Truly pathetic attempts at humour

[Enrico Palazzo]

https://twitter.com/DennisDMZ/status/1003034135395356673

That's a particularly egregious example, but every 'joke' he posts is just dogshit. Weird, considering he's an SNL alumnus.

The first couple of responses to that are quite amusing.

[The Lion King]

Anyone who can say this has never read one of Philippe's fun facts, or has no joy in their hearts.

I've only just realised (through thinking "Hear Comes A Special Boy!" to myself) that Philliipe is what Derke may have been like, had Derke not been created by a Gervais.

Yea man I love Achewood. I wasn't really aware of it when it was really popular (was it ever?) because I'd checked out a few strips here and there without really knowing the context of ongoing plot lines. It works best to binge it all from the start, like a very still HBO series. I enjoyed spending hours in the evenings eating crisps and reading it from the beginning. Roastbeef's reaction to Pat's new six pack great because you know the characters so well.

[idunnosomename]

That's clunkier than Robbie the Robot falling down a metal staircase and hitting a floor which is also made out of metal. #DennisMillerOption

[Hobo With A Shit Pun]

It works best to binge it all from the start, like a very still HBO series.

Agree totally: I read the first decade of them in a single sitting. It helped that I was chronically depressed.

[Dannyhood91]

https://www.facebook.com/helphelensmash/videos/1159481967547176/

[saltysnacks]

You could almost say that his joke is as pathetic as the informal but much more common definition of the word pathetic, that which is miserably inadequate, rather than arousing any kind of pity.

[Bhazor]

https://twitter.com/DennisDMZ/status/1003034135395356673

That's a particularly egregious example, but every 'joke' he posts is just dogshit. Weird, considering he's an SNL alumnus.

Now he's writing for Breitbart. A truly baffling piece of I don't even know what

"I'll have an absinthe, hold the sweet fennel as I'm right on the brink of Ketosis," said 24-year old Earnest Hemingway to Jules Valar, his server-person-human who was currently transitioning gender-wise and also from back of house to front of house.

Jules/Julie scribbled the order onto zie/hir/Two Spirit hemp Beaver Brand memo pad, making a mental note to purchase a less incendiary notebook when the next EBT card arrived.

Valar (sorry, less familiar but easier on this writer) enjoyed the position at the recently rechristened "Cafe Au Lait" on Rue St. Rue the Day. Until a month ago known as "Café Olé," it was then forced to rebrand after charges of cultural appropriation.

Hemingway eyed the "Bearnaise Is Death" poster on the door of the pansexual W.C. before shifting his gaze to the tabletop placard warning patrons about capricious use of the Heimlich Come-On.

He would soon carpool in a hybrid horse-drawn carriage (Appaloosa/Shetland for idling) to Montmartre to join Fitzgerald, Stein, Toklas, and Pound for a Smart Water or twelve — that is, if Pound could hurry through his hearing at the Academy of Weights and Measures where he was to show cause as to why he should not have to alter his surname to be in line with recent metrics issued by the "higher-ups" in Brussels.

He wondered if Scott had made any headway on his new tome, The Not Really Any Better Than Any Other Gatsby, and if he would bring Zelda. Z was currently in the dairy-free soup for tweeting out some anti-Christian, anti-gay, anti-everyoneexceptZelda sentiments on a half-dozen shadow Twitter accounts. She was also very involved in the Parisian #moiaussi movement.

Stein and Toklas would be late as they were picketing Milo (yes...weirdly that one) at the Sorbonne. The gals had hired a quick twitch charcoal caricaturist to accompany them and chronicle any overreach by the local gendarmerie during the protest.

After drinks, they were all heading over to the Shakespeare and Company bookstore that was hosting a humorist night where there were to be no punchlines. (BTW are there ever any punchlines with French comedians?)

They would discuss their upcoming plans to head to Pamplona and shut down the running of the bulls next year. Last year's breakout session ended disastrously when the requisite goatskin of red wine was passed around and everyone demurred because there was a general consensus that tannins made them flatulent and thus CO2 villains.

Unanimously conceding that length rather than quality of life was the thing, les miserables all crowded back into Victor's Yugo for the long drive home to Paris, "The City of LED Light."

