YEEEEEEES!!!

From Billy West's blog:
I'm this close to selling my show--''Billy Bastard--Amateur Human Being,'' And the other good news is that they're doing 26 new episodes of ''Futurama'' for TV and we're hammering out the deal now. The original plan was to have the DVDs first but that's no longer the case. I'm totally jammed dude. Greetings from the year 3000! It still sucks! Billy

Oh, Fuck yeah! I'm so jazzed right now that I'm using words like 'jazzed'.
This is the best news that I've heard in a long while (which proves what a huge honking dweeb I am), but I don't care.

Futurama, Futurama, Futurama, Futurama, Futurama woo-hoo!

Who Would Win In A Fight Between Meth-Heads, a Koala, and a Fresh-Water Crocodile?

I'll give you a hint:

Apparently, The MENSA club of Queensland decided that they could get drug money by breaking into the zoo and selling the pilfered critters for drugs. Obviously a fiasco ensued. First, they go after a koala to trade for meth. They get their asses KICKED. Then they decide that the obvious replacement is a fresh-water croc, which they get away with, and swap for some marijuana and speed.

How the fuck does that drug deal go down?
Dealer: Yo man, You got the money?
Junkie (holding a writhing bag): No, but I gots three tree sloths and a river-otter.
Dealer: You on.

For the full account you gotta read the article.

Once Again, Life Imitates The Onion

Article from today's CNN Money page.

The Onion article from 2000.
---
Another Onion Flashback - Man, I remember back when this was funny. How I long for the more innocent days of 2000 (or as we used to call it, 'Y2K'). This was the time when you could smoke in bars, gas cost only $2 per gallon, terrorists were the crazy right-wing rednecks, and boy-bands roamed the Earth. Ah, it seem like only yesterday.

Sprung

Since everyone thinks that all I do is bitch out into the blogosphere, I figured it was time to do a "happy" post.

Finally the temperature is starting to consistently break to 70 degree mark, the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, the leaves are beginning to sprout forth from the bare branches, and the sun is shining bright through the clear sky.

I love it when it looks like winter is finally behind us, and all we have to look forward to is 6 months of beautiful days ahead.

All is good.
---
Now, wasn't that fucking gay? Don't you wish that I'd have written a bitter rant instead?

Well then, Here you are:
---
New & Improved Post

You can tell that the seasons have changed when the following things happen:

a) The fucking tourists clog up the streets and public transit, like pus clogs up a syphilitic cock. The main difference being; that pus doesn't get mad when you attempt to dislodge it. That's not to mention the herds of 'Segway' tourists rolling through the streets like a gang of retarded cyborgs sent back from a dystopic Disneyland future.

b) The rat farmers crawl out from what ever bridge they decided to drink away the winter under and storm the streets with filthy disease-ridden aplomb. You can't even get outside the goddamn door without being rushed by a crowd of CHUDS palms outstretched, or tripping over a garbage laden shopping cart.

c) All of the snow melts leaving the winter detritus to ooze out over the city. Everywhere you look are rancid piles of discarded chicken bones, used condoms, scratched lotto tickets, shattered bottles of Mad Dog 20/20, punctuated by the occasional syringe.

d) Due to the preceding two factors, the reek of stale urine, feces, and rotting garbage starts to lodge deep in your nostrils.

e) Whores drop the rabbit fur coats for the day-glow animal print spandex outfits. Frankly, I could have gone through the rest of my life without seeing your cellulite ridden hairy gut bisected by a hysterectomy scar hanging out over your waistband. Jesus.

Yeah, motherfucking spring is here. I think I'll observe this glorious transitional season by putting on my winter ski-mask, grabbing my summer baseball bat, and going out on the town to weed out some of the April fools.

See, now isn't that better?

1980's Japanese Video Game Rap Video

Oh, Snap!

What happens when you mix together J-rap, cross dressing, Rubber suit monsters, choreographed dance, and The Legend of Zelda?

For the answer click HERE.

The Best Story I Can't Tell You

I've been slammed all week with a SINGLE work-related project that involves:

- Terminally ill, severely retarded children
- A third-tier country-western singer
- The United States Congress
and
- A gay* karaoke night

Unfortunately, since this was work-related I can't say a word about it up on the inter-web.
If you see me, make me tell you this story. If you don't see me, just make up your own story using ALL of the aforementioned entities.
---

*homosexual gay, not 'Snakes on a Plane' gay

Floral Fixation

I took the new camera out around the neighborhood this weekend, and have about 3 new pages of photos to show for it. If you like artsy-fartsy pictures of flowers, boy are you in luck. Check 'em out HERE.

