Template:MainPageVandalism
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Where'd my clever ideas go?
- (QUICK VERSION: It's here)
This template is supposed to change quickly, fast, immediately and now, to be whatever anyone passing by wants it to be at the moment. (Barring obscenities, of course.) It's not expected to be good or interesting, just random.
So please don't expect something you made to be there when you check back; it will have been absorbed into the general vandalism. This page is a free release to be able to change what is on the template without repercussions of pissing someone off for overwriting their work.
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Guinea Pigs fear and obey the longest article as a matter of principle. It was for this purpose that great houses of worship were erected on every continent. There is even a covert redoubt on Mars, manned by cryogenically preserved sick people and geezers. One retiree even received a complimentary set of decorator crabs, and a shiny medal with grass on it.
The ankle-biters tagged along, gaily nipping away at the poor footies on innocent pilgrims on the road to the Dwarf Fortress. Finally, having passed through the Mountains of Travail, the Third Bishop remarked casually, if uneventfully, that the rains had brought a much-needed ensconcement to the countryside. Carved in all it's adamantine glory, the precipice will not falter.
File Nucleonic Power in your pipe, and smoke it.
There has been entirely too much salami this week. Please reduce coldcut orders by 65%, or risk Italian singers to inundate the harbor.
On March 4, Anna Nichole Smith was reincarnated as a vulture.
Bilge pump, oh fleeting bilge pump! I invoke thine intercession on my dog's behalf to give us a nice spring day for the Feast of Saint Alphonso. Gladden our loins with hackles of smelt, and roundly defeat our enemies with Kentucky whiskey.
Living on a barge has it's perks... Santorum, for instance.
Jesus is here, and he's belching.
Martusse performed his usual dazzling food arithmetic before God and Satan, with no regard for the truth of the matter. Or energy, for that matter. The beer was Dutch, the lobster from Maine and fugu tank-grown in Okinawa.
It's a static line of Saarin plied between 5 razors, and then you spit. Bubbles form on the inner edges, but you don't care, you just keep shoring up the beech head until it's time for dinner.
- Knocking about on a Saturday morning, up to no good, Yancy fanciedan y
dsertfet ahhhjn peoplle ar typing for m,e
sddorry. he did picket a sick frigate paddling ostentatiously toward the Pagoda of Backupu Redundancy.
Today is Kerbit's Day, and in honor of such a panoply, we at Illogicopedia wish our brethren and sisteren of the Holy Apostolic Multidimensional Church of the Half-Buried Truths. To everybody else, we suggest ingesting, imbibing and otherwise consuming things and stuff that make you happy. When the pump stops, please extinguish all smoking materials and dog-pile on your comfy mattress until the train comes to full stop.
qazwsxedcrfvtgbyhnujmik,ol.p;/[']\|}"?{:>PL<OKMIJNUHBYGVTFCRDXESZWAQ`~ ROLLING MY HEAD ON THE KEYBOARD!!!
As Boudica nuzzled her orange kitty face against the upper edge of my laptop, hobbled-goblins emerged from the hills across the frozen tundra, mile after mile, sifting flour deviously and with expressions of derision on their gaunt, leathery faces. Olaf the Redolent of Onion was, as usual, out of step with the rest of the horde, and whistling the Lithuanian national song of gloating, but this in step with his brethren.
The following message brought to you by dreadfully unfunny. EVERYDAY IM SHUFFLING
As a further proof of concept, shiny duct tape can be expressed as follows:
The resultant expression is in no way similar to lactation.
"Clink!" went the glasses, narrowly avoiding fatal collision due to intoxication of glass pilots.
- ...so then, Barry pointed up the street and said, "Up at the third set of lights, that's Adams Street. Take a right and just before the end of the block, on your left, you'll find the Catechism Monkey Building." Unfortunately, Barry was holding a bag of freshly scooped doggie poops in the same hand which he used to gesture down the street, facilitating directions and simultaneously waving said malodorous package under the nose of the directions asker... porpoise?
Meh berd is cooler than wrowbawttzq. Meh berd has always been cooler than wrowbawttzq. And, most of all, wrowbawttzq is always doomed to be inferior to meh berd with respect to coolishness. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's things that need stuff done to them. Bedelato 03:10, 18 Jeremy 2012 (UTC)
Come to the Arseton Car Bot Sale for Free CHristmas presents.!
I was walking through the city streets, and a man comes up to me and hands me the latest energy drink. "Run faster, jump higher!" Man, I'm not gonna let you poison me! I THREW IT ON THE GROUND!!! You must think I'm a joke! I ain't gonna be part of your system! Man, pump that garbage in another man's veins!