Earnest swirled his neutered absinthe and mulled the loss of the rough draft (the draft no doubt due to the windows in their walk-up not being caulked to code) of his new novel The Daughter Also Rises. It had been lost by his wife on a visit to Gstaad where she left it in the sitting room of their green hotel where their housekeeper/planet warrior shredded and folded it into the compost heap, replacing the Christmas fir in the lobby of the hotel. I repeat, that's Christmas "fir," not "fur." One has to be cautious.

He craved a Gitane, then remembered the nearest smoking area was four blocks over and two blocks down. In the sewers.

He perused an article in Le/La Monde about a group of student activists who felt the Eiffel Tower resembled a massive oil derrick. They were being triggered and wanted to shut it down because it gave them a mal de tete. They were also demanding a lower co-pay on the Laudanum they would require to quell the throbbing in their prematurely greying temples.

Hemingway was not really all that shocked by the student's complaint. He had worked as a Safe Space Lifeguard on the Seine the previous summer. He was expected to jump in and save the kids drowning in their own bul... uh, let's say facts. He then had a faint memory of a time of yore when Gay Paree... oops... when Paris was known for wine, not whine.

His reverie was broken by Valar, who approached the table and asked if Earnest was ready to order. "Are the escargot locally sourced?" EH asked earnestly.

"Oui."

"Then I'll have the escargot to start. Do you have any extra lean beef?" He now made a conscious effort to no longer order marbled steak with his frites. He felt it fat shamed the heifer who quite unfairly gave its life for his repast.

"Oui."

"D'accord... then the steak frites... and a kombucha... if that indeed exists at this point in history."

[Ferris]

That is awful, a real slog to get through and there's no payoff.

[Shaky]

That is truly embarrassing. An actual human adult male with a public platform wrote that. Christ alive.

I liked him in Bordello of Blood, mind you.

[jfjnpxmy]

My fascination with the shit adverts in Viz will be the death of me. I have signed up for TALES OF THE BRITISH WRESTLERS. I have listened to Aqua Velvas hit "Snowshoes Thompson". I have ordered a Powerball. I am already well tall, or I'd be having me a set of secret height shoes. I am seriously considering a Brennan JB7 oh wait that's Private Eye.

Anyway.

http://www.therakeandherald.tv/ is a regular advertiser n the Viz, and it is not good. A 2001-style content aggregator, each item liberally splattered with some boring chuffer's attempts at irreverent comedy. Occasionally he tries for profound, and instead lands squarely in "yer dad's boring mate that corners you at a barbecue and keeps sneaking peeks at your sister's cleavage". And the occasional mystifying video where he murders a couple of jokes and then shows you footage of himself wandering around various boring suburban areas.

The whole thing seems to be an attempt to pimp the t-shirt shop, and that is where the real head-clutchingly grim shite lies. Topical cracks at hipsters, snowflakes and mbas. A recurring obsession with oversized green eyes. Desperate attempts to make spanners be a Thing. Oof, it's just dire.

Still, my Powerball is pretty cool. Even if I dunno what it's for.

[Famous Mortimer]

https://twitter.com/DennisDMZ/status/1003034135395356673

That's a particularly egregious example, but every 'joke' he posts is just dogshit. Weird, considering he's an SNL alumnus.

He's like Lee Hurst, in that once he steered into his (no doubt there all along) right-wing views, he completely forgot how to be funny.

The people burning his non-jokes are way funnier than he is.

[Twed]

All I know him from is Space Ghost, where he was a big nothing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-I56g9UEnY

I really really love the sarcastic laughter just after the 9 minute mark.

[yesitsme]

Aplogies for breathing life back in to this thread but I was looking for that George and Lynne spoof that's been mentioned on here a few times.  Far from being a TPaaH it's hilarious but I can't find it on the intornets.

Do any of you have a link?

I'm genuinely asking for a friend.

Ubbs!

[Chriddof]

It's here:

http://razstar.brinkster.net/goaste/georgeandlynne001.html

(NSFW, for anyone who hasn't read it)

[yesitsme]

It's here:

http://razstar.brinkster.net/goaste/georgeandlynne001.html

(NSFW, for anyone who hasn't read it)

Thanks.

[kalowski]

Made me laugh

[Phil_A]

My proudest achievement in life is having a George & Lynne on the goaste George & Lynne section. It's all been downhill from there.

