You know that statistic that if you put a gun in bum you’re 98% more likely to be shot in the ass that someone who doesn’t….or something like that…well this guy obviously threw caution to the wind and stuck it up there anyway, for thrills or for simple storage isn’t exactly clear.
He could be one of those pro-gun nuts that has fetishised gun ownership to the point that he likes to be penetrated by firearms or he could have unwittingly been being used as a human silencer/smuggling device/manchurian candidate by a second party who at some point would subtly stick their hand into his ass and start pumping lead into an unsuspecting crowd.
Either way this person strikes me as a “I’ll give you my gun when you pry it from my cold, dead ass” kind of guy.
Spotted by Jonathan Buckmaster
There are so many charities these days sometimes it’s hard to keep track of what you’re donating to. Did you just drop your money into a collection to save the tiger or to shoot the tiger? Are you donating to an organisation that is helping street kids or that is enslaving them to work in some kind of Temple of Doom-esque mine? Frankly, who can be bothered to check anymore.
When I saw this photo my interest in charity was awoken again. The pooper people need your help London. I’m not sure what exactly they need our help with but it sounds urgent. As a cause it might not be a particularly easy sell to people. It lacks the cute/dying kids/animals angle that other charities exploit so well…and it’s about poop which traditionally people don’t like to discuss (except of course in that bemusing new “Do your scrunch or fold?” toilet paper campaign). Plus, and this is just a suggestion, I think their branding could do with a little work.
Spotted by Peter Blackwell
I love it when you see a newspaper headline so arresting that it slaps you about the face and takes you a few seconds to actually process what you’ve just read. This headline has it all, tragedy, obesity and sky diving, the holy triumvirate. It’s the kind of story that only comes along once in a journalists career. This manages to be both funny and deeply sad simultaneously. It’s such an improbable collection of words to see together on a headline board that it’s easy to forget that this represents something that happened to a real person in what was almost certainly quite an upsetting experience for somebody already under a cloud of grief. There are organs of mine that have just aged 5 years just by restraining my impulse to laugh at this but my conscience (that do gooding, butter-wouldn’t-melt swine) is telling me I shouldn’t, I’m worried enough about the state of my soul as it is.
Rarely have I felt so torn.
Spotted by Tim Gee
Year in, year out it’s the same old problem….what to get Mum for Mother’s Day. Flowers are a given but do you make a card or just buy one? A homemade card surely shows more appreciation of everything your Mum has done for you, right? Turns out that this isn’t the no brainer it seems. One year my Mum seemed genuinely disappointed to get a shop bought card from me so the next year I made her one instead. She opened the envelope to reveal a homemade card bearing a coloured pencil drawing of daffodils or something equally innocuous and declared “What’s this…you couldn’t have bought me a card?” I was crestfallen and rightfully confused. This is a true story. I was seven.
This year I’m thinking that I might follow Boot’s the Chemist’s advice and present her with a sexual wellbeing gift basket of assorted condoms, lubricants and pleasure enhancers just to see what the hell she has to say about that.
Spotted by Bryon Chan
Whilst the country has collectively been losing their shit over the horse meat scandal this shockingly brazen product has somehow managed to slip under the radar. In the case of the horse meat the trail of blame for the questionably sourced fodder led all the way to Romania where horses outnumber people by about 1000 to 1…probably (either way they have enough unclaimed dobbins mooching about that they get afford to grind them up and sell them as cut price flesh gravel to the rest of Europe) In this case however it looks like the trail leads right out of the realm of reality and into Middle Earth itself. Has our insatiable lust for meat really led us to the point that we are now consuming fantasy creatures from much loved alternate universes? What the hell is next?! Am I going to buy what I think is Octopus only to later discover that I’m munching on grilled Sarlacc instead? Is that remarkably cheap meatball actually made from illegally sourced Hippogriff? And that kebab you had last night, guess what, pure unicorn that was.
It’s outrageous. I’m outraged.
Spotted by Patrick Dalton