Life Before Cracked: Exploring the Comedy Websites I Used to Frequent

It’s been about four years since I first discovered I don’t remember the exact date, but I do remember the exact article I read that made me take notice of the site. It was Ian Fortey’s article about awesome cases of Internet vigilantism. I knew I had been to the site before, but Stumbleupon had brought me back there. I ended up liking the article so much that I  decided to browse the website on my own. Then, I either read this story by Robert Brockway or watched this video by Michael Swaim and Katie Willert . I’m not sure which one I experienced first, so let’s say it was both of these that turned from “the funny site that I only kind of knew about,” to “The Greatest website ever why haven’t my shitty friends already been converted?”

And that basically did it. I’ve been a fan ever since. And just like a very persistent cult member, or a regular member of the Jehovah’s Witnesses, I’ve been spreading the word, and annoying the shit out of my friends with their articles ever since. I even stopped visiting the other websites I used to visit, because now Cracked filled just about all my other comedy website needs.

Eat a swarm of angry dicks, Buzzfeed

Eat a swarm of angry dicks, Buzzfeed

However, I am the kind of person who loves to go back through my old writings, jokes, or passtimes to see how I’ve progressed as a writer and as an overall human being (I may have been a bit quick to judge Buzzfeed up there). That’s what I’m going to do right now. So, below are comedy websites (or websites with comedy on them) that I used to frequent before Cracked came along and screwed everything up for them.

1. T-Shirt Hell

Ah, T-shirt Hell. I’ve known about this website  since 2003, which makes it the oldest comedy website that I visit. I remember my first shirt from there. It said, “What Would Jesus Do (for a Klondike Bar).” Over the ten years since my brother showed me that site, I’ve amassed a collection of 29 shirts. If you’ve ever seen a picture of me, then you’ve probably seen me wearing one of their shirts.

Like this picture from my Instagram:

Or this one of me and my baby cousin Carter (who is wearing the T-Shirt Hell-Baby Hell shirt that I got for him):

Clearly, no one has ever taught me how to hold a baby.

Clearly, no one has ever taught me how to hold a baby.

Or this one where I display my patronage of Christmas and girl-on-girl action:

What I’m getting at here is that I have a veritable fuck ton of these shirts, so part of the reason I stopped visiting there as often is because I really don’t need another T-shirt. Maybe ever. And since I’ve seen all the shirts that they have at least a thousand times, I think it’s a better use of my time to read dick jokes on and save paying attention to T-Shirt Hell whenever they send me a new shirt notification.

2. Stumbleupon

Stumbleupon was the biggest victim to my new found fan-ship of Cracked, which is particularly sad, since it was the website that introduced me to Cracked in the first place. A student I was tutoring introduced me to it back in November of 2008, and for the next, say, 10 months, I was Stumbling upon (Stumbleuponing?) random websites any time I was at a computer. Looking back, I was kind of like an internet hobo: riding the rails of Stumbleupon, traveling from website to website just looking for a laugh. You had to be a man back in those days. The only person who’s got your ass was you, and you could bet every penny remaining on your Amazon gift cards that that needle eyed bastard ShockerLovr69 was watching you, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce on top of you and pound you with rape jokes. Sure, I’ve seen men die- many from my own hands. But I ain’t no killer. No, no, I’m a survivor. Killin’ meant that you lived another day on the Stumbleupon railway…
…Jesus Christ. What the fuck am I talking about?

These guys don’t know. Lousy Hobos.

Anyway, after I found Cracked, I stopped visiting Stumbleupon entirely. And other than that brief period 2 years ago when God had forbidden me to use facebook and I needed another way to waste my time, I hadn’t been back on the site since. That is until about two weeks ago. Now, I mainly use it in a not well thought out attempt to find inspiration to write. It never works. I honestly should never get back on the site since I know it’s going to waste my time, and I absolutely do not want that. But how else will I find out about the crazy awesome new green-homes that are featured on And another thing- Stumbleupon, please stop taking me to the websites I already frequent. I know I liked articles from the Onion, Vice Magazine, and Cracked, but I go to those sites all the time now. Anything you try to show me, I’ve probably already seen. Take me to a site I haven’t been to yet. No, not the last page of the internet. You’ve shown that to me on three separate occasions. The novelty has worn off, and I think we both know that I’m going to continue browsing.

