Modern Paradoxes

Now that we in the First World have hit “Peak HD”, we can no longer rely on crystal clear images to blow our minds. It’s this sailor’s opinion that we must look back upon the brain blasters of old to reignite our imaginations, ensuring we’ll never been short of ideas for Pixar movies.

Looking past the amazing properties of yeast, and snakes getting boners, I’d like to table a re-ignition of paradoxes that once dazzled the olive-soaked, unexposed-to-canned-chilli brains of robe-clad youths in Ancient Greece.  Here are two modern examples suitable for transcription into your next yearbook quote.

The Bourne ΡΛΓΛÐ⊗Χ


It’s the fourth of July and you throw a party called “Bourne On The Fourth Of July” where you watch Jason Bourne movies on the fourth of July, but you also want to celebrate the “Bourne On The Fourth Of July” celebration by watching “Born On The Fourth Of July” on the fourth of July during “Bourne On The Fourth Of July”, while also honouring the fourth of July.

The Soil ΡΛΓΛÐ⊗χ


The verb “soil” means to “make unclean”, and is often used in regards to human piss, thus to “soil” something could refer to “pissing” something, notably pants or underpants.

The noun “soil” is the brown crumbles that cover our planet and help plants grow. Many plants grow above the surface of the soil, thus soil could be referred to as “underplants”, a colloquial term that makes reference to human underpants.

If I were to say “I pissed my underplants” that would mean I’m watering my plants, but if I were to say “I soiled my underplants” I could mean I watered my plants but ALSO I added my soil to an existing mass of soil.


TLDR: Soil is dirt and to piss, underplants is soil, soil the underplants, piss the soil


I’m not sure I know what a “paradox” actually is but at least I’m contributing to the Internet and not lookin’ at it like you.

I Miss The Lord of the Rings

Ever since the last LOTR movie disappeared from the big screens of regions across the crust, the only way I’ve been able to re-capture feelings of action and adventure is by doing barrel rolls in the turnip patch next to the motorcycle repair shop.

“You’ll always have the books, Glenn,” whispered Gandalf, removing his hat and lowering himself atop the tiny oak toilet in Bag End, signalling the end of another long quest.


I know that, but whenever I read I always imagine my male protagonist having the face of Judge Reinhold and the talent of Joe Montana. Granted, that just about equals Viggo Mortensen but it’s not all the way there, and he’s the ONLY sword swinger I want to picture prancing the prairies when I’m paying my respects to the Lord.

Isn’t it weird that books can last forever but movies have a shelf life similar to that of a line of cheeses that have different shelf lives depending on what level you purchase? Cracker Barrel C1, Cracker Barrel C2, Cracker Barrel C3…, each one would have different strengths and weaknesses in terms of flavour and shredibility like the asexual characters of the Mario Kart universe.

This has been your introduction to CHEESE & WHINE & WINE… now onto the main event:


Today I’m grating some whine into a glass of “Penis Gnar”, the latest unconventional pinot noir from those rebellious vintners at Statutory Grape Estates.

The whine I’m pouring is “Politics”, which I’m only plopping on so there’s record of my opinion on the matter should I win the raffle that explodes all my personal electronic devices in exchange for unlimited touching at the world’s best museums.



If my carefully curated social media channels are to be believed, Donald Trunp is a tit honkin’ fuck face who hates everyone except his family, whiteys with thick wallets, and women who aren’t regular. If he truly is that bad, wouldn’t he have eaten somebody by now? Does this mean I need more varied friends? I like to think I’ve got a gaggle of great grownups geared toward good gravy, goofy gigs, and green gags but do I ever learn anything? Of course I do, I love all those guys. If I’m going to try new things it’s not going to be friends; my thing fling will be with new types of noodles and a deeper understanding of Photoshop’s lasso tool.

That’s it, I’m done! I packed roughly three features into one important post. By doing so I’m now qualified to enter the Burger King Blog King Derby where the winner receives a custom 3D printed straw relative to the size of their lips, and keys to their local BK. Honestly, all I want are the keys themselves because they’re made from a tooth of the only known dolphin with an overbite, and that sort of thing makes for good stories if you’re like me and don’t know how to talk casually to your dentist.

