Monday, March 30, 2009
What makes you so great, Unicorn? It just seems like you are a horse with some superglue, big fucking deal. Oh you're on posters all over the walls of pre-teen girls? Seriously, Unicorn, how's that working out for Corey Haim? And the fact that you can neutralize poison with your horn, DOESN'T GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO ONLY EXIST IN DREAMS.
By the way, the director's cut of Blade Runner? Were you only in that because of some contractual obligation? It made no sense, Unicorn. You need to have a serious conversation with your agent.
Posted by bza at 6:11 AM
Thursday, March 26, 2009
We place a lot of blame on the animals on this blog, and yeah, this dude has his tail curled up over his body and he's fitting on the top of a rose which basically makes me want to JUMP UP AND DOWN AND RUN INTO THE STREET WAVING A GUN SHOUTING "IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS."
But the truth is the dormouse didn't fall asleep in the rose, he was put there by the photographer, a person he thought was his friend. They were having a late night hanging out, and the dormouse had a little too much to drink and fell asleep. At first the other guys were doing stupid shit like putting Cheetos all over him and putting his hand in warm water so he would wet the bed, but then this one dude came up with the idea to curl up his tail and sit him in the middle of a rose. Now he's an internet sensation, and next month he is going on the market for a ladyfriend. Do you really think with stuff like this out there, it's going to be easy to find someone who respects him?
Not cool, photographer. Not fucking cool.
Posted by bza at 5:49 AM
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Oh, Tapir. Tapir, Tapir, Tapir. I can't possibly imagine what could be funny enough to forget that you are a giant pound of grayish black blubber with a cone head and a nose with nostrils so large if you zoom in on them they look like a monkey's face. So you must be smiling like that because you think it's going to make me like you.
Well, Tapir, it's not going to work on me. Not today, NOT EVER. So stop following me with your nose, Tapir, PREHENSILE NOSES ARE FOR ELEPHANTS. Talk to me when you can conceive of altruism and make paintings, asshole.
Posted by bza at 6:14 AM
Friday, March 20, 2009
Who do you think you are, Wallaby, a fucking kangaroo? And guess what, asshole, PIGMENT IS NOT OPTIONAL. I don't know what gives you the nerve to hop over here and plop your fat ass down for everyone to see, but you better hop back to whatever pre-existence paint shop you came from and step into the modern day. Marsupials have long utilized everything from light brown to gray, so join the fucking party.
You also literally have large balls, BUT THAT IS UNRELATED TO YOUR BRAZEN DISREGARD FOR THE SOCIAL MORES OF POLITE SOCIETY.
Posted by bza at 6:31 AM
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Honestly, Axolotl, if you don't stop existing right now, I'm going to tear my eyes out and then eat them, in the hope that this would somehow be so traumatic that I would never have to think about you ever again. You might finally put the whole intelligent design argument to rest. (Does anyone really want to think about God doing acid?) On the other hand, I can't possibly think of an evolutionary reason for you to look so ridiculous, you amphibious motherfucker. Are you trying to blend into a Keith Haring painting?
Just because you have a weird looking smiley face where a normal face should be doesn't mean I'm gonna ignore the fact that you can't even metamorphosize your crazy ass. EPIC EVOLUTIONARY FAIL, AXOLOTL. Maybe you should think a little less about creeping people the fuck out and a little more about stimulating your thyroid. You probably make the best argument ever to stay out of the water. I'll take my quarter of the earth's surface, Axolotl, now leave me the fuck alone.
Posted by bza at 5:43 AM
Monday, March 16, 2009
AHHHHHHGH. There is a long-haired donkey, and it's named the baudet de poitou? Ho. Lee. Shit. How can there only be 400 of you cute little fuckers!?! This is a serious problem, seeing as I personally need 400 of you. You better find a mate and start knocking boots, Donkey, so you can start sprouting up like American Apparels. I don't understand how you can be such prudes, seeing as you are French. What, are you saving yourself for the right donkey? YOU AREN'T WEARING A FUCKING PROMISE RING, ARE YOU DONKEY? BECAUSE I AM GOING TO BE SERIOUSLY UPSET. Anyway, stop being so picky, you're a donkey. This is serious business, Donkey. Make it happen.