And while I’m on the subject of seeing the same thing over and over again…

3. The Cheezburger Network
I cannot honestly say that I was ever a “fan” of The Cheezburger Network so much as “prey to one of their joke traps on Facebook.” What would happen was someone I knew would post something from the site, and in my moment of weakness, my curiosity would get the better of me and I would click on the link. The next thing I’d know, it’s three in the morning and I’m on page 40 of Roflrazzi reading a photo comic involving Leonardo DiCaprio and Tobey McGuire. So while my stupid friends still occasionally post pictures from that internet shit gutter, I’ve long since chosen to stick with my Cracked articles that at least teach me something other than how we English Majors get a little too worked up over the differences between “Your,” and “You’re” when there are far worse atrocities being wrought upon our beloved language.
Note: I didn’t actually visit The Cheeseburger Network at the time of writing this because I’m trying to have this post up before Christmas.

1. Acid Cow

Ugh, this was a dark time in my comedy life. I visited this site heavily during Stumbleupon’s reign on my free time, and Acid Cow was one of the sites it directed me to. Back then, I only ever visited the website so that I could find funny pictures to make into motivational posters. I’ve long since given up making those posters if favor of jokes that are actually funny. During the year or so that I made those posters, I crapped out about 230 of them, with only a handful actually being funny enough for me to be only mildly embarrassed by them. Here’s the funniest one:


And that picture isn’t even from Acid Cow. That’s one I took in New Orleans of my one time friend, Lady Gaga fan, and potential mass murderer, Lady Caggiano. So, I essentially wasted all that time searching through Acid Cow’s bottomless pic dumps looking for funny pictures, only to use those pictures in what I would describe now as the dregs of my comedy writing career. I guess I shouldn’t credit with me no longer visiting this site, as it was more of my own new-found hatred of Motivational posters that did it. But I’d like to give credit to anyway. Thank you Cracked! You saved me from a life of telling not funny jokes over pictures that could be classified as the “Two and a Half Men” of pictorial comedy. You wonderful people are heroes.

Some more than others

As I was writing this post, I moseyed over to Acid Cow for the first time in at least three years to see if I found any of the pictures in the pic dump funny. Out of the 79 pictures in that dump, one made me laugh. And that was of the new Wendy’s spokesperson (You know, the red haired nymph that magically appears only to gloat over random people’s fast food choices) taking a wide mouthed and eyed bite at a sandwich. Shit. I’m so embarrassed by my past self.

5. Cyanide and Happiness

Oh man, I was fucking obsessed with this site before I discovered I have my best friend and knife aficionado to thank for that. For those of you who don’t already know, Cyanide and Happiness is a web comic featuring crudely drawn stickish figures and all of their wacky, sometimes amoral, adventures. I was actually a pretty hardcore fan of the site until Stumbleupon came along and ruined everything. Here is probably my favorite comic they’ve ever made:

Recently, I liked the comic on Facebook, and now I get the latest comic strips on my news feed on a regular basis. And this brings me to a very important question: Why in the spinning tirade of fiery fucks did I ever stop visiting this site?! There is no excuse for it. For all the other sites I’ve mentioned, I’ve had a decent reason: I’ve matured as a writer, I found a better site, I have enough offensive shirts. But there is no excuse for me leaving Cyanide and Happiness. It’s a web comic- it’s not like it will suck up all of my time. Quite frankly, I’m ashamed of myself, and the only way to rectify this glaring mistake of mine is to go back and read every single comic of the last four years. So if you’ll please excuse me, I need to atone for my comedy sins.



A Letter to Make My Brother’s Time in Basic Training Hell

As many of you probably don’t know, my older brother decided to be a hero for once and join the Army. It’s his dream to find and capture Osama Bin Laden. My family and I don’t have it in us to tell him that Bin Laden is already dead. How exactly do you tell someone that the person he wants to find has been dead for almost two years? Where is your goddamn internet meme for that one, Internet? Do I have to do everything on here?

OK, so I'm not that good at making memes. Sorry.

OK, so I’m not that good at making memes. Sorry.

