You Are Driving Me Crazy. Literally.

Today I would like to make an entry into the never-ending saga of learning how to drive. Because this is based on first-hand experience, I just found a bunch of amusing photos that are car-related to intersperse. Honestly, who doesn’t like stories with pictures?

Clever. Courtesy of failblog.org

When I learned how to drive in the first place, it was on an automatic. Learning to drive is stressful enough; it is unquestionably easier to learn on an automatic than on a standard. Although Courtney and I are forever traumatized by the Safeway Driving School, and their unashamed overuse of “On the Road Again” by Willie Nelson, they actually taught a very apt method of driving that has saved me many accidents since then.

Into…tuh…tai chiing? No, ta-ching? Oh! Teaching! Um, based on his or her skill with abbreviations, I’m glad they are not my child’s teacher.

Overall, I think that learning to drive was pretty uneventful for me. Sure, there were the screeching stops that happen when you’re getting used to the brake pedal, and the scrapes that come when you’re learning to judge the space around turns and parking spaces, (that’s what old “learning” cars are for, right?) but I didn’t wreck the car or anything like that. The one thing I do remember that scared the living daylights out of me happened one Sunday morning as I was driving to church with my mom. It was just after a successful freeway run and I was feeling pretty good about myself while we were sitting in the left turn lane at a red light.

Yes, that cardboard sure does make your car look fancy! If you hadn’t told me that those rims were made of aluminum foil, I never would have guessed!

Waiting for the light to turn green, I heard a distant siren. I looked around, thinking that it must be coming from the busy street onto which I was waiting to turn. It was getting louder, but I didn’t see anything, so I shrugged (actually, I probably didn’t, but it makes a good image, doesn’t it?) and casually glanced in my rearview mirror only to see an ambulance charging toward my butt. It didn’t seem to care if I got out of the way or not; it was getting through that intersection. Did I mention that the light was still red? Oh, and there were a bunch of cars that were apparently operated by deaf people still whizzing through the intersection in the opposite direction. Here’s how the conversation played out between my mom and me:

Me: AAAAUAGHHWHATDOIDO,WHATDOIDO??!?!?
Mom: LEAN ON YOUR HORN AND JUST GO, GO!!!!!
Me: leaning on horn and turning, AAAAUGGHAIADASOFWPFJH!!!!!!

The ambulance went straight, and I’m proud to say that I didn’t run into anything. I’m just glad that I wasn’t driving a standard. You know that would be the moment you would stall a million times in a row.

Does anyone else remember Mr. Bean? I always thought it was hilarious that he locked his car like this, granted I was like 10…

Oh, you noticed that I brought up standard? Well, now I have one, and as is usually the case with complicated things, you have to learn how to work them before you can be trusted to use them alone.

I guess that’s one way to go green! Ba-dump, ch!

So, I got my car a few years ago during the summer; I suppose so that I could learn to drive it before I had to somehow get it from Texas to New York. I felt pretty stupid being back in the passenger seat due to my incapacity to drive my car. Now, my dad had mentioned several times that I could have an automatic if I wanted, but I thought that learning to drive a standard was a skill that I should know, and the only way I was going to learn was by actually owning one.

Whoa! Looks like someone can’t handle their peanuts! Someone get me the Epi-pen.

My parents were very helpful, and they didn’t even yell at me when I screwed up! I definitely heard that stalling “thump” about a million times in a row every day. Eventually, I got it down well enough to actually drive on real streets and everything! I still wasn’t perfect by any means.

Um, I don’t even…yeah.

One day, I conveniently decided to make cookies while I was home by myself. We even had all the ingredients! Except for chocolate chips. Of course the only car left to take to the store was mine, which I was still scared of, but I mustered up the courage and took my car to the store. For some reason, I thought that going to the Rice Epicurean (which is farther away than the Kroger) would be easier. Getting there was actually all right. I made it without stalling. I bought my chocolate chips, and, patting myself on the back, started up my car and made my merry way back to my house. Well, almost.

