Porocrom’s Crappaper

There have been some pretty astounding products invented in our time.
- The clock… an incredible synthesis of intuition and failed practical jokes: “Hey Stavros, could you look directly into the sun and tell me what time it is?” “Sure just a… WAIT A MINUTE! You can’t fool me with that trick more than 7 times!”
- The radio… what a marvel of human intuition. Using rays that nobody can even see, we are able to harness the power of the cosmos itself to be able to listen to crappy offensive morning shows.
- The clock radio… just when you thought the radio couldn’t get ANY BETTER, they added a clock!


But the product we are concerned with today surpasses all previous forays into human invention. This is the perfect marriage of the psychology of human nature and the chemistry of human betterment. Oh yes beer fans, I’m talking about the revolution in brewmastery, MOSLON KICK.


If you are not familiar with this particular product, Kick is a beer inspired by the Drew Carey Show’s ‘Buzz beer’. It contains “a natural source of caffeine”, which is to be contrasted with the multitude of artificial sources that people are getting into like eating rocks or injecting ferret semen. But the marketing geniuses at Molson decided that there was one thing that drunk people really need, and that’s a hyper boost of energy.

Executive: All right guys, we’re down in the market share. We need to come up with a bold, decisive product that will blow the entire beer-making industry on its ass.

Marketing guy #1: How about a beer that makes you drunk faster? Like… a SUPER-beer.

Executive: Malt liquor?

#1: YES! Oh… wait… nevermind.

Marketing guy #2: What if we vitaminize our products so as to halt the progression of serious liver and tissue damage caused by years of chronic alcohol abuse?

Executive: Healthy beer? What a great idea! Okay, go outside, wait 5 minutes, then burst through the door at full speed and say “I’VE GOT IT!”

#2: (Looking confused) Why?

Executive: C’mon, it’ll be fun!

#2: Okay… (Leaves room)

(Executive stands up, locks the door and props a chair against the knob)

Executive: Okay, anyone have any SERIOUS ideas? (Everyone thinks)

Marketing guy #3: If only there was some way to get people addicted to beer more than they are already.

#1: Yeah, and to ensure that people start to weed themselves out at the same time so we don’t have to do any long-term studies on the health effects.

#3: What can we add to beer to make people both addicted AND stupid enough to do ridiculous dangerous shit?

All 3 at once: CAFFEINE!

(A loud thud is heard from the door)


The human brain is a marvelous organ, especially when it comes to self-preservation. Your brain KNOWS when you’ve had too much to drink, and it makes you too tired to actually act out any of the ridiuclous plans you come up with when you’re drunk, like trying to fight a skinhead or an entire university for that matter. But, after you get a few KICK into your system, all of a sudden you’re abounding with energy and the wherewithal to commit acts that will ensure you a hallowed spot in the Darwin Awards.

On a more serious note, there are idiots out there who will SWEAR that a cup of coffee will sober you up enough to drive. These are the same geniuses who will think “I’ve had a 24 of Kick, so therefore I have enough caffeine in my system to ensure that my driving will be STELLAR.”


In a continued attempt to protect our readers, we at Porocrom are releasing a new product: POROCROM SNOOZIN’ BOOZIN’ Beer. It’s a clever combination of beer and sleeping pills. After a couple of these babies, you’re guaranteed not to do anything stupid… except maybe choke on your own tongue…

You do it every day. You get up, stumble into the kitchen, make yourself a cup of coffee, get dressed and washed up, put on your shoes and you’re off to work. Yet, in this simple succession of events, it is easy to forget the most important of all: Tying your shoelaces.

Indeed, where would you be without tying your shoelaces? Probably lying in a puddle of mud somewhere, that’s where. The secret art of shoelace tying has been passed from father to son for centuries, yet noone really knows where it all began. Until now! Striving to provide you with groundbreaking information, our team of highly specialised archaeologists, anthropologists and carpenters has uncovered a surprisingly detailed history of shoelace tying.

