Jim Jacobson's Home Page, submitted by Cthulu. Noooooooooooo! Okay, give me a second to regain my composure on this one. Ahem... Jim Jacobson is the biggest sack of excrement on this planet and he has made a web page for you to visit if you want to make yourself suicidal. This is, bar none, the noisiest web site ever. EVER. He has three midi tracks that you can play all at once (highly recommended), and then, while they are chirping along in the background, you can head to his "Karaoke" section and hit play on all of the tracks. THEN SING THE FUCK ALONG!!!
You really should consider upgrading to a Macintosh! Choose from 3 background music selections while you review the latest news & weather, check stock quotes, do searches, read the Ken Starr Report and link to great Macintosh sites. You can also sing along with the Karaoke Of The Month, take the Poll and enter the Contest of the Week, view Shockwave, animated GIFs, QuickTime Virtual Reality and RealVideo, see Java in action, hear text-to-speech talking, use Internet utilities (ping, traceroute, whois, finger), view my updated daily Web Server Statistics, see what happened On This Day In History, View the Quote of the Moment and more.
Oh no, he knows that I'm not using a Macintosh! He is evil and can sense me through the walls, like a dolphin! Luckily for us all, this site has a great need to crash frequently, making the pain come to a screeching halt.
Mister Jacobson also seems to collect all those parasitic web awards; I think he has received every shitball award possible. Every shitball award except one that is: THE CLIFF YABLONSKI APPROVES AWARD. Mister Jacobson can get the award graphic for his award's page here or the alternate version here. This site has given me a deep insight into the nature of Cliff Yablonski. HEY CLIFF, WHERE DO YOU KEEP YOUR FUCKING BATS?!?
Oh yeah, and the goober has a guestbook, I would link to it direct but he has a sassy (read: fucking stupid) script running that returns you to the home page. Have fun assholes.
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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