Theater Lobbyist

Today I took a couple hours off from lobbying to go out and see a movie about lobbying. I never go out to movies (the last movie I went to see in the theaters was the newest Star Wars flick). This afternoon my buddy Steve called me up to see if I wanted to go; I had nothing going on, I'd read a lot of great reviews for the film, and the theater is only 2 1/2 blocks from my office, so I decided to give it a shot.

If any of you want to know what I do for a living - Go see this movie. It was really, really, really good, and actually made me proud of my vocation. Good stuff, and crazy-funny.

When I came out of the theater, the first thing I saw was the Washington Monument blinking in the distance. On the way back to the office I passed by Ford's Theater and Lincoln's place of death. I looked around at the Capitol and down the street toward the White House. I realized that I was in the cradle of the most powerful government on Earth, and I'm paid to subvert it. I couldn't have been happier.

Snakes on a Plane, Motherfuckers

Attention all Musicians: You can get your music featured in next Summer's sure-fire blockbuster hit. *


For More info on SoaP, click HERE.
---

*Make sure to check out the trailer on this site.

Bleah

Man, I'm still in a funk* out here. It's still grey and cold, and things are still pretty fucked on the PR front. I even got a fucking "separated at birth" comparison to a member of NSync in National Journal (ah, the price of notoriety). Bastards.

I really don't have much to report, except I plan to come back to IL for a weekend sometime either in late April or over Memorial Day weekend. I'll keep you posted.
---

* not the cool Parliament/Funkadelic kind, but rather the Eeyore/Morrisey variety

First Day of Spring

Today was the first day of Spring.

Here in DC it was a cold grey day with strong winds blowing grit and dust into your eyes and mouth. About a week ago it was in the 70s, and everyone went out to dig their gardens. Now the ground has refrozen leaving a sheen of windward projectiles to whip through the air.
Today in my neighborhood there was the strong stench of diesel fuel from the construction projects carried on the wind- Black smoke billowing upward into the bleak sky.
Walking to work this morning I was freezing my ass off, spitting out sand, being pushed backward by the wind, and choking on gas fumes.

I'm usually automatically in a good mood on the first day of spring, but today I just couldn't get into a very "Spring" mood. It didn't help that once at work, a pile of news clippings about me had consumed my desktop. I spent the morning going over clippings from every major US paper, and several from overseas, which snarkily questioned my relationship with an unnamed client (if you read any paper, I'm sure you saw a variant).

I popped a Xanax for lunch, spent the rest of the day doing busy-work, and rectifying a few financial problems I was having with my fiscal intermediary (because who doesn't enjoy dealing with customer service lines all afternoon).

I just got home and am thinking of cracking that bottle of Booker's I picked up this weekend.
It doesn't feel like Spring, but I'm still gonna celebrate the bastard - Because this means that it's only one lousy season before the oppressive heat of Summer takes hold, and God, do I love that. Honestly.

The Perfect Storm

Friday, March 17th 2006 - A day which will live in the annals of drunken douchbaggery...

All day Friday when someone would ask "What are you doing tonight for St. Pat's?", I'd swear up and down that the LAST place I wanted to be was at the bar with all of the drunken novices. I would then explain how that day was a 'perfect storm' scenario involving the following factors:
- St. Patrick's Day
- The NCAA tournament
- Friday
- Tourist starting to file into town for the fucking cherry blossoms

The preceding factors spelled out a pretty shitty scene out at the bar, so I was determined to sit this one out.

Around 4PM my buddy Steve gave me a call to see if I wanted to grab a quick one. What the hell, I haven't seen Steve in awhile - It'd be good to catch up over a beer (or two). I made it abundantly clear that I wanted to be far clear of the bar by 6PM when the work crowd started filing in, Steve agreed (he had to be home to his family by 6:30), and it was on.

We get to the bar; have a couple, and then Steve leaves. It's getting crowded, so I decide to finish my beer, and slip out.

Then came the shots.

