Badjim.com

December 31, 2008

Happy New Year

Filed under: Clean, Jim's Bad Holidays — Bad Jim @ 3:25 pm

Resolutions You Can Actually Keep…

10. Read less.

9. I want to gain weight. Put on at least 30 pounds.

8. Stop exercising.

7. Watch more TV. I’ve been missing some good stuff.

6. Procrastinate more.

5. Drink. Drink some more.

4. Start being superstitious.

3. Spend more time at work.

2. Stop bringing lunch from home: I should eat out more.

and last but not least…

1. Take up a new habit: maybe smoking!

December 25, 2008

What if Santa wrote back?

Filed under: Jim's Bad Holidays — Bad Jim @ 5:57 am

MERRY CHRISTMAS!
No Christmas is complete until you’ve read this classic……. Compliments of Rigger Robert:
deer santa:
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur fer Xmas. Iv ben a gud boy all yeer.
Yer Frend, Eddy

Dear Eddy,
Nice spelling. You’re on your way to a career in lawn care. How about I give you a fucking book so you can learn to read and write? I’m giving your older brother the space ranger. At least HE can spell!
Santa

Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is peace and joy in the world for everybody!
Love,
Sarah

Dear Sarah,
Your parents smoked crack when they had you, didn’t they?
Santa

Dear Santa,
I don’t know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I’d like for my mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can do.
Love,
Teddy

Dear Teddy,
Look, your dad’s banging the babysitter like a screen door in a hurricane. Do you think he’s gonna give that up to come back to your frigid, fat-ass mom, who rides his ass constantly? It’s time to give up that dream. Let me get you some nice Legos instead. Maybe you can build yourself a family with those?
Santa

Dear Santa,
I want a new bike, a Play station, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a drum kit, a pony and a tuba.
Love,
Francis

Dear Francis,
Who names their fuckin’ kid ‘Francis’ nowadays? I giving you a doll instead because I bet you’re gay.
Santa

Dear Santa ,
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots for your reindeer outside the back door.
Love,
Susan

Dear Susan,
Milk gives me the shits and carrots make the deer fart in my face when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Two words, Jim Beam.
Santa

Dear Santa,
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy making toys?
Your friend,
Marty

Dear Marty,
All the toys are made by little kids like you in China . Every year I give them a slice of bread as a Christmas bonus. I have a condo in Vegas, where I spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind by drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail waitresses while losing money at the craps table.
Santa
P.S. Tell your mom she got the part.

Dear Santa,
Do you see us when we’re sleeping, do you really know when we’re awake, like in the song?
Love,
Paul

Dear Paul,
Are you really that fuckin’ gullible? Good luck in whatever you do. I’m skipping your house you little dick.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I really really want a puppy this year.
Please please please PLEASE PLEASE could I have one?
C.J.

C.J.
That whiney begging shit may work with your folks, but that shit doesn’t work with me. You’re getting an ugly sweater again.
Santa

Dearest Santa,
We don’t have a chimney in our house, how do you get into our home?
Love,
Marky

Mark,
First, stop calling yourself ‘Marky’, that’s why you’re getting your ass kicked at school. Second, you don’t live in a house, you live in a low-rent, ghetto apartment complex. Third, I get inside your pad just like all the burglars do, through your bedroom window.
Sweet Dreams,
Santa

December 24, 2008

Santa Is A Woman

Filed under: Clean, Jim's Bad Holidays — Bad Jim @ 6:40 pm

From Mrs. Bad Jim:
I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe he’s a she. Think about it. Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing, social deal, and I have a tough time believing a guy could possibly pull it all off!

For starters, the vast majority of men don’t even think about selecting gifts until Christmas Eve. Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. On this count alone, I’m convinced Santa is a woman.

Surely, if he were a man, everyone in the universe would wake up Christmas morning to find a rotating musical Chia Pet under the tree, still in the shopping bag.

Another problem for a he-Santa would be getting there. First of all, there would be no reindeer because they would all be dead, gutted and strapped on to the rear bumper of the sleigh amid wide-eyed, desperate claims that buck season had been extended. Blitzen’s rack would already be on the way to the taxidermist.

Other reasons why Santa can’t possibly be a man:

- Men can’t pack a bag.

- Men would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet.

- Men would feel their masculinity is threatened.. . having to be seen with all those elves.

- Men don’t answer their mail.

- Men would refuse to allow their physique to be described, even in jest, as anything remotely resembling a “bowl full of jelly.”

- Men aren’t interested in stockings unless somebody’s wearing them.

- Having to do the Ho Ho Ho thing would seriously inhibit their ability to pick up women.