What, is there a bee in here or something? Where is that stupid Epi-pen??

I suppose I should mention that my street T’s into a fairly busy street, which means no stop signs for cross traffic, which means unprotected left-hand turn, which means bad things for someone who is still learning how to drive a standard, especially when there is traffic involved. Of course I got to that unprotected left pretty much exactly when the usual line of traffic had formed, blocking my left turn, and turning my first solo run from a successful one into a potential huge, fat failure.

Sitting there while a long line of cars started to form behind me, a nice person finally let me go. Of course letting me go and me actually going were two separate things entirely. I stalled. They stared at me like I had radioactive shrimp, who happened to be munching on cauliflower, coming out of my ears, and went on their way. The next person tried to let me go. I stalled, of course, (haven’t you figured out this is where this is going at this point?) and they too looked at me like I had mutant shellfish coming out of my nose. The third person let me go, and I stalled again (what, you’re surprised?) except this time that stall perched me directly in their path, so I had to go or else we were all going to sit in that exact location until the apocalypse came and sent robot penguins to vaporize everything they could, including us and our cars.

Thankfully for me, our street happens to have a slope at the end that worked to my advantage. I just clutched and was mercifully rolled onto my street where I could then start the car at my leisure, while everyone who had witnessed my little “show” were now staring at my car like it had rampaging bivalves coming out of its exhaust pipe. Yeah, I’m surprised I ever got back in the car too.

What's With That New-Fangled "Faceplant" Website All You Kids Are Using Nowadays?

I know I grew up in the computer age, so it should go without saying that I know my way around most electronics. I do know how to work most things like computers and cell phones, however, I most certainly do not know what to do if the computer breaks. This is unfortunate because I tend to break electronics. Not in the literal sense, of course, I’m not a violent person, but in the sense that I push the wrong button or open some program that should have been labeled, “Self-Destruct Function.” Then it won’t work, and I’m sad.

Despite this, when I am on the computer I can at least be secure in the knowledge that I can figure out how things work a lot more easily than most of the people who make up my parents’ generation. I guess the generations before them too. I have recently noticed a lot of conversations with my friends tend to include this topic. In terms of computers:

“My mom just got on Facebook. She keeps asking me if it will steal her credit card numbers. Seriously? I hope you’re not putting your credit card numbers on Facebook, Mom!”

What I’ve found is that the problems older generations face with technology tend to be really stupid. Things go wrong in a hilarious way when our parents and grandparents try to learn dumb tricks and slang that all “us kids” know. On Crazythingsparentssay.com,

Grandma: “WTF, way to go!!”
Me: “What do you think ‘WTF’ means?”
Grandma: “Wow That’s Fantastic…”

And about those dumb tricks? I think all of “us kids” can kind of understand. Remember when AIM came out and we figured out how to make emoticons with normal punctuation? Remember when chat rooms and programs actually made little colored pictures that would show up instead? We thought that was sooo cool, and now we hardly use them. Now that our parents are starting to text us and write on our walls, well you know where this is going…

Courtesy of Mymomisafob.com

*sigh*

And when they finally figure it out…

Courtesy of Nextround.net

Sometimes it’s about learning how to install or work a specific program. I always have to download something for my mom every time I go home, and then show her how to work it. I don’t mind. I just think it’s funny because she’ll forget a lot of it by the next time I come, and I have to show her all over again. Likewise:

“I put Skype on my dad’s computer and showed him how to use it. His first question? ‘Does the other person have to be on Skype at the same time to chat?’ Uh, it’s a video chat program, Dad. Yeah, they do.”

We decided it would be really funny if you left the chat window open accidently and came home to find your computer shouting, “HELLO! ARE YOU THERE??”

Recently, my mom couldn’t figure out how to make the windshield wiper fluid come out of her car, which she’s had for seven years. After watching the rear and front windshield wipers start to wildly flail around, and various liquids start squirting out of various parts of the car, she finally got it right. I suppose I shouldn’t laugh; once I was asked to take my dad’s car to the carwash. My best friend came along, and as soon as we pulled up to the employee we both realized that neither of us had spent enough time in the car to know where the power window buttons were.