Posted by bza at 6:29 AM
Friday, March 13, 2009
I had a thought last night, Baby Elephant, and it involved you pulling out all the stops to get me on your side. That thought was that I hate you, Baby Elephant. All you do is stand in your African shangri-la with your trunk and your ears and your little baby elephant smile, and I'm just supposed to sit here in my crumbling empire and take it. It seems like you aren't alone, either, as baby animals everywhere are really taking a turn for the worse. Well guess what, Baby Elephant, I'm not going to let you use the fact that you are a minor as an excuse for your shitty behavior. I know you think you're a star but put the fucking ears away, YOU AREN'T DUMBO, BABY ELEPHANT. If you are going to act like a hardened criminal, it's time you learn the cold hard truths of the world.
And yeah, I know you thought you could get away with it because I already did elephants, but fuck you, they're my rules and I can break them whenever the fuck I want.
P.S. Don't even think about growing up to be friends with a dog, you cynical media whore. And if you do, and the dog gets a spinal cord injury, WALK AWAY.
Posted by bza at 5:16 AM
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Oh man, what is this thing? A binturong? THAT NAME IS HILARIOUS!!! Wait, wait, it's also called a bearcat? I love bears, AND I love cats! Oh, wow, you're sleeping... Who's a cute little bearcat? You are, that's who, yes you adora-
What. The. Fuck. Binturong? What's up? I was trying to have a good time. Why do you have to scare the shit out of me? You need to calm down, Binturong, rethink what's going on here. Just 'cause you have a bushy tail and you are named after two all-time animals doesn't mean you can sleep like a cute little bastard and have babies named fucking bintlets (BINTLETS I TELL YOU) and no one will care that you are a fucking psychopath. There are two sides of the animal world, Binturong. You need to pick one.
Posted by bza at 9:00 AM
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Very clever, Porcupine. You want me to catch you, don't you? You might have cute little teeth and a furry belly, but you've got giant quills all over your back, and if I come any closer, I'm going to be in a world of pain unmatched even by what your little porcupine paws are doing to me. You're all "Oh jeez, I can't hold on here much longer, please, don't let me fall and hurt myself." But I'M all "Fuck you, Porcupine."
So nice try, asshole. I'm just going to wait over here. I'm not even going to call the fire department to get you down and knit a trampoline for you to fall onto in case they don't get here in time and also gather some leaves and fruit for you to munch on when you get down because you are probably going to be hungry. Suck on that.
Posted by bza at 8:11 AM
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Hey Baby Flamingo, where did you get those giant ass legs, THE OVERSIZED LEG DEPARTMENT.
Wait, hold on. This doesn't feel right.
Baby Flamingo, your legs are really just too big. I mean, there's comically big, and then there's ridiculous. Here I am, trying to tell you off and make the world a better place, but those legs are so giant and you look so ridiculously helpless because of them that you are practically telling yourself off. And then what did you think? "This isn't enough, I need to stand next to a grown-up flamingo, but only so that you can see its still comical but entirely acceptable long pink leg." WHAT HAPPENED TO THE HAPPY MEDIUM, FLAMINGO. I bet you would still be driving around in a Hummer if your legs would even allow you to fit inside a car, much less drive one. Well you can't have my Hummer, Baby Flamingo, and I certainly won't be adding you as a co-author to my blog, you spotlight-hogging asshole.
Posted by bza at 9:36 AM
Monday, March 9, 2009
(AP) Long relegated to the portion of consumers that were interested in blue animals, dolphins have finally made their move to take over the other half of the Cetacean market share. Introduced in the waters near Louisiana and expected to spread out into oceans nationwide throughout the year, a pink fucking dolphin made its debut last week.
"Until now, we've really only fit in boys' rooms and accessorizing with us has been extremely limited," said one power-hungry dolphin who doesn't care who gets hurt. "This is really our best opportunity to spread into the Hello, Kitty market, and perhaps even find a new generation of dolphin fans." Taking a monopolistic page from Microsoft, the dolphins have been packaging a free pink dolphin in with every blue dolphin, as seen in the photo attached.
As of press time, the dolphins' heavily focus-grouped plan seems to be working, as the legendary blog/lifestyle "Fuck You, Penguin" has reported receiving hundreds of emails about this rosy asshole. "If I see one more fucking pink dolphin, I'm going to flip out," said site creator/saintlike philanthropist bza. "They are so beautiful, and yet so rare, they make me want to stop showering and go on tour with them, and I don't have time to do that because my work is too important and I don't know how to hippy dance."
But there's still one demographic that has yet to absorb the impact of this development, and that's the children. Bill McNeal, an expert on the psychological impact of cute animal abuse on defenseless fucking children at The Fake Institute (TFI), has begun immediate studies, funded in large part by FUP t-shirt profits. "So far, the children are fine," said McNeal, "but the long-term effects must be examined over the coming years before these pink bastards can be cleared of all wrongdoing.
