Sorry. But feel free to help yourself to a slice of leftover Little Caesar’s pepperoni pizza—or one of those cranapple juice boxes.
It’s not like I’m going to drink that shit.
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Recent Comments
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We just call it “crapple”.
Mna, I hate cran.
“Get that fake pizza outta here!”
After having just lectured us about the sanctity of language as it pertains to the concept of marriage, you casually refer to Little Caesar’s as “pizza”.
Hypocrite.
I just had this terrible flash that one day, Satch and his buds are going to look back with fond memories on the days when they where children and one actually drank one’s fruit juice out of a box.
(Actually, I’m an adult and can can hardly believe some of us actually drink wine out of a box…..)
1. I like cran*, though I more prefer grapefruit (straight) and POG.
2. I am in total agreement with Chairman Me.
Is it wrong that I have a (very minor) physical repulsion to the thought of eating any food prepared specifically for my baby? I’ll eat some of the (real) pizza that I’ve cut for her but I can’t stand the thought of eating out of that fruit cup purchased specifically for her.
So, yeah, I’m not going to drink that shit either.
So, yeah, I’m not going to drink that shit either.
Can I put vodka in it?
I could go for a convenience store crapuccino right now (no hidden reference, Alp). To wash down my cig. Yeah, that’s the ticket.
ha ha ha – you are such a witty, hip guy. Love the faux-hippie persona, by the way. u r TRAY CHIC!
By the way, why the heck do you call your random words “Turing words.” They have nothing to do with a Turing test and other ideas associated with the late, great, gay inventor.
Years ago the only reason to drink the cran, was to pass the urine drug tests. Now I just water it down with Grey Goose…
Do we have a juice-box boy over here? Ace has spoiled me. I never retrieve my own anymore.
SWP,
Go check out “Turing test” on Wiki, and it will probably provide you with the knowlege that you seek. Because, if the words were completely random, we would not be able to tell the difference betwen the inference engine and you. Which we can do. Because the inference engine is much more germane.
If you look closely at the Little Caesar’s logo, it says “Little Caesar’s Pizzza” with 3 z’s. They did that to avoid fraud litigation and comply with truth in advertising laws.
Heh. “Betwen.”
<–Daniel ben Drincken
Heh. “Knowlege.”
& cet.
Did you just call me juice-box, juice-box?
They have nothing to do with a Turing test and other ideas associated with the late, great, gay inventor.
Alan Turing invented gays?
Tang: Hard to believe, isn’t it? Turing also invented the Simple Black Dress That Goes With Everything and the phrase, “wrinkle room.”
Master Tang,
Of course. If the transvestite was so convincing that you couldn’t have been expected to know the difference, what was the difference?
Having said that, those bastards should have left him alone.
Posted by southwestpaw | permalink
on 07/06 at 05:05 PM
Speaking of juice boxes……
Having said that, those bastards should have left him alone.
Agree with you there, Dan. I never understood how H.M. government, knowing what Turing did for King and country at Bletchley, and knowing how effin’ brilliant the man was, could allow him to suffer the type of persecution he endured toward the end.
Dan Collins: Go check out “Turing test†on Wiki, and it will probably provide you with the knowlege that you seek. Because, if the words were completely random, we would not be able to tell the difference betwen the inference engine and you. Which we can do. Because the inference engine is much more germane.
I’d say this is as good as it gets, comment-wise, hehewise for this troll on this blog. And this is pretty lame. The joke is okay – the advice is inane. The Turing test, named after the GAY inventor Alan Turing (Mr. phony orange-flavored drink sez: DUH! I shoulda known dat!) has nothing to do with the wordz created by the random (or is it?) word generator.
Turing (sic) word: student
student as in “studented to tryda fix.”
Turing was GAY???????
Who knew?
Idiot.
“Studented to tryda fix” is rather good.
swp, you still shooting for that whole ‘nother online mystery personna you were a couple days ago? See, pw has this minor crowd of intellectual fight-clubbers and I’m just askin’…
Because if you’re going for the schizoblogger routine, let me congratulate you: For such a deceptively simple style, your cranapple runs some kinda deep, girl.
The asinine southwestpaw says:
Well, jackass, (I can call you jackass without being too familiar, right?) the Turing Test distinquishes between a deductive intelligence like a human being and a program only set to recognize a limited set of keys. Since spam programs are not sophisticated enough to extract a word from a graphic while a human can, it is a valid application of Turing’s rationale for his test, and you have your head up your ignorant ass saying differently.
Moron.
Not even with the lovely vodka?