But that’s all beside the point. My brother is now in basic training, and he had even sent us a letter detailing his life in boot camp. In summary: it blows. Other than the normal shittyness that preparing your mind and body to become a trained combat soldier, he managed to split his head open… on a flat screen TV. Holy shit. Before I go any further, I would like to point out that I love my brother and I support him and all of the stupid things he does, but Jesus Christ in a clown wig, a TV?! How do you even do something like that during basic training? Was it thrown at him because he was acting like an idiot?

So after the headache I received from reading his letter had subsided, it was time for me to write one back to him. But there is one big rule: I cannot write anything that would give his commanding officers ammunition to make his life a living hell. You see, in basic training, the CO’s use any display of individuality against the recruits. If you wear a t-shirt with a logo on it on your first day, they will make that day suck for you. Or, if someone sends you a letter or a package, the CO’s will open it and use whatever is in the letter/ package to make your life harder. That means that you can only send packages with necessities (toothbrush, deodorant, underwear), and that your letters cannot contain any information that could be embarrassing. That doesn’t fly with me, because just about everything I write is embarrassing to at least one member of my family.

Plus, I am also that kind of dick that is told not to do something, but then does it out of pure defiance of authority. It’s my personality quirk that makes me a loveable character. However, I really don’t want to make my brother’s life that much more awful while he’s there (he has to come back sometime), and I really don’t feel like getting my ass kicked by him. So instead, I wrote a delightfully shitbox crazy letter to him and decided to post it here instead. This way, I’m still saying terrible things that could get him in trouble, but unless his CO’s are fans of my blog (which is hopeful but not likely) he won’t be tortured for it. Here is the letter:

(I would like you all to know that everything in the letter below is completely fabricated. Each sentence is an outright lie that should only be laughed at and then dismissed, not taken for fact. Nothing in this letter is true. You wouldn’t believe the problems I’ve had with that in the past.)

Dear brother, Justy-wustykins,

How’s that weird rash on your groin? I hope you remembered to bring your ointment. And how’s basic training? I hope you’ve managed to keep your crying to a minimum of once a day, and if not you’ve at least found a quiet secluded place where you and all the other criers can go to weep like children and not be found. I only hope you don’t ruin the hiding spot for the others, because you are such a loud crier. I do have to admit, though, I am impressed that you didn’t go to the infirmary after cutting your head open (on a fucking TV, really?). I can only imagine the wailing your vocal cords managed to produce after that. I’m going to assume that your CO’s had to pull you by your ankles out from under your bed. I hope my little Justy-wustykins is feeling better from it though.

As for the training itself, how’s that going? Have they taught you how to fire a gun without dropping it and shrieking like a little girl? And while we’re on the subject of your feverish lady shrieks, how are your night terrors? I hope they aren’t so frequent that your bunkmates want to smother you with your pillow. Just remember: before you go to bed think of happy things, and never, ever picture a porcelain bear holding a knife or a murder of ravens removing your internal organs through a gash in your stomach. Also try not to imagine the billions and billions of germs that are on every surface you touch every day. They give you your worst night terrors, and despite the fact that this is a silly phobia, those germs are real and they are out to get you. They’re even in your bed!

As for things here, life is pretty normal. I managed to trick the native population of a small island off the coast of the Philippines that I was a god. I then had them construct a 50 foot long laying statue of me and then had them bury it for my reincarnation. So far, that’s the fifth time I’ve pulled off that stunt, and each time, they actually go through with it! Hopefully, centuries from now, archeologists all across the world will find these buried statues and wonder who was this mythical Wolf King, Minigan Blackwood, and how did he get so many different cultures to worship him.

In unrelated news, Mom and dad and everyone else are doing fine. Just living their ordinary, boring lives.

Before I go, I want tell you something that I know I don’t say often, if ever. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of how you’ve taken up this cause for our nation, I’m proud of your willingness to sacrifice your comfort to help defeat our vile enemies and return our nation to its former glory. And the training you are putting yourself through for our cause will be crucial in tearing down their godless regime. Just think about it. Every trick you learn, every weapon you know how to operate, every maneuver you memorize will ultimately be another tool for us to destroy the lumbering giant of a civilization. Our enemy will never see such an attack coming.  This plan is brilliance in its most true, weaponized form. Your work in the US army is also our God’s work. Praise be to his name.

