April 28, 2012
A reputable firm.
Source

A reputable firm.

Source

5:04pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZMMjnxKVPznn
  
Filed under: pics satire 
April 27, 2012
Surely his imprisoners will taste the imprimatur of retribution when they take egress from their mortal coil.
George Takei

Surely his imprisoners will taste the imprimatur of retribution when they take egress from their mortal coil.

George Takei

11:33am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZMMjnxKQEj7X
  
Filed under: pics satire 
April 20, 2012
"Theodore heard of Youth Lagoon before Max. Max heard of them after Cindy, but Cindy heard of them before Don. Who’s the bigger asshole?"

McSweeney’s: Hipster Logic Problems

Wracked verily with hearty guffaws.

h/t Utne reader

3:48pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZMMjnxJ_NxlY
  
Filed under: satire 
April 3, 2012

So this guy is basically my hero.

TDW

12:05am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZMMjnxI-WlzH
  
Filed under: satire 
March 15, 2012
Why I Am Leaving The Empire, By Darth Vader

TODAY is my last day at the Empire.

After almost 12 years, first as a summer intern, then in the Death Star and now in London, I believe I have worked here long enough to understand the trajectory of its culture, its people and its massive, genocidal space machines. And I can honestly say that the environment now is as toxic and destructive as I have ever seen it.

To put the problem in the simplest terms, throttling people with your mind continues to be sidelined in the way the firm operates and thinks about making people dead.

The Empire is one of the galaxy’s largest and most important oppressive regimes and it is too integral to galactic murder to continue to act this way. The firm has veered so far from the place I joined right out of Yoda College that I can no longer in good conscience point menacingly and say that I identify with what it stands for.

For more than a decade I recruited and mentored candidates, some of whom were my secret children, through our gruelling interview process. In 2006 I managed the summer intern program in detecting strange disturbances in the Force for the 80 younglings who made the cut.

I knew it was time to leave when I realised I could no longer speak to these students inside their heads and tell them what a great place this was to work.

How did we get here? The Empire changed the way it thought about leadership. Leadership used to be about ideas, setting an example and killing your former mentor with a light sabre. Today, if you make enough money you will be promoted into a position of influence, even if you have a disturbing lack of faith.

What are three quick ways to become a leader? a) Execute on the firm’s ‘axes’, which is Empire-speak for persuading your clients to invest in ‘prime-quality’ residential building plots on Alderaan that don’t exist and have not existed since we blew it up. b) ‘Hunt Elephants’. In English: get your clients - some of whom are sophisticated, and some of whom aren’t - to tempt their friends to Cloud City and then betray them. c) Hand over rebel smugglers to an incredibly fat gangster.

When I was a first-year analyst I didn’t know where the bathroom was, or how to tie my shoelaces telepathically. I was taught to be concerned with learning the ropes, finding out what a protocol droid was and putting my helmet on properly 
so people could not see my badly damaged head. 

My proudest moments in life - the pod race, being lured over to the Dark Side and winning a bronze medal for mind control ping-pong at the Midi-Chlorian Games - known as the Jedi Olympics - have all come through hard work, with no shortcuts.

The Empire today has become too much about shortcuts and not enough about remote strangulation. It just doesn’t feel right to me anymore.

I hope this can be a wake-up call. Make killing people in terrifying and unstoppable ways the focal point of your business again. Without it you will not exist. Weed out the morally bankrupt people, no matter how much non-existent Alderaan real estate they sell. And get the culture right again, so people want to make millions of voices cry out in terror before being suddenly silenced.

LTMC: Goldman Sachs may have been hurt by Greg Smith’s op-ed, but how can we trust the Sith now?

March 5, 2012
My Student Loan Repayment Plan

5:06pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZMMjnxHX5gAz
  
Filed under: science satire asteroid 
February 24, 2012
I think “the Paralysis of Analysis” is my favorite, followed closely by Suburban Malaise and Urban Ennui.
Source

I think “the Paralysis of Analysis” is my favorite, followed closely by Suburban Malaise and Urban Ennui.

Source

11:52am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZMMjnxGyPJSO
  
Filed under: pics satire 
February 22, 2012
Sexual Innuendo For Lawyers, Ctd.

squashed replied to your postSexual Innuendo For Lawyers

Adverse possession of the boyfriend is when you let the boyfriend dance with somebody for 21 consecutive songs openly, notoriously, and under claim of right. After that? Any titular interest you had is gone.

Any longer and it would violate the Rule Against Perpetuities.

February 22, 2012
Sexual Innuendo For Lawyers

Studying the law, I have noticed that this profession is more amenable to sex jokes and innuendo than any other allegedly respectable vocation. There’s no way someone didn’t plan this.

Adult film titles are just far too easy:

“Fiduciary Booty”  ?

“Assportation 3: Felonious intent”  ?

“Firm Offers 2: 3 months later”  ?

“Motion in Limine: The Final Order”  ? ?

Situational comedy is trivial:

“what’s wrong, jessica?”

