Francis Martin Patrick “Frankie” Boyle is a Scottish comedian and former newspaper columnist. Frankie Boyle is well known for his pessimistic. Boyle was born in Glasgow and went to Saint Convals Primary School in Pollokshaws. Boyle currently lives in Glasgow with his partner, Shereen Taylor, and has two children: a daughter and a son. He is a recovering alcoholic, having started drinking at the age of 15 and stopping at 26, and former drug user, who is now teetotal. He got his big break after performing at the Stand Comedy Club in Edinburgh, a venue that has also helped launch the careers of Stewart Lee, Johnny Vegas, Dara Ó Briain and Michael McIntyre.

In October 2007 Boyle embarked on a long stand-up tour of the UK, playing over 100 dates and enjoying a sold-out run that was extended through until December 2008. It was reported on 24 October 2008 that Boyle was to begin a weekly column in the Daily Record. On 26 June 2009, he reported via his MySpace profile that he had quit his newspaper column as “they refused to print any Michael Jackson jokes”. On 10 November 2008 Boyle’s first DVD was released, featuring a sell-out stand-up performance given at London’s Hackney Empire and some additional material like sketches from the BBC3 comedy Rush Hour. In 16 July 2009 Boyle’s first podcast was released, Entitled Mock the Week Musings. The podcast is a recording of Boyle testing the material he has written for Mock the Week to a London audience.Boyle can be found performing parts of his recent tour in the comedy club in Grand Theft Auto IV: The Lost and Damned.

Frankie Boyle is going to perform in UK this year. Frankie Boyle Tour tickets are on sale now. Frankie Boyle will kick off the tour in Edinburg Theater on Sep 30, 2010 (Thursday).

Sold Out Ticket Market is ideal for Frankie Boyle Tickets for UK tour 2010 at nominal rates. Sold Out Ticket Market provides its customers with Frankie Boyle Tickets for UK tour 2010 for all dates and venues in which he is going to perform. Get your Frankie Boyle Tickets from our safe and secure system and watch him Live in UK.

Frankie Boyle Tickets are avaliable for Frankie Boyle UK tour 2010 – from £75.00

Starting Date: Sep 30, 2010 (Thursday)
Starting Time: 19:30

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Buy and Sell Frankie Boyle Tickets for Frankie Boyle UK Tour 2010 from Sold Out Ticket Market on nominal rates.
For more information and booking contact us on: Call: 0044 (0) 207 1933 837 or 0044 (0) 207 1931 315 Email: sales@soldoutticketmarket.com Fax: +44 (0) 207 6925 527 Sold Out Ticket Market – http://www.soldoutticketmarket.com
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Funny pacifiers can bring a lot of laughter to family, friends and even total strangers. And when babies are tired and cranky, parents will love them too. For instance, when you have those stressful days and your baby is very fussy, once you look down at him/her and see a silly pacifier in its mouth, you can’t help but grin. And at that moment, your stress just melts away.

Prank pacifiers are different and unusual. Imagine yourself taking your child out for a stroll while he or she sucks on a novelty pacifier. Everyone that passes by will want to stop and take a closer look at your beautiful baby. Your baby will be the talk of the town.  All proud parents want to show off their baby. Well this would definitely get everyone’s attention.

Novelty pacifiers can make great gifts for new parents. There are so many fun pacifiers out on the market today that you can find the perfect one to suit anyone’s sense of humor. For example, have you seen the pig pacifier? This is a new pacifier that resembles a pig nose and while your baby sucks on this prank pacifier, his or her nose will wiggle like a pig. This will make anyone laugh.

When you do choose a pacifier, whether its the usual standard pacifier or a novelty pacifier, it is important that you buy a quality pacifier that’s safe. You may have heard of Billy Bob Teeth. But did you know that they carry a full line of these novelty pacifiers. Billy Bob Pacifiers are completely safe for babies to use. These funny pacifiers are approved by dentists and they have a silicone orthodontic nipple.

Well in short, all babies need a pacifier so which ever novelty pacifier you choose, have fun with it!!!

 

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About the Author:
To find out more about novelty pacifiers visit http://www.noveltygiftsandpranks.com
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What are they?

These little slingshot toys fly up to 50 feet in the air and scream like the real thing. They come in several styles including monkeys, pigs, ducks, frogs, cats, dogs, cows, chicken, aliens, astronauts, and many more. Both kids and adults will love them. These are one of the hottest toys in the USA.

How do they work?

Super Fly Toys are simple and easy to use. Here is an example on how the Super Fly Monkey works. Other Flying Toys work in a similar manner.