Deb! My Love, you have returned! I was bereft, my sweet, simply bereft! I feared that I had offended you by mistakenly guessing that you were going for the persona of Samantha from “Bewitched”—I know now how foolish that was. You’re obviously trying to be Ginger, right? Right?
No—wait! Mary Anne!!
Um, Mrs. Howell?
Mr. Howell?
TW:church (I crap you not), as in “the Gay Dr. Turing probably belonged to the Anglican church.”
You know what the worst thing about you is, Deb? You’re boring. And being wrong, practically unintelligible, and boring is quite the trifecta. Try harder to entertain us. DANCE, MONKEY, DANCE!!
Was Turing COE? It’s been practically forever since I read Hodges’s bio of the man, and I don’t remember coming across that bit of information. Given his background and upbringing in the U.K. at that time and place, it would make sense that he would have been, but I dunno.
Little Caesars’s? I’ll pass. Rumor has it that the “cheese” is actually the casein that Elmer’s rejects when they make their white glue….
It’s becoming clear – Jeff really does eat paste.
Seriously, there is hope:
Stay away from Pizza Hut. The sauce is deadly when it comes back at 3:00 a.m. after being washed down with cheap Tequila. Don’t go near that Chicago “deep dish” stuff, either. You might as well chow down on a two pound block of Mozzarella.
Find a good local place that does thin crust pizza, light on the sauce, and pepperoni.
Now if you don’t mind your pizza looking back at you, we can talk about Japanese pizza. It’s dinner time in your time zone, so I’ll spare you.
oh my god. I love it. Jeff Goldstein, you should make this your tagline.
I guess somebody’s gonna have to give back the six bits.
Jeff, have you ever known anyone who just wouldn’t shut the hell up? Ever?
How old is that pizza?
tw: Bring. It. On.
who’s pee dubya?
Pablo: Jeff, have you ever known anyone who just wouldn’t shut the hell up? Ever?
Jeff: Uh, you mean other than ME?
Ah, my Flower, quit toying with them, pretending you don’t have a clue. You are NOT Ginger, remember?
Come, let’s recline on the chaise and tease each other with pizza and juice boxes; forget all those nasty, nasty smart people—you were made for ze love, not ze fightclubbing!!
TW: I want you, my passion fruit!
…
…
I LIKE Little Caesars….
*Sniff*
Friggen Pizza-ists.
Uh, Dr Deb? If I were to shut up and stop posting, you’d be forced to go back to trolling Adlerian psych abstracts—and those rarely talk back.
Which is what drove you crazy in the first place, I’d venture.
So mind your manners. Or you’ll end up having these passive aggressive exchanges with what I’m guessing is a houseful of cats and stacks of old newspaper.
Jets pizza is where it’s at. Little Caesars is like cheese on cardboard.
Gay t/w: money, as in, it’s not worth the money
Not to mention, Deb, Jeff would have all of us stalking him; trying to convince him to come back and never ever leave us again.
T/W: minions. No joke.
Deb rivals actard for the PW Bleeding, Naked, & Grinning Award.
Deb, only the slapstick Witheld has shown how to emerge not only unbloodied, but genuinely free and joyful. Whatever it is, it is the master.
Study, grasshopper, study. Be the telephone pole.
tw: Wood products.
Pizza, meh. Come on over to my place, Deb, and I’ll make you one of these. Just promise not to speak.
Carin,
Dude. The Jet’s over in my Mom’s vicinity shut down a while back. She’s been in some big-ol’ funk ever since.
No chance of getting any more of that beeyotchin’ deep-dish action, alas.
Deb hasn’t had her “Typing Telephone Pole” immunization shots and troll rating yet, so respond carefully. We won’t be sure if its rabies of just dementia until Verc does his usual rating, so jingle her Cow bell if you like, but don’t get too close. Lord knows where those hands have been.
TW with a lisp: When Deb looks up and says “You’ve been served”, her tricks head explodes….
I don’t think Southwesthoof needs to worry about rabies so much as Mad Troll Disease.
That’s 3 minutes in the box Tang. C’mon.
Hmmmm…. Would that make her a drooling Troll…. or does tipping the Cow fix that?
Hey Dan. You screwin’ my sistah?
Jeffy boy: Uh, Dr Deb? If I were to shut up and stop posting, you’d be forced to go back to trolling Adlerian psych abstractsâ€â€and those rarely talk back.
Yikes Jeff, I asked you a simple question – what’s pee dubya. Spare me your wordy, pointless, petulant rant. I have NO interest in learning more about the workings of your pathetic excuse for a mind.
Thanx!
No offense, Deb, but people in padded rooms shouldn’t throw stones.