It appears that the notion of shoelace tying first appeared on March 13th, 1848 when Johannes Speicherstufler, a well known Dutch slaver, after having had his breakfast which his numerous slaves brought to him, got out of bed and exclaimed, “Tie my shoelaces!”. Unfortunately, at that time, shoelaces did not exist, and shoes were one-size-fits-all. Therefore, nobody knew how to tie them, resulting in the untimely death of 3,198 slaves in Speicherstufler’s possession. Speicherstufler, after realising that he had eliminated his only source of revenue in a moment (or rather, a day) of anger, sold all his assets to ensure that he could go on living in the same way as before. Immediately after the sale, he bought everything back, because how was he going to live same as before if he didn’t live same as before, duh.

This incident was promptly forgotten after the dogs ate all the slaves, and the notion of tying one’s shoelaces was also, forgotten, until an Italian man, Tonino Camirtoni, spilled pasta on his shoes while eating, but instead of picking it up and eating it, as he usually would, he sat and stared in wonder at the new form of his shoes. He immediately proceeded to decorate his shoes with string, which made them infinitely prettier and, admittedly, a bit gay. After years and years of decoration, Camirtoni’s son, John Smith (he wasn’t really Camirtoni’s son, his wife had made the beast with two backs with an English sailor, but Camirtoni was not aware of that) had the notion of actually implementing the string in the shoe, thus enabling fastening and unfastening.

It is not hard to imagine that soon after that shoelace tying would finally be implemented, but John Smith was not the brightest bulb in the shed. Indeed, he just left the shoelaces untied, which caused him to fall all over the place all day, but fascinated with his invention as he was, he did not mind. It was not until Smith got married, that his wife, Patricia Provolone, had the idea to tie John’s shoelaces so that he would stop falling around and actually get some work done around the house.

Patricia’s knot was crude and weak at first, requiring days to be untied by the wearer but coming apart only minutes after tying (you might have seen this knot design nowadays in prank stores), but she eventually perfected the technique, reaching what was known as the “Single-feathered papillon”, the ancestor of today’s “Normal papillon”.

The person who perfected Patricia’s original design was, coincidentally. her great-great-great grandson, Angus McAdams (yes, I know that’s a Scottish name, this is a blog, what did you expect, continuity?). McAdams was frustrated by the “Single-feathered papillon”, which he could never tie, so he reckoned he would double his odds and go with the “Normal papillon”. His exhilaration was great when he found that he could easily tie the new knot, and he allegedly screamed to his wife “Eh, Annie, get yer stinken arse over ‘ere”, to which she affectionately replied “Go ta ‘ell, ya lazy bum”. McAdams spread the design far and wide, and this is how it came to pass that everyone in the world now ties their shoelaces the same way.

Fellow men. I would like to alert you to a clear and present danger that threatens to destroy our very free will. I am talking about the insidious tactic of women invading our dreams and causing us to fall in love with them.

When I was younger I heard somewhere the notion that a girl prayed to God to make her get into the dream of the man she loved and make him love her back. At the time, I was like “Wtf you dumb broad, how the hell is that shit going to work?”, until I have had the very same thing happen to me. Yes, gentlemen, yesterday I dreamt of a girl and now I am in love with her. It is a most unfortunate incident.

I am sure you or a friend of yours has, at some point, fallen in love with a girl he dreamt about. I know this because two of my friends admitted it after I informed them of my predicament. At least I was lucky enough to fall in love with the hottest girl in our university (if you’re reading this, Kiki, that’s you), and not some random dog. A friend of mine, though, had the misfortune to fall in love with a girl he didn’t even like, and for a few months nonetheless! You can imagine the dismay such an incident might bring upon the subject, especially if his affections are not well-received.