Employee: rolling his eyes, *sigh*.
Us: “AHAHHHAHAGHGAHHAAA!!! HANG ON A SECOND!!! HAHAHAHAHAHHGAAHAH!!!” touching and pushing everything we could reach, hoping the magical panel of wonder would open and expose the power window buttons.

They were next to the gear shaft. I don’t know why.

I think the worst part of having to teach things to your parents has to be trying to explain things like they’re four years old, even though you know they aren’t stupid. That and trying to figure out how to tell them what some abbreviation means without getting in trouble:


Uh, it’s just not a very nice thing to say, Mom. Just don’t use it.

I say all this in good humor, since this will be me in 40 years. My great-grandmother never bought a microwave or dishwasher, and I think all of us tend to act like this as we age, though it is pretty cute, and awesome, when older people try to “get with the times.”

Sing, Sing a Song... On Second Thought, Please Shut Up

Sorry for the unintentional, temporary hiatus. Tonight I would like to turn the tables and focus on embarrassing myself. So, "Hi, my name is Shannon, and I enjoy singing in choirs." I'm in one right now, in fact, but we'll get to that a little later. First, a horribly embarrassing photo of myself in a kiddie choir, but it's so grainy that you can't tell which one is me. HA!


Let me break this photo down for you. I'm somewhere in the front row...with all the cartoon, bow tied freaks. Yeah, they really did make us wear polyester bow ties that competed with our 4-year-old heads in the size category. That was absolutely the worst part of these so-called "choir robes," however the "robe" part definitely added insult to injury (I swear at least one kid probably keeled over and hurt his head due to the weight of the bows. Did they have to add the tails? Aren't gigantic bow ties embarrassing enough?). It was basically a little "ghostie" costume made for an infant and somebody cut the heads off so you could see all our pretty faces. It was a little drape-y sheet that didn't reach past our hips with a hole for our heads...no arm holes or anything like that. Awesome. What a brilliant idea: let's put huge annoying things in front of 4-year-olds' faces. They won't pick at them or anything!

I would also like to point out the sad little youth choir up by the altar. They are wearing what I dubbed the "stinky gold robes." I named them that because they smelled bad. What a color! Why would you pick gold polyester? Maybe it was rayon. Are those the only two fabrics they make choir robes out of? They all feel terrible! When I was forced to wear these, years later, I was also ashamed of the shiny green yokes they put on us. Yeah, those things that look like neckties. Those were weird. Though we all got great amusement from rolling them up and letting them fall back down when we were waiting to go into the sanctuary.

Seriously, were our choir directors trying to make us look like the Heaven's Gate cult? Sure felt like that. One of the things I always took for granted, though, was the huge proportion of knowledgeable singers/music readers in most of my past choirs. Now I am with a volunteer choir that I feel is very good, but there are definitely a greater number of people who severely need help finding their notes, finding where to come in, and don't know how to sight read. Not that there's anything wrong with that, especially if you're not a musically inclined person. It's just not what I'm used to.

We had a concert this past weekend, and I had a solo (yay me!). It was kind of hokey, due to it being a patriotic concert, and the fact that we were playing with a concert band. I said hokey, not bad. I thought it was actually very good...until we hit the "Patriotic Sing-along." Yay. It was a medly of songs that most people know, and the audience was encouraged to sing along. I didn't know "Caissons Go Rolling Along," though I recognized the tune as soon as I heard it, and I think that's about it. My seat mate, on the other hand, pointed out three that she didn't know, one of which was was the Marine's Battle Hymn. I know the tune from Camp Longhorn where I went through their Marina program. The words, however are completely different.

When we got to that song, she dropped out, and I practically shouted, "FROM THE HALLS OF OUR CAMP MERIT STORE TO THE SHORES OF...I don't know the right words." Whoops. Every time we got to that point, I had to make a concerted effort to look at the words so that I didn't completely embarrass myself. So in the end, the concert went well, I didn't screw up, we didn't have to wear ghostie costumes with hideous bow ties, and none of us sounded like this:



Shout out to Florence Foster Jenkins, RIP.

