All work by "The Acorn King" is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

Looking for a bank to sink your hard earned recession dollars in? May I suggest this lovely Japanese boxed cat bank.

All work by "The Acorn King" is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

Charlie Murphy is back! Check out these new motivational speaking videos, where he plays the guy (Leroy Smith) that beat Michael Jordan out for the last spot on his High School basketball team. Glad to see you're back, Charlie!





All work by "The Acorn King" is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

All work by "The Acorn King" is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

Today is Easter Sunday, that magical time when we remember Jesus' glorious resurrection from the dead — which we celebrate by chomping on chocolate easter bunnies and gourmet jellybeans. But I guess I do feel better about drooling down the neck of a decapitated chocolate bunny, than the torso of a chocolate Jesus. That could just be weird. So, in celebration of this miraculous of miraculous days, I would like to announce a slightly less miraculous event (yet much funnier). I (The Acorn King) will now be contributing to the pants-shittingly funny website "Are You F---ing Kidding Me." That's twice the funny, for triple the freeness! As a kick-off to this awesome event, here's a classic post from the Grand Poobah (Monkey) of RUFKM. Happy Easter!

KNEEL BEFORE ZUMBA! (by Loose Cannon of RUFKM.net)
It’s not every day you meet your hero. I did just that while having some general maintenance and repairs done on my car. This was at a store that my friend’s parent’s owned that I have known for over 20 years.

When I walked into “Firestone” (not the name of the business) the manager, Dave (the real name of the man), was sitting behind his desk wearing their standard issue red logo polo shirt. It wasn’t until he stood up that I realized I was about to meet most inspirational man on Earth. It was an amazing sight. Dave was wearing the aforementioned shirt, tucked into Zubaz Zebra Pants. Are you F—ing kidding me?

I’m not sure if you are familiar with Zebra pants and their hypnotizing power so I have included the picture above. In fact, these pants are so rare that there is hardly any documented footage or proof of theirexistence on the entire Internet. I couldn’t even find a picture of any human wearing them, just the pants. I thought they were possibly afigment of my imagination, until that fateful day.

I hadn’t seen a pair since 1988. They were very popular with the wrestling/power lifting/serial killer crowd. They were usually complemented by a ripped string tank top by someone who looked like they snorted a dozen eggs for breakfast, tanned until flames shot out of their skin, and whose veins looked like they were trying to escape their host.

Dave was a bearded 50 year old man whose health routine peaked at standing up and walking towards me.
It was the first time I had seen this item featured in the workplace or, for that matter, in any social setting. I looked around the showroom to see if there was a circus or safari theme that would explain the need for such attire but found so such evidence.

But there was Dave, standing in all his glory ready to giving me a legal contract to sign to begin repairs while wearing zig-zaggedsweat pants. While Dave stood in front of me, pen in hand, I contemplated the many possible obstacles he might face in his pursuit of wearing these trousers. In other words, interactions that could make him rethink his decision.

A. Wife
B. Both of his teenage kids
C. Owner
D. Employees
E. Customers
F. Any human that wasn’t also wearing zebra pants

Dave had made it past all these challenges. In fact, many might have given him positive reinforcement like “You look great, Honey” or “Cool pants, Dad.” This could explain how he was looking ultra confident while asking me to authorize over $500 worth of repairs. I signed and was on my way to return several days later. Maybe it was laundry day. Perhaps he had a clowning gig directly after work. Or maybe, just maybe — he was a GENIUS.

I found my answer upon my return. There Dave was again, with legs that looked like an African mammal. Two days later. That’s when it hit me. Dave had found a loophole. Every company has their own dress code/guidelines whether it’s professional dress or wearing a specified uniform. It is always very specific and lists what you CAN wear and also what you CAN’T wear. Usually the CAN’T list includes jeans, mini skirts, open toed shoes, Capri pants, etc.

NO DRESS CODES MENTION ANYTHING ABOUT ZUBAZ.
SO DAVE SHOWED UP WEARING THEM ONE DAY AND NOBODY SAID ANYTHING.
AND THEN…HE DID IT AGAIN.
AND AGAIN.

