We know you love to color, and you know we love to make delightful drawings of ourselves in our ideal lives, living together, as a group of actual friends. In the same place. Ideally, that place is sometime in the 1920s but only for purely aesthetic reasons. According to illustrations of that era, everyone was abnormally thin and lithe. They didn’t walk, they slithered. And that’s how we are too, on some level.
Though it was forged in MSPaint by one man, the story of BOO! was a tale that has existed in the minds and the souls of people world-wide for generations. It rolled off the tongue of every schoolchild, it had its story told by graffiti in back alleys, and even the halls of rest-homes echoed the tale. Knowing the significance and history behind this story, I knew I had to do something. I knew that I had to bring this tale to life in a way never before seen. So I sat down and for many years I painstakingly transferred this legend into the form you see today. When BOO! was first introduced to the internet, it was during simpler times. It was during a time where morals were valued over gold, and children argued if they DID NOT have to wear their school uniform.
It was 2008.
Get to your nearest chair and proceed to sit so hard that you accordion your spine in on itself, because that’s what it’s probably gonna take to keep your pants from flying off after you learn that it’s fall festival season again! That’s right, it’s everyone’s favorite time to herd into the smallest towns imaginable by the thousands and then proceed to rip it to shreds like some sort of cursed locust-people. All while buying up every single shitty piece of local art they can find, along with shoving their faces full of food so unhealthy that it should qualify as body torture. Get hype, son!
Now you may be saying to yourself, “But Jeremy, you already wrote an extensive, boring article on fall festivals years ago! In fact, Amandoll just re-posted it a few days ago! It’s right here! Why even bring this up again? Who really gives a shit?” Well, I definitely can’t argue with that last point, but I can confirm that I did write that article well over two decades ago, back when it was all the rage with my family to drag us around the state and partake in whatever festival they could find each weekend during the fall season. And believe it or not, it was something I actually enjoyed. But over the years since then I really haven’t been to many at all, and since I now have way too much free time and literally no friends whatsoever, I figure it’s high time that I return to those cursed festivals to see what I’ve been missing, and also add a few things that I sort of glossed over in the first article. So please, dear reader, take a trip with me to Greenfield, Indiana, for their “Riley Days” festival. Let’s see together just how bored you truly have to be to do shit like this.
It is already well documented that I am pretty much a giant fucking loser. And because of this, I seem to enjoy doing things that make most people laugh at me. We’ve already covered this in previous articles about yard sales, and virtually everything else I’ve written on this site. So it’s of no surprise when I say that I happen to enjoy going to fall festivals. After all, fall is my favorite time of the year, and it seems to be the only time when I can go out of the house and not be hospitalized from extreme sun exposure, or be treated for frostbite.
Fall has very mild weather that is perfect for the pasty nerd who is afraid to step outside in the heat for more than two minutes, in fear that they would instantly be blinded by natural sunlight and have their skin catch fire. But once we get outside, we usually find that there is little that we know how to do without a computer mouse in our hands. And even if we bring the computer mouse with us, it just doesn’t seem to have the same effect by clicking on things in the real world as it does on our computer. So to combat this strange new world of revulsion, we must find something else to do. Not only do we need to find somewhere that is generally low key and devoid of excitement that might lead to bodily harm, but also somewhere where we can buy incredibly useless crap for large sums of money. The only real answer that meets these criteria, is of course one of the millions of festivals that are being held during the fall. That’s right. Today we’re going to show you just how to navigate your way through a fall festival.
I’m gonna be right up front about this:
I can’t dance.
There is no certain reason for this I suppose, maybe it’s because my body has about as much rhythm as a sun dried catfish, or maybe it’s the fact that the last time I even attempted to dance I was nearly dragged from the dance floor by my nostrils. But I’m going to guess the number one reason is that I am a 38 year old white guy who spends the majority of his time as far away from the club and dance scene as possible. It all comes down to wanting to fit in and feel comfortable where ever you go, and when I’m in a club with a bunch of sweating “young people” gyrating to enough bass to level a small third-world country, I do not fit in.
Hello, I’m Amandoll and today we’re here to honor the world’s favorite miscellaneous underappreciated humor site on the internet, the one you are on right now: the Sneer Campaign. Maybe you’ll see long lost footage, never before seen material unless you follow us on Facebook, and references to your favorite articles. I really don’t know how this is going to turn out because who plans what they’re going to say? Apparently not me! So strap on your safety belts, readers, so that your pants don’t fly off with all of the excitement!
