Happy International Pooper-Scooper Week from Your Friends at the Proctology Clinic

I’ve snickered my way past the billboards on the Belt Parkway for years. I mean, is there really an epidemic of man boobs and hemorrhoids among Brooklyn men?

Before this weekend though, I didn’t realize the full scale of the advertising blitz by our borough’s finest ass repair establishment (or that they even really existed) until I happened upon my husband bent over, laughing his ass off at their new commercial (it's so new I haven't been able to find it online yet--sorry! But you can find it on NY1 morning news breaks).

Let it be said that my husband may be the only person left in the world who actually watches commercials or, for that matter, live television, but I really think he may be on to something. I would argue that local tv advertising (okay, this isn't ours but it is hilarious) provides some of the best entertainment this city has to offer. 

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BREEDERS, HIDE YOUR CHILDREN...BJU HAS LANDED

I'm not so sure if Jesus has come back or whatever was supposed to have happened on Easter, but I am sure of one thing: his fundamentalist army has landed on Eighth Avenue (in a very glamorous vehicle parked outside of the Memorial Baptist Church at that).

As a rule, there's not much I find funny because I'm sort of a shitty snob with a poor sense of humor, but one of my top five, never-fail sources of LOLZ is Bob Jones University: the idea of it, the people who attend it, its history with accreditation, and basically every word on its Christlike (yep, this is a word) website.  So, please imagine the look on my face when I came across this walking to dinner.  BJU HAS COME.  AND THEY'RE GONNA EITHER MAKE YOU BELIEVE IN CHRIST OR CALL YOU A LIBERAL AND EAT YOUR BRAINS.

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Associated Supermarket on 5th Ave Needs a Lesson in "Kosher for Passover"

(via Rob Blatt)

Yo, Prospect Park: Stephen King Is Calling, and He Wants His Creepy, Mysterious Animal Butchery Storyline Back

photo: Brooklyn PaperChicken heads, necks, and bloody piles of entrails....its just another beautiful day at Prospect Park.

Some freaky deaky shit is apparently going down in our lovely park, and no one knows who (or what) is responsible. But lately its been looking a hell of a lot like a Pet Cemetary...or a ritualistic crime scene.

And someone(thing) keeps piling all the guts and gore up in pretty much the exact same spot in the SW corner of the park near the lakebed:

“Everybody wants to feed the ducks, and there are chicken heads floating around. They need to come and rake this stuff out.” “Maybe [the intestines] could be left over from a voodoo or Santeria ritual?” said another park goer.

AYFKMWTS?

Dub tee eff, people?

(via Brooklyn Paper and Gothamist)

Sign of Spring Fever [Or Bed Bugs?]

Whose mattress is this?? I KNOW this doesn't belong to the broad standing next to it.

Come on, fess up. Or was this a late entrant into the best sex spot to get it on in Park Slope contest?