Anyway, That’s all the news I have for you now, Justy-wustykins. I hope this letter found you not in a piss soaked, muddy, weeping heap of an excuse for a man, but I know deep down that the odds are not in my favor for that one.

Praise Allah.



Your brother, Minigan Muhammad Blackwood: Wolf King

P.S. Along with this letter you should have received a package. In it is various dildos from your extensive collection. I know how much you must miss them. And don’t worry- your favorite, Mr. Squeakers, was the first one I added to the box. You’re welcome.

Alright folks, I have one more thing to share with you this week. Last week, my friend Jeremiah and I submitted a video to’s Shot Clock Video Challenge. The rules were that the video had to be no longer than 30 seconds long, shot on a smart phone, and reference one of the teams in this year’s March Madness tournament. Unfortunately, we did not make it into the final four, which means that our video wouldn’t be featured on Cracked for a chance to win a Canon T3I video camera to shoot videos with. I still want to share my video with the world, however, so my blog will have to do. Here it is, 20 seconds of pure hilarity:

What Pitching an Article to has Taught Me About Myself.

I realized recently that the main difference between my older posts and my newer posts (other than my writing being more horrible in the older posts) is that I rarely inform my readers of how my everyday life is going. I’m going to try and correct this problem now. But just as a warning, this might not be all that funny.

So, yes, as the title stated, I am writing an article for Cracked. I don’t want to give out all the information about it (that would take too long and I don’t want to jinx the pitch more that I already have) but I will tell you that it’s going to be about Pixar movies. And over the past 3 weeks that I’ve been working on it, I’ve noticed a few things about myself as a person that I didn’t expect to find out by pitching an article to a website famous for its dick jokes. Anyway, I thought I’d share the things I’ve learned with you now.

-I have a serious ego problem
When I first started writing the pitch for Cracked, I was thinking to myself, “Man, this is going to be so easy. I’ll just fart out this pitch, let the moderators and editors swoon over it, and blow their goddamn minds with the full article when they ask me to write it, which will be next week by the latest.” I posted my pitch into the pool of submissions right before I started getting ready for work on Thursday the 5th. When I got home the next morning, I had received a message. Fuck yes. Bring on the swooning.

Minigan Blackwood, you must be our God. Please, impregnate our women!

Well actually, no. What it said was more like: “Hey, you’re new here! Welcome! Now, here’s what you did wrong. You didn’t properly format the article, so you’ll need to fix that. Here is a link to show you how. You also don’t have enough entries, and one of them seems to be more of the speculations of a crazy person than a supportable point. You might want to fix that too. Get to it.” (I would like to point out that that is a much less polite version of what the moderator said to me.)
Fuck knuckles. I read that page that he linked several times ever since I got my user name. How the fuck did I forget something as simple as “needs 6 entries” and “five of them can only be 4 sentences long?”
…OK. That was only a minor brainfart on what will be a hugely successful article. And that was totally my bad. Let’s just fix those, and add an entry about Pixar being a single universe, post it as a new thread, and prepare for internet glory.
Nope. I wasn’t supposed to post it as a new thead, so sayeth another moderator. Fuck.
Alright! Now I fixed that, and revised my old entry. Let’s just message the other moderator and let him know I fixed what he wanted and…
…He didn’t like my new entry. He wanted me to be more specific about how Pixar is a single universe
Ok, that’s an easy fix, especially since that’s an important point that leads into my final entry. Just add a couple of examples, and they’ll be sure to accept it.
Well, no. That won’t work either because they already had an article that talked about the Easter eggs from Pixar films. Damnit! That one was important. I didn’t want to have to do this, but it looks like I may have to argue with the moderator on this one. Well, “argue isn’t the right word. Let’s use, “respectfully disagree.”

