Ceci n'est pas un compliment

Feeling a little down? Unappreciated? Below the fold is a link to the Norwegian compliment generator, along with a few of the Norwegian compliments that I received today.

Behold, The Surrealist Norwegian Compliment generator and a sampling of the compliments I received today;

    You have the patience of a trilobite.

    Cretins and vermin cannot compare with the depths of your cousins.

    Your raw sensuality flusters me as the dog sneezes into the ventilation fan.

    Your face is like an imperfectly shaven tennis ball.

    The expanse of your intelligence is a void no universe could ever fill.

    You have no socially redeeming value. [Hey! How did my parents get involved with this project?]

    You move with the eloquence of disintegrating fuselage.

    Dustmites the world over love you for your feet.

More like this

Part four of four in a series about Greenpeace recent manned submersible expedition to two of the largest submarine canyons in the world, the Pribilof and Zhemchug Canyons in the Bering Sea off the west coast of Alaska. The following exclusive interview was conducted by Deep Sea news over email…
Dang. Tagged. Can't you people leave me alone? All right, here are the rules. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.…
The Lay of the Trilobite May Kendall (1861 - 1943) A mountain's giddy height I sought, Because I could not find Sufficient vague and mighty thought To fill my mighty mind; And as I wandered ill at ease, There chanced upon my sight A native of Silurian seas, An ancient Trilobite. So calm, so…
Greg Abell wrote to me, requesting answers to his questions, which he doesn't ask, and since he caught me in a cranky moment, I felt like answering. Hello, I wanted to ask a professional scientist how something can come from nothing? No, you didn't. You wrote as an excuse to preach at me, and are…

Ahh, Grrl. Your eyes flash upon my cathode ray flesh in a manner that propels my viscera into an eternal state of turgid flux. Soft sausages would gladly procreate in the bathwater of your verisimilitude.

My eyelids belch with effluvial afterthoughts when you tease me with gelatin and congealed chicken rinds.

Your eyes are much like milky pools of pantyhose

By mackerel salad boy (not verified) on 19 Dec 2008 #permalink