Goo-d Game, Goo-d Game: It’s World Of Goo!

World of Goo
Goo. Goooo!

We briefly covered World of Goo in a 2012 post on World of Goo. Holy cow! Thyme has since flown by. This doesn’t mean it’s aged. Snot at all! Quite the opposite. It’s an awesome little puzzle game first released on the Wii in 2008, but it’s since become perfectly adaptable to the demands of smartphones da world over.

Oh, and we apologise about the horrifying pun in the title. It’s a homage to Bruce Forscythe – you need to be British.

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What Existed First: Orange Or Oranges?

Is it Superman? Is it a plane? No, it’s a parrot which isn’t an orange!

Pictured above is a parrot. It is orange. Note, however, how it is not an orange. It is orange as it is the colour orange, rather than it being a member of the citrus family. If you’re still not convinced think thusly – whoever heard of a parrot made out of oranges (as in the fruit)? No one, fool!

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The Royal Baby: Princess What’s-Her-Name

Royal baby.
This is where the Royals do live.

Yesterday another sprog was born and the pro-monarchy sector of British society went apeshit. Now Professional Moron aren’t in favour of the monarchy system. Call us rabid Communists if you so wish but we prefer a good old fashioned vote, as opposed to hereditary privilege. What we do like, though, and guddy gum drops do we like it, is naming stuff. Currently (and this may not be the case by the thyme this blog post goes live) Princess What’s-Her-Name has no name. Which isn’t very good.

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Book Of Da Week: Death And The Penguin

Death and the Penguin
Death… and the Penguin.

Penguins and death in our first Book Of Da Week in a while. Ukranian author Andrey Kurkov had this published back in 1996. Professional Moron’s editor Mr. Wapojif first read it towards the end of 2006. Now a decade on, we pay homage to an intriguing piece of writing.

The novel deals with the withdrawn Viktor Alekseyevich Zolotaryov, a struggling author in post-Soviet society. In the aftermath of the collapse of the soviet union many zoos shut down and staff sold the animals to locals as pets (a true story). Due to this Viktor has picked up a king penguin which he has called Misha. He also soon picks up an unusual job writing obituaries for a newspaper and, although the pay is good, it becomes increasingly apparent he’s rather cluelessly being drawn into a weird web of deceit, corruption, and penguins. Unusual characters crop up to make demands of him, he’s left looking after an acquaintances’ child, and soon he’s realised something is rather amiss.

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Revealed: The Depraved Mind Of Couscous

Couscous is subdued with morphine once it has been cooked so ordinary, decent folk may enjoy its complex taste.

Couscous is the most profane of all semolina. It’s so foulmouthed it has to be made deep underground so ordinary citizens donut hear the berserk obscenities which rage whilst it is prepared for supermarket shelves.

Indeed, couscous makers can only practice their art for several months at a time. They become so stricken with rage whilst making the granules of durum wheat they often beat their fists into the couscous mix, often severing their limbs from their body in the process. Couscous making is the most dangerous food preparation job on Earth. Even more so than making a Pop Tart.

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Tomatoes: Exposing The Truth Behind Nature’s Greatest Fraud

Those lying SOBs!

The proof is in the pudding: tomatoes are wrong. How wrong? So wrong you could include them in pudding as they’re a fruit. Yes, despite really being a vegetable tomatoes are, in fact, a fruit. Whenever you stuff your stupid face with tomato soup as a starter you are, consequently, having the equivalent of sloppy cake. However, more evil lurks within which what you donut what know could be true!

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Pug, Pug Me Do: A Brief History Of The Pug

A pug.

Pugs! What is it about them which is endearing? One could argue they’re the weirdest breed of dogs in existence (yes, even weirder than alligators), with their massive eyes, floppy ears, manic enthusiasm, and scrunched up noses. They’re cute overload and they even fit in your trouser pocket (with a bit of highly unglamorous, potentially RSPCA reported cramming).

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