Pictured: me “respectfully disagreeing” with the moderator

His message back to me restated his claim in a different way and pointed out that since it was an important idea it could go with the final entry; it just wasn’t important enough to warrant its own. You win this round, Moderator.
And all of this was just from the Thursday that I first pitched it to Sunday. There is a whole other week and a half of me changing things and them rejecting it. I was actually pretty disillusioned by the whole thing. Why isn’t this easier? I just figured they’d accept my article. I mean, It’s not like I’ve never written on the internet before. I write for my blog all the ti- Oh I see what the problem is.
Since I graduated from college a year and a half ago, I haven’t tried to publish anything. Not a goddamn thing. This is my first article pitch to Cracked, and I sent it in 9 months after I signed up for their writer’s workshop. Not only that, the only feedback I’ve gotten on my writing was back in February when I sent a story I was working on to my friend Brittany, who was in my fiction group in college. So what’s happened is that I’ve gotten so used to just farting out things for my blog without anyone stopping me or telling me that it needs work, that the fact that someone at The Most Successful Comedy Website is shooting down my ideas again and again is really uncomfortable to me. Especially because it made me realize how much of an ego I had gained since college. I mean, sure, I’m always confident that my writing is good. I write all the time, and I usually hate things that I’ve written 6 months prior. That has to mean that I’m getting better as a writer. But I shouldn’t think that my writing is so good that I will immediately get to write my pitch in full and have it published. That’s just crazy. When did I get this bad? I’m never this egotistical; I’m seriously the most humble motherfucker alive.










Nothing says, “Humble” like showing several images of past blogs and tweets to prove how awesome you are.


– It takes some force outside of my control to motivate me

As I mentioned, it took me a year and a half after graduating, and 9 months after signing up for Cracked to finally pitch an article. Why it took me so long involves a bunch of different excuses but they all come down to, “I’m kind of lazy.” But then, what motivated me to finally pitch an article? Well, it was this:

Now, I had an idea for a Cracked article about Pixar long before this tweet, so once I saw it, I knew that I had to get my idea published before Dan O’Brien screwed everything up for me. Because let’s be honest, I cannot be that original, and there is a very good chance that at least one of the arguments that I make is going to show up in the video. That means that if the video goes up first, it will be assumed by everyone that I just took my ideas from the video. I cannot have this. So I started writing my pitch as soon as I could. I will not let my article be considered as a less funny, non-video version of the After Hours episode. It’s already going to be that, so I need to get it in first so that I at least look original.
But that really doesn’t matter because, I don’t have a say when the article goes up. If they accept it, it could be in two weeks, it could be in a month, it could be in two months. I don’t know when my article will go up, and I don’t know when the video will go up. All I have to go on is getting it accepted first.
-I am kind of paranoid
Once I saw Swaim’s tweet, I resolved to tell off this O’Brien character so that he knew he was going to have to compete with me. I did this by slamming the shit out of him on Twitter:

The ball’s in your court, Date Of Birth Incorporated.

I didn’t think much of it other than, “If he actually reads this, he’ll probably be disappointed on how not funny it is. But as my pitch needed more and more work, part of me (See: my ego) couldn’t help but suspect that that damn Dan O’Brien was behind all this.
I know that it’s irrational; he’s the head editor for that site. If he has the time between everything he does to be so pissed off by my one not that funny tweet, then he really needs a hobby or a girlfriend or maybe superpowers so that he can start fighting crime on the side.
That’s what I know. But there still is that annoying voice in the back of my head (it sounds a lot like Smeagol from Lord of the Rings) telling me that everyone at Cracked is against us and that they’re filthy hobbitses and that they stole the precious from us.
It kind of comes back to my ego. It’s like even though I know it isn’t true, there is still a part of me that’s thinking, “Clearly, Minigan, your writing is amazing. That’s not the issue. The issue here is that everyone at Cracked is intimidated by your amazing writing powers.” That isn’t a healthy way to think. And not just because Brockway can out crazy me, and Seanbaby can beat the shit out of me. It’s unhealthy because if I think that and do not retort with what’s really going on (my pitch still needs work; I am foil hat wearing levels of paranoid) then how am I ever supposed to take negative feedback on my work. I’m a writer. It’s what I want to do. And that is one of the few things I am 100% sure of. That means that I need negative criticism to help me become a better writer. And that is exactly what they’re doing. I realize now that if they wouldn’t have had me change some of the things that need changing in my pitch, then those entries probably would have sucked. They’re only trying to help me, and it’s unfair of me to take it as an attack.