[jobotic]

That's great. Love the Bad Weather ones. And the line CHRIST GEORGE THAT WAS WEAK EVEN FOR YOU.

[Petey Pate]

This is an opinion piece in a 'serious' newspaper.  Way to labour the point.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/opinions/wp/2018/08/31/eat-cheese-live-forever-eat-cheese-never-die/

"Cheese and yogurt were found to protect against death from any cause," proclaimed this article from NBC.

THAT'S RIGHT, ANY CAUSE!

CHEESE WILL SAVE YOUR LIFE.

CHEESES, TAKE THE WHEEL!

YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE AT DEATH'S DOOR? NO WHEY.

THIS IS WHY THEY SAY GOAT CHEESE IS THE G.O.A.T., BECAUSE OF ITS LOYALTY.

YOU WILL NOT EVER GET A GREY HAIR — NOT WHEN YOU HAVE GRUYERE.

UNLIKE IAGO, ASIAGO WOULD HAVE SAVED OTHELLO'S LIFE.

MONTEREY JACK WILL FIX YOUR BROKEN-DOWN AUTOMOBILE ON A DESERTED STRETCH OF ROAD.

CHEDDAR WILL FIGHT A BEAR FOR YOU. THERE'S NO PUN THERE, IT JUST WILL.

ARE YOU IN DANGER? SAY "CHEESE."

CARVE YOUR LIKENESS IN CHEESE AND YOU WILL NEVER AGE.

VAMPIRES ARE CRETINS. WHY WOULD YOU DRINK HUMAN BLOOD WHEN FONDUE WILL DO THE JOB AND FURTHERMORE IS FONDUE?

BUILD YOURSELF A TEAR RICOTTA ARMY AND CRUSH YOUR ENEMIES.

MAKE CHEESE YOUR PROTECTOR. IT IS THE ORIGINAL SWISS GUARD.

TOSS LIMBURGER AHEAD OF YOU INTO A BUILDING TO SMOKE OUT YOUR ENEMIES. IT WILL! IT WILL DO IT!

BRIE IS EVEN STRONGER THAN CAPTAIN MARVEL.

STRING CHEESE WILL STRANGLE OR TRIP ANY ATTACKER WHO SEEKS TO HARM YOU. YOU SAW "HOME ALONE"? IT WAS A WEAK PREVIEW OF WHAT CHEESE WILL DO TO DEFEND THOSE IT LOVES.

ONE LOOK AT GORGONZOLA WILL TURN THEM TO STONE.

SWISS WILL OPEN A HOLE AND SWALLOW YOUR OPPONENT AND HE WILL NEVER BE HEARD FROM AGAIN.

CHEESE WILL PROTECT YOU ANY WAY: WAX ON, WAX OFF.

(AMERICAN CHEESE WILL NOT WORK; IT IS NO GOUDA.)

CHEESE IS THE REAL MUENSTER.

CALL CHEESE. YOUR ENEMIES SHALL BE CRUSHED BENEATH THE WHEEL.

BUILD A SAFE HOUSE FROM CHEESE, A ROQUE FORT, AND NOTHING CAN EVER TOUCH YOU.

WHAT IS PENICILLIN IF NOT KIND OF A FORM OF CHEESE, KIND OF? UNLESS YOU ARE ALLERGIC TO IT.

CHEESE IS MOLD WITH LOYALTY.

LACTOSE IS INTOLERANT OF ANYONE WHO WOULD HARM YOU.

EAT YOUR CURDS AND WHEY, AS MISS MUFFET DID, AND SPIDERS CANNOT TOUCH YOU.

I HAVE NOT READ ANY OF THE ASSOCIATED SCIENCE.

ALSO CHEESE MAKES YOU IMMUNE TO FIRE. I BET. ADD FIRE TO CHEESE AND YOU JUST HAVE FONDUE.

"WHO MOVED MY CHEESE" WAS WRITTEN BY A MAN ANGERED BECAUSE HE KNEW THE SOURCE OF HIS IMMORTALITY WAS THREATENED. NEVER MOVE YOUR CHEESE FOR ANY REASON.

