November 06, 2012

Well, hi!

Sup dudes.

I'm working on TWO new posts. At the same time! If you thought I was on a roll last month (which, come on, I was), wait until you see what this month has in store.

Here's a preview from one of those upcoming posts:

10 points to whoever guesses the theme.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know what's going on here. Expect some (hopefully) hilarious posts soon. And if you're in the USA, you know what today is. So go do that thing people do on this day, because it's important.

October 31, 2012

Happy Halloween!

Hello. Today's post is in color. But please don't get used to that. It's not gonna happen again. Ever... Probably.

Anyway, Happy Halloween!

Boo.
We here at Aberrantly Errant (me and the ghosts, that is) really like Halloween a lot.

This year, I was Mugen from the anime Samurai Champloo. Here is a pic to prove it happened.

I told you, my hair, it's a perpetual mess.
And the ghosts dressed up as such:

Aren't they precious?
Which later turned into a murdering spree:

See? Precious. Aww.
The end. Now, if you'll excuse me, I promised the ghosts I'd take them to a seance at the cemetery.

Because Halloween's about honoring the dead, too. With candy!
*Note: I do not own Chris from Family Guy, Sailor Moon from Sailor Moon, or Old West Sheriffs from the Old West.

October 28, 2012

The Look

Out there, in the wild, wild world, there's a look people give that sends me to a very angry place. I've searched in vain for an actual factual picture of someone doing "the look", but alas, it's nowhere to be found. I'm not surprised; no one wants to be caught giving "the look". It's not at all flattering.

"The look" borders on disgust, but it's more than just plain old disgust. There's an element of surprise in it, too, not to mention the ever-so-subtle hint of poorly veiled anger.

So, for the first time ever on my blog, I'm going to post a real-life picture of my face giving the dreaded "the look" (I mean for there to be two thes there). It's the only way. I never wanted to do this, mind you, but for you all, my devoted readers, I've gotta make some sacrifices. This isn't easy for me.

...

... ...

... ... ...

... ... ... ...

*audible gulp*

Here you go, internet people:

I bear a striking resemblance to the late Bea Arthur, but with a beard.
Notice the awkward curvature of the mouth, which indicates the aforementioned disgust. Then, the eyebrows in the position that normally conveys skeptical surprise. And, of course, the eyes shaped to portray that ever-so-subtle hint of anger. That's "the look".

"When does one give 'the look', though?" you may think.

Well, "the look" comes up often, and most frequently when you've just said something to someone and they cannot believe that you're actually making noise at them. Usually, this is because the person doesn't like you for whatever reason. I usually get "the look" from strangers, and also many of my previous employers.

Here's a comic to show an example. Even though I've started including real photos of myself, I still gotta make comics because that's what my blog's about, you know? Now, to help, I'm gonna include Mrs. Sirmister, last seen in the post "The Trials of Getting a Job".


It's even worse to get "the look" from strangers. For me, it's usually because people are so astounded that this dark-skinned boy speaks such eloquent, unaccented English. 

However, I cannot claim to be an angel here, as I have also given "the look", numerous times. I can't help it. When I hear people say really stupid things, I have to give "the look". Like, the other day, this kid I tutor told me that he thinks The Beatles were a terrible band. I gave the kid "the look" without even thinking twice, voice-crackingly accompanied with an "Oh, really?". But then I had to continue on with the lesson before I quoted The Thnikkaman, which was a milestone in maturity for me because I usually would've quoted The Thnikkaman and subsequently gotten fired. So, yay me. 

I hate drawing stick figures with crossed arms.
To tie things up here, here's a short list of other times you may see "the look":

1. Mugshots.
2. On any "The Real Housewives of Place" show.
3. On any real housewife.
4. On this dog's face.
5. Most newborns.
6. Me, when seeing a picture of a newborn.
7. On Nancy Grace, all the time.

And what of you, dear readers? Do tell of your "the look" giving or receiving experiences.

October 17, 2012

The Animal I Hate the Most

And those mofos would be geese.
I fucking hate geese. Probably more than I hate hashtags and the way people drive when it's raining. Wait... less than I hate the way people drive when it's raining, but definitely more than I hate hashtags.

They live all around my house and cause a general disturbance (salute) of my daily life.

I normally love animals, all of them. And especially birds! Birds are the shit. But geese?! Fuck geese.

I hate their name. I hate the name of their young. I hate their color scheme. I hate their noise. I especially hate their noise at four in the morning when I'm trying to sleep so I can wake up and go to work, but they're right outside my window squorking up a cacophonous storm of pestilence.

I don't even need an alarm anymore.
I hate them when I'm finally awake and driving to work, but they're littered about the road, staring blankly at my car with their stupid faces, undaunted and unmoving and totally unlike any other freaking normal animal that would GTFO in the face of danger.

This happens daily.
"Well if you hate them so much, why don't you just run them over?" you may inquire.

Believe me, I'd love to. But cleaning goose guts off my car is not something I have the time or energy to do. DAILY. Because they, like most birds, live in groups. Ganders, right? Stupid fucking word. All words related to geese are stupid. And they all start with G. Even their shit, which is green. Real cute. Anyway, running one over would mean running, like, eighteen over, which believe me would be doing the world a service, but that is a fuckton of goose to be cleaning. 

The good and kind person inside of me (he's real, don't worry) prevents me from ending their meaningless existences, but next time I get the chance, I'm gonna kick one over like a pink lawn flamingo.

Because they're stupid.
I. Fucking. Hate. Geese.

October 14, 2012

The Strangest Search Keywords

Friends - I thank you for reading my blog. Or at least letting the page load.

I don't know how you all usually get here, but some people have most certainly been led here by mistake. At least three, anyway.


Sorry I'm not sorry.
You see, like any (most?) blog owner(s?), I like to look at my site's stats to see where the traffic is coming from, especially what search keywords people use to get here. It gives me a good idea of how to get more readers. Also I'm nosy. One day, last month, I was doing that exact thing, and saw... this.

This is why I hate humanity.


Now, first of all, none of the above have anything to do with my blog, except the one that is actually my blog's title. Thank you, 1 person. And I kind of understand some of the other ones since I've used pictures or captions that say that exact thing, like "I wish a motherfucker would" and "TGIF motherfuckers", which are actually both from "The 5 Levels of Being Pissed".

But, "not my period again"? And "pic of man with donuts on his cock"? WAT.
The "W" stands for "where".
It's my fault for posting the Drunken Donuts Guy story, as I know that that's the reason this person got routed to my blog. But honestly, who wants to see that? What kind of maligned and atrocious fetish is cock donuts?

And as for the not one, but two ladies (I hope ladies anyway) in dismay about their periods, I don't even know what to say. Get used to it, I guess?

But I'm not complaining. To me, it's just more readers. Well, hopefully. I mean, it makes me feel good inside to think that some confused girls were hoping for period advice and found my blog and ended up having a great day afterwards because of the lols. Lols are good for the soul, you know. And maybe, just maybe, that cock donut fetishist read the Drunken Donuts Guy story and got so incredibly disgusted (as I hope one would) that their fetish disappeared forever. Which makes me feel saintly.

"I sit and wait... does an angeeeel contemplate my faaaaate?"
 Anyway, that's the idealist in me. Most likely, all of those people loaded the page, saw that there was no period advice nor pictures of men with donuts on their cocks and promptly closed the tab to begin their search anew.

*Record scratch*

Well anyway, have a great day folks. And, you know, watch of for periods and strange fetishists.