Lost Your Garmin? I'm Not Sure Any of These Signs Will Help You

For today’s post, I’d like to revisit the world of stupid signs. Some are unintentionally hilarious due to poor phrasing, and some just don’t make sense. I think I’ll start with the poor phrasing:

Courtesy of failblog.org

And here I was under the impression that assisted suicide was illegal in most states! I was also unaware that worrying was deadly, barring a stroke or aneurism.

Courtesy of failblog.org

I’m thinking doing drugs is something that you would want to prevent middle school students from doing…but hey! What do I know? Maybe they are just passing out Ritalin to everybody in homeroom now.


Well! Now I’ve found the Taco Bell restaurant where I’m not going to eat! At least they’re giving all those little sh**s we all know jobs, perhaps it will better them…or they’ll figure out how to spit in peoples’ burritos. Sh**.

A turn towards the ridiculous, perchance?


Ah yes, the ubiquitous “Jesus is the answer” sign (why is this guy's sign in quotes?). Jesus can be the answer; I’m not denying this. If the question is, “who is a prohibitionist’s worst nightmare?” the answer would most likely be Jesus, due to the fact that he can turn water into wine whenever he pleases. Now, if the question is, “does the dog have water in his bowl?” or, “who invented the internet?” I’m betting the answer is most certainly not Jesus. Especially because Al Gore apparently invented the internet, along with global warming! Yay!

Keeping up with the religious theme:


Uh…thanks for your approval? Why I would need approval to be heterosexual from a billboard is beyond me. That’s like throwing money away on a billboard saying, “Do you like sandwiches? It’s ok…turn to God for your sandwich obsessive tendencies, especially because that makes you a complete freak. Seriously. You need help.” And besides, you’re supposed to be letting homosexuals know that it’s ok to be gay, oh wait, you’re a creepy mega-church. Never mind.


I’m guessing this was just created to include in driving tests for 16-year-olds, just to see if their heads would explode. That would be pretty cool…no, no; crazy teenager deaths are only cool in slasher flicks, or if they’re really annoying.


Yes, thank you; I think I can restrain myself.

To end, I’ve reserved two signs that will most certainly make you wonder whether you might have ingested some LSD before you read this post:


No, no, that’s not a baboon. That’s some form of antlered creature, and I have no idea what that would have to do with baboons at all. In this blog, we’ve already seen the “AAAAAAAHHHHH!!! BABOONS!!!!!!” sign guy was capable of putting his sign together and in the ground. At this point, however, literacy is apparently not a requirement to get a job with the African department of transportation anymore.

And finally, the piece de resistance:

Courtesy of corndogger.com

I don’t even know where to start. Just make sure that the only time you end up in this place, where the handicapped are magnetically attracted to the jaws of the alligators, is when you are there with one of your handicapped friends who just so happens to annoy the heck out of you.

Until next time, AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!! BABOONS!!!!!!!!!!!

Let's Go, Uh, Team! (Is That Supposed To Be Our Mascot? What IS It?)

Continuing with our previous mascot theme, tonight I would like to look at actual, physical mascots. Most people would automatically assume that this post will, therefore, be filled with sports mascots, since those seem to be the most prevalent form of fuzzy-costume-which-causes-its-wearer-to-pass-out. Well, you would be right, but I’ve found at least a couple that aren’t from sports! Literally. Actually, I did find three others, so ha! Let’s get started!

First, an actual animal!


You would think the name of the team would be The Grizzlies, or something in that vein, but no; this bear is a mascot for The Jazz… *crickets* Yeah….that makes a LOT of sense. I don’t know about you, but I’ve always thought of bears as Jazz fans (both the musical style and the sports team). I’m a big fan of the headband that seems to be crushing the bear’s eyeballs.

How about another animal?