Tear Tiers


Tier 1 – Tiny Tears

Low sodium trickle capable of hydrating small mammalia with low intelligence; inconsistent intervals not ideal for timing board game turns.

Common Instigation: A guest sauced your last roll of toilet paper.

Tier 2 – Low-Level Tier 3 Tears

Brine-rich droplets; shape comparable to rain forest dew formed on back of juvenile log hogs; average viscosity; known colloquially as ‘prismatic blue berries’.

Common Instigation: Your group learns the hieroglyph for “stooge” looks a lot like your right sideburn.

Tier 3 – Salt Sob

High emission duct spawn capable of travelling long distances; anthropologists dubbed them ‘pop tears’ as they are depicted in famous works of art, and Portuguese food labels.

Common Instigation: The DJ called you a “sack” on air after you requested a song you swore your dog loves.

Tier 4 – Fear Tears

Autonomous cheek eroders with ocean-like cellular structure ideal for the growth of single cell organisms and training surfers to feel more at home.

Common Instigation: Someone ran an Austin 3:16 shirt up your flagpole on Remembrance Day

Tier 5 – Mom’s Dead

Nutrient-rich lip food of the geyser genus; Shakespeare lived off his own Tier 5’s while penning King Lear, thus the appellation, ‘Bard’s Buffet’.

Common Instigation: Mom’s dead

Tier 6 – Tearing At Your Soul Tears

From Plato’s ‘Republic’:

“Tears tear through time tickling all trace of face, wring robes to make sea…”

In modern literature: ‘The old homemade soy sauce’

Common Instigation: Dad killed mom


Friday Flip Sides

As a personal website that prides herself on transparency, we feel it’s prudent to disclose that the following content has arisen out of demands from shareholders who were displeased with our Q3 results. They’d prefer we move toward an editorial model that encourages social sharing, which we’ve agreed upon and will make an effort to strive toward with every exclamation point we tap. By no means will this affect our core value of “Go Fuckin’ Bonkers Or Ski Home With A Snake Tied Around Your Neck”, and are hopeful this slightly new direction will allow us to broaden our audience to beyond mustard lovers.

The following is the first in a series of blogs to be released every Friday, right when your mind starts drifting away from spreadsheets and emails, and toward dead meats and females, eh fellas? Mmm boy. Gather your family around the computer and throw your dog in the closet, it’s time for the first ever edition of FRIDAY FLIP SIDES.

On Friday there’s a palpable buzz in the air…


…But on the flip side, you’ll probably never know what a lion tastes like, and you certainly won’t ever experience a lion gravy.

On Friday the promise of a full weekend is in your grasp…


…But on the flip side, there’s no emoji to let people know the cancer has spread.

On Friday night you can go to bed as late as you want…


…But on the flip side, if your penis is small enough to fit up a nostril, you’ll probably never get married.

Friday is pay day!


…But on the flip side, if good aliens come, George Clooney will probably make friends with them first; they’ll stay at his Italian lake house and no one else will get to try their serums and mind melds.

On Friday, the city streets swell with fun-seeking youth…


…But on the flip side, you can’t control the guest list at your own funeral unless it’s part of your will, but if it takes awhile for you to die you’ll have to update it often because friends come and go. Your lawyer will get annoyed and claim a funeral guest list is unprecedented, and you’ll end up wasting much of the money you were supposed to leave to your family on lawyer fees. The lawyer will use the money to purchase ozone-damaging petroleum for his or her luxury vehicle just because you want to make sure your sister doesn’t invite cousin Shane to a party in your honour that you won’t even be alive for.


Movie Review — Ghostbusters

The Ghostbusters don’t have dicks anymore because the new Ghostbusters are 100% women. Their new adventure begins, middles and ends much like the adventures of their tit-loving 80s counterparts: The Ghostbusters notice there are ghosts around; they bust; people think they’re bullshit; bigger ghosts come; they bust; people believe them. They carry the same brand of laser, hate slime, and are pretty horny just like the first Ghostbusters, so there’s lots to like and plenty of fresh spooks and camera angles to keep you and your master happy.