My friend Lyn came in with her mom (visiting from London), grabbed me and forced me at gunpoint to drink a round of shots with them.
You need a chaser for the whiskey, so I order another beer. Now that I have a full beer, and Lyn was nice enough to buy me a shot, it would be rude to split without catching up.
Another round appears out of nowhere.
Plus, her mom is here from the UK, and I'm (in my mind after the second round of Jameson's) a goodwill ambassador of sorts. It's my job to make sure the Limeys are having the time of their lives, and I wouldn't want the Europeans to think that we Americans are uncivilized.
This involves me buying another round of whiskey shots, and another beer (all of a sudden the one I just ordered had emptied... must have spilled, or something).
BARKEEP!

Anita and Jes entered the bar and came over. They got there just in time to catch my charming soliloquy on the fall of the British Empire, and how in the spirit of the holiday we should go steal the drinks from those Irish faggots who were singing "Danny Boy" over in the corner.
I was doing a bang-up job of good-will ambassador, and was sure that the queen of England would be sure to give me a commendation once she heard of my servitude. So good, in fact, that I felt obligated to order another round of shots.

It was sometime around here that something weird happened it was either:
a) I was abducted by a UFO, cryogenically frozen for the remainder of the evening, replaced by a replicant with severe behavioral problems, and later had those memories implanted into my suspended conscience
-or-
b) An evil wizard cast a spell on me, reversing my personality from 'Charming Rogue' to 'Surly Jackass'

Anyway, things kinda' get "fuzzy" around this time:

- I remember moving down to the basement bar in order to fortify a good drinking stronghold.

- I remember that I decided that Jes would be my "stunt-girlfriend" for the night, which (apparently) involves doing shots and being picked up and spun around over my shoulder.

- I remember getting into it with some yuppie types because they were wearing green, which I claimed was tha gang color 'o' the Paddy McGuiness Street Brotherhood, who killed my brother.

- I remember screaming and laughing at the same time.

- I remember people buying me shots as 'peace offerings'.

At about 11PM The Girl calls with the obligatory "where the fuck are you, you said you'd be home 4 hours ago you asshole" call.
I figured that I had probably an equal chance of getting shot at the bar or getting shot at home, so I paid off the tabs (plural) and staggered out the door.

I didn't puke on the train!?!

I got home, and was still in surly-overdrive. The dog went and hid in the bathtub, and the girl wandered off to bed while I was mid rant about something.

Who needs them? I can have fun all by myself.

I poured a glass of Maker's, opened a Bass Ale, and woke up on the couch 6 hours later.

It might have been a shitty night to go out drinking, but I OWNED that fucker.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to correlate the subpoenas which I acquired that evening.

Drinkin' Tip

If you're hugging someone, they can't hit you.

I just learned that tonight - use it well.

- Sent From Blackberry Handheld -

Somebody Fucking Kill Me

I'm out at the bar - it's a total train-wreck. Christ, I'll have one
hell of a rant ready sometime tomorrow, but first I need another round of shots.

- Sent From Blackberry Handheld -

L&E Flashback

I'm going to try and post my (2nd) annual St. Patty's day rant today, but I have a series of meetings all day. I won't have the time to get to it until later (or tomorrow), so to hold you over here's last year's rant.

Could Someone Please Explain to Me Why This Isn't Funny

Deaf Texas beauty queen was text-messaging when hit by train

Close the Windows, and Bring In the Dog; I Feel a Shit Storm a-Brewin'

I've been having a totally crap week, and it looks like it's gonna get worse. I've just fielded about a half-dozen media inquiries, so keep an eye out for my happy ass in your local news rag.

It's nothing bad, but unless I want to get fired, this is all I can say:
A certain entity (which I may or may not work for) may have filed forms with an unnamed government agency. Said forms could have listed my potential work for an unnamed client. Media might have acquired said forms, and decided that they were newsworthy for reasons which will go unmentioned.

Simple as that. It's nothing; this shit happens all the time. Christ, is it frustrating.

Rock Show!

I'm at the Datsuns / Hellacopters show. It's pretty fucking 'rock'.

I'm drinking Bud and shootin' Beam. Tomorrow morning (at work) I won't be seen.

There's some drunk poetry fer ya. Choke on it.

- Sent From Blackberry Handheld -

New Flickr Photos

I haven't put up any new stuff on my Flickr page for awhile, so I made a point to go out and get some pics with my new camera. I'm still learning how to use the Lumix, but so far I've been really impressed. Check it out.