Um, well I would almost go so far as to say that this is the absolute least frightening mascot that anyone has ever come up with. Did I mention that this is the representative of the Indiana Pacers? Hmmm, Pacers → ugly stupid dog?? Maybe they’re trying to represent their team name literally… with a scrappy, retarded dog that would most definitely have to pace himself during even the most mundane tasks. His name’s Bowser, as if his life weren’t miserable enough already.

Well, it’s not like this next guy’s name is any better, though I can’t find any correlation between his name and his personality. His name’s Dinger…


…and he looks fairly flamboyant, not stupid like his name would imply. He doesn’t actually get constantly beaned by baseballs. I’m not quite sure what the multi-colored, polka dot knee pads are for; though I’m not quite sure how he keeps his hat on either. As you can see from the picture, he’s the mascot for the Colorado Rockies, because when I think of mountains, the first thing that comes to mind is a dinosaur.

On to the ridiculous!


Well. I think he’s drunk! Why else would his eyes look like that while his mouth hung gaping open, readily drooling. Apparently “Radar” is the mascot for some football team in Arkansas called The Tornadoes. I have not been able to find any team named this located in Arkansas, so I am forced to conclude that he is simply due to a bad acid trip. How else would you explain the bad Elmo wig? Since I don’t know what he is, I’m quite confused as to why he has horns as well.


I don’t think they give “Phanatics” drivers’ licenses. I’m pretty sure those are reserved for humans who don’t look like they spit baseballs out for a living. Is that white thing in his mouth supposed to be a tongue? Look, I know the Phillies were trying to make the best of the fact that their mascot is completely uncreative, name-wise, but trying to invent the craziest monster anyone has ever seen is just distracting to the actual baseball game. The entire time, people are totally going to be staring at this thing, mouths agape, and thinking, “what the heck?”

At least he’s better than this thing:


I was unaware that basketballs turned green when set on fire. Why you would place that emblem as your mascot’s nose is beyond me, though I like how they try to convey “fire” with sparkly tendrils on his head and scabby, burned palms. To add insult to injury, this poor soul, who is constantly in flames, is named Burnie.

Finally, three actual corporate mascots like I promised, yay!


OH YEAH!!! Though I do feel sorry for the unnamed soda, whose costume apparently has no way to see, I had nightmares of the Kool-Aid guy busting through my wall when I was young. Shame on you for associating with that, soda!


I’m not sure how this manic depressive paintbrush is supposed to promote The Home Depot, I mean I know he’s forcing a smile, but the eyes say it all. Y’know, someone ought to find this guy a new stylist; maybe a new hairdo could up his self esteem a bit!

To end the night, the Chase Suite Hotel Guy:


Seriously. It’s a sun that’s sprouted arms and legs, dressed in a western get-up, complete with stars, and wearing both a sombrero (you know that’s what it is because it says “amigo” on it) and superhero boots. I don’t know why this is supposed to make you want to stay in their hotel. It kind of made my eyeballs throw up actually. I think I can honestly say that this terrifies me more than the pedophile version of Ronald McDonald, and that says a lot.

Now, try to go to sleep while imagining that thing standing next to your bed, staring at you.

I Thought Marketing Campaigns Were Supposed to Make People Want to Buy Stuff

When you’re trying to market something like a brand or product, what’s one of the first ideas that pops into your mind? A mascot. Something recognizable as a brand representative. Unfortunately for many cereals, sports teams, and other kinds of food items, they have hired ad agencies that willingly employ drug addicts. I was always under the impression that mascots were supposed to entice you to buy things, not terrify you to the depths of your soul, but then again, as these guys will tell you, most cartoons and things of that nature are evil. This can only mean that mascots are also evil.



Of course he’s from Texas! Like we don’t already have enough crazies giving us a bad name. Also, why would a parent name his child “Phil Phillips?” I know these people could probably find examples of the occult in the Care Bears, but look at their “proof”: Scooby Doo and He-Man. These shows revolve around paranormal activity! Sadly, the only reason any cartoon has occult influences at all is that their creators have been doing a lot of LSD, and the concept for the show just seemed like a good idea at the time. Somehow, I don’t see Phil going into a toy store as a strange thing. He gives off that kind of creepy vibe. And, Phil? By purchasing said toy you’re just supporting our evil occult overlords whose main goal in life is destroying our childrens’ immortal souls.

