Category: Headlines and Ads

This is just so my grandmother doesn’t have to see the word “fuck” as soon as she opens my journal page. Wait! Fuck!

So I opened Facebook and saw this much of an ad on my screen:

Jennifer Aniston's face, over the text 'Help Save Her Life.'

And I was like, “What, does she need emergency reverse liposuction? I mean, obviously she DOES, but is that going to save her–oh.” Because by this point I had copied the image out and could see the first frame of the animated gif, to which it apparently never resets:

Little bald Madelyn is fighting CANCER.  ASS.

Hi! St. Jude? Call me. We need to talk about this concept called “above the fold.”

Seen on a banner ad:

Bachelor’s in


Master’s in


Well hell, man, why bother with a Bachelor’s?

Charity ad seen on the back of a bus:

Donate Your Car To Us
& End Homelessness

“The Hausenbildenmächina works at last, Greta! It could be change the future of the world! But the reaction only occurs at exactly 88 miles per hour.” Hans shakes his head in despair. “I can’t go that fast! Not even on my European racing-style bicycle!”

“Ach, Hans!” Greta takes his hands in her own. Her eyes are full and bright. “I always believed in you, always knew–if only we had some way to obtain one car! Any car! But our German-or-possibly-Austrian credit doesn’t carry over to these United States.”

“Greta,” says Hans, face suddenly alight, “I may just have a plan!”

So I lied. I still don’t trust that my funny-filter is better than yours, but I do think it’s better than Dog Bites Dog’s funny-filter (if not, alas, its funny-generator). It also occurred to me that a DBD weblog has a function other than filtering: I think it’s a good thing to archive and save the best bits for future humans, who won’t understand their context, because the links have rotted. But still.

Relatedly, like most postadolescent males, I have harbored in my gut the desire to start a satirical news publication. Since by far the best part of any such rag is the headlines, though, that’s all I ever bothered to produce. For the last few months, whenever I’ve felt particularly savage about something in popular culture, I’d come up with a headline and archive it. That wasn’t often enough to be a viable source of content on its own. Combined with somebody else’s generated headlines, though, it might be!

It is for these combined purposes that I’ve set up Dog Bites, a weblog in the vein of Spam As Folk Art. It should have new content every day or two, or more often if DBD is on a hot streak and I’m feeling hateful. I hope you like it! (And hey, my SAFA co-maintainers, let me know if you want in on some of this action.)

Apparently, to reach the law offices of Gary Shapero, you dial 777-7777.

777-7777. Who the hell did he have to blow at BellSouth to get that sweet piece of numerology?

“If you want to reach me, just press seven for a while. When I pick up, you will know that you have pressed seven enough.”