The Dumbening* Of Umerika

This fucker has been festering in my gut for several weeks now, so stand back while I get it out.

The Girl was watching the Winter Olympics closing ceremony a few weeks back, and NBC did the obligatory featurette on the shroud of Turin. The tone of the special had a very 'Touched By an Angel' feel to it, and they reported that "no one has any idea how this image came to be".
- this is the point in the evening when I started screaming at the TV, but we'll get to that later-
They went on to talk to religious scholars and pretty much concluded that the shroud was, truly, a fucking colorform of the 'Big J'. This was on a major network during prime-time.... WHAT THE FUCK?

What I was screaming:
"The fucking pope declared that fucking rag a hoax back in 1389. What the fuck is wrong with people, are we more gullible than those flat-earth lovin', plague-rat pettin', witch burnin' mother fuckers? Jesus tap-dancing Christ, the fucking shroud was fucking carbon-dated to the 13th or 14th centuries. There are dozens of explanations of where this fucking holy cum-rag came from, the least fucking likely answer being a mother-fucking drippy Jesus. FUUUUUCK!"
Or something to that effect.
The point is that I'm screaming at an inanimate object at the top of my lungs, The Girl is looking at me like I'm trying to stuff a rabid honey-badger down my drawers, and the dog went off to hide in the bathtub. I then sat down and begrudgingly continued to read my magazine.

Well, that stuck in my (proverbial) craw, and over the past few weeks I've noticed several other examples of this phenomena. The worst is on the Discovery Channel, the National Geographic Channel, The Learning Channel, and the History Channel; these used to be the educational networks, now they're just sensational, empty, fucking pablum. It's all crap about tattoos, cars, motorcycles, sports disasters, home renovation, ghosts, cryptozoological creatures, and U.F.fuckingO.s. Turn this shit on at any time of the fucking day, and you'll get some shit like this:
Is this actual footage of an alien autopsy , or video of Ed and the Old Dog double-teaming a blow-up doll? Well, no one knows for sure, but after this commercial break we'll have some German weirdo with HUGE fucking eyebrows and a pentagram pendant talk authoritatively of how this video proves that Bigfoot and the Druids founded Atlantis.

What happened? No wonder everyone in this country is so fucking stupid, Americans are led to believe that all of this crazy shit is fact. All of the aforementioned programs build up these myths, rather than debunk them. It's fucking stupid. Arrrrrrgh!

If you want to stare at a void to forget your lousy existence; then, by all means, go nuts with this dreck. If you want facts, watch Penn & Teller's 'Bullshit'.

And a special fucking note to TLC:
You're named the LEARNING Channel, not the 'Wild-Ass Speculation Channel'. Get your shit together; I live 2.5 miles south of your world headquarters (Discovery too) and own enough firepower to depose a 3rd world government - Don't give me a reason.

---
The "If you cant say something nice..." addendum:
I have to say that the History Channel's new series 'Declassified' is superb. It's your typical 'Inside the CIA' program, but with rapid flashing violent images accompanied by nu-metal guitar riffs between segments. For some reason, I fucking LOVE it - It's like catnip to me.
I Tivoed the 'Joseph Stalin' episode, and have watched it 3 or 4 times already - whenever it comes on, the dog hides (so you know it's good).

*yes, I know "dumbining" isn't a word - Neither is Umerika, you jackass.

Microsoft finally released the details on 'Origami'.
The only thing that bothers me is the short battery life, but come 2nd generation (once they work out all the bugs) I'll be all over this.
Gimme, Gimme, Gimme!

Excerpt: SEATTLE (Reuters) - Microsoft Corp. unveiled its 'Origami' project Thursday, a paperback-book sized portable computer, which is a hybrid between a laptop PC and a host of mobile devices that the world's biggest software maker hopes will create an entirely new market...

What do female babies, free speech, and kittens have in common?

China's media have launched a nationwide hunt for a glamorously dressed woman who has been photographed apparently crushing a kitten to death with her stiletto heels... Link (to full article, not the kitten crushing site - thank Christ).

This one falls under the 'seriously fucked-up' header.

Burning Bridges

I’m not sure if the following counts as an update or a rant. The only thing I know is that I should be posting it on Group Hug, rather than on the blog. But here it is; for some reason, I just don’t give a fuck. Enjoy.

I’ve been in a really foul mood since coming back to DC in December, and the frustration is starting to crest. I feel something is about to break, and I have no idea where I’ll end up once the dust settles.