Speaking of LSD, how much sense does it make to advertise your business with a clown when there is a huge percentage of the population that is utterly petrified by clowns. Especially if your “clown” looks like this:



Drunk, colorblind hobo suddenly comes to mind for some reason. You know, I would find the nearest hat (or tray filled with fast food) if someone butchered my hair like that too, but that doesn’t explain the disposable cup nose. Makeup: horrible. Outfit: horrible. Why would you embarrass him by putting him on skates when it’s obvious he can’t do it? Also, introducing yourself doesn’t make you NOT a stranger. Now you’re a creepy stranger who’s trying to convince kids to trust him by handing out free hamburgers. Remember how you’re not supposed to take candy from strangers, kids? I’m pretty sure the same applies to hamburgers. Am I the only one who noticed that he managed to get the kid to push him by the butt at the end?

We all know they revamped Ronald, quite possibly trying to make him less creepy. Now his outfit is more psychotic and we have a national clown mascot that looks like he scalped Raggedy Ann for his hairdo. Oh, they also gave him sidekicks who were obviously conjured up on a bad acid trip.



I don’t think I can say anything to add to that.

Food mascots aren’t limited to fast food, they also have mascots for cereal, like Count Chocula:


Aah! I didn’t really remember him being that scary! And, hey, you want to give your kids a good reason to not eat his sugar-bomb cereal? Point out the fact that he only has one tooth left, quite possibly from eating too much of his own creation. Besides that, he just looks completely deranged, and I can’t tell if he’s wearing a weird hat or if his hair is actually made up of latex. Next?


This would be the Crazy Craving from Honeycomb cereal. It’s not that he makes me not want to buy Honeycomb cereal; it goes way beyond not wanting their product. He scares me so badly that he makes me want to run, screaming, to the nearest pawn shop, steal a shotgun, and then run, screaming, back so I can shoot it in the face, thereby keeping mankind safe from this monster.

They’ve also come up with mascots to try to promote more healthful food.


the Big Fig Newton

Dan | MySpace Video

I think someone got a little confused by the whole “drag queen” concept. That, or he mistakenly wandered into the audition that happened to be next door to the drag convention and the casting director thought he was too good to pass up. They obviously threw him in the…fig?... garlic?...suit right then and filmed without bothering to take off his makeup. It makes him look pretty, right?

Ok, so you’ve gotten kids to eat fruit cookies, how about real fruit?



That’s the complete opposite of the correct way to get kids to eat fruit. You didn’t think about the fact that kids are scared of monsters, did you? Hey, kids: eat your fruit and eat it fast or you might accidentally drop it and the monster living inside will come out and eat you! So, to recap: kids will run screaming from oranges for fear of the monster, they won’t want to eat it for fear of eating the monster, and they will be scarred for life from ever touching an orange again. If they manage to get past the terrifying-ness, you’ve also turned them into label whores. Good job.

Well, I’m now too nauseated to eat, and I’m going to have nightmares about that orange monster. Or Ronald…I hope the rest of you fare better tonight.

A Face Only a Mother Could Love...If It Had a Paper Bag Over It

You know how we don’t kill baby creatures because they’re cute? Even though they can easily make us want to strangle them by chewing up our shoes, clawing on our furniture, or putting Sharpie masterpieces on our walls, we don’t because all baby creatures are adorable and inexplicably know how to do that cute pitiful face that gets them off the hook. I’m not too sure how any of these creatures survived childhood:

Most people buy fish to look pretty. Or to have a cheap, easy pet, but either way one requirement is generally that the fish be cute or attractive. Take the betta fish for example:


Sure, he looks a little grumpy, but in a cute way! And look at those little hand-fins! When I had a betta, his cute little hand fins were so expressive! He would swim up to the front of his bowl every time I walked in the room and his little fins would… you totally don’t care. Anyway, I am most certainly not still hung up on my fish who died like six years ago!

