Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Are you fucking kidding me, Tortoise? You are so lazy you can't get up and go see what's going on over there? You don't think someone else is going to take pity on you and just tell you what it is, do you? Because it sure as shit isn't going be this guy. And you know, Tortoise, just because you are like three thousand years old doesn't mean you shouldn't use some lotion once in a while. That neck looks like a petrified tree trunk, and not in a good way. MOISTURIZE, TORTOISE.
Posted by bza at 2:12 PM
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
This is a puppy I briefly housed at Fuck You, Penguin headquarters. Her name was Lexington, she peed on my bed, chewed a hole in my shower curtain, and licked my face when I wasn't looking. I loved her so.
But then she left me when her old family came back from vacation. And that's fine. Because you know what, Puppy? I have met another puppy since you've been gone. Actually, I've met a large number of puppies. And I've played with all of them. Sometimes more than one at the same time. In fact, just the other day I was cuddling with a puppy, thinking "This is so much better than that time I was cuddling with Lexi. Thank goodness she gave me back my freedom."
I've moved on, Puppy. I've grown. I'm no longer that same inexperienced puppysitter you met on that warm August day. So don't come crawling back to me, Puppy. Don't even fucking think about it.
Unless you want to. Then I'm sure we can work something out.
Posted by bza at 11:23 AM
Okay, you're little, you've got soft pretty feathers, and there's a small little drop of water perched at the end of your beak. But guess what, Duck? YOUR GOD HAS DESERTED YOU. Ponder that, bitch.
Posted by bza at 7:48 AM
Monday, November 24, 2008
Honestly, Pony, I don't know what little girls see in you. You just seem like a donkey that needs a haircut. I have no interest in including you on Fuck You, Penguin - wait. Is that a dog? Is there a dog riding you? ARE YOU THAT FUCKING DESPERATE, PONY.
Fine, here's your goddamned post. But don't come crying to me when that dog expects 50% of the credit.
Posted by bza at 8:08 AM
Sunday, November 23, 2008
So here I am looking at pictures of llamas online, because who doesn't love llamas, right? (Penguins, those jealous fucks.) And what do I come across but an article about this older llama that died in 2006, making the zoo where it was very sad. The llama's name was Chief, and it had a severe colic reaction, WHICH TOTALLY FUCKING RUINED MY SUNDAY.
At least move back to Peru or something, so we can imagine you frolicking forever. Funny looking mouths come with a responsibility to not play with our emotions.
So thanks a lot, Llama, you heartless fucking bastard.
Posted by bza at 6:48 PM
Friday, November 21, 2008
Just because you have your mouth opened like that doesn't mean I can't see those giant needles on your entire body ready to impale me, Hedgehog. You think I'm afraid, but I also don't want to hurt you because you're too cute, right? Well, you know what, Hedgehog? You cross me, in ANY way, and I WILL NOT HESITATE TO DESTROY YOU. Believe that, Hedgehog. Now watch your fucking step.
Posted by bza at 7:18 AM
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Holy shit, Koala. I didn't realize you were POSING FOR A FUCKING ALBUM COVER FROM THE 1970S. I bet all the songs would be about eucalyptus, seeing as that's all you can eat, you non-omnivorous little shit. Why don't you get down off your tree trunk and act like a normal animal, or are you too good for us? Get lost, Koala. My mind didn't even want to comprehend your cute little existence anyway.
Posted by bza at 9:54 AM
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
What is going on inside those cheeks, Chipmunk? I know you've got something in there, because I KNOW you aren't doing a Marlon Brando impression. YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO MARLON BRANDO IS BECAUSE YOU ARE JUST A FUCKING CHIPMUNK. And close your mouth while you are eating, no one wants to see your chewed up whatever. Jesus Christ, Chipmunk. Manners.
Posted by bza at 9:21 AM
Monday, November 17, 2008
Oh my god, Dolphin, you smug little shit. What is with that smile? You think just because you can recognize yourself in a mirror you can go around acting like your shit doesn't smell? (It smells, right?) You need to wipe that smile off your face, Dolphin, or I'm going to come in there, have a religious-like experience swimming with you, and then wipe it off for you.
Posted by bza at 8:51 AM
Thursday, November 13, 2008
I'm on to you, Manatee. Just because you are arguably the ugliest animal on the planet does not allow you to be so GODDAMNED cute. What's with the stubby fins and the giant nose? That's just wrong, Manatee. And lose some weight, for crying out loud. You look like a sea cow. STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT.
Posted by bza at 7:32 AM
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Attention people who have access to Pandas. YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT KIND OF POWER YOU POSSESS. You are like a child that stumbles upon one of the rings from lord of the rings, only instead of a ring it is a FUCKING PANDA. Keep all pandas away from toys and other human objects like cars, hats, and exercise machines. If not, you will be held fully responsible for the damage they inflict.
Oh yeah, and fuck you, Panda.
Posted by bza at 9:51 AM
Monday, November 10, 2008
Those better be giant fingers, Monkeys. Or you're in real trouble. I'll let you go this time. But if I don't see some article somewhere about a giant 50-foot-tall man going around holding monkeys in his fingers, I'm coming for you, and guess what? HUGGING MY THUMB WILL ONLY GET YOU SO FAR.
Posted by bza at 12:03 PM
Monkey, I've got something to say, and it's about you biting that bar, and it's not going to be pretty.
You know, Monkey, if you had just sat there, like a normal monkey, you would have been cute enough. Hell, you could have even fallen on your back and put all of your arms and legs up in the air, and I would have been fine with it. But biting that bar? Fuck you. Just. Fuck. You.
Posted by bza at 7:26 AM
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
You know what, Giraffe? You think just because you kind of look like a horse, but have a giant neck and these two weird things between your ears that I have no idea what they are, that you can just get away with coming up to my second story window and eating my toast. But you are WRONG Giraffe. DEAD FUCKING WRONG.
Okay, maybe you can have my toast. But don't you FUCKING DARE touch my banana, Giraffe. You've been warned.
Posted by bza at 8:02 PM
Monday, November 3, 2008
I'm on to you, otter. You can't speak, so why are you putting your fins up to your mouth as if you want to focus your screaming on someone far away? ANSWER THE QUESTION OTTER! There's only one explanation here. You want my heart to melt into a puddle of water. Well, it's not going to work, otter. So you can go to hell.
Posted by bza at 12:58 PM