So if you’re reading this Dan, I know (and hope) that my paranoia is unjustified and I completely believe that you didn’t tell all the moderators and editors to make things incredibly difficult on me so that you could have your revenge for that tweet. Also if you reading this: Holy shit! Welcome to my blog!!!! Oh wow, this is such a huge honor! I’ve been a fan of yours for the past few years and I’m so happy that we get to finally meet! Omigod, I should’ve cleaned up this blog page. Everything is a mess and there’s no sense of order. This is so embarrassing. Feel free to peruse through my older posts; most of them are pretty amazing. Oh, and one more thing. That Smeagol sounding voice in the back of my head wants its precious back. He told me you’d know what he meant.

This is what Google Image Search came up with. I don’t know why my paranoid voice had a black girl, so I hope you just let her go.

– I’m not that bad of a person after all.
Despite how frustrating this may have been for me, I have been impressively able to not be a dick to the editors or moderators. I know that they are just doing their jobs and that they have to deal with dozens of different writers, some of them worse that I am, some much better, and hopefully no dicks. But, just like in real life and at a bodybuilding competition, unexpected dicks happen. Well, I was not going to be one of those unexpected dicks. After all, I worked a similar position when I was in college. I was a writing tutor, so I understand how difficult it is to tell someone that their writing doesn’t work while not insulting them about it to. The main difference is that I had the luxury of having the people I tutored not be anonymous.
Wait, I was only not a dick to the moderator and the editor. That doesn’t make me a good person because I can still be a dick to a bunch of people. Nevermind, everybody. I was wrong. I am still a bad person. That means I can still say awful things on this blog to make you laugh. Hurray!

“Yeaaaaah! Wooooo! Minigan’s still interesting!!!!! Wooooooo!!!!”

Oh, and speaking of this blog: this is my 81st post, which means we only have 18 posts left to go before my 100th Blog Post Spectacular! I’m telling you this because those next 18 are going to be so fucking insane. You’ve been warned.

Hogwarts School is Actually an Awful Place to Send a Child

For some reason, maybe it’s because after all these years I still love the series, or maybe it’s because the final movie came out this year and it made me nostalgic, but I’ve been reading the Harry Potter series over again.  Even as an adult (that doesn’t sound right, let’s just say college graduate) the story is entertaining and the characters are relatable.  However, the last time I read these books was around six to seven years ago. And because of this, I didn’t really notice a lot of the fucked up aspects of the Harry Potter universe until my current read through.

I’m not going into some of the details, seeing as though has already pointed out some of the fucked up aspects of Harry Potter in this video, but I still have a bit of a bone to pick with Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

I am going to ignore the fact that in the last book, the pinnacle battle between good and evil took place at Hogwarts because that wasn’t the teachers’ idea. It was Harry and Voldermort’s fault for bringing the battle to a school where 11 year olds sleep. I will, however point out that in the other six books, the students have been placed in serious danger by the adults in the wizarding world. What this comes down to is that Hogwarts is as dangerous to children as a NAMBLA convention/ lit firecracker holding competition.

In book one, Dumbledore decided that the Sorcerer’s Stone, an object that he knows full goddamn well that Voldermort was after, should be kept at Hogwarts for safe keeping. Dumbledore knew that Voldermort was more than willing to kill any child that was in the way of what he wanted, and he knew that Voldermort was too afraid of him to just go to the school and take the stone. Except that last part totally happened. Voldermort DID get into the school via the back of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor’s head. Somehow Dumbledore, who has shown some ability to read minds, completely failed to notice. Snape, the true hero of the series and the one who has showed  that he can read minds, also seemed to let Quirrel’s thought of “Oh my God, I’VE GOT A FACE ON THE BACK OF MY HEAD! I’VE GOT A FACE ON THE BACK OF MY HEAD!” slip passed.  Sure, Dumbledore did rig it so that anyone who wanted to use the stone could not get it, but that still did  not stop the most dangerous wizard in history to break into the school and threaten  all of the student’s safety, including the only wizard who was going to be able to stop him. That wizard, by the way, was only 11 years old and only found out that he was a wizard a couple of months before.

Also Dumbledore, I would seriously reconsider your security tactics if 3 eleven year old kids can get through most of your traps. That is, unless your security tactics are solely based on “Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader” logic.

According to Dumbledore: no, no you're not.