Any movie about ghosts is going to have an aura of fear surrounding it, and this major project is no different. For instance, the makers were so scared that people would get pissed that the old Ghostbusters aren’t the new Ghostbusters that they haunted new movie with the old Ghostbusters to make you go “A ha!”, and your dad go, “Thank goodness 80% of them are alive”. These appearances don’t make the movie any better, and quite frankly I would’ve enjoyed seeing more of today’s hottest comedy stars in their stead–male, female, grandpa, whatever, just give me a movie that doesn’t remind me that I’m so dumb for watching a movie that’s already been made.


Horn dogs will be disappointed to know that the new Ghostbusters wear comfortable, work-appropriate  jumpsuits, with nary a bra strap flashed. Don’t worry you Mountain Dewds because this baby still looked great with primary-coloured ghosts, a big car with real lights, and New York City being its rude rude self.

One of the only men in this was Chris Hemsworth who you know as exotic fighter Thor from the Spiderman movies. They wrote him as an idiot, which made for big laughs because even though the reasonable part of the world treats races and genders the same, we’ll all still willing to laugh at a fuckin moron all day long.

I don’t know about you, but I like my summer crammed with pineapple flavour, weekly dips, no snakes, and plenty of fresh movies to keep my summer mind off the bads, and on the rads. If the world is a refrigerator then this movie is a carbonated, artisan blend of tropical fruits, but it’s still made by Pepsi, you know? I’d give this movie seven who cares it’s just a movie out of 10 watch it but don’t think about it and would recommend it to anyone who doesn’t have air conditioning seeking respite.

Crotch brainstorm

My team and I spent a good chunk of the afternoon brainstorming some ideas around the human crotch. It was for internal purposes that we cannot reveal at this juncture, but would nonetheless like to share some of our thoughts to encourage conversation and inspire innovation. Let us know if you have anything to add!

    • A crotch does not require genitals but genitals do require a crotch — significant? How did this agreement begin?
    • If the bicycle is pro-crotch, then a skirt is the anti-crotch. Uncomfortable wearing skirt on bike? The numbers work out.
    • Crotches exist in the natural AND unnatural world i.e. a section of road under a bridge forms a crotch / a window has a crotch when the curtains are cracked
Theo, Lonnie, Han, and Inka busy at work, right before I bought everyone dough for lunch.

Theo, Lonnie, Han, and Inka busy at work, right before I bought everyone dough for lunch.

    • Today’s crotch is no different than yesterday’s crotch, and though the crotch of the future is unknown, it is likely to remain as such
    • The crotch forms a natural “V”–Roman Numeral “5”–22nd letter of the English alphabet–5+22=27–27 letters in the alphabet (right?)–everyone has a name–every name has a letter–everyone has a crotch
    • Sex CAN be the joining of crotches but is not NECESSARY for sex
    • May I call my urine “Crotch Scotch”?
    • Running OR jogging is dynamism of the crotch
    • Will a traced crotch correspond with the movement of the planets, mathematically?
    • A crotch begins rotting at birth, no denying this


Embarassing moments at the Intergalactic Conference

Oh boy, where to begin? In short I was chosen to participate in an Intergalactic Conference and it was a complete disaster. Maybe my expectations were too high and this type of experience is the norm. Basically it boiled down to this:



Here are only a few incidents out of many. Some I can’t mention not for any legal reason but because they technically haven’t happened yet due to a rift in space-time that I caused  (long story but it involves my driver’s licence and a card trick).

Got caught fishing a crystal shard out of a toilet by the same being who shat it out.

Was the favourite in a swimming contest because of Earth’s large amount of water. Got smoked by a fish woman and received many death threats (telepathically) from things that lost money betting on me.

Met the being who built the best parts of the Great Pyramids and he was like, “Hahaha that was my grad prank”.

Every time I smiled someone would say, “Your bones are showing”.