First you want to remove the “Pull Tab” from the back of the Monkey. This will allow your Monkey to scream as it flies through the air. When you do pull the tab, the Super Fly Monkey will let you know he is ready for launch by its initial scream.

Next, put your fingers into the pouches on the flying Monkey’s hands then extend your arm while holding the Monkey’s body with your free hand.

Finally pull the body of your Flying Monkey back as far as you like and release.

Watch your Flying Monkey Toy fly through the air and listen to him scream. Its a blast!

How do I teach small children to use Slingshot Toys?

Some smaller children, may find that there fingers get tired in the “Sling Shot” position. It is very easy for an older child or adults to help. Here is how to give your child a little extra help:

Have your child turn his/her palm towards the sky.

Next, put your child’s fingers in the Super Fly Monkey’s hands.

Thirdly extend your child’s arms away from his/her body and have the child pull the body of the flying Monkey down and release when ready.

Finally watch the Flying Monkey fly through the air while screaming!

Are there any other things we should know about Super Fly Toys?

Super Fly Toys are for ages 5 and up. This toy will catch the attention of anyone, regardless of age.

Just remember safety first. Never aim any super fly toy at another person.

But whatever you do have fun!!

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About the Author:
To find more about super flying toys visit http://www.noveltygiftsandpranks.com
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We have two Poodle dogs and my boys just got two new puppies. The Poodles are inside dogs so it’s been my job to let them out of the house first thing in the morning for a while now. Not sure how I got the job. I didn’t apply for it, but somehow it’s mine. The two new dogs will be outside dogs but since they are puppies they are inside for the time being. This one morning, I stumble out of bed half asleep in my Tweety Bird Boxers and went to let the dogs out. I opened the door and they all ran out like a rocket.

It’s not even daylight yet and I haven’t turned on any lights. As I turn from the door and start back to bed for just a few more minutes of sleep before I wake completely up, I notice that one of the puppies didn’t go out. He’s just sitting there in the corner chillin’ out, which is very unusual for any dog at 5 a.m. I call him and he doesn’t move, just sits there looking at me. So I sleep walk over to the lazy dang thing with one eye open and the other half closed and pick him up to bring him outside.

I said “Hey little fella’, you‘ve put on a little weight.”

As I go outside and put him down on the ground my eyes begin to adjust but I must be dreaming. I rubbed my eyes and looked again but it’s still there. Finally I realize that I had just picked up a dang Opossum!!! What the heck? Then it hisses at me and out of reflex I jump landing in a fresh pile of doggie doo, barefooted. I’m yelling for my wife and everybody ends up standing at the door starring at me thinking I have lost my mind. I’m outside, in my drawers, hopping on my left foot, I got doggie doo on my right, a Opossum is trying to eat me and they want to know what’s wrong with me.

“What’s wrong with me? A Opossum is trying to eat me, that’s what wrong.”

Then I pointed to it and the stupid thing is playing dead. Dang it! Melissa is gonna get the straight jacket for sure.

Now, for you guys that just don’t get what I am saying, let me break it down for you. I picked up a Opossum! Petted it! Talked to it! Took it out to pee! Then it tries to eat me! Craaaaaaaaaap! This day just got off to a real good start! I’m just sayin’.

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About the Author:
Wayne “Dr. Philbilly” Carlan writes true funny stories based on life experiences with home spun humor.
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Everything ever written about dieting is complete and total bull—except for what’s in this book.

Every single diet guru, without so much as a single exception, is a lying bastard—except for me.

And the truth of the matter is that diets simply don’t work—except for the one I’m about to describe.

But before I do, let me throw some scientific nonsense your way.

Let me ask you something: Why are fat people fat?

Is it:

(a) they eat too much

(b) they don’t exercise enough

(c) they eat too many carbs

(d) they eat too much fat

(e) they have emotional problems

(f) they weigh too much

(g) they’re genetically programmed to be fat

or

(h) none of the above ?

If you answered a, b, c, or d, you’re nothing but a brainwashed sheep.

If you answered e, you’re worse than a brainwashed sheep.

If you answered f, I’d like to come down there and kick the living crap out of you.

And if you answered g or h, you’re still pretty much wrong.

Because the truth is that fat people are genetically programmed to eat a certain ratio of food components known as CQ-alphacarboprofilactiketozona-vinimals3.1, which in turn programs their bodies to be fat.

That’s all there is to it—and anyone who tells you otherwise if a freakin’ nutcase who should be taken out back and shot in the head.

The only way to go from fat to thin is by eating the correct ratio of CQ-alphacarboprofilactiketozonavinimals3.1.

But even if they try, fat people cannot maintain the proper balance for long.

And why?