I go to my favorite hot dog stand, and the dude says, "You come here all the time! Here's one for free." I said, "Man, what do I look like? A charity case?" I took it, and THREW IT ON THE GROUND!!! I don't need your handouts! I'm an adult, please! You can't buy me, hot dog man!
At the farmer's market with my so-called girlfreind, she hands me her cellphone, says it's my dad. Man, this ain't my dad! This is a cellphone! I THREW IT ON THE GROUND!!! Whatcha think, I'm stupid? I'm not a part of the system! My dad is not a phone! DUH!
Some poser hands me cake at a birthday party. Whatcha want me to do with this, eat it? HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE GROUND!!! I threw the rest of the cake too! Welcome to the real world, jackass!
So many things to throw on the ground, like this and this and that and even this! I'M AN ADULT!!!
Two Hollywood phonies try to give me their autograph. GROUND!!! Nobody wants your autograph, phonies! Then the two phonies got up, turned out they had a tazer, and they tazed me in the butthole! I fell to the ground! The phonies wouldn't let up, tazin' on my butthole over and over! I was screaming and squirming, my butthole was on fire! The moral of the story is, you can't trust the system. Man! ~[ths] Keeper of the Bloodwine My Farticles. Qaplá'! Are you bigger than cheeses? 19:27, 12/22/2011
I AM SAILING! I AM SAILING! THROUGH THE OCEAN!!!!! I AM SAILING!!!!!!
THIS IS STUPID, ROD STEWART LYRICS DO NOT QUALIFY FOR A SECTION HEADER!!! File:Monkey-butler.jpg Island Monkey - Throw a banana 15:38, 22 Ditzimber 2011 (UTC)
So, I was getting groceries the other day, and this woman walks up to me and asks, "is this where you go for a bucket of swine flu?" And I thought, this woman must be nuts, when providentially I was struck down hard by a towering display of cashews. Then the commotion started down at the far end, when the freezer cases are, and some Cambodian family was transmuting ice cream into gold. A crowd began to gather, both around me and my mess, and the Khmer alchemists, and I thought, "we're not talking Cecil B. DeMille, here. Space aliens didn't land 47 kilometers south of Paris in 1066 by coincidence."
A snarky fellow with an ill-fitting overcoat at once came into view, just as Gilgamesh was an epic and grandstanding idiots with recessive tails and slow thinking pilchard followers approach the singularity.
- Stop looking at your watch! Rick Keyer forbids it.
Humanist propaganda contains the seeds of mutation coddling. Thus, Che Guevara was formed.
So, when in history did exposed womens' breasts become such a big deal? I mean, really.
When a shoe doesn't fit no more, is it a shoe? Or an ornament? Or even a solid leather pocket unattatched to your pants? I had some pants once. They were great. But instead I have to wear shoes to compensate. Well, I would if the bloody shoe fit!!!! Ho ho ho! Gawd elp mi!
“You, sir, are incorrect.”
PIRATE SO BRAVE, OF THE SEVEN SEAS!
MYSTICAL QUEST, TO THE ISLE OF TORTUGA
- Paragraph 7 states that any and all orders from ChatIntZyulcUtreXmall must be routed through the gefilte filter. I CANNOT OVERSTATE THE IMPORTANCE OF THIS. IGNORE AT PERIL OF UNEMPLOYMENT!
- Paragraph 7 states that any and all orders from ChatIntZyulcUtreXmall must be routed through the gefilte filter. I CANNOT OVERSTATE THE IMPORTANCE OF THIS. IGNORE AT PERIL OF UNEMPLOYMENT!
“...over a one-celled Hammond organizm...”
OG Stuttgart Klackon! Mrrshan Diplomacy! grimaced as it bore it's 7000 kilogram load down the narrow corridor leading to the docks. Froogybeasts littered the path, skittering primarily thither into the twilit corners, where rampart extensions jutted onto the common folk spaces. Lazarus tumbled down a three stair flight tramshackle over the OG's head and splattered to a halt abruptly with fogey intent. It was at this point that the grapes began to ripen, and all heaven set itself in order.
That was the Night of the Sofa, a memorable occasion made so by such as those who can't remember their own names half the time, and can't sing the other half. The latter didn't matter so much, since the caliber of the compositions themselves were manifestly divine. A dog will not call you The Chrome Dinette, no matter how hard you try.