My bow tie looked exactly like one of the keynote speaker’s wives.

During a “pupation break” those of us who don’t pupate were forced to watch a nine hour film on new stars narrated in a language that sounded like a goat eating a modem.

Half the species in attendance could see my farts.

This was seriously the photo they put beside my profile in the guidebook.

Ever time I coughed a guest died.

When chewing gum nervously, aliens kept approaching and asking where I got the invisible food. I ‘d tell them it’s just something we chew in Earth and assured them there was no invisible food, but later I found out there was invisible food and those I “lied” to filled my space craft with flying worms.

During a fun get-to-know-you game, I got partnered with a poisonous horn.

Mistook the children’s playroom for a plate of hors d’oeuvres and ate many delegates’ young children.

At dinner I  sat beside something whose skin was magnetically attracted to my hair.

These guys begged to see my dick

Was playing with my iPhone 6 and hoping someone would notice it but everyone was way more interested in a lava man who brought a book with him.

Speaking of which, the thing that wrote the Bible got an award for satire and forced me up on stage when a reporter asked, “What do the buffoons in your book actually look like?”

Went to get my picture taken with Earth in the Hall of Planets but something slimed it.

A security guard recommended I leave because a lot of attendees wanted to eat my eyes. I took its advice but left too early to get a gift bag that apparently included God’s autograph.

Movie Review — Captain America: Civil War


The tits and fists of Marvel’s finest are on full display in the latest comic book to huge screen transfer, in a movie we’re all forced to call, Captain America: Civil War. This heavyweight’s got everything you love, from tailored black leather jackets and vests zipped halfway up, to black cotton jackets zipped half way up. It’s all bound together by out of this world action and special FX from Hollywood’s most expensive computers.

I’ll give you two guesses what this story is about… did you guess “trouble”? Trouble seems to follow these super stars wherever they go. This time around a really smart guy without any control over lightning or water named Zemo decides to split the team apart by totally outsmarting them. This is one of those nouveau bad boys who starts the movie as a “who is this guy?” then is slowly revealed as a “someone who’s pissed about something that happened before”.

Because of this guy’s bad brain, the Avengers gotta choose between fighting alongside half man/half car Iron Man, or U.S. citizen and accomplished globetrotter, Captain America. Once the teams are evenly distributed so that no one cries, they all go at it  with thousands of hard but safe punches and whatever magic Santa brought them for puberty. This raises the question, “who are the bad guys?” but is easily answered by “he who wishes to explode something”. Since none of the following are eager to destroy more skyscrapers than is necessary when fighting a huge creature, they’re still good even if they scowl more than usual.


Iron Man’s team has a couple aliens, cat woman and his buddy who always copies him.


Captain America signed up Robin Hood, A Falcon, Mrs. Boring, his best friend who totally rocks even though his brain is screwed, and Paul Rudd


Heheheh is this Batman??? No way. 

Throughout this thing I couldn’t help but think of how comfortable the Avengers are at their compound where Tony Stark has provided them with unlimited furniture, leather jackets, and a screen next to every toilet.

I’d give this movie seven Marvel movies out of ten Disney Universes, and would recommend it to any shut-ins who want something bright but can’t do the sun.

420 Snak Pak 2016 — Yuppie Edition

Using marijuana for relaxation and bettering of Disney movies is more widespread than ever. Not only are teenagers of divorced parents getting stoned, but all peoples across all income levels. In the past we’ve provided weed’s core audience with a visceral 4/20 experience, but this year we’d like to toss a treat toward the wealthier red eyes who may be new to the trip that sees no class. Please enjoy this Snak Pak, Yuppie Edition:


Suck in the joke smoke or start a vapour caper, press ‘play’ on your brain and let the universe reign. Take the wave valet to the shade chalet. Let’s begin. 

There are rarer tones that you have the means to afford but today we are one and the notes are in bulk. Which clef would you prefer? Allow the numbers to decide for they are the only true source ©


Reflection is as truthful as chemistry when both feet are crystal deep. Ponder your mirror with these ancient postulates:


…You are on the scale of the universe but your mass is insignificant in the web of infinite vortexes.

