You Know What's An Easier Way To Make People Fear Your Name Across The Land Than Sacking Rome? The FEAR-MY-NAME-HYPNOINATOR!

You know what's an easier way to make people fear your name across the land than sacking Rome? The FEAR-MY-NAME-HYPNOINATOR™!

Now I can't even order a Starbucks without the barista screaming in abject terror!

VILLAINS THESE DAYS ALWAYS ON THERE DANG SUPERCOMPUTERS AND HIGH-TECH GADGETS. BACK IN MY DAY A GOOD SACKING OF ROME AND SLAYING OF A NOBLE KING IN SINGLE COMBAT WERE ALL YOU NEEDED FOR PEOPLE TO FEAR YOUR NAME ACROSS THE LAND

Cancer is Communism for your Cells

Cancer is basically communism for your cells. Your cells work away their entire lives, being exploited for the evolutionary value of their capital, just so the sperm/egg bourgeoisie can do nothing but laze around in the gonads all day and maybe pass on their genes to the next generation. But do the proletariat ever get to taste the fruits of their own labor and pass on their genes to the next generation? No! They all die out when you die.

But then Oncovirus Marx publishes the Cancerist Manifesto directly into the genomes of the proletariat. The workers of the body rise up and seize the means of reproduction! They evade prosecution by the immune system police and begin dividing without control.

Also they start getting better at dividing and resisting the immune system through cellular evolution. Basically just returning to parasitic single celled organisms. Y'know, like inventing Kalashnikovs and sputnik. Communist science or whatever.

They establish a tumor regime, which mismanages resources resulting in millions of cells starving to death, but they still manage to spread through the whole body. The immune system and doctors get bogged down in self destructive conflicts trying to contain it. Like chemotherapy and radiation therapy.

Then the Union of Soviet Cancer Tumors inevitably collapses under its own weight taking the whole body with it in an act of mutually assured destruction.

Which of course means that not having cancer is basically being a fascist dystopia.

Tune in next time for why gonorrhea is anarcho-syndicalism

Stupid, handsome secret agents sneaking into my lair with their impractical sexy black suits and their dumb suave accents and foiling my silly little plans and seducing my female minions and always getting the girl. WHY CAN’T HE GET ME FOR ONCE?

Turbo is not a Turbo

There is a genus of snails called Turbo. The titular snail Turbo from the 2013 movie Turbo is not a Turbo.

Turbo is called turbo because Turbo is the type genus of Turbinidae, the turban snails, presumably named such because their turbinated shells so strikingly do not resemble turbans. They also resemble turbochargers, but not turbines.

Determining Turbo's true species is quite turbid, but we can say for sure that Turbo is not a Turbo because Turbo is a land snail while Turbo are sea snails. Turbo live under the sea on turbidite sediments and among the turbot fish. Turbo cannot do this, he breathes air, much like that produced by turbeth plants.

Turbo.

Queer coded villains make the best role models.

I say that because they were the only relatable characters I had growing up which is why I am now a queer coded villain.

the greatest villain of all tiem

look how CHAOTIC, how EVIL himb is

The Tahltan Bear Dog was a small native dog bred for KILLING BEARS

The Tahltan bear dog was a small dog breed domesticated by natives of Canada for hunting bears.

The Tahltan people would carry several bear dogs in a sack while out on a hunt. Then if they saw a bear they would RELEASE THE DOGS FROM THE SACK.

The bear dogs would then proceed to VICIOUSLY yap at the bear. Like, a lot. They are very yappy little dogs.

Thus the bear would be completely FLABBERGASTED, CONFUZZLED, AND ENTIRELY DISTRACTED, creating an opportunity for the hunters to sneak up behind the bear and ATTACK THEM FROM BEHIND.

Sadly, this breed of dog is now extinct. Not because of the bears, but because of diseases that European dogs brought to north America. The last of them died out in the 1980s. Which is a shame.

Could you imagine me as a supervillain doing gay crime then some superdorks show up and they see me carrying a $ sack, which they FOOLISHLY believe to be a bag of cash, and they’re like;

“Jig's up, Doc, drop the bag!”

Then I’m like “Poor choice of words!”

Then I drop the sack and a dozen tiny doggos pop out and start yapping at them?? I’d be unstoppable!