User:Kip the Dip

Kip will be judging your every action.
President Barack Obama appointed me as one of the judges in the Poo Lit Surprise contest. I'm judge #1 in the Best Illustrated Article category. As always, I took points off for pixilated pieces-of-shit jpeg images.

Entries

User:PuppyOnTheRadio/UnBooks:Where do babies come from?

Read it. It's self-explanitory.

User:NonchalantCaterpillar/Soviet Space Program

Space: The Final Frontier. Holy crap, these are great images. All jpeg, but they're mostly photographs, so I'll give it a pass. An interesting subject and an overall entertaining article. Oh yeah, and SPACE!!

User:DrStrange/Take Your Son To Work Day

I lol'd hard. Very funny Chick tract parody. All png and not a single jpeg, but most of them look suspiciously jpeg. I assume that's due to being directly from the website. Fucking Jack Chick.

User:Zheliel/Vote For The Worst

At first I was like "WTF?", but then I got the joke and lol'd. Clever.

User:Mrthejazz/I am better than fish

Eh, this kind of silly concept article seems to have been done before and done to death, so I didn't really laugh. However, others might find it funnier than I did. The images compliment it well.

User:Monika/Diamonds and Rust

I'm not a big heavy metal fan, yet the article was pretty funny. The captions had more laughs that the images themselves, so I wasn't sure how to judge it. I eventually decided to give the article an average score.

Now it pains me to put a Rock music article next to the following, but...

User:Hyperbole/Suddenly, Raccoons

More amusing meme than Poo Lit Surprise material. The images are all poorly done jpegs. GRRR. I think this was originaly only a response to Mrthejazz's article that just had Michael Jordan on it. Regardless, it's crap. You can do better Hype.

Some Poolitry to Lighten the Mood

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

"Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door -

Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -

This it is, and nothing more,"

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you" - here I opened wide the door; -

Could it be my lost Lenore?

Suddenly I ceased my yearning, for before me was a burning

Paper bag which some foul demon placed upon the wooden floor.

On the porch I stood proclaiming: "Demons who have have left this flaming

Package which illuminates the night upon my chamber door;

Who are you that placed this flaming bag upon my chamber door?!

Show yourselves, forevermore!"

How distinctly I remember stomping out the flaming ember

On that dark night in December, stomping at the wooden floor.

For within the flaming parcel was a putrid, stinking morsel

Of some demon's excrements now flaming at my chamber door.

Smearing on my feet and on the ground beneath my chamber door.

This I saw, and nothing more.

"Be that flame our sign of parting, flaming bag!" I shrieked upstarting -

"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Leave no brown smear as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit my porch forevermore!

Take thy flame from out my heart, and take thy stench from off my floor!

Though shalt leave forevermore!"

But the package, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the charcoaled floorboards of the porch, before my chamber door;

And the stench is left unbroken, speaks words which are best not spoken

Leaves behind a vicious token, smeared across the blackened floor.

And my soul from out that stain that lies upon the charcoal floor

Shall be lifted - nevermore!