Sneer Campaign began as a brainchild of Dollissa and me, with reluctant support from cchris. We have told this story before, and probably a lot of what I’m about to say in the rest of this article, but sadly I don’t have all 499 other articles posted at this time memorized. This is a clip show anyway, so you didn’t come here expecting all fresh material. BUT how did three people from different parts of the world meet in the first place, you ask? Why, through the magic of Fate and the Internet, of course!
Jesus fuck it’s summer already. Well it feels like it has been summer since March, and I’m not entirely sure that there should be a single date declaring that it is indeed Summer. I simply go by the tried and true method of knowing when it gets too hot to function normally, then it’s summer. I don’t care if it’s the middle of December, if the temperature gets high enough to make me lie on the ground and give up on life, then it’s fucking summer. This is where we’re at now, and I damn well barely made it from my car to my front door yesterday before I accepted my fate and just let the sun finish destroying my will to live, which basically means it’s time to never go outside again until Winter blows in around next February.
As you can tell, I’m not a big fan of summer, though I must admit that I do despise winter a tad bit more, just for the fact that I can walk around outside in my boxers in summertime without a hint of officers threatening to take me down. I suppose that works both ways though, as the rest of the city has no problem doing so as well, along with the random assault of naked babies in grocery stores. It’s just not very appetizing to be getting my three month supply of Ramen noodles, only to see naked baby wang come flying around the corner. You also have the thousands of people who have no air conditioning, thus spending every waking moment of the Summer sitting outside, listening to country music, and hollering.
Before actually working at a party supply store, I was unaware that there are party supplies for EVERYTHING. I had previously been under the notion that people weren’t so stupid that they would need to run out and buy a giant bull skull to complete the look of their “Tex-Mex party,” which would just end up looking like a regular party except with a giant shitty foam bull skull hanging on the wall.
While perusing the mind-numbing amount of overpriced shit for parties, I wandered upon a section, nay, an entire AISLE, just for celebrating old people’s birthdays and such. Well, let me rephrase that since it’s not entirely the truth: An entire aisle just for mocking old people’s further decline into a miserable old age and eventually to a depressing death that will most likely be filled with memories of the time their children bought them a fake jar of Viagra for their 60th birthday.
Some would call them “gag” gifts, and I suppose they are. Only I have never seen so many, and some so completely brutal, in one area before — all for simply being old. It’s as if to say “Congratulations on living for 3/4 of a century and accomplishing more than most of us ever will, now put this chicken suit on and DANCE YOU OLD SHIT.”
Brutal fact of life: Gaming will never, ever be as cool as it was in the late 80s/early 90s. Why? Several factors contribute to it: 80s/90s hairstyles, general inability to see how much we would laugh at ourselves in the future, etc. But the biggest thing that made the time so awesome was that it was all so new. Sure, games had been around for over a decade at that point. But after the video game crash in ’84, the future of gaming was mostly relegated to being bulletpoint features on shitty home computers from Radioshack. Then came the NES, and everything exploded. Gaming, as it turned out, was the real deal. And it wasn’t going anywhere. Suddenly the entire subculture of video games went mainstream, and few people were ready for it — especially the people that quickly saw they could make a boatload of money from them.
Magazines based solely on games literally sprung up over night. The two most prominent being Electronic Gaming Monthly, and Gamepro. Immediately out of the gate, Gamepro seemed to be the far more “color by the numbers” magazine created by people who had no clue what to do with a game magazine, and were just throwing stuff together in a way they thought would look cool to kids. Featuring blindingly bright layouts (I still can only see in shades of neon pink thanks to Gamepro), giant cartoony art, and a general mishmash of coverage more suited for an ADHD-addled chimp.
Gamepro quickly garnered a reputation as being that one kid who would always scream for attention on the playground, but no one would ever come close to him for fear that he would never leave you alone again. That didn’t stop Gamepro from making money though, since this was a time when you could put out anything game-related and kids would choke it down as fast as possible. Gamepro quickly saw that their aberration of a magazine was making gobs of money, so decided to take the next logical step and made a TV show.
Halloween is a time for scares, intrigues, mysteries, and unearthing ancient horrors. We have done all of these things with the post we bring you today. Once upon a time, when the earth was young, there was an infernal website called omgjeremy dot com, founded by Lucifer himself, probably. During those times, a writer named Billy Holiday turned his talents to art, and decided to give Amandoll a run for her money in the comics department. What you see here today is three YEARS worth of effort, incomplete because one installment was lost to time, just as we all fear about ourselves the most, deep inside.
Proceed with Caution! You have been warned!