All Apologies

Hello!

This is just a short post today.

See ya!

Hahaha! I crack me up.

No, the real purpose of this post is just to explain my distinct absence from the wacky World Wide Web this week. Since Monday, I've barely set foot upon the virtual super-highway, let alone driven a big truck of comedic wonder down it.

That is because my real, paying job (as tedious and unfulfilling as it is) has decided to gobble up as many of my life's precious hours as possible this week. I've been shackled with three ten hour shifts in a row, PLUS I had to attend a stupid staff meeting at midnight tonight, which was RUBBISH, and has left me with no free hours in which to masturbate write my usual HILARIOUS 'stuff'.


I'll be working over the week-end too, but for those who care, I hope to update The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely tomorrow night-ish, and then do a new gaup on Monday-ish. Ish.

So: apologies for not frequenting everyone's fine blogs as much as I would like, and for failing to respond to e-mails and other such gubbins. And of course, I'm truly sorry for depriving you all of my incredible, shining wit and wondrousness.

Normal business will resume ASAP, unless I choose to sleep for a hundred years.

Be right back, chums!

- Fanton.

Egg-cellence

Happy Easter, chums!

As the technology does not yet exist to send chocolate directly through wires and into your mouth, I'll have to give you this excellent Easter gift instead.

ENJOY.

- Fanton


(The above animation was created by the egg-stremely talented Michael Whaite, a thoroughly good egg himself.)

Flogging A Dead Dog

It seems I was not alone in my hatred for those effing lolcats.

Slowly but surely, the RIPdogs phenomenon has attracted loyal supporters like flies around, well, a dead dog, I suppose.

neOnbubble was the first to leap upon the morbid bandwagon, when Mark Hooper came up with two fine additions to the RIPdogs canon of his very own, giving the RIPdogs movement a much-needed shot in the paw.

Then, Mr. Scaryduck, a good judge of excellence himself, gave the RIPdogs a glowing endorsement in this post, which lead to literally many people dropping by the Sickbag to see what all the fuss was about.

Two of these many visitors then clasped the rotting canine corpses to their chests, and chose to highlight this brand new craze in their own blogs.

Sigg3 chose the RIPdogs as his link of the day, and also provided a fine link of his own, containing an image which could be seen as the very first RIPdog. Except not dead.

James Shearhart, of Elysium Asylum followed next, giving the RIPdogs a quick nod in his own fine blog.

Phew! Thanks, everyone, for lending your support to the RIPdogs cause. Soon, we shall have those lolcats (or as I hilariously like to dub them, 'loltwats') scampering back up their virtual tree, where they can stay for all ruddy eternity, as far as I'm concerned.

BUT WAIT! It's not over yet. As the owner of many fine blogs myself, I am in completely the right position to help my own cause, by instigating cross-platform promotion and developing a synergistic approach to branding, or some such bollocks that marketing men might say.

What I'm basically trying to say is that there are fresh RIPdogs (well, as fresh as they can be, in their condition) over on my HILARIOUS showbiz parody magazine, gaup.

Here's a sneaky preview:

Now go check out the rest.

Rest in Peace, out there.

- Fanton.

RIPdogs

What is it with lolcats?

I think I've well and truly missed the boat with this particular internet phenomenon, whereby people caption pictures of cats doing stuff, using nothing but 'lolspeak'.

These fuzzy bastards have been turning up all over the web, like some kind of whiskered virus. Hell, even The Observer recently declared icanhazcheeseburger - the site which coughs up these pictures like a cat would a furball - as being one of the 50 most powerful blogs on the web.

Christ on a donkey.

Therefore, I have decided that spending hours trying to write lengthy stories about drunken aristocrats and stupid celebrities is a complete and utter waste of my time, when I could be coining it in for doing nothing more than sticking a few words on a picture.

I have seen the future, and it is furry.

So, using the formula that acronym + animal = internet infamy, may I present to you my latest creation:

RIPdogs.

RIPdogs feature pictures of dead dogs, accompanied by two simple captions; one detailing the deceased dog's name and life-span, and one explaining how the canine came to be expired - with HILARIOUS results!

I tell you, it'll be the internet phenomenon to end all internet phenomenons.

BEHOLD!

Man, I can almost hear the thunder of approaching visitors and money-hungry advertisers.

Go on - try it yourself!

- Fanton.

RIPdog UPDATE: In less than 24 hours after launching this latest viral phenomenon, fresh RIPdogs have appeared on the frankly excellent neOnbubble site.

I salute Mark Hooper for his good work, and urge EVERYONE ELSE to now go forth and make their own RIPdogs, so that they may clog up the virtual super-highway like a ten-lane lorry spill. Get to it, my lovelies!


(DISCLAIMER: No dogs were actually harmed in the making of this web sensation. All images are actually of dogs sleeping, obtained from stock.xchang. So please do not mourn them. Yet.)