I just told you!

Because they’re genetically programmed to eat the wrong ratio.

But believe it or not (and if you don’t believe it, you’re a freakin’ idiot), I—and only I (take that Dr. Atkins, Mr. Pritikin, and all you other deluded pieces of crap)—have found the solution of all solutions—a way to guarantee that you’ll be as slim as a grade three anorexic till the very day you die (—probably of malnutrition).

How did I find the solution?

Well, first of all—DON’T YOU EVER QUESTION ME AGAIN!!!

I know what I’m talking about!

I’m a medical doctor, for goodness sake!

Do you have a medical degree! Do you?!

No.

So just sit down, shut up, and listen to what I say.

OK.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way (and if you ever pull something like that again I’ll cut off your damn tongue), allow me to explain how I managed to make my revolutionary discovery. (And if you’re reading this Time Magazine, please use my right side for my Person of the Year cover photo.)

I started by studying the fat person’s body—not just by asking a few questions and playing with numbers—but by actually digging right into it, and getting all the way down to the subatomic level. I’m talking about cells, protons, neutrons, electrons, and things that would leave Albert Einstein scratching his head.

And after 6,792 days straight in the laboratory without taking so much as a second to blink, I actually managed to both find and decipher the fat code itself (—which wasn’t easy considering how it was written in blue backwards hieroglyphic Pig Latin against a blue background).

I then studied 432,678,326,326,358,456,457,361 different foods—this time at the sub-subatomic level—in order to determine which contain the components necessary to fill in the fat code’s gaps and convert it to a thin code.

Finally, I took my data, ran 485,968,325,324,999,966,364,654,142,325, 322, 122,233,623,447,456,456,877,124 computer simulations (all of which I quadruple checked by hand and quintuple checked by foot) in order to determine the exact amount and sequence of foods necessary to infiltrate and alter the fat code—and then I used the results to formulate a never-fail 4,325,684 step program to reprogram the program that programs your body to be fat.

I went through all of that just to help you fit into a pair of size four jeans—and all you’ve done for me is pay a measly $23.99 for my book, you cheap, selfish, ungrateful bastard! (And to make matters worse, only three and a half cents of that money actually ends up in my pocket. The rest goes to my publisher, my agent, Charles Barnes, G. Clifford Noble, a group of huge Greek women, the United States government, my four ex-wives, and the millions of other leeches who think it’s their-God given right to reach in with their greedy hands and take the money that’s rightfully mine. And if you happen to be reading this book without actually having bought it new, I should really come down there and take my three and a half cents directly out of your !@#!!!)

Anyways, here you go:

Preliminaries

Start by taking your height, converting it to inches, converting that number to kilometers, converting it back to inches, dividing it by the square root of your left wrist’s circumference (unless you’re an Ashkenazi Jew, in which case you should take the cube root of your right thigh), multiplying by the longest number of days you’ve ever gone without eating a square pie, and dividing everything by p2. (If you managed to do all of that, feel free to come over and do my taxes)

The number you’re left with is your Ideal Metabolic Carbohydrate Processing Target Limit Rate On Tuesdays Through Fridays In Months Beginning With An X Or Q, or IMCPTLROTTFIMBWAXOQ.

Write that number on a two dollar bill minted in Delaware and a hundred dollar bill dipped in mint ice cream, and then use the two bills to purchase four more copies of my book.

When you’re done with all of that, multiply your weight in pounds by 703, and divide the result by your height (in inches) squared.

The number that’s left over is your Body Mass Index, or BMI.

Now, no matter what that number is, you’re way too fat.

Phase 1

If you think Elvis is dead, eat two servings of goat cheese a day for seven days. If you think he’s alive, eat four servings of cow cheese every three days for seven weeks. If you’re not sure, don’t eat any cheese at all, unless your first name happens to be Elvis, in which case you should eat nothing but cheese for eight days straight, and then eat nothing but peas for the rest of your life (left-handed Ashkenazi Jews should add hot sauce to their peas).

Phase 2

If you’re still alive after Phase 2, eat coconuts for the next fourteen days while watching season two of Gilligan’s Island (Ashkenazi Jews with athlete’s foot should watch season three instead).

Phase 3

By now, you’re probably starting to get sick of coconuts and season two of Gilligan’s Island.

Well too bad!

No one said this was going to be easy.

Do you think Mrs. Five Foot Nine One Hundred and Thirteen Pounds of Skin and Bones with Three Pounds of Makeup on Her Face Supermodel wants to eat coconuts and watch Gilligan’s Island every day like some kind of psychotic underfed robot zombie?!

No!

But she does it anyways.