My fiance had a nightmare recently that I showed up to work wearing nothing but a T-shirt tucked into my Calvin Klein’s (she even dreams in cliches) and that I said “It’s cool, it’s casual Friday.” To me this is not a nightmare. It’s my fantasy. If it was socially acceptable and I could pull that off instead of wearing a tie, long sleeve shirt and ANY PANTS AT ALL…great. It’s hot down here in Florida.

Dave, you are my hero. You are a mastermind. When others are getting out of their pajamas to get ready for work, you are slipping into yours and heading out the door. You lead the revolution for comfort and style. Well done, sir.






All work by "The Acorn King" is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

Sure we've all seen the "just like a mini mall" local ad from a couple years ago, and if you haven't then you need to crawl out from under that rock.



This ad proved that sometimes local TV ads are so bad, they're actually good. However, I think I just found some local ads that aren't in danger of that.

This one is so awesome that I was left speechless after watching it. I think this one is actually one of the best things I've seen in some time.

Christopher Knight for School Board



Cracka please! I want to get Richard Prior from the movie "Car Wash" to come and pimp slap you for making this ad.

The Credit MacDaddy



I'm guessing they were trying to be bad on purpose with this one.

Discount Seafood Warehouse



Is this their idea of hot models? Is that first girl a talking orange, or just a Jersey girl that fell asleep in the tanning bed?

J&P Auto Mart



So this is what happens to all those football players that graduate high school and still think they're tough.

Attorney Denvil Crowe



I'm embarrassed for this guys family.

The Pizza Barn



I wonder what our countries frontiersman would say if they could see this commercial (after they got over the whole moving pictures in a box thing).

Martin Fine Furniture



The only thing better than a bad local ad, is a bad local ad blooper!

This one is so awesome, I don't even know where to start. Please be warned that there is some strong language in this one. My favorite line has got to be:
"Yeah focus, that's what I need to do. I should have thought about that 30 years ago, probably would've helped, otherwise I wouldn't have ended up in Pinetucky selling fu*@ing beds."

Beds 4 Less



At least this commercial demonstrates the springs.

The Furniture Guy



This guy is just a tool.

Gallery Furniture


There are so many bad local ads that I'm not even scratching the surface with these, but I hope they were at least entertaining.

Give a squirrel a nut :)

All work by "The Acorn King" is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

Back in college I was in a fraternity, let's just call it "Tapa-Tapa-Keg."



One semester I was asked if I wanted to be the Tapa-Tapa pledge master,
along with my "brothers" Frank & Kevin.

Our duties as pledge masters were simple: Humiliate pledges and order them to do stuff we didn't want to.



Wait, what? What I meant to say was: Our duties as pledge masters were to teach the pledges about the steep history of Tapa-Tapa, while leading them through a series of challenging, yet fun, team building activities.

So let's skip forward to the culmination of this pledge period, a magical time known as "Hell Week." Hell Week marked the last time the pledges would have to put up with our shit.

If they made it through this week, they'd have earned the right to pay for our friendship.

During this final week there were a few rules.

1. All 26 pledges would have to take-up residence in our fraternity basement.

2. The pledges were only allowed to leave the house to attend class.

3. When in our presence, pledges would have to kneel before us on one knee.

4. At the end of the final week, pledges were required to throw us (and campus) a big party.

If they failed to do any of these acts, Kevin would make them wear nothing but an adult diaper, then Frank would cover them in Crisco and call them "Crisco The Kid." (I know, it sounded a bit odd and homoerotic to me too.)



These were the house rules and we assumed the pledges would find their new living arrangements uncomfortable — but we forgot how shitty and cramped the freshman dorms were.



These guys actually enjoyed living in the basement, what the hell was wrong with them?! So we came up with a couple new ways to make their stay a bit less enjoyable.

Our first step was to crank "Cracklin' Rosie" (by Neil Diamond) on 24-hour repeat, for 6 straight days. The pledges would now have to sleep and wake to the thoughtful vocals of Neil. Over...and over...and over...and over again.



