Waxing nostalgic for the days of being easily amused. Day 4 of the flu, hallucinating, and wanting myself and everyone I know to legally change their name. Warning: only makes sense if you are high on wine and Thera-flu.

At work the other day the new intern and I got to talking about bizarre websites we've wound up visiting over the years. I say "wound up" specifically; I mean all the sites you had to connect the dots to get to, or happened upon while searching for something more meaningful, or stumbled into by punching random words into a search engine. We brought up all the back-log, sites that are, by now, pre-requisite reference material, linked via email and weblog ad nauseam a million times over by each new 'discoverer'. Because I'm a few (**cough** fifteen) years older than she, some of the sites I mentioned pre-date her a bit, probably came and went before she ever graduated middle school (for example, she'd never heard of Burt Is Evil. A site I'd link to had its creator not removed it from his server eons ago after extreme pressure to do so --which, lucky for him, happened to correspond with the over-saturation of [and public boredom with] the whole idea. I mean, how 1995, right? Wait. [doing math in head] Yep. Just about the time miss NYU intern was entering High School).

But ultimately, we found the meme defies age gaps. Nearly all of the sites we mentioned had been seen by the other, the old favorites brining exclamations of Oh my God!: we were bonding.

"Remember Pixie Guy? OH MY GOD!! [both googling at our desks] what ever happened to Pixie Peter Pan Guy? Was he for real? Did he ever find a Tinkerbell?"

And then the 'for real' part became the focus of the conversation. We agreed that the most disturbing (and therefore --admit it-- fun) kind of website in general, are the ones you just can't figure. The content might be brilliant satire way beyond our feeble ability to comprehend; it might be the maniacal ravings of some dude who is, as we speak, deep-frying a squirrel in his trailer. (Or who knows, both.) We discounted the most blatantly disturbing; the mega-violent, racist, murderous, pedophiliac. Sites glorifying non-concentual torture or sex, or cruelty to animals (like the German B&D import hobby 'crushing' where you get all three). None of that. No. Just the things that make you go, hmmm? The Peter Pan guy.

"Have you ever seen any of those sites for people with, I don't know how to explain it, a Godzilla foot fetish?" she asked.

I laughed. "You're kidding."

"No! Its like, pictures of lizard feet, about to stomp you. Or cartoon humans licking big lizard feet."

"Licking lizard feet. So it's like, a sexual thing?" I asked, innocent.

"I don't know. You never know. I mean, you'd just have to see it."

I googled along until I found the one of the sites she had described. There they were. Whole websites dedicated either the licking of, or the being stomped by, Godzilla-like feet. We clicked through the images. (sfw)

"I don't get it." I said. "Is it kid fantasy? Hentai submission? Just drawings?"

"I can't figure it out."

"A whole website of drawings from the perspective of... what? the soon to be smushed?"

"I know."

"Not that my brain immediately goes to the gutter, but... why do I assume someone is jerking off to this?"

"Me too. I don't know."

"But, why?"

"Right?"

So, if viewing those images made you sexually aroused, please explain it to me. I will not judge you or mock you...get your rocks off to cartoon lizard feet at will, my friend. Just help me understand.

Anyway, the intern and I exchanged a few more gems. Oldies and goodies. Some new I had not heard of, some she had not. All in all it got me waxing nostalgic (like I said in the title had you been paying attention dammit **achoo**) for some simple tomfoolery. Below: a sampling of such. Hope this carries you through the weekend since I plan to get back into bed and stay there until Kerry and Edwards announce they are joining forces. Or I stem the phlem tide. Either or.

The Abuse-a-Tron. For those days you just can't get up the energy to self-deprecate.

Toiletnet. Hey, it takes all kinds.

Location Earth Dog Tags. In case you're abducted and forgot where you live.

The Twinkies Project. No. Not that kind of twinkie. The snack cake. No, NOT that kind of snack cake.

Rectal Foreign Bodies, dedicated to exposing fact from fiction, the real-deal from the urban myth, in cases of people who, you know, get stuff stuck up in their butt.

The First Church of Jesus Christ, Elvis. Love him, tender.

The Mystical Smoking Head of Bob. Like a magic 8 Ball, with a cardigan and a pipe.

oo. Keep clicking. You'll get it after awhile.

The end of the internet.

Living dead dolls. I don't know. Some people have a lot of free time.

Live. Forever.

The Mother of All Excuses. Don't know how to call in sick? This is your place to learn. Piss people off a lot? Then you need the apology note generator.

Kicking ass can be tough. But not with the world's only ass kicking machine.

Fat is only ugly...til you put a nipple on it.

The institute of official cheer. Go for the graphics. Stay for the deconstruction.

And before I pass out, if you've never followed any of my links to weebls stuff, do it now.

In closing: everybody to the limit, everybody to the limit, everybody fhqwhgads. Yes.

Posted by Antigeist at March 3, 2004 03:49 PM