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They spell "Programme" the long way, so you know it's all class.In recent weeks, I’ve had the absolute pleasure of playing a supporting role in The Vine: Donkey Kong Audio Programme.   I must insist you have the absolute pleasure of listening to it.

Not into video games?  That’s okay, neither are the hosts.  Think of it as the legitimate front for crude but classy conversational comedy.  It’s a mammoth production, a huge labour of love, and brimming with the warmly familiar, silky-smooth voices of Rubber Chicken alumni.

Be warned: Emmy-winnng hosts Chad and Hyle are not the most tactful gentlemen, and tend to use masturbation jokes as punctuation.  You’ll hate yourself for laughing, but oh, you will laugh.

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I’m told the website you’re currently reading has an audio programme too.  It’s not ringing any bells, but I’ll look into it.



SpamArt: Postcards From The Internet

Posted on August 29th, 2009 by Paul Matijevic

FACT: In his daily tech support work for The Man, Tim encounters a huge volume of unintentionally hilarious spam subject headings.

FACT: The world has been a slightly less awesome place since Spamusement.com stopped posting its priceless visual interpretations of such spam titles, and will remain slightly less awesome until somebody picks up where it left off.

FACT: Paul “Ettin” Matijevic can sketch a mean stick figure.

CONCLUSION:



Wanna B N Angel

Posted on June 13th, 2008 by Gord Myren

A modern hip-hop ballad (like the kids like) about lofty career aspirations.
The closing song of Podcast 204 – The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Podcast

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Lyrics by Andrey Summers.  Music by Gord Myren.
Recorded by the Red Square Collective.

More songs from The Rubber Chicken Podcast

Lyrics after the jump

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Andrey: Here at whatchickenlist.gov, we are all about the environment. By this I am, of course, suggesting only that at any given moment we are in or near the environment, but I like to think that makes us an authority on the matter. Certainly as much of an authority as an arguably un-elected Presidential Candidate who at one time had no beard, then grew a beard, and then just shaved it off again.

If Al Gore can’t even decide what his own face looks like, how can he reliably perform plastic surgery on the face of our planet? This question is implicitly asked and tacitly answered by our own Alastair Robert Craig in a feature that he did not title The Unofficial Spice Girls Reunion Scrapbook. To find out what he really titled it, you’ll just have to Admit You’re A Spice Girls Fan. Just kidding. You can also Click Here.

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Dear Formless Underlord,

Last night, the galpal was, to put it bluntly, totally horny. Seriously. Like [DAMNED] rabbits that have sex SO MUCH. Thing is, she was all, “Henceforth!, thou shalt insert thine instrument of power into mine orifice of victory!”, and I was all, “The [DAMNED] you sayin’, [DAMNED]?” I totally love my girl, don’t get me wrong- But when she wants to, as they say on TV, “bump buoy” (As I tell myself, think about it and take it any way you want), she starts talking really crazy. All I want to hear is a normal “[DAMNED] me”, none of this Rennaissance [DAMNED]. How do I teach my woman the proper linguistics of love?

With much ado,
Deejay Zero-Gravity Orgasm.

HAIL MORTAL DEEJAY ZERO-GRAVI-ZERO-WHAT?
FIRST, INSECT, AN APOLOGY FOR THE CRIMSON CENSOR’S DAMNATION OF AN ENTIRE BRANCH OF YOUR LEXICON. UNDERSTAND: THE BORDERLESS SUFFERING IN THE REALM OF BURNING NIGHT IS BAD ENOUGH WITHOUT THE ADDED BURDEN OF YOUR CUSSING. NOW, HUMAN, YOUR ANSWER. CRAVE YOU SIMPLICITY IN YOUR OTHER’S COITAL SOLILOQUIES? THEN YOU YOURSELF MUST ASSUME THE MANTLE OF WORDSMITH. DEMAND THAT YOUR OTHER PROSTRATE HERSELF BEFORE YOU AND PREPARE FOR TORMENT UN-BELIEVED BY THE MULTITUDE AND UNHEARD BY YOUR SILENT GOD. SO DWARFED WILL BE HER MIND AND STILL HER HEART THAT VERILY SHALL YOU CARRY OUT YOUR DARK TASK IN SILENCE.

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Dear Formless Underlord,
My friend who happens to be a girl and I have known each other for 17 years. Over the course of a year, me and her have become very…close. Problem is that she doesn’t want to put out despite us knowing each other all our lives. What words of seduction would you recommend for me to whisper in her ear to get the piece of the pie?
Thanks,
lightjohn4

HAIL MORTAL LIGHTHOUSE!
SEVENTEEN OF YOUR AIMLESS EARTHLY “YEARS” AMOUNT ONLY TO THE LENGTH OF TIME IT TAKES FOR THE FESTERING WRETCH-SPAWN OF THE OX-SERPENT TO HEAVE A SINGLE, ANGUISHED, BREATH. PERHAPS IN HER MISGUIDED IGNORANCE YOUR OTHER CLINGS TO VIRGINITY AS THOUGH IT MEANT MORE THAN WHAT IT TRULY IS: A BIT OF DEAD SKIN ACTING ONLY AS FORESHADOWING OF YOUR GRIM, DUSTY, FUTURE. EXPLAIN THE ABOVE TO HER- PERHAPS USING THIS EXACT TERMINOLOGY – AND I AM CERTAIN THAT SOON YOU SHALL BE SERVICED AS YOUR WILL BEHOOVES.

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Dear Formless Underlord,

My boyfriend and I have been dating for almost a year now, and we’ve gotten pretty “close” in the “bedroom”, but we never seem to be able to go all the way. I’m his first girlfriend, and I know he’s very attracted to me…so what do I do to finally fire things up??

Lindsay

Hail Mortal Lindsay.

Do not concern yourself with “firing things up” during your worthless affairs of the flesh. All will be consumed by the black flame of the Crimson Kingdom in the course of the eternal star-scape. If you desire the fleeting communal pleasure that your Other refuses to grant, you may drive a dagger into his heart during the Rite of Baphomet, and this symbolic emasculation, as you enter him with your own deadly phallic symbol will banish his self-consciousness forever into the lightless ether. His body is yours.

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Stream of Consciousness

Posted on February 8th, 2005 by Andrey Summers

The story I’m trying to tell you if you’d just shut up and listen to me happened when I was riding my chopper down the I5 and got flagged over by a filthy degenerate who needed help jump-starting his junked out crack-van. I told him buddy, listen, this is a god-damned motorbike, but he said all he really needed to get on the road was some hot, casual intercourse. I said hell no, I’m not some kind of queer, so not until I see a passport, birth certificate or other form of legit identification. He, of course, was unable to produce such a document, so again I was left a virgin, weeping to myself on the roadside. How long, I wondered, until I would finally cast away these bitter shackles, forget these dark blizzards that struck every night of my hated innocence?

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Chad Surname is the MAN for YOU!

Posted on July 12th, 2004 by Andrey Summers

Hello, Ladies. If you’re like me, then you’re male, in which case stop reading now, but if you’re a single woman between the ages of 17 and 21, then perk up your ears and pluck out your eyebrows, because have I ever got a surprise for you.

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I’m going outside. I may be a while.

Posted on July 3rd, 2004 by Mr. Karl

I met Sally Phillips once. Bumped into her in a lingerie shop – she was buying nipple clamps and wanted help trying them out. First though, she gently carressed my supple, perfectly pert and rounded breasts. Never got to find out what happened next, I woke up and my next dream was about sharks.