I’ve put aside the work I’d been doing on the 1995 novel, and begun to focus exclusively on the 2005 material. It’s closer to where I am now, and it kept biasing the other book. I was trying to keep the 1995 novel in the style/mindset of the 20 year old me, but my current problems began leaking into the 1995 story-line. It got ugly.
Personal issues are like bowel-movements, there’s only one thing that you can do once they start to come out – sit down and get it all out.

The 2005 writings are sporadic shotgun narratives with no unifying narrative structure, but excessive overlapping themes. They were mostly written in the middle of the night when I ran to the computer when I was too wound-up to get to sleep. They tend to surprise me when I read them later. They’re not nice, but they always hit the raw-nerve of truth.
I feel petty when I’m reading them later. I’ve got a great job that’s very fulfilling, and a nice house in a good neighborhood. I’ve got more material shit than I can handle: stacks of books – unread, and piles of DVDs – unwatched.
I’m one lucky son of a bitch, so why am I up at 3 in the fucking morning on a work-night drinking Bookers neat, smoking like Auschwitz, and banging away at the fucking keyboard like it punched my Mom?
Well, my personal life is a huge smoking train-wreck. Hell, whose isn’t? At least I don’t have a wife or (God-forbid) kids to keep me tethered to this shit.

Well then, what the fuck is wrong?

I don’t know; it’s as simple as that. I know that I’m not happy, but I have no idea what I want to do past next week. I feel trapped. I see my life playing out before me like a bad made-for-TV movie, and there’s little that I can do to advance the hackneyed plot.
I want to put everything that I own into storage and run – far. But where?

I think it’s just this age, and all the existential bullshit that comes with it. It’s time that I’m supposed to make the ‘serious’ decisions about the rest of my life, and I couldn’t be any more unsure (Craig touched on this topic briefly, but I’m not gonna drag him into this shit-storm). The question is: What’s worse; dying alone, or being miserable everyday up to that death?

Sometimes I just want to take the easy way out… and find religion.

Wow, that should just about do it. I think that I’ve alienated just about everyone that will read this. Another job well done.

For anyone who's left; here's a treat for putting up with all of my bitching.

It's about time for a new feature up here. Since the kids love the guns so much, I figured that I'd do a series of profiles on the guns that I own. I call it "Gun Nut", as is obvious by the snazzy graphic at the top- left.

I figured that a good place to start in this series would be with a gun that a) has a definite mystique, b) has a place in history, c) looks real cool, and d) can blow the ever-loving fuck outta just about anything. I'm talking of course about the Автомат Калашникова 1947, better known as the:

AK-47

Click on the link above (to Wikipedia), and you'll get way more information than you've ever wanted about the AK-47 and its history.

The AK has always been popular with the "Death to America" crowd, but we're not going to hold that against it. This is possibly the greatest 'all-around' gun ever manufactured; the AK-47 is brilliant in its simplicity, yet cheap, and ridiculously durable. Anyone can learn to operate an AK in just a few minutes, and do simple repairs/modifications within a couple of hours.

Its simplicity, cost, capacity, and ballistic damage make it very attractive to 3rd world insurgents and other assorted ne'er-do-wells. Therefore, the AK-47 has a very bad reputation - much deserved. This gun has decimated societies and leveled governments. God, do I love it.

Ammunition for the Kalashnikova is dirt-cheap, and I prefer to buy it in bulk (for about a nickel per round). Standard clip capacity ranges from 10 rounds to 100 rounds (50 round clip shown above). When shooting, I prefer the stock 20 round clip - it's more than enough and doesn't get in the way.

My biggest problem with the AK is that if you keep popping off rounds (75+), this gun gets HOT. I burned my hand on the wood grips after a particularly hi-cap shooting session.

Its range goes to shit after 250 meters, but that's not what the AK was designed for. This gun was made for close-quarters combat, and for that it is perfect. I actually prefer the AK to my M4 (which cost four times as much) for rapid medium-range target shooting.

The Kalashnikova's 7.62 × 39 mm round is one of the deadliest in the world (hollow-point exit-wounds the size of basketballs), so it makes the perfect C.H.U.D. gun for any household. Everyone wants their family to be safe from the C.H.U.D.s, don't they?