I seriously doubt I would have such fond memories of this next fish. In fact, it’s so unfortunately ugly that the scientists who named it just called it the first thing that came to mind, quite possibly because they couldn’t stand to look at it anymore. It’s name?


The blobfish. It even has a pitifully sad frown genetically planted on its face for eternity. I think the most unfortunate part of this pathetic creature’s existence is that it looks how the comic strip character Ziggy would look if he got himself addicted to Meth and then had all the bones in his face removed.

Next up, I know I’ve mentioned how much I despise monkeys, but they ended up being a pretty good example, so here, fine, I found a picture of a monkey that I actually find somewhat cute; cute in the way that I still think it’s going to eat my face off, but I would at least touch this one with a 10-foot pole instead of a 50-foot one.


Cute little features, big puppy eyes, shiny, fluffy fur, what else could you want (besides wanting it to be something other than a monkey)? I know what you’re thinking: you probably find most monkeys ugly, what are you really going to pick to be on this list? I find most monkeys cute. I think you’ll agree with me on this one:


Wow… that’s quite the…. look. Apparently the proboscis monkeys did not get the memo that the discolored toupee and gigantic honking schnozz look is not too popular anymore. To add insult to injury, “proboscis” actually means an “elongated appendage from the head of an animal.” They named this poor monkey for his enormously embarrassing nose. He knows we’re laughing at him, look at his depressed expression. He has given up on life because he can hear your laughter. You should be ashamed! Now go find a reputable plastic surgeon and make an appointment for this primate pronto!

Next up, a duck! My mom had a duck when she was growing up. I always wanted one. They are so cute, it almost makes you want to barf!


AAAWWWWWWW!!!!! How could you not want to pick it up and squeeze it to death, Lenny-style? They’re so soft, and they cheep! If you get one though, just pray to a higher power that it doesn’t turn into this:


AAHH! It’s like the complete opposite of the ugly duckling story. One day you’re an adorable fuzzy little duckling, the next, you wake up to find calloused red splotches covering your face, and an impressive mohawk/comb-over/mullet that any ‘80s country star would be envious of. I know I ended a sentence with a preposition, so sue me!

Now, I know that whenever you think of “cute,” the first image that pops into your mind may not be a mole, but…


LOOK HOW CUTE!!! I know his toes are kinda big, but I’m more than willing to overlook that little quirk in order to snuggle with this little fuzzy wuzzy baby!

How on earth could you make this creature look terrifying?


Oh, like that! This would be a naked mole rat. Yes, they made him hairless and wrinkled, gave him buckteeth, and not only called him “naked,” but also called him a “rat,” as if that’s a bad thing. For reference, rats are actually cute:


See? Cute! This is how most people think of rats, however:


You know, minus the topcoat, cape, and slicked back hair. I’ve never seen a rat with shoes either, but people tend to picture rats as evil, disgusting creatures, like the one above. As I’ve just shown, they’re not, so it’s not only a misnomer, but an insulting one for both parties involved. Also, did they have to go and point out the fact that he’s naked? It’s just like that monkey with the stupid nose! I think the naked mole rat just needs to get a new publicist. Whoever convinced people that wrinkly, hairless cats are not only cool, but an acceptable pet would do the mole rats a great service. Also, they should be given an award for turning ugly into a horribly expensive pet. Seriously, hairless cats will cost you like thousands of dollars.

Finally, I will leave you tonight with a picture that will not only shock you to your very core, but give you nightmares for the rest of your life. Seriously. It looks like a cross between a bat, a cheap pleather jacket, the world’s ugliest dog, pure, unadulterated evil, something with tentacles that also has arthritis, and an old, toothless monkey. It’s called the aye aye. Awesome.


I dare you to close your eyes and not picture this thing scratching off your ears. While giggling maniacally. I’m surprised that dude’s hand didn’t immediately burst into flames simply by touching that thing. Sweet dreams!