It is not like us at Porocrom, though, to merely reiterate facts and stand idly by watching other people fall in the same trap. Caveat, dormitor, for your life is at stake. Our proposals are summarised here:

Legislation: You can always pressure your local congressman (I fear this only works in the U.S.) to enact a law that would prevent unauthorised access to people’s dreams by treacherous spinsters who would do anything to make a man fall in love with them. This law would not really prevent you from falling in love with women, but it would give you firm legal ground for suing the shit out of every woman who dared do it.

Stop sleeping: This is the most successful strategy. If you don’t sleep, they can’t haunt you. The catch is, though, that after a few days you will start to hallucinate, and you might fall in love with someone then. This is, however, highly unlikely. Another downside is that, generally, sleepless people tend not to perform as well in various tasks, such as knitting and sniping, so, if your line of work includes either or both, this technique might not suit you.

Get a girlfriend: This is nigh impossible to perform, for the simple reason that, hey, you’re a guy falling in love with women he dreamt of, does that sound like the kind of guy who could get a girlfriend to you? I am obviously the exception in this rule, because I do. Rule, that is. If you could do this, though, all your problems would be over, because hopefully your girlfriend would make you forget about the other woman with the ancient technique of fellatio.

Unfortunately, some of you might already be in the situation I so vividly describe. Fear not, gentle reader, for there might still be a chance for you. We have thought long and hard and we would like to propose the following:

Stalk her: The tried-and-true technique of stalking is one of the easiest and most effective techniques a man can employ. Equipped with a pair of nightvision goggles, a parabolic microphone and a hacker friend, no part of your loved one’s privacy will be left unexposed to your vigilant eye. You can optionally get a nightvision camera, if you want to savour the moments you spend together with your bride-to-be.

Confess your feelings: This one, I wouldn’t recommend. You could talk to her and tell her how you feel, but, no matter how cute this may be (in a somewhat disturbing way), it is ill-advised for two reasons. Firstly, would you want to be involved with a freak that fell in love with you in her sleep? I didn’t think so. Secondly, if you had any chance with her, you wouldn’t be wasting your life reading the putrid crap I spew, or perhaps the other way around.

Guile: If her IQ is in the single digits, you could try telling her that she is pregnant with your child, and that you would like to marry her to restore her honour. I have actually had this trick work on two occasions, but one was a vegetable and the other one was in a coma, so neither was very enthusiastic about marrying me. Or not marrying me, for that matter. Come to think of it, they were quite indifferent. I never got married to either, at any rate.

I hope this survival guide has helped you out of another difficult situation. Our next installment will feature ducks, because, as CNN.com mentions, jokes with ducks are considered particularly funny.

Tired of doing the same boring stuff every day? Is your life a mundane routine? Are you ugly? If you answered “yes” to any of the above, you are in the right place. We at Porocrom strive to give you the best and only the best, and we’ve done it again. After years of painstaking research, we give you…

Practical jokes: How to laugh at other people’s expense.

Pet ransom: Find a “missing pet” sign (they’re posted ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE) that includes an address. Make note of the address, the name, and the general characteristics of the pet. Go back home and write a letter using letters cut out of old Playboy issues that say “We have Bruno (or whatever the pet’s name is). We will be sending you one piece of him every week until you pay us $300,000. -Love, the dognappers”. Fashion a bloody paw (or take one from a dead dog and paint it) and include it in the letter. They won’t know where to reply, and you’ll be laughing your ass off. Repeat until you’re bored, but make sure to use a different pet part every time.

Terrorist alert: Get a shoebox and spraypaint it black. Paint the word “BOMB“ on it with big clean letters. Go to a subway or airport, sit somewhere and hug the shoebox tightly while rocking forwards and backwards in your seat and mumbling incoherently to yourself. Looking at the floor helps, and so does inserting random phrases like “must kill everyone“ and “when will the voices stop?“. See how long you can go without getting arrested and/or shot. (Warning: Americans, try this one at your own risk. You’ll probably get shot in the head before walking in.)

