Welcome to Earth, Please Kill Us All

Well I never like to say "I told you so," but...

I TOLD YOU SO!!!

Feast your bloodshot eyes on this article, ripped straight from CNN.com:

Mutant bacteria next threat from Mir? - Forget the danger of heavy debris raining down from space when Russia sends the Mir space station to a watery grave this month -- the real threat could be mutant fungi, a researcher said Tuesday. Yuri Karash, an expert on the Russian space program, said there was a possibility microorganisms that have spent the last 15 years mutating in isolation aboard Mir, could present a threat if they survived the fall to Earth.

Wow, doesn't this sound strangely familiar to a news post I wrote around four months ago warning you, the general public, of the imminent threat resulting from alien microbes of death? Of course it does! However, I would really feel guilty gloating over my stunningly accurate prediction of such a disastrous occurrence, as mankind will undoubtedly perish due to the incoming Mir germs of doom. Nah, screw that, I'm perfectly happy gloating.

I TOLD YOU SO!!!

All smug and self-centered feelings behind, I'd like to address the issue that Russian scientists raised after stealing content directly from my website. According to Yuri Karash, an expert on the Russian space program, some of the alien microbes inhabiting the Mir give off corrosive agents such as acetic acid and release toxins into the air, placing them into the same classification as Bud Light. So later this month, when yet another hunk of Russian garbage falls from the sky into the ocean, we'll have a new threat on our hands, the Mir Death Virus. I think we can pretty much assume that we're all going to experience slow, painful, agonizing deaths from this alien bacteria, so I'd like to share a short list of things you can do to prevent getting your flesh stripped off my the Mir Death Virus.

Wear lots of green clothing. As shown in many popular cartoons and video games, people who are sick turn a rather grotesque shade of green. By donning various green outfits, you will be able to trick the Deadly Space Virus of Doom into thinking you're already sick, and they won't bother attempting to infect you. If you want to really be on the safe side, make casual comments to random people around you, such as, "boy, I've been feeling really crappy ever since I caught that horrible Mir Virus last week!" and "don't worry about giving me that terrible virus which vaporizes metal because I already have it!"

Hire a full-time sanitizer who sprays Windex all over everything you might possibly touch or eat, thus killing all the deadly microbes. Window cleaner may taste "odd" at first, but you learn to live with the taste after a few months, assuming you don't die in the process. If you do end up dying, that's just one less thing to worry about.

Don't walk around that much. The more you move and fidget around, the more germs that land on your skin and begin to infect you. If possible, wrap yourself in plastic wrap whenever moving somewhere, as germs are afraid of plastic and won't be able to eat through your flesh and turn you into a lump of skin pudding.

Change your underwear at least 17 times a day. Germs like to breed in warm, moist areas, such as the crotchal area, and switching underwear about once every hour you're awake is the most efficient way to catch the germs offguard. Do not touch or handle the used underwear in any way; simply douse it with lighter fluid, drop a match, and run away shrieking like a schoolgirl. You can try "psyching out" the germs by staring intently at your current pair of underwear and warning, "you're next, you bastards," but they don't take very well to threats. Plus your boss will probably fire you if you're seen staring at your underwear all day.

Since alcohol is known for killing germs, you should make drinking a high priority. Stock up on vodka, gin, Everclear, and anything else which has a warning from the surgeon general on the outside of it, helpfully advising that consumption could cause pregnant women to give birth to the spawn of Satan. Keep drinking until you start projectile vomiting, as puking is simply your body's way of expelling all the germs from inside it. The more vomit, the better.

I hope these tips help you fight off the inevitable plague of deadly space spores from hell. If they don't, well, prepare for the worst. While your frail body is being eaten alive by deadly Mir microbes from outer space, keep this in mind:

I TOLD YOU SO!!!

Cliff Cliff Cliff!

This just in: CLIFF YABLONSKI HATES ME!

From: cliff y.
Subject: IM GOING TO BASH IN YOUR SKULL WITH A WRENCH

WHY DIDNT YOU POST MY UPDATE ON MONDAY YOU WORTHLESS SHIT? JUST FOR THAT, IM UPPING YOUR DAILY ASSKICKING TO 6 TIMES THIS WEEKEND. YOUD BETTER POST IT TODAY OR YOURE GOING TO BE ANOTHER STIFF IN THE GODDAMN RIVER, PUBICHEAD.

CLIFF

That was very odd... I didn't even think Cliff knew how to operate the caps lock key. Oh well, be sure to check out the latest five pages of people Cliff hates (besides me).

Embrace Dick

The ROM Pit has been updated with a brand-spankin' new review of another horror, Nintendo's "Dick Tracy." Ugh.

Lookout Big Boy, Dick's on the job! I cruised the boulevards in my little patrol car with sirens running nonstop (to be extra inconspicuous), and found myself in an eerie wasteland seemingly devoid of life. Then, out of nowhere, my car was under attack by a barrage of tiny dots. Flashing madly with the damage, I sped towards the source in a gallant attempt to put a stop to it, only to find a tiny green man perched atop a roof with a sniper rifle. I soon found out that the entire town must have been replaced with similar alien beings, which were all hell-bent on destroying my beautiful ride. Tiny green blotches, which I assumed to be blobs of pixels, turned out to be tiny blobs of pixels that shot more pixels at me. What's worse is that they did so from all the rooftops of all the buildings!

Honestly, what could you expect from Bandai, who made some of the worst trash for Nintendo? Read it and weep.

Taco On Tape

Taco the Wonderdog, SA's only hosted dog of the wonder variety, has created a whole bunch of new mp3s on his site. As far as I can tell, roughly 145% of them are simply some crazed lunatic screaming into a microphone while somebody breaks things in the foreground. Don't let me ruin the surprise for you though; see for yourself.

– Rich "Lowtax" Kyanka (@lowtax)

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