Or rather, go ahead. But they’ll just kind of thud ridiculously against the foam and fall to the floor at your crazy naked feet.
Looks like SWH is already showing signs of Mad Troll—unable to remember her own comment, to wit (sic):
Unfortunately, tipping only accelerates the mental deterioration. Which, while I really hate to imagine anyone desperate enough to have ever tipped her, you have to remember there are some truly sad specimens out there.
oooh, Jeff. You are one TOUGH COOKIE! No idea why you think your flaccid response has dissed me in some way, but thanks for letting me hang out with you and your flock of half-brained nincompoops. Most dingbats of your ilk ban mofos like me.
You’ve got more cajones than the average, third-rate, rightwing wing nut!
U da man!
Uh huh. And U B long in restraints.
So it goes.
Used by a PHd.
In all seriousness.
I’m aghast.
Yikes, Jeff. Has it really come to this? Is that really the best comeback you’ve got?
You are such an intellectual lightweight – how in the world do you attrack so many vermint to your sewer?
Inquiring minds wanna know!
I’d like to hear more about your “tyke” by the way. Girl? Boy? Toddler? Teen? Are you still married to the woman you ephed to give birth to the tyke?
Tell all, bro!
Never mind.
She really, really is that dumb.
A PHd.
Must be grade inflation.
Oh damn – Deb forgot her Burka again…. beatings can commence at will… just don’t let her leak on the rug….
Aw. I do believe Deb’s got a crush on me! Don’t despair, though honey—you’re like the fifth academic “lesbian” I’ve turned.
Man. Were Nietzche alive, he would have written, like, so many books about me.
ooh – I don’t just have the neutered leader, I’ve got the first batallion! Big Bang Hunter (ooh – you are so hot, man!) and N. O’Brain and I reckon Tang and Dan O’Brian (da brains uv da operation!) will be here soon.
This is it, Jeff. The final showdown! I’ve got my keyboard drawn and so do you.
May the better woman win.
Come on, king of the pissants! Ruler of the slime molds!
Show me whatcha got, dingbat!
Your favorite moonbat
southwestcow is making a racket agian with her bell…Must be time for her evening feeding…. McGehee any of those fish heads left from her meal yesterday?…..
Again? That trick never works.
/Rocky TFS
Oooh. Wrong button, Deb.
IGNORE DEBBIE TIME!
Jeffy boy: Oooh. Wrong button, Deb.
IGNORE DEBBIE TIME!
Yikes, Jeff. Is this the best you can do? Ignoring me is like banning me, dingbat. It’s 8:23.
I predict that you will be forced to ban (not just ignore) me by 9:00 p.m. tonight.
Let the games continue!
You stole that from The Lord of the Rings, didn’t you, you little orc midden.
I didn’t steal it, Zero (=N’O!)-brain, but it’s a pretty obvious line so I’m not surprised someone beat me to this setup-punch.
No idea what an orc midden is, zero.
I’m just now watching Bill Keller on “Charlie Rose” and all I can say is I’m still not drinking that shit either.
Well DebBessie….Looks like you’re out of luck….Fish heads all gone….So you’ll just have to graze… That should fill at least one of your four stomachs until tomorrow… Bon Appitite’
So you’re totally ignorant of literature, too.
And puns.
Nice package you got gone there, shithead.
Don’t think so. I could check but ain’t no way I’m going in that stall without a hazmat suit.
Whooooof. I’m beginning to think it’s the lame attempt at sounding like what she evidently thinks some sort of hiphop teenager IMing would. Pathetic in the same sort of way as an older, overweight balding guy haunting yuppie singles bars is pathetic.
The laughter has passed, only the pain is left. Is she too young to get 40-50 cats to talk to all day?
Trying to keep all threads on this pathetic excuse for a blog going!
A dingbat named Jorg writes:
Whooooof. I’m beginning to think it’s the lame attempt at sounding like what she evidently thinks some sort of hiphop teenager IMing would. Pathetic in the same sort of way as an older, overweight balding guy haunting yuppie singles bars is pathetic.
No idea what the point is. Jorg – could you try to diss me in a pithy way – it’s not worth my time to try to figger out what yer point was – say it PITHILY!!!!! Then I’ll respond!
Thanx, bro.
Pomeranians, I think. Cats would leave.
Regards,
Ric
Ric Locke.
Um. I like that. It is SO hot. It’s a hard C, even though there is no K. That is so MANLY. So manly, Ric. And then, you’ve got an E at the end of your Locke. Showing just how hard that ck is.
U da man, Ric!!!! U DA MAN!
God I miss Witheld.
I already drank it, McGeehee.