The United Nations recently banned "Frunobulax Poop" as a weapon of mass disgust, foremost in a list of 54 disgusting substances. Others include Klezmer, pureed rodents, santorum and owl pellets.
I'LL VANDALISE YOUR MAINPAGE!
AND I'LL KILL YOUR GRANDMOTHER!
- And you know who else will vandalize my mainpage? MMMY MOM!!!
The Illogicopedia War of the English and Americans is heating up again.
It says, "Add your mad gibber here", as though it's obvious. Is it your mad gibber they are really after? What it they'd misspelled "gibbons"? What if they're really looking for gibbons, trying to build a gibbon army, with which to subdue the forces of wisdom and light? Then where would we be?
EWxceeed action or the article that wrote itself happened during a freak storm, when waterspouts dotted the Colorado landscape everywhere higher than 77 feet above sea level. Legumes were brought in from adjacent states for morale purposes, but the enemy was in sight. Run!
"That is sorta mental", she thought, while combing the Baconaise out of her hair. Bits of bacon kept flying off, like errant toenails from a booger-eating spaz. She thumbed through grainy black and whites of old-timey cars and filigreed PVC piping. Under the sink, leeches simmered in the lobster pot, briny in a sauce of strained carrots, sea salt, fatback, tumeric, crickets and white wine.
Shortly after the introduction of the Lossy cheese integrator, the Gainy cheese integrator surpassed all expectations of potatoe-headed Bombay.
...so, she sneezed in the middle of her trumpet solo! It was hilarious! Snot actually flew out of the bell!
When Dracula lost his arm, he was quite upset. I could hear him clear across B deck by the docking array. Principles signaled Earth for instructions, since vampires in space were not covered in the manual. Snickering, the gringo said, "Where's all the white women at?".
WHAT IS THIS, I DON'T EVEN NUMBERS ARE WEIRD.
An Inconvenient Chicken pulsates deeply in the Earth, biding its time, waiting for the next opportunity to wreak havoc upon all humans. Only by the intercession of the banana god will we be saved. ?pedians will get directions to emergency inconvenient chicken fallout shelters in their email. Others will perish under the chickeny smiting.
A song once said "Strange days, have found us. Strange days, have tracked us down." Well, I'm not one to doubt that song. These are some strange days if The Idiotical.com has suddenly become funnier than Illogicopedia.
Luckily, that's not likely to happen anytime soon... *shifty eyes*
Some of us ought to have our poetic licenses revoked.
“I WHIP MAI EARLOBES BACK AND FORTH I WHIP MAI EARLOBES BACK AND FORTH I WHIP MAI EARLOBES BACK AND FORTH I WHIP MAI EARLOBES BACK AND FORTH”
~The Ferengi version of "Whip My Hair" by Willow Smith
AID EPOC IGOLLI IS ACTUALLY UNCYCLOPEDIA SPELLED BACKWRDS!!!
AND AID EPOL CYCNU IS ACTUALLY...UM...EH?
Hercules traded salad forks in the Middle East during his tenure as baritone spambot. Pictures of his ants were uploaded to the Rogue Elementals Wiki during the Quaker Rebellion of 1895.
Incidentally, we were thinking of tearing out the filigree from the nauseatium.
Look, a salamander!
- eeeerrefeftrtrfeeeee
...oh my.
honk.
HONK.
honk.
HOOOOOONK. :o)
real friendlike of you to be droppin by.
HONKhonkHONKhonk.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I'm about to give away the answer to Illogicopedia's biggest secret! The answer to what Aid Epoc Igolli means is-- BLAM!
We are sorry, but This user was about to give away Illogicopedia's biggest secret. Do not worry, however, there will be no more killings.- Okay, here I go. The answer to Aid Epoc Igolli is-- BLAM!
Once again, we admins could not allow this to happen, we are sorry for your loss.- Okay, I won't tell you the secret to Aid Epoc Igolli. But, by the way, it is merely Illogicopedia backwards! Ha! I said it! What are you going to do about me now, admi-- BLAM!
- Okay, here I go. The answer to Aid Epoc Igolli is-- BLAM!
- Really, all it means is "blam". Trust me, I'm an admin. —rms talk 17:49, 2 Ergust 2011 (UTC)
- I'll never trust you, NEVER!!! You killed my father!!! <css>
.dannyboy {; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; } .dannyboy a:hover { text-decoration: none } </css>~[thehappyspaceman] 17:59, 08/2/2011
![[thehappyspaceman]](/w/index.php?title=Special:Upload&wpDestFile=Ths.jpg){kind=link}
You just scrolled down to the bottom of this list of nonsense.