for a No Ads upgrade, but I’m decent enough to turn off AdBlock, I get to see lots of ads. One thing I’ve learned from these damn ads is “HOLY SHIT SWORDS”. The fine folks at TrueSwords.com have spent what I can only imagine is about eleventy thousand dollars to make it known to every single person who has ever visited GatorAIDS that they sell ninja gear and anime swords. Their ads show up so frequently that I feel like I know TrueSwords well enough to get to second base with them if I felt like it. According to the AdBrite Network reports that we receive, we’ve seen over three thousand TrueSwords advertisements. That’s easily five times as many advertisements as everything else combined, even the godawful “local mom gives head and makes $77/day YOU CAN TOO” banners.
One look at this banner and you KNOW it's gonna be good.
If you’re reading this and you live in the United States (of which I have been told is our largest demographic here at the presently revived GatorAIDS) then there’s a solid chance you’ve been enrolled in the public schooling system. Public school is one of those experiences that helps shape and cultivate who you are as a person both on the inside and on the outside, as in you’re either the person giving or receiving the swirly. I went to public school and I survived by choosing my own path and refusing to take any bullshit from people who wanted to get in my face about something. I got into fights with would-be bullies who didn’t know any better and I’ve had arguments where I told a substitute teacher she was about as smart and useful as Peggy Hill. All of these experiences change who you are as a person and arm you with the ability to either confront real life after graduation, or give it your best shot and let it blow up in your face. Here are six awesome memories from public school that are now becoming more and more scarce as time speeds on by.
The column that this article is published under, “The End of the Internet”, was intended to be a joke at the expense of reaching the fringe of the web (a reference spawned by an old DirectTV commercial about viewing everything there is on the Internet). This time, however, it’s a literal interpretation of the phrase.
Internet culture is something that can be served to you sugar-coated or “real”. If seeing cats wearing retarded hats and sitting in funny poses is how you want to receive your information then the Cheezburger Network has you covered since your IQ is clearly lower than the number of hits this website receives. For those of us who actually fit into our big boy pants without having to wear diapers, we preferred seeing an unabashed and sometimes abrasive and flat out harsh presentation of the attention whores and website failures of the Internet. Encyclopedia Dramatica was that website. Using a rudimentary MediaWiki format, ED showed up on the web in 2004 and quickly began amassing a giant readership and parallel base of contributors. As one of the many websites that the Internet sub-culture Anonymous took under their wing, ED was THE place to go to giggle at the latest lolcows and furries creating scatological Rule 34 of Care Bears. It was an interactive interpretation of reality TV, letting you read articles about all sorts of online misdoings and giving you the ability not only to laugh at them but to see these horrors of the web for yourself no matter how offensive or disgusting they were. ED was not a work-safe website, and you were there of your own volition to read and view the content and if it offended you? Well, then ED had a special “Offended” page for you to slowly browse until you crawled back to whatever Cheezburger website you came from.
WARNING: Images in this article HAVE been censored but the content may still be considered NSFW if you’re reading this in an open environment. You have been warned.
I’ve been on the Internet a long time. I remember back when every website displayed in Times New Roman and when GeoCities websites turned up in the first pages of Google searches. The Internet was a different place back then, full of buzzing modems and ugly typewriter-looking fonts (excluding the GeoCities-made fanpage staple Comic Sans). Previously disenfranchised people such as white supremacists were able to connect with each other and talk about hating black people, hating Jews, and doubly hating Jewish black people. Social groups that were otherwise unattached with one another were given a chance to reach out and band together and one of the very first groups to do so and gain momentum was the furry fandom.
Furries claim that their fandom has been around since the eighties and even have “experts” in the fandom that agree. If “Expert of the Furry Fandom” isn’t a self-appointed title I don’t know what is, but I will say that while the tiger chick from Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like The Wolf” music video was indeed hot I find it a far stretch to say that people are dressing up like Care Bears and having sex with each other because of it. That’s like saying Richard Nixon fucked up the economy of the United States by taking us off of the gold standard in the 1960′s. It certainly wasn’t a step in the right direction but Tricky Dick isn’t responsible for toppling the economy. Dubya, his cronies, and the combined efforts of their Visas and MasterCards are. Likewise a European pop band isn’t responsible for the word “yiff”; a bunch of Asperger’s with incredibly deviant sexual desires and access to an AOL free trial CD in the early nineties were.
I don’t hate furries, really. Dracophile is a friend of mine, and I suppose Payton is as well by proxy now that we write for the same site, and both of them are moderately sane and decent people if not a little eccentric at times. The only thing I have a problem with, honestly, is all of the people from the furry fandom who are so disconnected with the world and oblivious to how fucking retarded they are that they unknowingly put on a show for the masses as they haul their Baconator-loving masses around inside of an otter fursuit in the middle of an upscale hotel. For some furries their interests are mundane and they’re only in it to draw a few pictures and make some friends and I commend them for that, even if you have to stoop as low as to draw porn of Street Sharks at least you’re making an effort to make friends. Then there are those who live and breathe furrydom like an obsession and claim that their “fursona” is a representation of who they are on the inside (“halp imma aminal trapped in a hyooman bodyyy!!!”). This article is meant to take a look at the most popular fursonas in the fandom, what their subscribers think it means, and what it actually means.
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