- Finally, being responsible for Christmas would require a commitment.

-I can buy the fact other mythical holiday characters are men:
Father Time shows up once a year unshaven and looking ominous. Definite guy.
Cupid flies around carrying weapons.
Uncle Sam is a politician who likes to point fingers.
Any one of these individuals could pass the testosterone screening test.

December 23, 2008

Joke for thot

Filed under: Clean, Groaners — Bad Jim @ 5:13 pm

Yesterday evening, I had to change a light bulb. Later I crossed the road and walked into a bar.

I realized my life was a big joke.

December 21, 2008

Chinese ‘classical poem’ was brothel ad

Filed under: In the News — Bad Jim @ 9:54 am

From Dr Andy in Austin:
Science journal mistakenly uses flyer for Macau brothel to illustrate report on China

By Clifford Coonan in Beijing
Tuesday, 9 December 2008
The Chinese script on the journal cover, which was actually a brothel advert

A respected research institute wanted Chinese classical texts to adorn its journal, something beautiful and elegant, to illustrate a special report on China. Instead, it got a racy flyer extolling the lusty details of stripping housewives in a brothel.

Chinese characters look dramatic and beautiful, and have a powerful visual impact, but make sure you get the meaning of the characters straight before jumping right in.

There were red faces on the editorial board of one of Germany’s top scientific institutions, the Max Planck Institute, after it ran the text of a handbill for a Macau strip club on the front page of its latest journal. Editors had hoped to find an elegant Chinese poem to grace the cover of a special issue, focusing on China, of the MaxPlanckForschung journal, but instead of poetry they ran a text effectively proclaiming “Hot Housewives in action!” on the front of the third-quarter edition. Their “enchanting and coquettish performance” was highly recommended.

The use of traditional Chinese characters and references to “the northern mainland” seem to indicate the text comes from Hong Kong or Macau, and it promises burlesque acts by pretty-as-jade housewives with hot bodies for the daytime visitor.

The Max Planck Institute was quick to acknowledge its error explaining that it had consulted a German sinologist prior to publication of the text. “To our sincere regret … it has now emerged that the text contains deeper levels of meaning, which are not immediately accessible to a non-native speaker,” the institute said in an apology. “By publishing this text we did in no way intend to cause any offence or embarrassment to our Chinese readers.”

But publication of the journal caused some anger among touchier internet users in China who felt the institute had done it on purpose to insult China, or that it was disrespectful to use Chinse as a decoration. But generally, the faux-pas sparked much amusement among Chinese readers.

On anti-cnn.com, a foreigner-baiting website set up after a commentator on the US broadcaster made anti-Chinese comments following the crackdown in Tibet in March, the reaction was mostly “evil fun”. One wrote, “Next time, please find a smart Chinese graduate to check your translation”, and another said they should try writing “I am illiterate”.

The journal has since been updated online and its cover now carries the title of a book by the Swiss Jesuit, Johannes Schreck (1576–1630). The Jesuit text in question was “Illustrated Explanations of Strange Devices”.

Chinese is a tonal language, which means words sounding the same can often have very different meanings depending on how they are spoken.

There are tales of drunken teenagers walking out of tattoo parlours with characters reading, “This is one ugly foreigner” or “A fool and his money are easily parted”.

Another web-user wrote: “I recently met a German girl with a Chinese tattoo on her neck which in Chinese means ‘prostitute’. I laughed so loud, I could hardly breathe.”

December 19, 2008

New motto

Filed under: Clean, Ethnic/Regional Jokes — Bad Jim @ 9:44 am

From Mom in Indiana:
The new motto for the State of Illinois:

“Illinois: Where our governors make our license plates.”

December 18, 2008

Xmas groaner

Filed under: Groaners, Jim's Bad Holidays — Bad Jim @ 3:32 am

Classic Christmas oldie from Steve in Pearland, TX:
A Russian couple was walking down the road when Ivan felt a drop of something land on his nose.

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘the first snow of the winter.’

‘No,’ said his wife, Olga. ‘I think youll find that it is raining.’

‘No, it was snow,’ insisted Ivan. Just then they spotted Rudolph Kroninsky, head of the
Russian Communist Party, walking towards them.

‘Comrade Kroninsky,’ said Ivan, taking off his cap. ‘Would you be so kind as to tell
us whether it is snowing or raining?’

‘Raining, Comrades,’ he said and walked on.

‘No, no, no’ insisted Ivan, ‘he’s wrong’

His wife looked at him pityingly and said: ‘”Rudolph, the Red, knows rain, dear.’

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