“That bitch just adversely possessed my boyfriend on the dance floor!”

“Wow. Looks like he’s got a springing executory interest.” ? ?

And pick-up lines roll right off the tongue:

Hey babe, why don’t you grant me an easement on that booty, and maybe later I’ll let you trespass inside my curtilage. ?  ?

There’s no way this wasn’t intentional.  Someone planned this.  It’s just way too easy.


February 1, 2012
McSweeney's: In Which I Fix My Girlfriend's Grandparents' WiFi And Am Hailed As A Conquering Hero

This has actually happened to me…including the blood-red lightning and murder of crows blackening the sky:

Lo, in the twilight days of the second year of the second decade of the third millennium did a great darkness descend over the wireless internet connectivity of the people of 276 Ferndale Street in the North-Central lands of Iowa. For many years, the gentlefolk of these lands basked in a wireless network overflowing with speed and ample internet, flowing like a river into their Compaq Presario. Many happy days did the people spend checking Hotmail and reading USAToday.com.

But then one gray morning did Internet Explorer 6 no longer load The Google. Refresh was clicked, again and again, but still did Internet Explorer 6 not load The Google. Perhaps The Google was broken, the people thought, but then The Yahoo too did not load. Nor did Hotmail. Nor USAToday.com. The land was thrown into panic. Internet Explorer 6 was minimized then maximized. The Compaq Presario was unplugged then plugged back in. The old mouse was brought out and plugged in beside the new mouse. Still, The Google did not load.

Some in the kingdom thought the cause of the darkness must be the Router. Little was known of the Router, legend told it had been installed behind the recliner long ago by a shadowy organization known as Comcast. Others in the kingdom believed it was brought by a distant cousin many feasts ago. Concluding the trouble must lie deep within the microchips, the people of 276 Fernadale Street did despair and resign themselves to defeat.

But with the dawn of the feast of Christmas did a beacon of hope manifest itself upon the inky horizon. Riding in upon a teal Ford Focus came a great warrior, a suitor of the gentlefolks’ granddaughter. Word had spread through the kingdom that this warrior worked with computers and perhaps even knew the true nature of the Router.

The people did beseech the warrior to aid them. They were a simple people, capable only of rewarding him with gratitude and a larger-than-normal serving of Jell-O salad. The warrior considered the possible battles before him. While others may have shirked the duties, forcing the good people of Ferndale Street to prostrate themselves before the tyrants of Comcast, Linksys, and Geek Squad, the warrior could not chill his heart to these depths. He accepted the quest and strode bravely across the beige shag carpet of the living room.

Deep, deep behind the recliner did the warrior crawl, over great mountains ofNational Geographicmagazines and deep chasms ofTV Guides. At last he reached a gnarled thicket of cords, a terrifying knot of gray and white and black and blue threatening to ensnare all who ventured further. The warrior charged ahead. Weaker men would have lost their minds in the madness: telephone cords plugged into Ethernet jacks, AC adapters plugged into phone jacks, a loneVGAcable wrapped in a firm knot around an Ethernet cord. But the warrior bested the thicket, ripping away the vestigial cords and swiftly untangling the deadly trap.

And at last the warrior arrived at the Router. It was a dusty black box with an array of shimmering green lights, blinking on and off, as if to taunt him to come any further. The warrior swiftly maneuvered to the rear of the router and verified what he had feared, what he had heard whispered in his ear from spirits beyond: all the cords were securely in place.

The warrior closed his eyes, summoning the power of his ancestors, long departed but watchful still. And then with the echoing beep of his digital watch, he moved with deadly speed, wrapping his battle-hardened hands around the power cord at the back of the Router. 

Gripping it tightly, he pulled with all his force, dislodging the cord from the Router. The heavens roared. The earth wailed. The green lights turned off. Silently the warrior counted. One. Two. Three. And just as swiftly, the warrior plugged the cord back into the router. Great crashes of blood-red lightning boomed overhead. Murders of crows blackened the skies. The Power light came on solid green. The seas rolled. TheWLANlight blinked on. The forests ignited. A dark fog rolled over the land and suddenly all was silent. The warrior stared at the Internet light, waiting, waiting. And then, as the world around him seemed all but dead, the Internet light began to blink.

The warrior darted out back over the mountains ofNational Geographicmagazines and made haste to the Compaq Presario. He woke up Windows XP from sleep mode and deftly defeated twelve notifications to update Norton AntiVirus. With a resounding click he opened Internet Explorer 6 and gazed deep into its depths, past the Yahoo toolbar, theMSNtoolbar, the Ask.com toolbar, and theAOLtoolbar. And then did he see, at long last, that The Google did load.

And so the good people of the kingdom were delighted and did heap laurels and Jell-O salad at the warrior’s feet, for now again they could have their Hotmail as the wireless internet did flow freely to their Compaq Presario. The warrior ate his Jell-O salad, thanked the gentlefolk, and then went to the basement because the TiVo was doing something weird with theVCR.

11:04am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZMMjnxFjLFB2
  
Filed under: satire 
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