Weekend? What weekend?

I hate it when I get an idea.

Since Friday, when I first thought of creating a new website, I've been plugging away at making the bloody thing, wrote several posts, spent hours grappling with code, made some pictures, and then put it all together.

Now, it's finally done. Hoo-fucking-ray!

Behold the fruits of my tireless labours: gaup, a spoof celebrity news site featuring a whole load of stuff, including a lovely picture of a colon, and a half-naked Billie Piper.

I hope you guys like it. At least pretend you do. You have no idea how long I spent slaving over hot pixels for it.

And THEN I even did a new post for Lord Likely, and now I feel like I want to sleep FOREVER. Sometimes I think I must be a mental case. I have no idea why I do this to myself.

It must be for the chicks.

"Thanks, Fanton!"

Bloody hell. That wasn't very funny, was it?

Well, I think that proves that my brain is officially shutting down now. Plus, I think my eyes are melting. So I'm going to try and catch at least thirty winks.

Tara!

- Fanton.

Lighten Up!

Behold, loyal readers! A brave new era dawns upon Digital Sickbag, as we unveil are slightly new look!

Basically, all we did was change the background colour from black to white, and added a spiffy new header.

But still, it looks pretty good, yeah? To be honest, the old colour scheme was starting to depress me, as it felt like I was hiding in a darkened corner of the internet, like some kind of filthy pervert or something.

Now, it looks a lot brighter and more inviting, don't you think?

DON'T YOU?

In other news, I hope to be launching another EXCELLENT website soon, destined to go down in history as the Greatest Thing Ever Made By Man, and fully justifying the creation of the internet.

Or it might just be stupid and filled with nob-gags.

UPDATE: here is a little promotional piece for the forthcoming New Site of Excellence:

INTRIGUE!

Well, it seems like the future's going to be sticky, and full of sick.

HOORAY!

- Fanton.

Thank You, Jesus, For Your Sweet Buns

I am not a particularly religious man, but around about this time of year I cannot help but drop to my knees and give thanks to our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ for his supreme sacrifice. If it was not for Jesus dying on the cross for all our sins, I would not be here right now enjoying a plate of delicious hot cross buns.

I really love hot cross buns. Of all the buns, they are probably my favourite, but they are a largely seasonal treat, lining shop shelves in the run up to Easter. Sure, you CAN find them in some stores during the rest of the year, but it is only around Easter time that they suddenly start appearing everywhere - and better still, they seem to come down in price and get bundled in all sorts of 'Buy One Pack, Get One Free' deals.

Truly, this is a glorious time of year for the hot cross bun aficionado.

Despite my love of the humble hot cross bun, I can't say I really know all that much about them, except that a) they're not hot and b) they're really tasty. I don't have a clue about how they came to be, or who was the first bright spark to conceive the idea of putting a cross on a bun in order to commemorate the passing of the Messiah. Maybe the hot cross bun represents a really early example of merchandising at its most crude.

Whatever the genesis of the idea, I would have dearly liked to have sat in on that particular meeting...

(The scene is set at Bernie's Buns, a small food stall in Jerusalem).

Bernie, the Bun Salesman: Hey, Abe - did you hear the news? That Jesus fellah is going to be crucified today.

Abe: What, the Son of God? Bloody hell, they don't muck about, these Romans.

Bernie, the Bun Salesman: I know, I know. It's tragic, is what it is.

Abe: Yeah, yeah. Terrible.

Bernie, the Bun Salesman: Yeah.

[PAUSE]

Bernie, the Bun Salesman: But I was thinking, Abe...sales of our delicious buns have been really sluggish, lately. An', well, everyone's talkin' about this crucifixion...so what about if we were to start, well...putting little crosses on the buns?

Abe: Little crosses? That's a touch morbid, ain't it? Next you'll be tellin' me folk will want to wear little crosses around their necks!

Bernie, the Bun Salesman: Hear me out, Abe. I think there's a market for it, I really do. Everyone loves a good crucifixion, and people love buns. Why not bring together these seemingly disparate and unrelated strands together in one wholesome, baked good?

Abe: Are you suggestin' that as Jesus Christ - Our Lord and Saviour and the Son of God - lies dyin' on the cross for all our sins so that we may gain entry to the Kingdom of Heaven upon our death, that we cash in on his indescribably painful death with a cheap, novelty bun?

Bernie, the Bun Salesman: Well...yeah.

Abe: I like it! Quick, pass me some icing.

I think that's probably almost exactly what happened. Either that, or the other option is that Jesus was actually crucified upon a giant bun.



Whatever the truth, hot cross buns are excellent, and I give praise for them.

Although I'm probably going to Hell now for this post, but then at least I'll be guaranteed some really hot cross buns down there.

- Fanton.