Why the fuck am I here?

No, really. Where the fuck is this? How did I get here? Existential angst boils within my blood like a coked-out badger boils within a rotting hay-bale. Sometimes I wish I could strange a small child, simply so I won't feel so old. Or something. Who the hell are you? Get off my god damn e-lawn or whatever.


Bask in my glorious light of knowledge. Legal note: knowledge may more closely resemble rabbit shit when viewed under a microscope.  





Add your own joke here.

Add your own joke here.


Someone on a forum requested a Harper version of the Ignatieff.me attack ads. So I obliged. 

Someone on a forum requested a Harper version of the Ignatieff.me attack ads. So I obliged. 

Canada?

Canada?






Harrison Ford, in a banana hammock, leaning on a piece of lumber. If you were hoping the caption would make the image less mystifying, it would seem you enjoy being disappointed.

Harrison Ford, in a banana hammock, leaning on a piece of lumber. If you were hoping the caption would make the image less mystifying, it would seem you enjoy being disappointed.