Sock It To Crockett!Great Wall of Dr. DoomNext pageArchive

Now that is some creepy stuff…
Look at that cute little critter!
Happy New Year, everybody!
Lock your doors this 2012, because the axe-wielding Lunar Man-Beasts are coming. And you don’t want them in your house — believe me!
Sing along with Barksy McFakearms this Christmas!
There’s Yuletide symbolism behind this, I know there is…
(via BuzzFeed)
What the hell was Yo Yo Ma doing last night?
(via BuzzFeed)
A long time ago during a gas leak far, far away…

Well now I know what Satan does on his downtime; he kicks back in his chair, drinks from a goblet of fine wine, and listens to these heads’ incessant (yet melodious) pleas for freedom. In which he just laughs and revels in the fact that freedom is just one of the many things they will never have. This is simply what popped into my head when I watched it. Your visualization might be different from mine.

(via Videogum)

I can understand using a UV light to look for bed bugs or fleas, but if you honestly can’t see a damn scorpion without it, I think there’s a bit of a problem…
And scorpions? Pests? Hardly.
It’s like a weird, incoherent Disney fever dream, isn’t it? Good night, Tumblr…
"Look, guys, I don’t care what the hell you do or where you do it, but you can’t do that here!"
A new pantheon of heroes for Eternia: Jerk-Off Man and the Masturbaters of the Universe!

There was once a time in comic book history (the 60s perhaps) when a little girl or boy could send their hard earned money to some seedy, unethical primate distributor and receive a pet squirrel monkey of their own for the low, low price of $19.95 (or even lower in some cases).

Okay, sending away for monkeys of the sea variety or ants for your ant farm is understandable, but I can’t (and don’t) want to imagine a tiny monkey cooped up in a box for like a week, screaming bloody murder from the postman’s bag.

I wonder if any actually busted out of their cardboard prisons, only to raise hell at the post office and bite up a few workers in the process. I can just imagine postal workers in bell bottom pants and side burns fleeing in unbridled terror - so not groovy!

Why does this remind me of some crappy contraption Donatello would invent for the rest of the Ninja Turtles only for it to blow up spreading cheese and sauce everywhere with Michelangelo saying something along the lines of “waste not, want not, dudes”?

where is your god now?  画