Car ride: While you’re riding in your friend’s car and he’s driving (preferably at night) and he’s driving at a perfectly normal speed, in his lane on an empty, straight road with no car in sight, suddenly go “Hey, cut it out“. He’ll go “What?“. Say “Seriously dude, that’s not funny, cut it out“. Look increasingly worried, and after a few moments go “OH MY GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! DO YOU WANT TO GET US KILLED?!“ and suddenly pull the handbrake. It won’t do anything at all to stop the car, but it will scare the shit out of your friend (and also mildly damage his handbrake). Laugh while he pulls over and punches you.

Mono: While you’re at an expensive buffet with all the rich people and getting food, start coughing at a reasonably small distance from the buffet without covering your mouth. Sound really REALLY sick. Then turn around to the people who are staring at you and say “I’m sorry, but my mono has really weakened my immune system“. Voila, all the free food you can eat.

Feel the love: This one’s for the ladies. If you’re out on a first date in a crowded restaurant (bars/club don’t work so well) with someone and he proves to be a real jerk, suddenly stand up and say loudly to him “Oh my god, how could you do this to my sister, she’s only 9 years old, you pervert!“. Sound genuinely distressed and walk out crying if you can. Watch through the glass while he tries to avoid molestation charges.

Stay tuned for more, folks.

Today I will write about my dream car. It is a car I have dreamt of having ever since I was 8 and I saw the pope on a visit to some odd country, or maybe it was his non-country, the Vatican, the only place in the world where homosexual marriages are allowed.

If you are not familiar with it, the popemobile is a dope ride. The pope gets out on his balcony, flashes his flashlight on the sky, projecting the shape of the cross in the night sky (if it’s day and he needs a ride, God darkens the sun for a bit with like an eclipse or by changing the timezone so the pope can shine his thing), and his minions see the sign and immediately rush (with a top speed of 10 mph) to do the pope’s bidding, which is to take him for a ride.

The pope mobile is, as I have mentioned earlier, dope. It has an engine that is faster than a walking person(!), its own driver, and this huge room of reinforced glass, where the pope sits on a throne (which is also a toilet, because the pope is so old). He sits in there and this car takes him for a ride across millions of people who want to touch him and stuff, but they can’t, because of all the glass. It has full leather seats made out of the skin of heretics, and it’s painted in a pleasing pearly white colour. My dream car is somewhat similar, although I will make modifications to the original design.

First of all, I will have Ferrari make me a new engine. I want it to be faster than the speed of light, so that people I pass by appear frozen, like in that one Duck Tales episode where Gyro makes that device that makes people run with the speed of light, and when Huey, Louie and Dewey turn it on and walk everyone appears still because they’re so fast. That’s how fast my car would go. And I would ride around the hood, pickin’ up hos and pimps and partying all day with tha dawgs in the specially modified compartment, which would be the size of the Chrysler Building. I would have NASA design that, because it needs a system to lift all that stuff.

Of course, the entire structure would be made of 12-inch thick glass reinforced with steel, which would be made to withstand nuclear explosions and angry wives. It would have a bar, an indoor swimming pool, three dining rooms and a huge kitchen, in which chefs from all over the world would prepare culinary delights for my esteemed guests. I would also have small holes drilled in the glass, just big enough to accomodate the barrel of my H&K MSG90 sniper rifle, and of course an uzi. This will aid the drive-by shootings that some guest might want to perform, or just to practice shooting homeless bums. Of course, the glass will be tempered with melanin-producing cells, which, when stimulated, will secrete large quantities of melanin, effectively making the glass a one-way mirror (or two-way mirror, for you Englishmen, Englishwomen and Englisheffeminatemen).

I am not sure, however, about how much this would cost, so I have set up a paypal fund. Please send anything you can to poromenos at poromenos dot org. We accept dollars, euros and any kind of livestock. 100% of the proceeds will go towards a good cause, namely the aforementioned one. Thanks.