|Comments on Sunday 19 June 2005:|
|5 years after All Your Base Belonged To Us in song, it does so again, Bohemian Rhapsody style.|
In other news, the stupidest news ('Teleporting' over the internet) since ChatNannies (this page will redirect to an 'expired' after it loads the story, annoyingly). Coincidentally, this time the absurd nonexistant technology advance apparently involves the use of giant nanobots, amongst other nonexistant technology, instead of using magical nannybots. If you're inclined to believe either of those stories, you might also be interested to know that master hypnotist and big fat liar Derren Brown can put people into a catatonic state using a video game and about 6 flashes from the screen in order to play a hilarious zombie-game prank in the real world without the victim being an actor at all, and also I can sell you the Brooklyn Bridge for $5000 if you like. All of you. I have one for each of my readers. [13:13]
|Gah I wonder if they ever considered using the all your bases link to get the prisoners at guantanamo to say where bin laden is. True torture.|
|I don't have $5000. *Stifels laugh*|
Derren Brown may be an absurdist; he may be a liar, but he essentially isn't fat. Charlie was fat. Brown is not fat.
Brown is not fat.
|So was your repetition of 'brown' intended to cause me to associate Derren Brown with poo, or is that just an amusing incidental effect?|
|Yes, I was controlling your mind into a poo-associative state. It's subtle Ericksonian tricksies like that that will eventually give me all of your hair. Do do that for me.|
Also, Baron Brown may be able to control minds, but he has to have a poo like everyone else. Unimpressive.
|You don't trick me with your 'Baron'. He has no 'von' in his name, so can't really be a titleholder.|
I bet his poo is like other poo, really, rather than like people.
|He has a title. It is 'Mister'. I am not going to take you up on your bet either, since it sounds a very safe one.|
Now for a poem:
Derren Brown, how do you do
Those hypno-tricks and not get sued?
I think fibs are more your style,
As was the case on Jersey Isle,
When you said you'd use live rounds
And later, they were blanks, we found.
Still, I suppose it's all forgivable;
A decent way to pay the bills.
The morning after the night before
You'll be behind the toilet door,
Making defecation sounds
And forming more of Derren's browns.