On to Book 2. Yes, I am going through the books in order. There is a whole fucking lot to deal with. In The Chamber of Secrets, Hogwarts, the safest place for children in the wizarding world, was attacked by a monster in the Chamber of secrets. As it turns out, a first year girl was hypnotized into opening the chamber and releasing the monster by a possessed diary. Really. While all the teachers have their hands up their asses about who is responsible, the three main characters are the ones doing the active detective work to find the chamber. The teachers were pretty sure that the chamber was just a myth because no one could find it… well, except for a few second years and the Slytherin prefect from 50 years ago (Yes, the chamber was opened before, while Dumbledore was a professor no less), so let’s just chalk that up to the ineptitude of the Hogwarts faculty.   Also, while it’s good that no one died this time, the only reason there were no deaths the second time around was because of sheer luck. Every person that was attacked just happened to see the basilisk indirectly. So, for the second year in a row, the students in the school are saved and Lord Voldermort was prevented to return to power thanks to some kid who can’t seem to mind his goddamn own business sometimes.

Book Three: OK, let’s just start with the most obvious fact: Dumbledore hired a werewolf. Yes, he was a good guy when he is in his human state, but when he was in wolf form, he cannot stop himself from attacking people in his way. That is kind of a bad thing when it comes to him living in a place with thousands of children, especially because these children have a tendency to sneak around at night.

No, it's cool. I've got tenure.

Speaking about sneaking around at night, the murderer, Sirius Black, was able to sneak not only past the dementors, and into the castle, but he was also able to break into the Gryffindor tower  and attempt to take a boy’s rat (what he was really after, because it was actually the person he was accused of killing in the first place… SPOILER ALERT!). How does something like that even happen? Harry cannot sneak out at night without running into at least one teacher or over hearing a plot forwarding conversation, but a convicted murderer can simply stroll into the school and up to the Gryffindor tower without any teacher crossing his path or any of the talking portraits questioning what he was doing.  I really hope that the teachers aren’t getting paid extra for their guard duties.

And on a side note, I should mention that in book three, we learn why the school decided that a tree that attacks anything that gets too close would be a great addition to the scenery of the grounds. It should also be noted that in book 2, Harry and Ron accidently fly a car into it. And while they narrowly escape death via foliage, the professors are more concerned for the tree’s well being. I’m beginning to think that the staff at Hogwarts want all children dead, and they’re none too secretive about it.

So, you're saying that this tree will attack anything that comes too close, and that it's a dangerous thing to keep near meddlesome children? Great! I'll take 5!

Book 4: This one doesn’t directly endanger any of the students other than Harry, but due to this lack of logic, they inadvertently endanger the entire world and cause many, easily avoided deaths. What I’m talking about is that someone put Harry’s name into the goblet of fire, and, as per the rules of the tournament, once a champion is selected, he/she must compete. But why? That is never explained; all the reader knows is that it is a rule that cannot be broken. But from what we see from the rest of the book, the goblet plays no importance at all. In fact, after it has chosen the champions, the goblet’s fire is goes out and doesn’t relight until the next tournament. Human judges, not the cup, give out the scores. So, why do they need to enforce that rule, or rather, what is going to enforce that rule? Sure, the Goblet is magic and holds blue flames, but it’s just a cup. What the Hell is it going to do if one of the champions does not compete? So either Dumbledore really wanted Harry to risk his life every year he attends Hogwarts, or Dumbledore and the other teachers simply forgot that a cup cannot tell you what to do because it’s a fucking cup.


Book 5: Actually, I don’t have anything to say about Hogwarts from this book. It was actually pretty safe during this year. I hate to point it out, but maybe that evil bitch, Umbridge, was the best thing to happen to that school.

Book 6: In this book we find out that there is a pair of magical cabinets that transport someone from one to another despite the distance. We also find out that one of those magical cabinets is located in the Room of Requirement, aka the room where all students stuff their illegal items in. where’s the other one? In Knockturn Alley, a place where only dark wizards congregate. Of course Dumbledore might not have known about the cabinet, but he certainly did know about the room and it’s special ability to suit the user’s needs, so he should have known about its use as a store-house and cleaned it out years ago. That is, after all, how a bunch of bad guys broke into the school, attacked a bunch of students, and eventually lead to Dumbledore’s death (SPOILER ALERT– I don’t think I’m doing that right).

Seriously, with all the shit that goes down at Hogwarts, I’m amazed at how no students die on a regular basis.

Peace, Muggles.

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