When you're out carrying your AK-47 - you're going to be noticed, so style is very important in a shooting outfit. Whenever I go out shooting my AK, I usually wear this outfit:

You want to try to blend in with the locals. I've found that a decorative head-scarf is cooling, yet adds a "kicky" touch to the ensemble.

Okay, I've gotta run. The DHS is here to take me off to Gitmo for posting the preceding photo... Yeah, camp!

Until next time, keep your eye on the target and your finger on the trigger.

Happy Birthday Gundy!

If you see him, be sure to buy him loads 'o' hooch this evening. If you must get him a more 'traditional' gift, I have an idea of what he wants.

Since I'm 750 miles to the East today (and the USPS gets crabby whenever I try to mail tequilla-slammers), THIS will have to do.
Uff Da!

Did You Know That "Gullible" Isn't In the Psychologists' Desk Reference?

This one comes straight out of the "barking idiot" file; I present this gem from the LA Times:
---
UCI Psychiatrist Bilked by Nigerian E-Mails, Suit Says
Dr. Louis A. Gottschalk lost perhaps $3 million over 10 years in the scam, his son alleges in court documents.
By William Lobdell, Times Staff WriterMarch 2, 2006

A renowned psychiatrist from UC Irvine was duped into squandering at least $1.3 million of his family's fortune on a Nigeria Internet scam, according to a lawsuit recently filed by his son. The son, also an Orange County doctor, said his father — Dr. Louis A. Gottschalk — gave as much as $3 million over a 10-year period in response to an Internet plea that promised the doctor a generous cut of a huge sum of cash trapped in African bank accounts in exchange for money advances...
---
Just imagine how much money he would have lost if he'd gotten an actual letter.

Vince Young is a mongoloid.
If any of you sorta follow the NFL, you already know what I'm talking about, but for the sake of everyone else, here's the deal: Young (the leading NFL draft prospect) scored a 6 (out of 50) on the Wonderlic Personnel Test (WPT) during the NFL Scouting Combine this last weekend.

A breakdown of the scoring for the WPT looks like this:
50 = highest possible score, superior intelligence
21 = average intelligence
14 = equivalent to unskilled worker
Below 14 = Faulknerian man-child

Since this score, Young's draft prospects have been dropping quicker than Bode's sponsorships.

WPT Sample Questions:

A) When rope is selling at $.10 a foot, how many feet can you buy for sixty cents?

B) Assume the first 2 statements are true. Is the final one:
1 - true,
2 - false,
3 - not certain?
The boy plays baseball.
All baseball players wear hats.
The boy wears a hat.

C) Paper sells for 21 cents per pad. What will 4 pads cost?

D) How many of the five pairs of items listed below are exact duplicates?
Nieman, K.M. - Neiman, K.M.
Thomas, G.K. - Thomas, C.K.
Hoff, J.P. - Hoff, J.P.
Pino, L.R. - Pina, L.R.
Warner, T.S. - Wanner, T.S.

E) RESENT RESERVE — Do these words
1 - have similar meanings
2 - have contradictory meanings
3 - mean neither the same nor opposite?

For more Questions Check out the ESPN Quiz.

These questions aren't hard. Any Junior High School student should be able to ace this thing. I've seen a bunch of excerpts from the test, and even the "hard" questions I saw could be solved without reaching for the "scratch paper". To reiterate: MOST OF THE WPT QUESTIONS CAN BE SOLVED QUICKLY IN YOUR HEAD - This isn't the fucking MENSA membership quiz here, folks.
Not only should Young be disallowed from playing in the NFL, but he should be sterilized for the benefit of humanity. Furthermore, the University of Texas should have to answer some serious fucking questions. The first being: How did this (technically) illiterate dipshit make it through your "fine" university? Christ, the dean should have his balls tared and feathered lone-star-style for this shit. And, who's bright idea was it to try and educate Texans anyway? You'd have better luck teaching Chaucer to inbred goats.

Fuck.

Thank You, Thank You, Thank You

Via Boing Boing:

Shock Absorber, a UK line of sports-bras, has a Flash-based boobies-physics simulator -NOT SUITABLE FOR WORK-. Plug in a cup-size and a level of activity, and it produces a 3D animation of breasts of that size bouncing free, bouncing in a regular bra, and hardly moving at all in one of their sports-bras. Extra geeky bonus points for including a 3D wireframe view, so you can see the pure physics of the jiggle.

It's like a lava lamp, but with boobies! God, do I love the inter-web.