So stop being a baby, and rewatch season two of Gilligan’s Island while sitting on a hammock and drinking coconut juice.

Phase 4

Phases 4 through 4,325,684 can be found in my book Dr. John Doe’s Generic Revolutionary Diet Book 2: Milking It for All It’s Worth.

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About the Author:

http://www.rodneyohebsion.com

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Some of you aren’t going to believe this, but all living things on this planet—from human beings all the way to plants and even bacteria—are at least your one trillionth cousins.

That’s right.

The newspaper delivered to your home each day comes from a tree that’s your hundred millionth cousin. The grass you mowed last Sunday was made up of some of your five hundredth millionth cousins. The last person you had sex with is probably your thousandth cousin. (You sick %#@$!) And even that jerk who cut you off this morning is at least your ten thousandth cousin. (There has to be at least one jerk in every family.)

Because we all stem from the same family tree (except for Tom Cruise)—and over the years, we branched out into all of the species you see before you today, not to mention the God may or may not know how many outdated and extinct ones.

Some of you might say: “Mr. Darwin—you’re out of your freakin’ mind. Humans give birth to humans, dogs give birth to dogs, sheep give birth to sheep, bacteria split into bacteria, chickens lay chicken eggs, fish lay fish eggs, carrot seeds grow into carrots, and watermelon seeds grow into watermelons. I’ve never seen a carrot seed grow into a fish, a bacteria give birth to a dog, or a chicken lay a snake egg—and I damn sure well have never seen a watermelon seed grow into a human, or a sheep give birth to a human. So how exactly do certain species give rise to other species?”

My response is:

Species turn into other species very slowly, through gradual changes that add up over a ton of generations.

As huge chunks of time pass, little changes add up.

It’s kind of like what would happen if you took one step east each day, your child continued taking a step east each day after your death, his child took a step east each day after your son’s death, and so on and so forth, generation after generation.

As the days, weeks, months, years, decades, and lifetimes passed, your family would still be in the same country, the same part of the country, and probably even the same state—but three thousand years from now, your distant descendant will end up drowning in some ocean or lake.

Wait a second. Uh… bad example.

It’s actually like what happens to a young, passionate, newlywed couple over time.

Day eight seems no different than day seven, day nine seems no different than day eight, and day ten seems no different than day nine—but forty years later, there’s not a thing about your spouse that you find the least bit tolerable, let alone likeable or lovable.

Living things tend to change the same way.

A tweak here and a tweak there, and the next thing you know, you’re Fred and Ethel Mertz.

Or, um… a tweak here, a tweak there, and within a billion years, an amoeba will become some piss drunk college guy puking into a toilet.

But there’s more to it than that.

The tweaks are guided and shaped by something.

Suppose we lived in a world where the biggest butthead usually ended up living the longest and having the most children. Well, after ten thousand years, the world would be nothing but a bunch of enormous buttheads (—sort of like modern day France, but bigger and with more people), due to a process known as Natural Selection of Buttheads, or Survival of the Biggest Butthead.

In other words, when certain traits (like, say, buttholeness) give a living thing a better chance of living longer and having more children, those traits tend to spread as they’re passed on from generation by generation.

But there’s just a bit more to it than that.

The world isn’t the same everywhere you look, and it hasn’t remained the same since day one.

A 1500s Las Vegas desert favors people who can bear hot weather, while a 2000s Las Vegas casino favors people who can count cards; in Silicon Valley, nerds get ahead, while in San Fernando Valley, silicone filled women (CENSORED); in the 20,000s BC, no on gave a crap if you could hit a small ball into a small hole with a club, whereas nowadays, Nike might give 20 million craps a year; and in the world of fashion modeling, huge butts usually equal small salaries, but in the world of hip-hop videos, a big butt can earn you $10,000 per cheek per month (and much more if you sleep with 50 Ice or Dre Z, MMD [Doctor of Murder and Marijuana]).

In other words, the world is filled with a wide variety of ever changing environments—and different environments favor different qualities, and shape living things differently over the generations.

But there’s just a bit more to it than that.

The world has contained and still contains barriers that prevent living things from migrating. If it weren’t for those barriers, living things and their genes would have the opportunity to get around and prevent a species from branching into two.

In other words, the world is sort of like a bunch of clubs—each of which has its own unique rules regarding who gets in (and no—the bouncer can’t be bribed).

Or better yet, it’s kind of like a bunch of clubs that almost never let anyone out, almost never let anyone new in, and only allow certain type of people to survive. (And you thought clubs in Harlem were violent.)

But there’s just a bit more to it than that.

Or actually, there isn’t.

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About the Author:
Rodney Ohebsion
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