Our second move was to paper the basement walls with a certain Playgirl magazine that we'd lifted a few weeks earlier from that little old lady
"who liked it rough and Redford."





These new additions made their stay much less enjoyable, yet somehow they suffered through it all to the bitter end, now it was time for the big party.

We all gathered in the basement about an hour before the festivities were set to kick-off. The pledges took a knee and it looked as if we were set to go, then I noticed they forgot to take the guy porn down from the walls. This oversight would have been a major embarrassment if outsiders had seen it — so we singled out the pledge who was in charge of taking it all down. Kevin had him put his diaper on, and Frank readied the Crisco.

It was at this exact moment that the cellar doors creaked open and 3 unknown freshman came bounding in, their faces filled with absolute terror as they took in the horrors before them: I was standing in a dark basement flanked by one guy holding a tub of crisco and another holding a box of adult diapers. There were 26 guys kneeling before us and one of them was wearing only a diaper. Male porn blanketed the walls and Neil Diamond blared from the stereo.

This was one time it really wasn't what it looked like.



Give a squirrel a nut :)

All work by "The Acorn King" is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

So it was suggested that my last junk mail posting be converted to a Craigs List posting. So here we go, here is my latest Craigs List post. Coupon edition!



For this listing I tried posting it in new areas I hadn't tried yet: Dakota, Louisiana, Virginia, West Virginia, and Mississippi.

My hopes were that by listing in these smaller places that the posts would might stay up longer and in turn receive more comments...and they did stay up for a long time in these places, but they also received no responses (positive/negative).

My best guess is that these places probably don't use C.L. very much. I know most of my friends living in Connecticut didn't even know what C.L was, while everyone I know in NYC, San Fran, Boston & LA couldn't live without Mr. Craig and his list. I'm still trying to get some sort of response in these cities and as I do I'll add them to this post.

Give a squirrel a nut :)

Ahh California, the golden state. I moved here from New York earlier in the year.



Now, I love New York (that really should be a t-shirt) but it's the only place I've ever lived where I could count on tripping over garbage when walking out the front door.

I have to say that California is super clean, and I think that might be because Californians keep all the junk off the streets, and instead cram it into mail boxes.



I've never received so much junk mail on a daily basis as I have here in the golden state. Here's a picture of all the junk mail I've received JUST THIS MONTH. (and this is only counting the coupon circulars, I'm not counting the junk mail letters)





Who in their right mind needs this many coupons for cat food and chicken? It's hard to believe that all this junk came out of this tiny mailbox.



Unwanted waste coming out of a small area, now what does that remind me of?



So now that I've collected so much junk mail, there's got to be something I can do with it all! I tried framing some of it, hoping it might add a little pizzaz to my apartment — however I don't think it's really doing much for the place. What do you think?


Artwork on the left comes courtesy of Spacemonkey.
Artwork on the right comes courtesy of KFC.

I was unsatisfied with my first attempt to find a practical use for my junk mail, so I searched the web to see what other people were doing with their junk mail. Here's what I found:

They make hats out of it.



Some people wrap packages with it.



Many clean-up after their pet with it.



Others make jewelry out of it.



Some make purses with it.



Others make clothing out of it.



This person made tiny trees out of their junk mail.



This person actually makes really cool artwork with it.



This angry person made a giant tank out of it.



And this constipated person made a giant boat out of it.




As for me, I just line my waste basket with it.



If you also live in California and would like to rid yourself of some of this junk mail, here's some info a friend of mine passed along on how to unsubscribe from a few of the culprits:

PENNYSAVER:
www.pennysaverusa.com/contactus/
But you can save the time, and just call 1800-422-4116

DMA:
www.dmachoice.org
Click the box on the left side "remove my name from those lists".
This one takes a few steps, and if you don't want to pay the dollar "convenience charge," then you'll have to print out the page and send it in. This takes a few minutes, but should be well worth it.

Give a squirrel a nut :)