Your money has no value in the stars… but if the coin is not the Holy one then what place does it have in this dimension we call “now”?

Your clean suits and shimmery body gloves are masks crafted by the vanity of evolution’s children. Which elders CAN you trust? A smile will guide you toward the natural leader.


Expel the five whims. Expel the five whims. Expel the five wh—–ims.


You are the only traveller you need. You are the road. The destination lies not in the form but in the question. Heed the signs, believe the limits.


What of the fuel?


You ingest what you believe is superior but how can there exist a hierarchy when the molecules of being are not the ones who are begging?

Annual General Meeting

Every question can be asked in new modes but some are more dynamic than others. Let us bow and pretend.

Is sleep also the cousin of bloopers?
Would you sacrifice your eyes to rid yourself of ‘up’ and ‘down’?
Where does hair end and brain begin?
If there’s something in nothing then is nothing some thing?
Would a diaper benefit or hinder a hibernating bear?
What if Stonehenge represents the three meals?


“My thinking is de-railed and I’m tied up to the tracks, on the Train Of Consequences there ain’t no turning back”
– D. Mustaine

* Credit to for some gifs I lifted. Others I googd. Thank you!

34th birthday

It’s my birthday today, and unless I get unlimited attention I’ll fall into a temporary depression that could severely effect the light and funky tone of my emails.

I don’t ask you for much so please don’t sneer at the following list of demands I have of you on my special day. I would recommend someone start up a Google doc that tracks who’s doing what because I don’t want any repeats. Last year’s request of “peace and quiet” got so out of hand that someone melted my CDs, and every dog in my neighbourhood got killed.

Forward me my horoscope

"How do you spell 'bodacious' again?"

“How do you spell ‘bodacious’ again?”

In my 34 years I’ve never read a horoscope that has influenced me negatively enough to quit my job or take one of those online courses on how to kiss properly. I know they’re not written by real magicians but that doesn’t stop me from interpreting each as a message from a plane of existence that knows way more about me than the shower head I use as a microphone for the fake podcast I do in my shower every morning.

For some reason birthdays are to horoscopes as bras full of chocolate coins are to birthdays, so please make my day special by forwarding me as many as you can find. I’m an Aries, and if there’s anything us rams love more than chewing our cud after scarfing some gnarly grass, it’s light existentialism.

Get personal

"New paragraph.

“After you’re done writing my will you can wash my hair”

Gifts are great but I got enough possessions to create another Glenn and give him a pretty decent head start in life. I’d prefer you tell me how much I mean to you, not because I’m a narcissist but because I could use the tears. I used to expel as much energy trying not to cry as I did giving up the hope that karate would come to me naturally. But now life has beaten me down so hard that a chance to shed a few is as rare as popping a surprise boner that would help remind me that life is still full of possibilities.

Ask me anything

"So Nick, tell me, have you ever drowned a goose?"

“So Nick, tell me, have you ever drowned a goose?”

By now I’ve had enough life experience that I know quite a lot, from how to sear a steak, to how to sear a skin-on chicken breast. By asking me questions you gain access to my impressive vault of knowledge, and I get to pretend you’re interviewing my for BIG GUYS magazine’s Steers Of The Year issue.

As per the previous request, I highly encourage you to ask personal questions because people take you more seriously when they think you’re nuts. For example, did you know I had a special Swiss Army knife made that has a popsicle stick with my favourite quote from Pulp Fiction burned into it, instead of the little saw?

Put yourself in my shoes for once


Just because I’m known as a positive smiler doesn’t mean I was born with bubblegum in my brain. My general mission is to make those around me as comfortable as possible all the time, which can get exhausting and probably explains why I’m such a demon during downtime (I yell at books if they’re not scary enough). Maybe if you felt pure Glenn coursing through your veins you’d hesitate before asking me to stay up really late.

The only way to truly become me would be through a very costly blood transfusion or VR avatar, so we’d best rely on the budget version which is to hang out and play truth or dare.

See you on the playground!