Author Archives: Soapbox Preacher

To Be Fair

I don’t think even the smartest man on the planet could fix Twitter. Which is probably why he sold it to the dumbest man on the planet for $44 billion

The Perfect Gift

When buying a present for your loved one, why not give the gift of ClearKase, the only clear case for your iPhone that WON’T turn yellow and reek of piss after a day. Hi, I’m Casey Kleercays, CEO of RealKase International.

My team and I have spent the last few months scouring the globe for manufacturing partners who’ve perfected lightweight, translucent cases that don’t carry with them the dread stench of human urine.

After a full day in your pocket, most clear phone cases will have soaked your pockets with the foul reek of an open sewer, causing pedestrians to exaggeratedly pinch their nose and fan the air as you pass in the street.

Owners of other clear cases are no doubt familiar with babies bursting into tears as they approach, or dogs frantically scratching the ground – base animal instinct overcoming thousands of years of domestication, reacting to what their primitive brains assume can only be a giant pit of human excreta, but which is in fact just the subpar translucent case rotting slowly in your pockets

Our competitors might be content to saddle you with a wretched boondoggle, a filthy technological albatross that shames you and your family, but let me be crystal clear (like our cases!) – our products will never cause the spirits your ancestors to shudder and moan with despair when you snap them on. Order now for delivery by December 24th!

ClearKases are not available in stores. Do not attempt to wash a ClearKase.

Sorry for the lack of posts

Sorry about the recent delays between posts. I’ve just been feeling kind of down lately, so not up to writing much.

It just feels like I’m never going to meet that special someone who works at an experimental physics laboratory and when I go to visit them i get bitten by a radioactive spider and get superpowers.

Investment Opportunity

Hey, just thought I’d make a quick post to see if anybody is interested in investing in my latest business venture: baby carriages.
But these aren’t your regular old baby carriages, no sir. First off, the seat is the size of a park bench. The entire thing is made up of over 20 feet of aircraft grade, mandrel-bent, powder-blasted aluminum. The upholstery is by Coach, and comes with a matching handbag. The handlebars are wrapped in the finest lamb’s leather. The tires are the same rubber that NASA uses on the cars that the Mars Rover engineers drive, and the entire thing costs over thirteen thousand dollars. I already have orders for over 370 of them, so I’m just looking for the start-up capital to print out the brochures and to hire salespeople to guide customers through the personalization options.

Here’s what people are already saying about it:

“When I heard Soapbox Preacher was making baby carriages, I nearly shit my pants. The specs for this thing are out of this goddamn world! I mean, the main seat is like fucking two metres long. I can fit all three of my kids on that motherfucker. I could probably fit six of their friends too!”

“Current premium baby carriages only take up the space of two, maybe three people when I’m pushing it around the mall. If I’m perusing Sephora, I can’t have people going around me and getting the last Yves St. Laurent mascara before me, darling.”

“After talking to Soapbox Preacher, I began to worry that my current stroller couldn’t withstand a direct rocket strike. While he admitted that his own line of strollers would also be immediately incinerated in the same situation, I appreciated his honesty. Also, the fact that dirty poors will be unable to afford this, and I will therefore never be seen pushing the same stroller as one of them is just icing on the cake!”

“Look, it’s clear that you’re just making fun of us new parents, and it’s not cool, okay? I mean, I get it. Some of these things are enormous. I’m just too tired to argue with you about whether they’re necessary or not. Oh Christ, my baby vomited again. I have to go!”

A somewhat late, Halloween-inspired Story

Announcer: Hello, and welcome to America’s faaaaavorite gameshow – HOW! MUCH! MONEY! Ladies and gentleman, here’s your host Briiiiick Rockford!

<The studio erupts in applause. Brick comes bounding out, dressed in a creamsicle-orange tuxedo and carrying an old-timey stalk microphone>

Brick: Thank you! Thank you! Folks, we’ve got a fantastic set of contestants for you tonight…

<The applause surges and Brick pivots to wave to the entire audience>

Brick: Yes! Okay, thank you, thank you so much!