I understand that if I were to talk to the authors of the study they would say something like, "This is a correlation that needs to be looked into further — cheese does not actually confer the gift of immortality," but this is why journalism is such a depressing practice frowned upon by those in power. No.

I BELIEVE IN CHEESES.

[Stoneage Dinosaurs]

^ sounds like something he meant to post in HS art

[Famous Mortimer]

My proudest achievement in life is having a George & Lynne on the goaste George & Lynne section. It's all been downhill from there.

I also have one, and feel much the same way.

[turnstyle]

This is an opinion piece in a 'serious' newspaper.  Way to labour the point.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/opinions/wp/2018/08/31/eat-cheese-live-forever-eat-cheese-never-die/

I mean, this is dog shit, obviously, but it also reminded me of humourous chalkboards outside businesses, mainly this

Sweet dreams are made of cheese,
Who am I to diss a brie?
I cheddar the world,
And the feta cheese
Everybody's looking for stilton

I probably found that amusing the first time I saw it, but that's so far away in history I don't recall. The collective brain cells that absorbed that memory are the same ones that also would recall my first steps and the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand.

I mean Christ, it's just so fucking lazy. All these chalkboard signs that are meant to be witty and inventive are just some bellend typing 'funny chalk signs' into Google, probably prodding at the keyboard with the inbred nub of their one good finger and their tongue lazily searching the corners of their mouth for forgotten globules of their morning Farley's rusk.

Fuck off!

[Jockice]

I mean, this is dog shit, obviously, but it also reminded me of humourous chalkboards outside businesses, mainly this

Sweet dreams are made of cheese,
Who am I to diss a brie?
I cheddar the world,
And the feta cheese
Everybody's looking for stilton

I probably found that amusing the first time I saw it, but that's so far away in history I don't recall. The collective brain cells that absorbed that memory are the same ones that also would recall my first steps and the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand.

I mean Christ, it's just so fucking lazy. All these chalkboard signs that are meant to be witty and inventive are just some bellend typing 'funny chalk signs' into Google, probably prodding at the keyboard with the inbred nub of their one good finger and their tongue lazily searching the corners of their mouth for forgotten globules of their morning Farley's rusk.

Fuck off!

Pubs with 'witty' comments on the walls should all be bombed. Full stop.

[yesitsme]

When I first started going to away games I used to use the official travel club.  A few old codgers but mainly lads too young to drive all aboard a coach.

The drivers ALL loved The Roy Hudd Lines.

Never laughed ONCE.

Fuck Roy Hudd.

[H-O-W-L]

[Replies From View]

THANK GOD IT'S FUCKED

[yesitsme]

Anyone said practical jokes yet?  Y'know Vinny Jones snipping the toes off Dean Holdsworth's socks or taking a shit in his shoes?

God how we laughed.

Edit.

Actually the thought of Dean Holdsworth putting his bare toes in to one of Jones' turds has actually brought a smile to my face.

Good old Vinny!

[bigfatheart]

Oh God yeah, 99% of 'hilarious' football stories I've heard fall under the category of "You had to be there", and that's being generous.

Jimmy Bullard likes to wheel out that story about David Bentley shouting "Postman Pat" in Fabio Capello's face as if Bentley was the second coming of Oscar Wilde, doesn't he? Noticing that Capello looked like Postman Pat is funny, but when the wittiest thing you can do with that idea is scream into the face of an elderly man with a poor grasp of English, you're probably a tedious Legend Gary whose behaviour wouldn't be tolerated in any other profession.

[Neville Chamberlain]

https://www.plymouthherald.co.uk/news/plymouth-news/storm-bronagh-arrives-plymouth-nearly-2027226

[yesitsme]

Could quite easily slide in tot he advert thread, I'll be stunned if it isn't already but how about when characters from bitter/sweet comedy dramas turn up in Supermarket aisles in adverts?

Y'know Pete and Jen pushing a trolley, she's ace at the bargainz but he's a twit putting all sorts of shit in.

But he's loveable.  She probably even calls him 'Pete' in the ads and perhaps goes 'Oh Peter!' like she does in the show.  That they're divorced in.  I'm sure we're meant to laugh along at their madcap antics and his lack of respect for trolley etiquette.  Mind you, yer Baxendale and yer Jimmy O'Irish met in a car park didn't they...?

Oh fuck off.