"Though," he added, "no one really thinks that's a possibility."
Friday, March 6, 2009
Ostrich, seriously, I am not taken in by your "crazy guy" look with the fuzzy hair and the silly grin. You are like the late era Robin Williams of birds. YOU HAVE NO EDGE, OSTRICH, STICK TO THE MIDDLING DRAMAS ABOUT MENTORS AND SADNESS.
But, alas, the ostrich will never know that its days have come and gone. Similar to the grandfather that makes terrible jokes that no one finds funny, but people laugh at them to not make him feel bad, ostriches walk around like they are the funniest damn thing since camels, and everybody goes along with it because they could literally slice open your entire fucking body. The best thing to do when an ostrich like this one approaches you and is all "Do you believe my legs and neck are so long, but my body is like a big ball? I mean, it's totally out of control!!" is to be like "Ha, yeah! It is pretty funny," but if he gives you one of these, quickly follow it up with, "But, you know, you really are very dignified," and then drop to the ground, cover your head and neck, and hope they don't stand on you for too long.
Posted by bza at 7:01 AM
Thursday, March 5, 2009
I just want you people to drink in this world-class douchebag known as the Tibetan Fox. Have you ever seen such a holier-than-thou fucking look on a non-dolphin before? I'm not one for slapping foxes, as I generally think they know what they've done, but this one really has that look, like the asshole boyfriend of the girl the main guy wants in an 80s movie. Unsurprisingly, he is extremely rare. That's probably because he thinks if he has too many babies, some of them will turn out to be commoners and he wouldn't be able to show his square face at the country club anymore.
How's your ivory tower, Tibetan Fox? I'm sure it must be terribly stressful to stand in judgment of the rest of us little people, so why don't you just retire to your cabin and play lacrosse? You know what, on second thought, WHY DON'T YOU WANDER THE DESERT LOOKING FOR RODENTS. Some of us have to work for a living, Tibetan Fox. We don't get everything handed to us by a lifetime of hunting and scavenging, you stuck-up snob.
Posted by bza at 8:25 AM
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
I see you eyeing me, Armadillo, and I have to say I don't care for it. It's not that weird for me to be interested, YOU ARE AN ARMADILLO IN A BUCKET. Did you think this kind of thing would go unchallenged? The truth of the matter is, armadillos should never be in buckets. We've all seen you out there rolling yourself into a ball, digging holes, and dancing on the internet. An armadillo has to do what an armadillo has to do. But there's no reason you should pop out of that bucket, with your little nose and your big ears and those paws and give me a big stink eye, like, "Yeah, that's right, I'm an armadillo, and I'm inside your fucking bucket." All I have to say is you better get right out of that bucket, Armadillo, and get the HELL out of my face. Your days of weird-looking intimidation are semi-over, Armadillo.
Posted by bza at 7:22 AM
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
I know this guy looks like he's been around for a while and he knows what he's talking about, but DO NOT TAKE FINANCIAL ADVICE FROM HIM. First of all, the viscacha is not a rabbit, it's a rodent, which takes him down a peg or two in terms of ability to really see what's going on from a broad perspective and think in terms of long-term solvency. Second, those whiskers come included with every member of the species, so he's really not as wise as he seems.
Quite frankly, Viscacha, I don't care how many times they let you on CNBC, you have no idea what you are talking about. I'm not going to "take this opportunity during the downturn to invest in grass." AND THANKS FOR THAT HOT TIP ON CIRCUIT CITY, MORON, THEY REALLY DID TURN IT AROUND, DIDN'T THEY? You'll be hearing from my attorney, Viscacha.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Oh, wow, stellar performance there, hot shot. I forgot how people are always saying "You have got to go to the aquarium to hear the music, they are really tearing shit up over there." Next stop, the Times Square subway station, right? Okay now, don't even tell me you think you can play saxophone, Walrus. Last time I checked you needed distinguishable digits to use the keys, asshole.
And dude, you have got to calm down a little bit. You might want to stay for the rest of the show. Do you see dolphins or whales playing instruments? No, they just jump up out of the ocean and get fish. Instant gratification, Walrus. No need to act like the ugly girl, you have a mustache and little tusks. You are hilarious! I mean, Jesus Christ, Walrus, INSTEAD OF HANDS YOU HAVE FLIPPERS. Start respecting yourself, and people will start respecting you.
Posted by bza at 6:59 AM