<applause continues unabated, Brick takes an overly formal bow like a robot>

Brick: Ladies and gentleman, please! That’s too much, you’re too kind

<he mimes shooting the crowd with a machine gun, chuckles, then throws away the imaginary gun with an “oh you” gesture, causing the audience to go even wilder>

Brick: Please….. Okay, wow
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Poems Inspired by Moving to Downtown Toronto (#2)

An angry young man yells
At a silver car, belching skidmarks

Later on the stoop outside work he will talk up the cute girl
who smokes outside, observing.
“Next time, I’ll pull a motherfucker out the car and beat his ass”

Next time, a Korean car named after a city in Arizona will squish his stupid little hat

Poems Inspired by Moving to Downtown Toronto

Little old lady on the sidewalk
when you are gone
who will rinse pollen off our sidewalks?

Really, Justin Timberlake?

Thomas: “Good evening Master Timberlake. How was your afternoon?”

Justin: “Exciting! I took a spin down to that luxury car dealer on La Jolla Boulevard, and ran into that punk Justin Bieber and things got a little crazy. You know how it is!”

Thomas: “Excellent, sir. I have unfortunate news though – Your manager Lynn Harless called to say the online gossip sites are… ahem… ‘blowing up’ with rumours that you cheated on Jessica Biel with Daily Show Correspondent Olivia Munn.”

Justin: “Shit! Who snitched? You know what, never mind. Yeah I did it, but suckas gotta prooove it! Ha haaa!”

Thomas: “Shall I prepare a late dinner while you converse with Ms. Harless?”

Justin: “That’d be great. Oh, you know what? I don’t even know why I did this, but I bought two identical Lamborghini Gallardo’s this afternoon. I think it’s because I saw Bieber looking at one, and I didn’t want him to have it. Can you have the groundskeeper set one on fire, and drop it in the bottom of a quarry?”

Thomas: “I’ll order an immediate Charlie Sheen Special, sir.”

Justin: “You’re the best, Thomas.”
A Charlie Sheen Special

Terrible Taste in DVDs – Wildthings Edition

So, I’m on a bit of a tidy, organize, reduce kick at the moment. As such, I’m making an attempt to cut down on the number of DVDs I’ve got sitting around. This is no mean task – I have over the years accumulated a massive collection of DVDs, several of which are extraordinarily terrible. I blame this entirely on poor impulse control and an overly generous tendency to cut filmmakers slack. Slack which they do not deserve!

I thought it might be entertaining to go explain why I’m getting rid of some of these pieces of shit, and see exactly how much I can remember about them without watching anything or looking anything up. I am seriously not wasting any more of my life watching these movies.

Anyway, today I’m getting rid of Wildthings, which is this movie right here:Wildthings DVD
It was released in the late nineties, and stars Matt Dillon, Neve Campbell, Denise Richards and Kevin Bacon. I actually totally forgot about Kevin Bacon in this movie until I looked at the cover art, which is not surprising since you full-on see his entire junk as he gets out of the shower. That’s the kind of thing you tend to want to forget, despite Mr. Bacon’s best efforts to show you Mini-Bacon in several of his movies (Hollowman, I’m looking at you).
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I’m concerned the cartoon bears aren’t using slang correctly

There’s a series of commercials for Charmin toilet paper on tv here in Canada, featuring a family of cartoon bears who teach us about the perils of dingleberries and sopping up the results of a heavy night of binge honey consumption using super-absorbent toilet paper. (I’m not sure what that would be like, incidentally. Extra sticky?)

The most recent one has momma and papa bear sitting around a tree stump having a morning coffee. Papa asks momma bear if her little cup of espresso is really enough. When she offers him a sip, he exclaims “now that’s what I’m talking about!” What is what he’s been talking about? This bear is clearly trying to appear cooler than he is, by repeating words he’s overheard his teenage son use.

I’m also concerned about bears drinking coffee. Aren’t we better served by having sleepy bears?